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Restyling 60s TV shows

Okay, I want to remake Gilligan's Island for TV, but with a William Golding's Lord of the Flies angle.

Gilligan as Ralph: The Gilligan/Ralph will still be a comic role.

The Professor as Piggy: Both are the intellectuals. Plus they're characters that are only referred to by a descriptive title rather than their real names.

Skipper as Jack: Well, duh.

Mary Ann as Simon: The innocent farm girl and the representation of peace and positivity are a natural match.

Ginger as Roger: That coldhearted Hollywood glamor girl easily transforms into the brutal and cruel killer who succumbs to her primitive urges.

The Howells . . . uh, er, the Twins! Yeah, sure. There ya go.

And the radio can represent the conch shell.

1960s escapist hilarity along with a dark examination of the conflicting impulses between civilization and savagery well mixed.

I need to start working on the script . . .


That's Entertainment

     I don't watch Entertainment Tonight, well, sometimes I might stop and listen if something catches my attention, but it is an example of how mushy the line has become between the news and what is gossipy stuff.

     Entertainment Tonight is suppose to be about celebrities and the upcoming movies, but why does George Zimmerman belong in those categories? Does he sing or dance? (Ok, a court joke could be made here) Has he performed on stage or starred in a movie or TV show?


     So why is he featured on ET?

     There has been other high profile crime stories featured on ET. And we might remember the national news networks going crazy over Britney Spears and her antics and for other celebs going nutso. Folks, the two topics don't belong in the same boat.

     It just boggles me.

     No profound essay or thoughtful insight, just wanted to get that off my chest. 


A thought

      Why are there no blind zombies?

     In Walking Dead world or any other zombie story, there are no blind zombies. Seems like blind people would be one of the easiest prey to catch and infect. So there should be blind zombies.

I have a theory . . .

I have a theory about the Ice King.

He needs a kiss, a willing kiss, mind you, from a princess in order to break some sort of enchantment he is under.

     The Kiss is important in Adventure Time. The act has been featured in several episodes:

* Finn's & Flame Princess's first kiss.
* The ending of the episode "Thank You."
* Finn lifting the curse off of Prince Huge (he was the monstrous frog).
* Kiss from Bubblegum is the reward for winning the Wizard's Dual.
* Kiss of Death returns Jake's memory when the adventuring pair went to the Land of the Dead.
* On the cover of the Ice King's fan fic has a picture of him and Fionna kissing.
* whole bunch of other instances which I don't feel like listing.

     There is also the time Ice King attempted to kiss Marcelline . . .

   Yes, I watch Adventure Time! What of it?!?

. . . and she is a vampire queen. So, my theory is that the Ice King needs a willing kiss from a princess-type, or a female hero, in order for Simon to gain full control over the crown or get his memory back or to be free of its influence. The kiss from Finn didn't do the trick, which is why Ice King wishes that Fionna was real because her kiss would work to break whatever enchantment he is under. Finn stated that for a kiss to work in breaking an enchantment it had to be willing, or something of that sort, maybe, I think . . . .

     I have nothing else to add. I don't know how to end this.


                                                       THE END


Back to India

Well, we learned of the horrible influence the Irish had on Bombay by reading a passage from Half Hours in the Far East. Next we turn our attention to the dietary habit of pirates.

The pages of the book do not scan well. If I sharpen the image it gets all pixaly. I've tried my best to make the images clearer.


What we have here is the impressive Pirate's Water Gate in Jingeera. The author mentions the Pariar tribe, and if you notice the blocked section, seem to dine on carrion. On the next page we learn that  "the Naidas are wretched outcasts, whom no slave would touch. They wander about in companies, and howl like dogs, keeping at a distance from all passers by, who if they wish to give them food leave it for them on the ground."


The pirate gate belongs to the Mopilla tribe. Try googling that and you get Mozilla, even though you insist you are looking for the Mopilla. Even when you go with Mopilla, Google really really wants you to go with Mozilla. Bing wants to make them Native Americans. No, they are the Pirate Masters of late 1800s Malabar that own an impressive gate. How impressive? Although the picture isn't great ( I tried!) if you can figure out that mass in the opening of the gate, it is a group of 40 or so people, so by comparison it's a pretty freakin' big gate.

Another cool illustration is this one of the Elephanta Caves, ready for exploration.


The author was quite taken with the inhabitants of the area. "Why they should have impressed me so much I can hardly tell. As a matter of course, I had fully anticipated meeting such persons; nevertheless few things struck me more than hearing a Hindoo speak beautiful English."

