Michael A. Shelley’s
Ratte on a Sticke
October 1999
“. . . there ought to be limits to freedom.”-- George W. Bush, only slightly out of context
Arab News
As of the end of August, I’m not going to Saudi Arabia. At least not on this project. I consider this a good thing, as I’d gotten tired of waiting for someone to make a decision that affects me. So now there are two unused Saudi entry visas in my passport. Any more and I’ll have a collection started.
Biloxi, MS
A place we went to over the Labor Day (September 6) holiday. For those without a map handy, it’s just east of Gulfport, where Philips Milk of Magnesia is made. (On the southern coast of Mississippi, facing the Gulf of Mexico.) I’d been past it dozens of times traveling from Houston to Alabama as a kid, on our way to see relatives, but only remember stopping there once. In the last few years, several casinos have been built there, and Cirque du Soleil has a permanent show at one of them (Beau Rivage), so we went to see the place. Turns out Beau Rivage is the most upscale of them, so we didn’t spend a lot of time (or money) there, although the décor was quite nice. Also, we didn’t have a reservation at the restaurant. On the cheap end is Treasure Bay, with a pirate theme and a pretty decent live band, along with plenty of nickel slots (although someone won $20,000 on a $20 machine while we were there – I have no idea how much money she’d already pumped into it.) Most of the gambling that we did was at the mid-range casinos, Isle of Capri and Casino Magic. I won about as much money on quarter slots and $1.00 roulette as Amanda lost. (In the $70-$80 range, I think.) She got sucked into a nickel slot that wouldn’t let her leave – every time she dropped down to about five credits left, it would pay out a dozen or two. We spent a subjective hour in front of it (at 3 a.m., about fifteen minutes seems like an hour.)
Modern slot machines work on credit. You put in a dollar, or twenty, or a hundred, or a credit card, and it tracks how much you’ve got until you hit the payout button. You don’t even have to pull the lever any more – another button says ‘spin reels’, and for those that want to get rid of their money in a hurry, there’s a ‘bet max credits’ button as well. All this was new to me, as my gambling experience was previously limited to $3.00 blackjack tables at the Tropicana in Las Vegas around 1986.
We also drove through Ocean Springs, MS, just the other side of the bay. I was interested in seeing the L&N railroad depot they had there. The town is trying to go for touristy shops, a restored downtown, and non-gambling (or break from gambling) activities. Not a bad little place. Lots of big old pecan and magnolia trees, which you just don’t get west of the Mississippi river.
We also visited Beauvoir, which is the last home of Jefferson Davis, the first, last, and only President of the Confederate States of America. As you might expect, the gift shop has a section of books with titles like “Northern Lies about the War” and “The South was Right!” Sort of scary, really. But overlooking that, it’s a nice place to visit. A presidential library and museum with a film, a cemetery, and a creek (well, a bayou) decorate the grounds in addition to the house itself. We were surprised at Davis’ career before the Civil War – Secretary of War, hero of the Mexican-American War, representative. Sounds like not a bad guy. Of course, that’s what they would say, isn’t it?
Some Books
Rockets, Redheads, & Revolution, James Hogan. A collection of alternating essays and short stories, for the most part. Reminds me of Heinlein’s Expanded Universe, updated for the nineties. Although Hogan may have gotten a bit weird (i.e. NewAgey) recently, I still enjoy his books. The essays tend to be about controversial subjects like AIDS research and evolution. In both subjects, he has distinctly non-mainstream (but apparently valid) views. The stories are decent, nothing outstanding.
As a side note, the Houston Chronicle recently ran an article showing the results of a survey showing a correlation between level of education and belief in evolution (versus a creationist perspective.) There were also data breaking down the results by religion. Results were about as I expected: stronger belief in creationism seemed to be correlated with fundamentalist Christian religious sects and lower levels of education. One interesting note was that belief in creationism was more prevalent now than it was in the mid-1960s. Information about mobile home residence was apparently not surveyed.
The Last Camel Died at Noon, Elizabeth Peters. This is pretty much a modernized straight-up H. Rider Haggard adventure tale (a copy of King Solomon’s Mines is a plot device), with plenty of gratuitous implied sex, fairly enjoyable but not thought-provoking. Set in Egypt and the Sudan during the Victorian era. I won’t rush out for the others in the series, and this one might be heading for the used bookstore in the near future. But not bad if you’re into period mysteries with strong female protagonists.
Now that I think about it, parts of it reminded me of Doc Savage: Man of Bronze.
Cryptonomicon, Neal Stephenson. A big book, and after the last few of his, I wasn’t about to drop thirty bucks on something that more than likely was going to self-destruct fifty pages from the end. So this one came from the brand-new Sugar Land branch of the Fort Bend County Library. Unfortunately, I ended up buying it anyway, as Beasley found it tasty. (Anyone who wants it can have it for the cost of shipping. The last page, part of the Appendix, is ripped but readable. The corners are rounded off with tooth marks. But you’re probably better off getting it from the library like I did. I’d sell it to a used book store, but it’s too chewed up even for that.)
