W2 - Wendy to the Second Power

My friends at the Austin ghost-busting crew Aether Paranormal did an investigation of one of Austin's most intense haunted houses. The House of Torment keeps its building all year long to work on costumes, sets, etc. It used to be a smallish movie theater that I used to frequent in the parking lot of Highland Mall! But word was, it was haunted. Many creepy things happened!

So Aether investigated and found many unexplainable readings there. Spooky! So for Halloween this year, they set up a booth on Saturday nights and sold their DVDs and tshirts and promoted their Website. Now they are hot stuff with the goth-y high school kids in town! Shad showed me some photos.

Check them out: Aether Paranormal at House of Torment. Those are some amazing costumes and makeup jobs! That filthy, disgusting clown is an anglo guy under that makeup!

Ah, the youth of today... And our world is in their hands...

First, the peppy and inventive music film:


Isn't it cute? It's CGI by Animusic. You can find lots of their music machine animations on YouTube, all with robotic arms, tubes and gears playing various music pieces.

But somebody started a thread where this clip is emailed out and here's what the story (HOAX!) says:

AMAZING!
Turn your sound on for this. Read this first, then watch.

This is almost unbelievable. See how all of the balls wind up in catcher cones.

This incredible machine was built as a collaborative effort between the Robert M. Trammell Music Conservatory and the Sharon Wick School of Engineering at the University of Iowa.. Amazingly, 97% of the machines components came from John Deere Industries and Irrigation Equipment of Bancroft, Iowa ...Yes, farm equipment!

It took the team a combined 13,029 hours of set-up, alignment, calibration, and tuning before filming this video but as you can see it was WELL worth the effort.

What kind of pissant takes what's a cool piece of art and technology and then blows all this smoke? John Deere parts, for pete's sake. And can people not see that the laws of physics don't let us use dropping, bouncing balls this way? Maybe for a few bars, which you'd set up a 100 times to get. Jeez!

Kudos to Chris Nakashima-Brown for arranging a special tour for Austin's science fiction/fantasy folks of the !!incredible!! Edgar Allan Poe exhibit at the Harry Ransome Center at UT. A dozen of us met last evening and got a tour of the "unusual topical and contextual approach to Poe's life and work."

And our tour guide? One of the men who put it together! Richard Oram, co-curator of the exhibition and associate director and the Hobby Foundation Librarian at the Ransom Center! Dick was really engaging and fun too. Told us several things about how and why you get such an exhibit together.

The why? It's the 200th anniversary of Poe's birthday.

The how? HRC acquired the full collection of Koester, the most dedicated Poe collector ever, and got a few more items from a Virginia museum.

Lots of stuff in his own handwriting, things about him by other writers, his actual desk for one of his editing jobs, early collections of just about all his works... And great illustrations! Many originals from the 20th century reprints by Arthur Rackham, some Edouard Manets... Even including some Vincent Price movie posters, and Bart Simpson as The Raven. he he

And there's a special sound effect in the mini-art gallery to the left. Walk in, walk around and it'll speed up as you approach a certain wall...

Catching up on weeks of celebrity fashion buzz via one of my favorite sites, Go Fug Yourself. Snarky humor, pop culture and good design analysis, always a winning combination.

But what is Cate Blanchett thinking here? On the red carpet in one of those throws "somebody's grandma crocheted in 1974 and which has lived on the basement sofa ever since" --?!! I can admire her whimsy but not her delusion that she, or anyone else, could pull that off. I have one of these throws! Mine was made by a dear wheelchair-bound friend from college.

Barbara was always looking for things to do with her hands and traveled (as in, wheeled) around with bags of yarn and needles. I actually have three crocheted throws from her, the first one being the crazy squares, created specially for me for surprise Christmas presents and produced partly in my presence.

How can a gift that was made while you sat there commenting on the yarns and colors and progress of the piece be a surprise? Wily Barbara did it with head games.

Year One: She asked me to help her choose colors I liked for a throw she'd decided to crochet for herself. I chose lots of blues, purples and greens. Then on Christmas Eve, I opened a big box and there was the throw, for me!

