Radical Islam Strikes Paris

158 dead and counting.

"This is Hell"

On the subject of offending actions, I find myself sadly blogging once again about innocent people  slaughtered by Islamic terrorists. Here are a few thoughts:

Similarities between the massacre at the Bataclan Theater and Beslan. In both cases, killers shot innocent people while wearing suicide vests, then blew themselves up when security forces arrived, butchering additional victims. (A lot of children at Beslan.)

The war in Syria and Iraq is brutal, creating battle-hardened cadres who don't mind blood and aren't unafraid to die, thanks to their religious doctrine promising paradise to jihadis. They are trained in weapons, small-unit tactics, and won't do stupid things like the '93 World Trade Center truck bomber who was captured after returning to the rental company for his deposit. We're not gonna be that lucky with these guys.

We may have to alter American police procedure. Normally, cops seal off a hostage scene and attempt to negotiate. These Islamic goons seem down for a big body count. Cops need to be ready for dynamic entry into a very fluid, dangerous situation with many innocents present.

This kind of attack is more scary—to me—than 9/11 which was linked to airplanes and specific buildings. Something similar to these Paris attacks could erupt in any mall, movie theater, concert, sporting event. It's much more direct and personal.

The Council of American-Islamic Relations should not be interviewed after incidents like this. CAIR are Islamic boosters. If the University of Alabama football team went on a rampage and shot up a mall, the person to interview on the news would not be the guy with the Crimson Tide"bumper stickers who deplores the violence, then cries, "Roll Tide!"

Radical Islam is our foe, not "violent extremism."

My prayers to the families of the victims.

Lovecraft Out as Award Image

 

Easter Island statue in formal attire or ex-World Fantasy Award?

H.P. Banished by PC into Stygian Darkness 

Weird fiction author H.P. Lovecraft's image will no longer grace the statues presented at the World Fantasy Award. According to organizers, authors and readers lobbied to have Howard Phillips likeness removed because he was an "avowed racist" with "hideous opinions." As reported in The Guardian:

"Last year's winner, Sofia Samara, who took the best novel prize in 2014 for A Stranger in Olondria, raised the issue in her acceptance speech, saying that "I can't sit down without addressing the elephant in the room, which is the controversy surrounding the image that represents this award." She told her audience that it was "awkward to accept the award as a writer of colour," [but not out of space] and thanked the board for taking the issue seriously."

I always thought Woodrow Wilson was a fairly big racist. U.S. President during Lovecraft's life, Wilson re-segregated the civil service and informed blacks that "segregation was a blessing." But he never wrote weird fiction and there are no award statues named after him, just high schools and bridges and the Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International Affairs, and the hundred thousand dollar bill.

In time, he will offend and his name will be removed.

Perhaps by the light of a gibbous moon. 

Lovecraft Horror Book Draft Done

Image: Arctic-Andy

Dunwich Diversity Seminar Ready for Beta Buddies

Since my last update back in August, I have trimmed the manuscript to a more manageable size, suitable for the eyes of discerning readers. This tale of a party girl grad student who realizes she's the only one capable of saving earth from Lovecraftian monstrosities has fastened onto my subconscious with lamprey-like tenacity. For the last nine days, I've done little but edit pages. (I did eat meals and washed periodically.) But enough fiddling with this update of Lovecraft's The Dunwich Horror. Away with this clash between the politically correct and a sinister warlock; off to the discerning toward the end of the week.

For the detail-minded, I cut 20 chapters down to 16; 304 pages to 216; and 99,386 words to 69,986. (I lopped off my funny, Lovecraft allusion-filled epilogue because it was anti-climatic.) This latest count doesn't include the, as yet, unwritten front and back matter.

And, as some may note, no Halloween release. As it stands now, I'll release the eBook version by Christmas and the soft cover shortly thereafter.

But for today, I will merely say, "Boy, am I happy to be finished."

Military Sci Fi Star Wars Flaws

Wookieepedia

This is my At-At, This is my Gun.