Lots of tangents in the story, which is nominally about buried Japanese gold from WWII and the study of military codes, with some history of computers thrown in, and a whole plotline about a Marine whose only purpose seems to be to provide some action in the book, and to introduce a character who plays a supporting role later. Some of the asides are informative (like a segment equating the Vickers machine gun and a bandsaw; presumably accurate information about pipe organs) and some less so (such as the extended description of the fictional island of Qwghlm.) That’s the only real complaint I can think of – too much atmosphere and detail getting in the way of the events. Four seemingly independent plotlines in two time periods is hard enough to follow without distractions, although it was done pretty well. A ruthless editor could have halved the size of the book easily, without too much loss.
Amazingly enough, Neal managed to end this one in a satisfactory manner. Suddenly, yes, and an epilogue of sorts would have been nice, but not as disappointing as some of his other recent work. The four plot strands eventually come together, forcing me to go back and re-read one portion to make sure that one character wasn’t dead. Someone who reads more carefully than I may not have a problem with it. And the writing quality is high enough that it wasn’t tedious to wade through for the most part.
The Greek Myths, Robert Graves. Very, very dry. I haven’t finished even volume one of the two, but I’ve seen enough to form at least a preliminary opinion. Lots of footnotes drawing parallels between various obscure pre-Christian religious systems. I like his novels much better; they’re easier to read. This is the freebie from The Folio Society book club, which is quite expensive to join. Nice editions of rather obscure books by dead people. Sorry, I don’t have any examples as I threw away all their sales propaganda. If you need some info about obscure Greek mythological figures, this will have it – and then footnote it extensively.
The Nudist on the Late Shift, Po Bronson. Allegedly true anecdotes about Silicon Valley. I read things like this and think, wow, here’s a bunch of young kids (i.e. anyone younger than myself) going out to San Francisco and making a ton of money just by being in the right place at the right time. Unfortunately, it requires eighteen-hour days, living in your office, abandoning all semblance of a social life, and who knows what other sacrifices I’m not prepared to make. And realistically, most of them don’t strike it rich. So I’ll stick with my slightly more relaxed lifestyle, thank you very much.
Oh, you want a review of the book? Sorry, I couldn’t finish it. (Due to time constraints, not execrable writing.) But it’s a collection of standalone chapters, none of which seem related to any others except by general theme. Reads like every other business book I’ve looked at, with stories about IPOs, venture capitalists, and salesmen. Didn’t do much for me.
The Demolished Man, Alfred Bester. Winner of the first-ever Hugo award, and found in hardback on the clearance table for $2.99. Murder in a near-Utopian society with telepathic cops. I don’t know of Bester was the first to use this formula, but I know it’s been done since. (One recent similar example is Sean Stewart’s Passion Play.) Pretty straightforward, but well-done. Not the typical fifties pulp-style space opera writing, but much more psychological than I expected. It’s held up well after nearly fifty years, largely by avoiding detailed descriptions of technology. I won’t spoil the story, but basically, big industrialist murders his rival and tries to outsmart the law. (Not the law in an abstract, impersonal sense, but “The Law” in the Texas/Southern U.S. sense, meaning any law enforcement officer. Like “The Man”. Sometimes “The Laws.”) No big plot surprises, but an enjoyable short novel.
In the queue is Maureen McHugh’s China Mountain Zhang, which I’m about halfway through at the moment. Not the sort of SF I usually read; much more person-oriented. Sure, the protagonist is an engineer, but he’s a Hispanic homosexual posing as Chinese, which really puts a spin on things. Unless it falls apart, I’d say this is a good one to try.
Also on the list is Ian Banks’ Song of Stone, one of his mainstream works. (I forget whether he uses the middle initial ‘M’ on his SF or mainstream books, but it’s the same guy.) Like CMZ, Sean Stewart suggested this one to me back in May or thereabouts. Actually, he suggested The Wasp Factory, but I got this one instead. I forget why.
And sitting on the kitchen table (at the moment) is Raymond Keene’s Keene on Chess, but that’s not really what this is about, so I’ll just say that the title smacks of self-aggrandizement just a bit. Like my forthcoming work, Michael A. Shelley’s Guide to Everything Important in the Entire Universe. If I can find an agent for it. Although it really needs something else at the beginning, like “Doctor” or “Enlightened Master” or “King”.
And coming up tomorrow is one of those little book fairs in the office building where I work, so I’ll probably have something more to read soon. Personally, I like the Discovery Toy fairs better, because I figure if I like to play with it, so would a little kid. (This works pretty well with my nieces and nephews, really. Those towers with the ramps that you put together and roll balls down are a blast.)