Year Two: She asked me to help her choose colors for a throw for another friend who had my kind of taste. "You tricked me this way last year," I said. She responded: "So I'd be crazy to try to pull that again! Just help me with this." And I shrugged and believed her. This one became an afghan ripple pattern in shades of blue I liked. On Christmas Eve, it was like: "You tricked me again!"

Year Three: When asked to help pick out yarns yet again, I swore I would not be fooled! Barbara was all: "Right, there's no way I can fool you again. So this isn't for you. Absolutely! I know my limits, and you cannot be tricked another time that way." So when on Christmas Even I opened a big box and saw the throw with the ecru squares with small burgundy and brown centers, I was like: "AAAARRRGGHH! How could you sit there and trick me yet again!"

But I do cherish those throws, and visitors who stay in my little guest room have all three displayed on a quilt rack and ready for use.

Last night I had about three different dreams about getting an airbrush tan. Which I'm doing today, for the first time. Teresa at work got one and looked quite natural, even though she, like me, has pale pale skin and blue eyes. This is the same place she went to, she described the process, and the salon lady even emailed me preparations ahead of time.

But from my tension and worries about it, and then dreaming all night about embarrassments and horror stories, you'd think I was having cataract surgery* or something! Of course, I'm tense and overloaded trying to get away from work for my vacation. Like yesterday, tried to get away in 9 hours and worked 10.5. And I still have a dozen things to do to prepare for Hawaii. I guess one thing out of all that rises to the surface and becomes the lightning rod for anxiety. Man.

Because Friday night I was all about scary dreams of pedicures! Saturday morning I was scheduled for my first-ever pedicure (I takes care of my own toes just fine). It turned out to be fine, and I like the results. But since I didn't know quite what to expect and my technician was Vietnamese and couldn't tell me much, there were some surprising results.

Like when she sat me in this throne with a basin for my feet to soak in. She picked up a complicated control wired to my throne, and I thought, "wow, that's a lot of dials for hot or cold water." She pushed a button and suddenly a couple of sticks exuded from the back of the chair and pummeled me in the kidneys! I said aloud "!!"

Then I realized it was a massage chair. A very eccentric one. It had two spine-poking things that played your back like a xylophone and big voluptuous waves that would almost toss you out of the chair. I just held on tight and monitored the experience...!


*Cataract surgery wasn't just a random phrase; my mom just had one eye "done" a week ago; and she was doing the old-lady freak-out about it. She seems to be improving now though.

I think they said this is on Lake Harriet, a big park and lake near Minneapolis. Somebody covertly made and installed a statue of the Loch Ness Monster. Supposedly an artist who does this type of creature work just moved there from NYC, so that's the best guest. For some reason, somebody (the same somebody?) has created a Website for the statue.

I won't publsh the photo since I don't have rights, but a guy I know from my Fortean list took a series of photos. That's his (c)-- D.R. Shoop. Go see, go see!

http://www.darkwatercreativegroup.com/nessieC.jpg

It's timely because we've been seeing this particular video played and replayed lately, RIP MJ, so her imitations of it are recognizable -- and priceless!

If you're a mutha, happy day to you. My mom and the rest of my family will be over around lunchtime to celebrate the day, and my birthday. I got to choose the lunch venue, so I chose (heh heh heh) Bone Daddy's. I can guarantee there will be no twee roses and ruffles there! Plus, in an example of family mind-melding, my brother had just sighed to my mom, "oh that BBQ on TV looks good" just before I called. I also got Mom flowers and chocolates, since at this late stage in her life she has two of everything an old lady could want... But she loves flowers, so woo hoo.

Childless spinsters like me are right out of luck on this holiday. I've got the requisite two cats of a writer too, so I'm really working the stereotype. And my cats, the lazy parasites, have never yet given me even a card on this day! Well, maybe if I started giving them an allowance...?

Naw, they'd just spend it on catnip.