I'm guessing traveling with this guy would be like traveling with your bigoted uncle who doesn't realized that he's bigoted.

The author might have fainted if one came up and said "top of the mornin' to ye, laddy."

Remember earlier, what he said about the Irish, and that phrase being all stereotypical, and all . . . oh, never mind.

Btw, why have I been late in posting more stuff? Look what I did to my toe. That's why.

toes 001

It shouldn't be purple.


Of Plagiarism and Cystitis

We will return to Irish India next time.

I know a lot of folk cut & paste Wikipedia articles to their sites, and never site the source, but even in the cut-throat world of veterinary advice blogs does the scourge of plagiarism appear. Below are two links to veterinary sites in which the owners recount a case of a cat with cystitis. It is the exact same story only the names have been changed. Why? Laziness? Writer not a real vet and needed a case?



The earlier entry is Pete the Vet's site, with the Irish (the Irish again!) vet's entry being 9 months later.

After further investigation . . .

Good grief, it's the same guy! He plagiarized his own stuff. Okay, really, he just told the same story but changed the name of the cat. In case the cat wanted to sue, I guess.

I shouldn't waste the space and post this, but I spend a good five minutes writing about it, so up it goes.

Of the dang Irish and old books

I went to the annual Shepard Center used book sale held in the early part of May. They had a ton of science-fiction (an awful lot of Poul Anderson, for some reason, and I'm not complaining). I didn't make it past the paperbacks, rare books, and older classics section, due to the fact that by that point I went a few buck over my budget. Like last year, I found some cool stuff.

     I'm not looking at the older books for monetary value, just for something that I find cool. However, I did find a first printing of Tarzan of the Apes for my wife.

     One neat book that I purchased is Half Hours In The Far East; Among the People and Wonders of India. There is no print date, but from what evidence I found online it was published between 1886 to 1900. This book was written in a time when India was the faaaaaaar East and an exotic land of mystery. Not saying it isn't now, just when it has a Facebook page you lose
some of your mystery. Remember when Sasquatch got his Facebook page? He lost some of his mystique. Of course all the pictures were out of focus.
     The author of Half Hours In The Far East was very British. You'll see.

     I plan to examine more of this book later, but for now let's look at one piece of important information which would benefit someone traveling to 1890s India. One needs to know the difference between a Bombay carriage and a Bombay cart.


  Hopefully, you can read the pages here. There is one section that's really special at the bottom of the first page. I'll write it out for you;

         ' . . . I receive my first impression of India,- impressions, first, of the Irish or gipsy-like squalor of the native town."

So the problem with Bombay was all the Irish? I'm trying to combine the accents in my head . . . and it hurts. Sheesh. I'm sure the author made many friends during his travels.
     I'll be examining more of this charming and horribly racist book in the next few days.

I have no idea why the typeface keeps changing. Weird.



The Death of Ray Harryhausen.

Well, just learned that Ray Harryhausen died today at the age of 92.

     To me, he is eternal.

     He saved me through his movies from dying of boredom on many a Saturday afternoon when I was a kid. I can't recall which movie I saw first, think that would stick with me, but I've seen them all many, many times on TV.  I watched the Golden Voyage of Sinbad, Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger, and Clash of the Titans on the big screen. Now, whenever a Harryhausen movie comes on TCM I have to watch it.

     I wished I could have met him to say "thank you."

     I liked what Edgar Wright said regarding Harryhausen's death. "He was the man who made me believe in monsters."

     Thank you, Mr. Harryausen.

Short Story from 2011

In 2011 I won 2nd place in a Halloween short story contest sponsored by Renderosity.The theme of the contest was Zombie Apocalypse. Later, after watching an episode of Walking Dead I realized that the content of the story was very similar to the predicament of Morgan Jones, the man faced with the sight of his dead wife walking around. I was annoyed with myself thinking that I unintentionally plagiarized. Ah well, you tell me if it is too close.

The story has two titles; "Your sweet and Loving Face" and "Love Letter." I feel the former title is better. Anyhoo, here is "Your Sweet and Loving Love Letter." Or make up your own title.


There is so much I wanted to say to you, but now that is impossible. If only you had told me that you'd been bitten. Maybe you didn't realize it when it happened. There just was so much confusion.

I know it isn't you out there. But I can not destroy that which has your face. I hear you...I mean that thing, shuffling around the house. It moves from the laundry room to the living room, then through the kitchen to the base of the stairs before repeating the pattern, as if mimicking your actions from life. Sometimes, it is quiet and I've peeked out the door to see it in the hallway simply swaying side to side in the dark. One time, I was awakened by noise from the kitchen; I honestly believe it was going through the motions to make coffee.

