The night I was taken away from it all

 It was twenty-five years ago tonight that for the very first time I was sent to a psychiatric hospital.

The bipolar disorder had started during the preceding winter, but I didn't know that's what it was (it would be another four years before that diagnosis was handed to me).  I had been manic most of the winter and then the depression - what I came to call " the dark fountain" - decided that it was time for it to show itself.  The death of my grandmother toward the end of March intensified the blackness.  All I came to think about was death and dying.  Everywhere I looked I saw dead people waiting to happen.  It was a dark fountain that was smothering me, driving me to the brink.

It got bad enough that one night some friends took me to the hospital in Burlington.  The doctors there said that I was having intense depression.  They were worried about my safety, afraid that I might do something to myself.  And so it was that they signed orders to have me taken involuntarily to John Umstead, a mental hospital northeast of Raleigh.  I got to call Dad before I was to leave the hospital, so my family knew where I was going to.

A cop came in a short while later.  He took me out to his cruiser.  We were five minutes down I-40 when his radio crackled to life and he was instructed to turn back around to the hospital and pick up another patient: another "compassionate", the situation was called.  So we returned to the hospital.  The officer opened the back door and told me to come out and he said he had to put handcuffs on me.  I was horrified: I'd never been handcuffed before.  I asked if I could just stay in the car and he said that was against the rules.  So I had cold carbon steel slapped on my wrists for the first time in my life.  We went back into the hospital though the emergency entrance.  I did my best to hide the handcuffs from view, but nobody seemed to notice anyway.

A few minutes later the new patient, a young lady in her early twenties, was brought out.  The cop put handcuffs on her too.  And so he escorted us out and into the back seat of the car and we took off.

"Hi," the girl told me.  "I'm Tracy.  I'm crazy."

She began telling me about how her parents thought she was going to cut herself again.  She told me about sticking pins and needles into her bare arm.  I asked her why did she do that.  "Oh, just to feel something," she told me.  Tracy kept talking for the whole ride.

It took about an hour to get to John Umstead.  We were taken inside.  Tracy was met by two orderlies who took her down one way and I never saw her again.  The officer took the cuffs off of me and I was taken down the other way.

I was brought to a room and told to take my clothes off.  I did, behind a cloth screen so nobody had to look at me without attire.  My shirt and jeans were taken away, my shoes too.  They let me keep my underwear.  I was given pajamas and "grippy" socks to put on.

A short while later a psychiatric nurse came into the room to give me a preliminary examination.  She asked some questions.  She also gave me a series of numbers and asked me to remember them.  A little while later she asked me what the numbers were and I recited them back to her.

She asked me "Who is the President of the United States?"

Sometimes when things are dark, I fall back into using humor.  That's what I tried to do this time, because this was about as bleak as things could get...

"Hillary Clinton," I replied.

The nurse gave me a harsh look and I could immediately tell that I had answered way wrong.  I quickly told her that I was kidding.  "I'm just really nervous right now," I added.

She made a note of what I had told her.

She finished the exam.  By this point it was approximately 2 a.m. on Friday morning.  I was brought to the ward. Taken to a room.  There were two beds inside, but nobody else was in there.  The assistant told me that if I needed anything that I could come to the nurses station down the hallway.

They had let me keep my book bag all this time.  There had been nothing in it but my Bible.  I sat up on the bed and crossed my legs, and took out my Bible and held it close to my chest.  I started rocking back and forth, my Bible a talisman against the night.  Whatever gets you through the darkness.  I tried to pray, but the words would not come.  All I could think about was that I was two hours away from home, in a part of the state where I knew nobody.  I was in a mental hospital, the last place that I had ever expected to be.  The depression was playing on the edges of my mind but I was too frightened and confused to really let that overwhelm me at the moment.

I looked out from my window.  There was a darkened courtyard beyond the glass.  I stood there, and suddenly thought that this was like that scene toward the beginning of The Godfather Part II, where the child Vito Corleone is locked up in the room at Ellis Island because he's too sick to proceed on to America.  Looking out his window at the distant Statue of Liberty, young Vito starts to sing.

I was locked up too.  Away from the world that I knew.  But I couldn't sing.  

"Especially," I reminded myself, "not in Italian."

"Trump tariffs" will bring game manufacturing back to America

It's been awhile since I've been able to enjoy any real gaming and by that I mean board games, miniatures games, what have you.  The most interaction I've had lately with anyone in the competitive sphere has been coinciding with the twentieth anniversary going on right now of the online role-playing Guild Wars... and I rarely get into that "player vs. player".