Then I read about the powerful effect of these high-dollar, very creepy baby dolls. Really! They're individually airbrushed to have sweet little cheeks. They have human hair and are modeled on real children. But man, I find homunculi of all types so weirdly off-putting. Women are collecting these things, big-time. True, unless you have the homuncuphobia, holding a real baby or a fake baby can trigger hormones that bathe you in contentment and well-being. I do get that with real babies, plus I'm almost always able to get them to talk to me (really, even the parents crowd around and say "I've never heard her/him do that before!"). But these fake babies? eewwwwhhhh

But if I was to get one, here's a blonde, new baby girl. ( I'll hide the big photo behind the cut... )

Yes, I had nosebleed seats, so cramped even my short legs were pinched. Yes, I paid $175 to an evil scalper for those horrible seats, way up on the left in the 2nd balcony. Luckily I brought my mini-binoculars because Jemaine and Brett were cute and wonderful! What a fun Flight of the Conchorts Concert on Wednesday!

Full house, lots of enthusiastic people. We all roared at their songs and their patter. They are indeed just like their personas on TV, and they do fun things in messing with the audience. Also, Brett looks less scrawny in person, which is surprising. Jemaine is obviously the louder and quicker thinking, but he is subservient to Brett. Brett is the alpha conchord, you can tell.

Eugene Mirman, who plays their sloppy, odd landlord in the series, did a little of his stand-up routine. He had a funny story about how much he hates Delta Airlines, and then he passed out postcards for people to fill in and send to Delta to reinforce that they made a bad move when they screwed around someone who's clever and plays in venues with thousands of people. Ha, and he used his claims refund for the baggage of his they lost to print up the postcards!

Jemaine and Brett have been to Austin to play SxSW in their lesser-known days. This time they did a lot of songs from Season II, which I don't know. But they played many of the top hits I loved: It's Business Time, Hip-Hop-aPotamus, I'm Not Crying, and ... The Humans Are Dead!

The humans are dead
The humans are de-ad
We used posionous gases
And we poisoned their asses!

Binary solo!
0000001000011100000010000001

They sold colorful men's briefs at their swag table. Not sure what that was about... I never got through the huge crowd to see details. But anyway, it was one of the NIghts of Wendy's Birthday. In this case, it was the gift I got myself two months ago. So glad I did!

They talked about this on KGSR this morning, and someone posted about her on Herdomain too, so I found the YouTube clip of frumpy, spunky, 47-year-old Susan Boyle killing with a Les Miz song in a recent Britain's Got Talent (their version of American Idol). She's an overnight sensation, millions of YouTube hits, etc. Now the comments all seem to be how watching the clip makes everybody cry. I did. It's kinda amazing and a good human lesson.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving.

Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used
And wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung
No wine untasted.

But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
As they turn your dream to shame.

And still
I dream he'll come to me
That we will live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms
We cannot weather...

I had a dream my life would be
So different form this hell I'm living
so different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed
The dream I dreamed.

Update: Conversations about this woman and her unlikely success... That she challenged the youthful contestants on this show, for one. That she took the snickers and eye-rolls and made people reverse their opinions. A good comment was that the event was manipulated; the goofy music, the quick clips of her admitting cheerily to classic spinster details, the patronizing "How old are you Susan" from Simon in a tone more appropriate to a five-year-old. But even knowing and seeing that (it's one of the most manipulative of the reality shows, both in the US and England), you still get a lump in your throat and tears in your eyes from her voice and her phrasing. She's also not untutored; there's a clip on YouTube of Susan Boyle's song in a charity performance from 10 years ago, and she's great on that too: Cry Me a River.

But the discussions brought up for me why I don't like American Idol or America's Got Talent or those other shows. That part of the show where deluded contestants stand there, full of arrogance, and perform crappy auditions*, that's just mean. It's people laughing at the weakest parts of human nature as demonstrated by real humans, versus laughing at highly paid actors mouthing scripts by highly paid writers.

Those actors get to put off the deluded characters at the end of the day, but the foolish souls mocked on the reality shows go home with L-O-S-E-R tattooed across their foreheads. It makes me mad that there are such high TV audiences for that. It makes me furious that Simon Caldwell is making tens of millions of $$ from it.


*I find I can have some interest in watching the finalists perform in challenges; they're all acknowledged as good singers by that point, and loserdom is not part of the theme.