If you haven’t figured it out yet, all this babbling is just to take up white space at the end of the next page. (Hey, look at that! It worked!)
Some Movies
The 13th Warrior, Antonio Banderas, Omar Sharif (for a few minutes, anyway), and a bunch of people no one ever heard of before. Not much plot, with holes (For example, what happened to the old king’s son? They had a whole subplot going with this guy and never did anything with it.) Basically just a big fight in the dark, Vikings vs. cannibals. You won’t miss much if you don’t see it.
Tarzan (the Disney version of it). Not bad, an average modern Disney on par with the Goofy Movie or Hercules. Done at the Paris location, which is mostly TV, I think. We had what amounted to a private screening at the local $2.00 theater on a Monday night. Since I still haven’t read any of the ERB originals, I can’t comment on it’s faithfulness to the source. But for most Disney adaptations, ignorance is probably advisable.
Some Music
Running With Scissors, “Weird Al” Yankovic. It’s been three years since he released the platinum-selling Bad Hair Day (is anyone bothered that over one million people bought a Weird Al album?) so it’s time for another one. People who haven’t really gotten into his music (like me, a number of years ago) are only aware of his parodies. RwS has some decent parodies – “The Saga Begins” and “It’s All About the Pentiums” are getting some MTV airtime – but I think his original compositions are the better songs on this album.
Some variety in Al’s accordion style is creeping in. There is a Cajun influence on “My Baby's In Love With Eddie Vedder” (Eddie Vedder is the lead singer for Pearl Jam, which I had to look up as I’d never heard of the guy) and a Johnny Cash-esque “Truck Drivin’ Song” with a gender-bending theme reminiscent of “A Boy Named Sue.” As usual for me, I like some of the more obscure tracks. In this case, “Your Horoscope For Today” (“You are the true Lord of the Dance, no matter what those idiots at work say”) and the eleven-minute “Albuquerque,” which isn’t so much a song with lyrics as a sort of spoken-word story with musical accompaniment. I guess.
The ever-present polka medley, in this case called “Polka Power!”, is a bit weak. Although the Spice Girls opening demonstrates the inanity of their lyrics, and the polka version of Marilyn Manson’s “The Dope Show” is an interesting contrast with the original.
Like several other recent CD’s I’ve gotten, this one has bonus data tracks. In this case it’s a fourteen-minute video of a show Al did for the Disney Channel, sort of a mockumentary on him. Interesting, but not anything really spectacular. Unless you’re a big fan of Ed McMahon. (Other CDs that I know have additional info include Cirque du Soleil’s Quidam, Aerosmith’s Nine Lives, and the Squirrel Nut Zippers’ Hot.)
Dog Quirks
Just in case anyone cares. This is what I write instead of telling everyone about our kids, because we don’t have any.
For some reason, Beasley (MS-Word invariably suggests “Beastly” during the spell check) likes to get underneath things that drape down onto her and flick her tongue in and out like she’s licking an invisible Popsicle. (Or maybe she’s pretending to be a snake.) Azalea, Nandina, and other bushes are best for this, but in a pinch, clothes hanging from the ironing board will do. So most everything we wear has dog hair on it before we put it on. She’s also fond of heartworm pills — so much so that we have to give them to her indoors and make sure she doesn’t bury them for later.
Beasley has successfully completed her obedience class, and is now an Obedient Dog. (Really! We’ve got a piece of paper that proves it.) Although the standards aren’t that stringent, I must admit. She’s better-behaved than when we first got her, so it’s an improvement.
Speaking of Kids. . .
My sister is going to have one, tentatively around April 9. Amanda’s siblings already have theirs, but this will be my parents’ first grandchild, so it’s time for them to begin the long, slow descent into dotage. (I think that’s the word I want. See what happens when you do your own editing? At least it’s better than “doddering senility”, which was my first choice.) They’ve already started buying baby clothes, and are on the lookout for cribs and car seats. Maybe this will keep them away from our place long enough for us to do some remodeling the way we want to, instead of the way they want to.
Halloween
. . .is one of Amanda’s favorite holidays. Never got into it much myself, as it usually requires hanging around little kids too much. But I had an idea of dressing as Bubba, the other Teletubbie, the one they don’t allow on TV. The fat, hairy, unshaven, cigar-smoking, whiskey-guzzling black sheep of the Teletubbie family. Who rigged up the pudding machine (or whatever that thing is) to make moonshine, and went rabbit hunting before one of the shows and made the flaming baby head cry. Ever wonder why that show is so weird? LSD in the pablum.
Mailing Comments
No mailing comments this time around, as I can’t seem to find my last copy of Elanor. Oh, it’s around someplace, I just don’t know where.
Creative Use of White
Imagine your own conclusion to this column in the space below. It doesn’t have to make sense, because they never do. If you close your eyes and think really hard, it might magically appear!