No, I'm talking about actual games one-on-one in the physical world, where you and your opponent are looking at each other across the table and able to pick out each other's nuances.

But gaming is still something I keep an eye on, if only to stay up to date on what the industry is up to.  And lately that has inordinately crossed over into the realm of true-life politics.  Enough so that it bears bringing up by your friend and humble blogger.

The tariffs that have recently been imposed on products coming into the United States, particularly from China, are eliciting a wide response from the gaming industry.  There have been more than I have been able to readily keep up with, but this very thoughtful statement by Loren Coleman, CEO of Catalyst Game Labs, is typical (it's also one of the best written I've seen coming out of the businesses being affected).  Incidentally, Catalyst Games Lab is the current publisher of BattleTech: a game and fictional universe that I have long admired and respected.

Coleman's treatise however is missing one element that otherwise has been ubiquitous throughout writings from interests in the community: it doesn't emphasize that these are "Trump tariffs".  Most are making it clear in no uncertain terms that the tariffs - and the resulting higher cost of games - are the result of the policies of President Donald Trump.  Coleman's omission of that terminology is something I am glad to take note of.

It is the general consensus of game publishers that the tariffs are making it much more difficult to market their products.  The smaller companies especially are feeling the impact.  And that is regrettable.  It absolutely is.  Not I nor anyone that I personally know want companies in America to be squeezed out of making a profit that in better circumstances would be enjoyed more.

But these are not those "better circumstances".

So let me cut to the chase: I for one as a gamer don't mind the higher costs.  I'm not unsympathetic to the American publishers but I'm also not blind to the reality of the situation.

And that is this: I would rather there be a temporary increase in the price of games, because of the tariffs, if that means we start transiting manufacturing of games back to the United States.  In the long run we are going to likely be thankful that we did that.

For far too long, American companies have looked to China for the production of goods that are ostensibly the results of domestic conception and design.  It's been cheaper, the argument has been.  No doubt that it has.  But it has also incurred a cost in jobs and financially overall.  That is money that could have been better kept infused within our own economy.

For sake of good as least expensive as it could probably be, we have been inflicting enormous harm to our country.  And it's been this way for many long decades.

The tariffs that President Trump has imposed - and which we should hope that Congress enshrines in legislative action should it come to that, though it can also be argued that Congress long ago already passed along the power of tariffs to the executive - are admittedly going to make a lot of items on this country's store shelves more expensive for the foreseeable future.  That is no doubt going to be an effect that trickles down to smaller businesses.  But I don't know if that's going to be avoidable.  This is the cost of having production being in China and other foreign countries all this time.  That should not have happened.  American companies, including game publishers, should have kept the manufacture of their products here to begin with.

In the grander scheme of things, the higher prices we will pay because of tariffs are our own fault.  We wanted cheap goods, we got them... but there was always going to be a price to pay in the end.

I love playing games, be it Go or Settlers of Catan or X-Wing Miniatures.  But I love our country even more.  And I would rather there be a temporary higher costs of games and other products, that would precede bringing their manufacture back to the U.S.  Because among other things doing so will bring about more permanent cheaper prices for us in the long run.

American game publishers should have kept manufacturing here to begin with.  But they didn't.  And now we are going to have to make up for letting China make the actual physical product all this time.

But I can't emphasize it enough: this won't last forever.  This is going to incentivize bringing the products of our own ingenuity back to where they rightfully belong.  This is temporary.  Nobody apart from our foreign competitors wants there to be higher prices forever.  That won't do anyone on our side any good.  Americans like stuff and they're willing to be reasonable in how much they pay for it.  It's going to hurt for awhile to have some good things, but in the long run we are going to be thankful that we did.  It will be more jobs in this country, a stronger economy, and yes even lower prices at the friendly local game store among other retail outlets.

The pain is momentary.  But the benefits are forever.  If we want to keep them, anyway.

Be of good cheer.  And hang on for awhile.  It may take a year, or three.  But we've done this before.  Some are comparing what Trump and his allies are doing to the Smoot-Hawley Act and are declaring that the tariffs will lead to another Great Depression.  I on the other hand see this more as being in the line of President Reagan's efforts in the early Eighties to bring back American industry.  Those measures worked magnificently, and we were all the better for it.  I'd dare say the entire free world profited from our taking more control of our own destiny.  It worked then and it can and will work now.

It's going to be tough.  But it's going to be worth it.

And when this is over, I will be more than happy to engage in a few games of BattleTech with this blog's readers.  It's been too long since I've gotten to play House Kurita.  I promise to be honorable.