Ah, Star Wars hardware. Those big, tall, dinosaur-looking tanks from the Empire Strikes Back always fascinated me. But I could never get my head around them as weapons. They seemed designed as enormous, expensive and impractical behemoths. (I'm surprised the Untied Stated hasn't developed one for fighting ISIS.) Joe Pappalardo also ponders the military flaws in the Empire's weaponry. For instance, regarding the above mentioned dino tank, officially known as an At-At:

". . . they are not well suited for front-line action. Scaling up a 4-legged design to mammoth AT-AT walkers brings few advantages, and numerous disadvantages. Sure, the AT-AT could step over many obstructions, like trees and boulders. But steeper inclines and the inability to roll upright—its awfully boxy for such a maneuver; a barrel shape would help—makes this a dangerous ride."

Some guy with heart and a FGM-48 Javelin could knock one out. The Riders of Stinking Rohan could topple these big boys. There's more on SW military tech in Pappalardo's Popular Mechanics piece. If it were possible to speak with Emperor Palpatine, I'd have to say: Keep it simple and buy Russian, dog.

Happy Halloween!

h/t: Instapundit

H.P. Lovecraft Tips on Weird Fiction

Lovecraft is top left. His agent is bottom right.

Five Ways to Structure Your Horror, Sci-Fi, Fantasy Story

Who would know better? In addition to gracing the pages of Weird Tales with weird tales, Howard Phillip Lovecraft was a letter-crafting dynamo and would expound at length on the process of writing. For instance, H.P. opines on what elements go into fantastic fiction:

"The true weird tale has something more than secret murder, bloody bones, or a sheeted form clanking chains according to rule. A certain atmosphere of breathless and unexplainable dread of outer, unknown forces must be present; and there must be a hint, expressed with a seriousness and portentousness becoming its subject, of that most terrible conception of the human brain—a malign and particular suspension or defeat of those fixed laws of Nature which are our only safeguard against the assaults of chaos and the daemons of unplumbed space."

Over at Open Culture, Josh Jones lays out a quintet of Lovecraftian tips that will aid in your outre scribblings. May all your moons be gibbous.

Thomas Edison's Secret Lab Surfaces

Lo, a secret lab.

Animated TV Series Now on Netflix, Other Venues

Thomas Edison bequeathed to humanity a clandestine laboratory. According to Genius Brands International, "the secret lab, Edison's virtual ego, and his prototype robot remained hidden until a 12-year old prodigy cracked the secret coded message that Edison left behind. The young genius and her science club move into the lab and the fun begins."

One of these fine episodes is mine. (Or more properly, my name is on a script that story editor Grant Moran rewrote—but such is the nature of the business.) Kids, a lab, a robot, a virtual dead guy, but a very, very smart dead guy. These elements await you. Check out 13 action-filled tales on Netflix or your local PBS station.

Indie Comics Want In on Hollywood Dough

Dark Circle Comics

Small Publishers Push Properties for Films, Series

D.C. and Marvel went big with their characters and it's paid off. Now, according to a New York Times article, the little guys crave passage on that royalty gravy train. But as Gregory Schmidt writes:

". . . the publishing model of smaller houses differs from that of their larger counterparts. Instead of having a monthly series that can run for years, they publish shorter series, usually about five issues. If a series is a hit, the publishers can order a second short series or make it ongoing. To bolster revenue, the series can be repackaged and sold in collections."

Comics into live-action are another venue for writers and artists to earn an honest buck. Read the rest as time and fortune dictate in your busy day.

Wabbit Airs on Cartoon Network

Newcomer Squeaks the Squirrel antics with Bugs in an episode of "Wabbit."

Set to Air on Boomerang in October

Roger Eschbacher reminded me that brand shiny new Bugs Bunny episodes have begun showing on Cartoon Network. Basic info is here, and I've included the tropes you may expect to view, including Denser and Wackier and Vitriolic Best Buds.

As a note, Roger's episode "Now and Zen" aired in the first show. I wrote a pair of these back in 2014, but have yet to see the series due to book fever as well as assorted paying employment. However, I shall remedy that.

A Quarter Century of Tiny Toon Adventures

The cast puts on their best Hollywood Happy Face.