I know that it isn't you. I refused then to acknowledge that fact when you … it did those things. I guess I went a little crazy, believing that I was defending my woman from attack. It's all just a big mess.

Okay, here's what happened, baby.

We went with the neighbors to Chester Street see what was going on and ran into a pack of the damned things. Harry swung his baseball bat around like a drunken madman. Joan with her crowbar proved to be lethal to the things. But there were so many. Never dreamed that the things would make their way this far from the disaster center. They swarmed Fred and Billy right before the cavalry came. The rest of us just ran from the attack as the National Guard bellowed out the orders over the gunfire to go home and lock the doors. We ran, all right.

I should have known, when you said you were so tired. How pale you looked, how dazed your expression, but you said that you only needed to lay down. We sent Julie back home, you went to lie with the baby, you acted so tired, why would I think otherwise. The nearby gunfire echoed outside. I loudly said that it sounded like popcorn being popped, just so you could hear me from the other room. Were you already gone at that point? Did you hear me at all?

A few minutes later, I came in to check on you and found … what you … it … did to our daughter. You were … it was … eating her little … the blood was just so … so much blood everywhere. It wasn't you, I know that. I screamed, though. For a long time, I screamed.

I ran outside. The neighbors came. You … it, damnit, that thing followed. But I only saw your face, even though its lips were covered in our baby's blood, there was only your face. I had to believe that under those dull eyes, under all that bloody mess, you were hidden underneath. That I could dig you out and somehow save you.

Harry freaked. He charged with his bat held high. Understand babe, I only saw you, not it. My little .38 was still in my pocket. I fired. Joan freaked. Everyone freaked. I shot and shot and shot. I was protecting you, babe. That was the only thought in my head; that I was protecting you.

The outside has been quiet for a while. No more popcorn. I wonder who won on Chester Street? I wonder if the thing with your face will ever walk up the stairs to our bedroom. I'm waiting up here in case it does. Not sure what I will do if it does. It's not you, babe. But it has your sweet face.

It has your sweet loving face.

And to all a good night . . .

Every Xmas my wife's side of the family have a grab bag gift event. One contributes several gifts, which should not to exceed the amount of $1*, into a pile and from oldest to youngest we take turns picking out presents. I buy grab bag gifts throughout the year rather than spend time shopping during the annoying holiday season. Basically, if I see something that looks interesting and it's cheap it is acquired for the grab bag. At a Goodwill store I discovered a small evil looking doll; all marionette-like with narrow eyes and a devilish 'I just ate your cat' grin.
     So of course I got it for the grab bag.
     Well, I didn't want such an evil presence to actually get any family members, so I wrote up a set of instructions to aid in figuring out what kind evil doll that one might have. I stuck the instructions in the box with the sinister marionette. So far no one has died so I guess everything is okay.
     Or maybe the evil doll just feels at home there.
     Thought I would share those instructions here.

* Everyone doesn't adhere to the rule. A bit difficult to stay within a $1 limit for ten items. Over the years I've put in several $500 gifts in the grab bag. And it's not really a bag but a pile. Guess Grab Pile just doesn't sound right. Oh, Pick Pile! It should be called a Pick Pile!

You are now the new owner of one (1) evil doll. Please read the following information carefully in order to determine what type of evil doll you have. With time, if you survive that long, you will come to know your evil doll as it will terrifyingly come to know you. Please note that every one (1) evil doll has its peculiarities and may not conform to specifics as stated below. HellStorm Industries holds no responsibilities as to the condition, actions, direction, affiliations, inclination, or activities of your one (1) evil doll. HellStorm Industries only holds that your one (1) evil doll, in some respect, has been created or touched by the Dark Powers of Evil and will seek, in some sinister method, to cause harm. If you survive the encounter with your one (1) evil doll we hope that you'll be able to pass on its hideous curse to family, friends (being of course they survive the initial onslaught, see below), or unknown unsuspecting future victims.

If you are curious, please examine your one (1) evil doll for any of the following characteristics to determine what type of evil doll has found its way into your possession. Each characteristic has a numerical value; tallying the values aids in establishing the level of Pure Evil in your doll and what to expect in regards to your fate, be it merely a life changing experience producing future fears of new terrors or something ultimately horrific.


It is a brand new doll: ONE (1) It is fresh from the factory and still in the box. Probably inexperienced and perhaps containing the soul of a murderer, greedy industrialist, or evil cultist.