BEING BIPOLAR, Part Fourteen: The Cost

Being Bipolar is a series that began in the winter of 2011.  Every so often I write about what it is to live with the mental illness known as bipolar disorder, or manic depression as it's also often called.  I do this in the hope that others will gain insight and understanding about diseases of the mind, and also I do this in an attempt to inspire others who live with such conditions.  These diagnoses don't have to be the end of the chance for a good life.  I want to believe that in however small a way, I might be helping people realize that.  In this series I attempt to write about the subject with honesty and with candor and, on occasion, with humor.  I am not a psychiatrist.  However I do come from a background of being a state-certified peer support specialist in the South Carolina Department of Mental Health for four years.  It is especially in that capacity that I do my best to document what it is to exist alongside mental illness.  If you are experiencing a mental health crisis, especially if you are having thoughts of self-harm of harm to others, please consider calling 911, or go to your nearest hospital emergency room.  Trust me, I've been there, done that.  You may also find help and encouragement from a support group, such as those sponsored by mental health advocacy organizations like National Alliance on Mental Illness (nami.org).  Help is available.  You only need reach out for it.  People care about you.  Remember that.

This has not been one of the better seasons of my life.

For a year I had an amazing career as an artificial intelligence trainer.  A dear friend had recently gotten her foot in the door of that industry and she was able to get me started in that also.  After nearly four wonderful years at the state department of mental health - a position I would have stayed in forever had the economy not become so bleak - it was a great break to have.  It paid good money.  But more importantly to me, it was a chance to use the vast majority of the skills and experiences I have picked up throughout my life.  I got to bring those to bear upon the tasks at hand.  The research and analytical skills that I gained early on and finely honed during my time in college lent themselves well to the job.  It played to my skills for writing.  It was getting to use a mind that has always spanned matters as far apart from each other as World War II history and aerodynamics and Catholic theology, and everything in between.  I was on the cutting edge of technology, using my full mental toolbox, and I was thriving with purpose fulfilled.

And then, I was downsized.  Which is a bare euphemism for "let go".  I wasn't the only one either.  A lot of people were dismissed.  I was told that I was very good, but I didn't have seniority enough to keep me aboard.  And so I found myself out of the AI business.

Will I get back in?  I think so, sooner than later.  It's such an evolving field, and admittedly quite a scary one.  But the technology is still a long ways off from AI on the level of science-fiction creations like WOPR from WarGames, or Skynet.  At its heart, artificial intelligence is advanced mathematical set theory married to dialogue emulation.  For all their seemingly vast power computers still can't simulate the human factors of desire, intuition, mystery, and love.  That isn't going to change anytime soon.  But I've been told that I've got significant talent when it comes to "whispering" to AI.  So in the long run I think I'm going to do okay.

It's the time being that is so lousy...

So this is now my fourth month without a real job.  I'm looking around for something, anything within reason, that will let me pay the bills.  There are some remote jobs that I've found, but I've discovered during recent years that I am best engaged alongside other people.  That is one of the things that I loved most about the peer support specialist position at the mental health office: I didn't just work with others, I got to help them, in so many ways.  The same friend who got me involved in the AI field told me that I really am at my best, most in my element, when I'm helping people.  I think she may be right about that.

I'm looking for honest work, something for the time being until a better opportunity arises.  Unfortunately I'm coming up horribly short.  It's still a bad market for job seekers out there.  And I wonder if there are other qualities that are working against my favor, but that would be digressing considerably.

That, as much as anything, is what enticed me to update my LinkedIn page, which is something that I haven't touched or looked at and perhaps even thought of that much in the past ten years or so.  When I first heard about LinkedIn, I thought it was a gimmick.  But better minds than I convinced me that it could be an effective tool to get myself "out there" for potential employers.  I spent much of this past weekend giving it an overhaul...

...And it was tough.  The past several years weren't so bad.  I've had employment more or less since 2013, when I began freelance technical writing.  But there was a ginormous span of time before then that I didn't have any employment at all.

That was the period of my life when I was hit the hardest with manic depression.  It made it impossible for me to focus enough to work any job whatsoever.  Those "lost years" were spent fighting my own neurobiology turned against itself... and that's pretty much it.  There were no great accomplishments or personal achievements in my life during those many years.  There was only a diseased mind and a thrashing about to control it with medications and counseling.