Tom Ruegger Has the Visuals to Prove It

Over at Cartoonatics, Producer Tom Ruegger posts back-in-the-day images related to TV animation hit Tiny Toon Adventures, now 25 years old.

Two months after its September debut, I started writing for Warner Bros. on a spin-off that would feature Elmyra. Our little crew consisted of Peter Hastings, Deanna Oliver, M.D. Sweeney and myself working free-lance, plus Nick Hollander who was on the Tiny Toons' staff. TT story editor Sherri Stoner headed up the project.

And while Elmyra would have to wait eight years for a break-out show, I wrote my first animated TV script, "Take Elmyra, Please," (along with Sweeney and Hollander) which ended up airing on "Tiny Toons."

Today I write animated educational videos and horror novels. Also Wanted Posters when money runs short.

Elmyra escaping from a large, colorful hot plate. 

Recalling 9/11

K called from Florida, "Planes crashed into the World Trade Center and one of the towers just fell." Unemployed in Los Angeles and half asleep at 7:30 AM, I shuffled downstairs to the TV, past Joy as she prepared for work. At first, all I saw was a dirty cloud obscuring southern Manhattan. Then a stunned announcer said the second tower had just collapsed. Joy joined me, work forgotten as we learned of the attack.

Other friends phoned throughout the day. Paul Rugg speculated about the pilots of the doomed aircraft, certain they weren't Americans forced to crash. TJ, a Vietnam vet, was incensed at the footage of jubilant Palestinians with their candy and AK-47s. He wished he could gift them with a nice buttering of napalm. In a grim mood, I agreed.

Watching TV and power-chewing Nicorette, I mostly felt numb — except when the subject was jumpers. Then I felt horror. Go to work, sip coffee, joke with your pals, then decide whether you'll suffocate, burn alive, or leap a quarter mile to certain death. Questions of etiquette arise: jump solo or hold hands with a co-worker? Perhaps several of you link arms and form a chain, finding courage in numbers. Or do you clutch a table cloth and step into the air, desperately hoping it slows your fall?



The journey takes ten seconds.


Air velocity rips away your shoes.


You explode on impact.


I will always be haunted by the jumpers of 9/11.


Oceans of paper were blasted from the towers, filling the New York sky like the Devil's ticker tape. Invoices and wedding invitations floated down to gray sidewalks.

My friend Cathy, who worked in D.C., reported chaos as the government sent everyone home at once following the Pentagon attack. One jammed intersection turned scary as a man leaped out of an SUV brandishing a pistol and attempting to direct traffic.

Being murdered is not a heroic act, though it can be. Flight 93 passengers fought back and died, saving many more in their sacrifice. North Tower Port Authority employees rescued over 70 people before perishing.


There were many heroes that day.

My sister Mary Pat and I had dinner at a coffee shop. She was passing through town, leaving a job in Mountain View, CA to return to Phoenix. Depressed by the day's events, our meal was not jolly.

Later, Joy tried to give blood, but the hospital was overwhelmed with donations and refused.

Vulnerability, grief, dismay, anger.

Such a beautiful morning with a sky so blue.

(Photos from: Little Green Footballs.)

Repost: Sept. 11, 2008

Update: Strange to reread this. TJ died in 2009 and K passed away just over a year ago. My wife, Joy, and I are doing well, as is Paul Rugg who now rides the train. 

Repost: Sept. 11, 2013

Update: I had cancer surgery last year, but recovered. My wife is doing well and my sister battles her own health woes. I have not heard from my friend Cathy in a few years.  Paul Rugg continues riding the train in addition to being a voice over machine.

Tom Ruegger Remembers Pinky and the Brain

Pinky and the Brain attempt to find the State Department.

A generation ago . . . 

Yes, a crisp twenty years have passed since Pinky and the Brain took to the airwaves in their own Sunday night show. Producer Tom Ruegger recalls it well over at Cartoonatics.

My own contribution was Episode 6, "Brainania" where P&B hoped to build a colossal clothes dryer and render the world helpless with static cling. But to fund the project, they must first create their own nation, then bilk the United States out of foreign aid. This plan, by all accounts, should have worked.