It is an older doll: TWO (2) It appears to have been manufactured during the past three (3) to four (4) decades. May have killed before but possibly only waiting until its day of release while slowly building up its vile hate to a proper state before unleashing its horror.

It is of an indeterminable age: THREE (3) It was made before you were born, perhaps in the range of 1790-1940s. More than likely these dolls are experienced terror makers, having undoubtedly killed before and merely waiting for the right opportunity to commit bloodshed.

It is ancient of age: FOUR (4) It was crafted when mankind dwelled in crude huts and chanted strange alien words to Dark Powers. This thing, this foulness in a craven image, has been touched by things monstrously evil that, if given a mere glimpse, would shatter a human's fragile sanity.


It is six (6) inches in height or less: ONE (1) It more than likely is part of a collection, say a group of army men or similar action figures. May have a specified goal to accomplish.

It is the size of a small child: TWO (2) It is made to be an eye-to-eye interactive object for some unfortunate. If a ventriloquist dummy, it will make seductive promises of fortune or urge one to commit terrible acts. May be cursed, holding an evil presence, or contain the soul of the former owner.

It is a doll closer to adult height: THREE (3) If it is a larger doll, it will be distressfully creepy just sitting there in the dark. It doesn't have to do anything. If it does move, it will do so in slow crawling spider-like movements just so that memory will be forever scorched in your mind.

It is around a foot in height: FOUR (4) It will be able to hide effectively and seemingly strike out of nowhere.


It is purchased by you: ONE(1) Fate has directed you to purchase the doll. You were given a choice whether to buy it or something else, and chose it. Later, you will spend a lot of time wondering why the doll disturbs you. This is normal.

It is bought for you as a gift: TWO (2) The innocent situation in which the doll was given to you (birthday, bar mitzvah, bachelor party) makes you susceptible to its mind games. It will strike subtly before any direct confrontation or just silently watch you mentally disintegrate.

It is discovered in an abandoned residence or in an old attic or basement: THREE (3) More than likely it has killed before and is the reason why the residence is abandoned, or if in an attic/basement had been placed there after finishing previous destructive mayhem. It has been waiting for you.

It has been discovered at a location over a hundred (100) years old: FOUR (4) It has been sleeping, patiently waiting for its unholy strength to be unleashed. The older the place of discovery, the more powerful the doll will be. It can kill you with its mind.


It is relatively normal looking in appearance: ONE (1)It is very human looking without distortions. Probably will not engage in mind games and be more physically confrontational.

It is a ventriloquist dummy: TWO (2) More than likely will engage in mind games and focus on an individual. It will slowly work on your oblivion. Its laughter will haunt you.

It appears to be a tribal fetish figure: THREE (3) Its features are disturbingly distorted and twisted, plus something on it (teeth, fingers, elbows, something) will more than likely be all jaggedly sharp. Might come with its own doll sized weapon. You will be terrified just holding the damned thing.

It looks like a clown: FOUR (4) The worst kind, d'uh.


Bought in a yard sale: ONE (1) Typically, only lower end evil work through yard sales.

You've experienced a life changing event : TWO (2) You've been experiencing problems writing a book, you just finished writing your book, you've inherited an estate, you dying great-grandfather wishes to talk to you before he dies, etc. You will be too distracted to pay attention to the one (1) evil doll that's somehow a part of all this.

Bought in curio or consignment shop: THREE (3) Curio shops and the like are to evil dolls what bars are to single people; it's where one goes to meet who they are going to be spending the night with, however in this case it isn't cab fare left on the table but your neighbor's eyes.

Came with a story or warning: FOUR (4) The seller tells you of the curse/history/purpose associated with the doll and you buy it anyway. It silently mocks you.

Tally your score

1-5 Your situation is survivable. Your encounter may end up being merely a moral lesson, like paying more attention to your kids or some garbage.

6-10 Odds are slightly in your favor unless you are one of those denying type people that try to rationalize everything. "Well, maybe Aunty accidentally decapitated herself with the steak knife after moving the doll into the empty locked bedroom, it's the only logical conclusion."

11-15 Your encounter could go either way. It won't be pretty.

16-20 You're screwed. Frankly, we're surprised you've made it through reading the pamphlet.

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your one (1) HellStorm Industries evil doll, please do not attempt to contact us, as it will prove fruitless and any previous point of contact will, of course, not be there when you return to the location for a second time. This is especially true if you bring a police officer, friend or family member along in order to prove "there was a shop there, honest" or some such.


what hell
Eldon Litchfield

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