I lost a lot during that time.  Job opportunities.  My faith.  Friendships.  Self-control of my baser instincts.  I even lost my wife.  And that's something I will never forgive myself for.  Many times I lay awake at night especially, and feel haunted by all the people who I drove away while in the midst of madness.  So often it has made me want to die.  At times I have even prayed to God to let me die.  Because then maybe I can go to Heaven and see everyone I hurt and maybe... maybe... they would want to see me, too.  Especially those who had been closest to me.  My cousin Robin told me awhile back that we will love deeper than we ever could on this earth: "Grace will abound" and there they will finally know how much I loved them and still love them.

Relationships.  Purpose.  Career.  God.  All of those things and more went into that abyss along with my employment history and if they ever came out it was met by a person with a more jaded and wounded outlook on life than one should have.  I've thought that if I could save my professional life, that maybe everything else for a full and meaningful existence would fall into place.

So I had to examine my experiences in my LinkedIn profile.  And that big blank chasm was driving me crazier than usual.  It made my page something that I would be very hesitant to share with a prospective employer.  Questions would be asked and I would have to explain myself.  I can not lie.  That's the last thing a person should want to attempt with the people considering them for a job.  What was I to do?

It was that same dear friend who came through for me again.  She suggested something that was brilliant, and I probably might never have thought of this.  As she put it, those "lost years" do count for something after all.  They were a time when I was faced with a life-altering challenge that had to be confronted, with no choice in the matter.  Reining in my thoughts and emotions became a full-time occupation.  And it's something that I will spend the rest of my life on this earth striving to maintain what control I have over it.

There is now something filling in that gaping hole in the chronicle of my employment.  From April of 2004 - the month that the diagnosis of bipolar disorder was given to me - on through to August 2013 and the start of my freelance writing career, I was "Health Manager" at "Overcoming Adversity".  And that isn't a falsehood.  Those are nine years which are now accounted for, and there was some work scattered throughout it here and there.  But the highest priority was my well-being.  And I can hold my head high knowing that I was doing my best to overcome the obstacle of mental illness, trying to have some semblance of a full life.

I prefer to believe that the time since then has demonstrated that I've come a long way indeed.  Of late I have been on the forefront of the biggest technological revolution since the rise of the Internet.  I've been a mental health specialist who not only helped others, I was able to persuade some out of making the very worst mistake that a person can make in this world.  I've been a news reporter and writer of opinion pieces read by a vast audience.  For more than a year I was producing videos for a daily television broadcast.  The year that I spent traveling across America with my dog Tammy is part of the record too, and that became one of the greatest experiences I've ever had.  I've written a memoir, spanning well over a hundred thousand words covering the entire length of my life, that is now being pitched to literary agents.

None of those things would have been possible without that working on myself for almost a decade.

Bipolar disorder has cost me a lot of things.  But I want to think that it hasn't necessarily cost me my future.  It will be twenty-five years at the end of this month since my first trip to a behavioral health facility.  At the time I was very confused, very upset, and very frightened.  At the time I thought that my life was over with, that there was no hope left.  That was now half my lifetime ago and the worst of my condition was yet to come.  And if anyone had told me then that life was going to get even harsher for me, well... Lord only knows what I might have done.

(An entire chapter of my book is devoted to the six days I was hospitalized in that place.  It's pretty thorough.  Right down to the movie that the staff played for us that Friday night and the picture that I drew and put on the wall next to my bed.)

But here I am, today.  I admit to having some envy.  Borderline jealousy, really.  I look at the LinkedIn pages of people I know, and theirs are laden with achievements.  Maybe that's why I spent so much of the weekend trying to figure out how to make mine more impressive, not just for sake of potential employers either.  I'm glad that I did though.  Maybe God used it to wink at me, a little.  Perhaps He used my friend toward that, too.  The cost has been more than any person should have to deal with.  But when I looked at my page after working on it for awhile, I had to admit to myself: "Wow, that's pretty impressive.  I've come a long way after all.  I've got nothing to be ashamed of so far as my career is concerned.  Maybe God hasn't given up on me."

I might say that I could be content with that.  But I'm not content.  I never have been and I probably never will be.  Alexander on the edge of India wept because he thought there were no more worlds to conquer.

God willing, that will not be me.

Kilmar Garcia: A mess of his own making

I've been occupied with a lot of real-life matters over the course of the past few weeks.  Those have kept me from being "tuned in" to much of the current news.  The last several days though have seen a lot of chatter about Kilmar Abrego Garcia: the "Maryland man" from El Salvador who was sent back to his country of origin last month courtesy of the Trump Administration.  And there is a lot that could be said about this case: from the dubious rationale he used to enter this country, to the possible violations of the Logan Act by the Democratic Party in trying to bring Garcia back to America.

(Say, why isn't there that kind of concern for the U.S. citizens who have suffered loss and injury and death at the hands of illegal immigrants?  Seems like the Democrats - their elected officials and party leadership especially - have chosen the Kilmar Garcia affair as their mountain to die on.  That kind of strategy ain't gonna help them come next election, I have to believe.)

Anyway, I've had some time in the past couple of days to study the matter, to ask questions, and to elicit some discussion.  I must thank everyone who chimed in and shared documentation about it.

What's my take on this situation?

I'm now left with the conclusion that though the administration made an error in process, the fact is that Garcia was not supposed to be in the country at all.  His rationale for asylum was filed years after his arrival in the United States, it can't readily be said that he was fleeing danger (because a gang was targeting his mom's tortilla business?).  It can't be said that he would be in danger if he returned to El Salvador of his own volition: the gang he said was threatening him has for all intents and purposes been eliminated.  And there is substantial evidence gathered by law enforcement that he is involved with MS-13: an organization on the list of terrorist groups and something that would completely invalidate Garcia's legal means of being in America.

So, to me at least, as I understand it, Garcia is in a mess of his own making.  He could have and should have returned to El Salvador on his own.  There exists no further reason for him to hide out in the United States.  He had every opportunity to make this right and he didn't take it.  And now he has wound up back in El Salvador anyway, among the gang members he allegedly was trying to escape to begin with.

That doesn't totally excuse the administration from deporting him the way that it did.  But in the scheme of things it expedited something that was likely going to happen anyway.

The moral of the story, friends and neighbors, is that if you enter the United States as a foreign citizen, mind your manners and adhere to our rules.  You'll stay out of trouble.  Don't wind up like Kilmar Garcia.

Look, I'm all FOR legal immigration on the path to citizenship.  I've been fortunate to know many who have come to this country from other lands.  One gentleman who I worked with a few years ago comes to mind, he was originally from South Africa.  I know Dad hired a number of people who came from Mexico and were in the process of bringing their families to the U.S. to become naturalized citizens.  Lately I've attended church with quite a lot of people who originated from Eastern Europe.

I still believe that America is the "melting pot" of people who intend to contribute to her greatness.  But those who come here to get the benefits without going through the proper process of demonstrating that they are going to take up the responsibilities of citizenship, they do NOT belong here.

Yes, many have come to America's shores to escape tyranny elsewhere.  I have known some of those also.  But the days of Jewish scholars fleeing the Nazi regime are long past.  Those seeking proper asylum here from oppressive and dangerous situations in their countries in large part either intend to return to their homelands someday, or they go through the naturalization process the *proper* way.  However they do it, they are honoring the laws of the United States as their host country.

But as much as we might want, the United States *can't* accept everyone who wants to be here.  There comes a time when the people of a country have to take matters into their own hands and make their native lands better.  Whether that's by assuming greater responsibility through choosing better leadership or by overthrowing their oppressors (like what happened in Romania in 1989).  The Americans can't do that for them and it would be wrong to try.  

Garcia seems to have wanted the benefits of being in America without assuming the responsibility.  He wasn't honoring American law.  And if he is the member of a gang deemed to be a terrorist organization, that's much worse for him.  He's not a man without a country.  He has a country.  It's called El Salvador.  And it's where he belongs.  That he married here and has children is something he contributed to his own mess.

Who knows, maybe there is still some way he could enter America lawfully in light of his family here.  It is sad that they are caught up in this.  But in the end, Garcia owns this, despite how the Trump administration bungled some things.

The #1 most popular page on this blog right now is...

...This post from April the 4th, 2005.  That's just over twenty years ago.  It's about the "midnight madness" that took place for the new merchandise related to Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith.  For whatever reason a lot of visitors have been coming to that post over the past few months and especially this last several days.

Is it because this spring marks the twentieth anniversary of Revenge of the Sith?  Or is it another factor?  I wonder if there's some sentimentality at work.  Twenty years ago we were a fandom united in spirit and purpose.  Star Wars was something that we shared and had common ground over.  It wasn't what it has devolved into.  It was a purer, and more beautiful, work.  Star Wars was one of the few truly good things in this world that could bring almost everyone together.  The third installment of the Star Wars prequel trilogy was by all accounts going to be the absolute last film of the entire saga to be made.  So we made the very most of that.

I like to believe that the old spirit of Star Wars is still there, beneath the mangled morass of corporate bungling driven more by agenda and less by the desire for good storytelling.  But as it is, there are no more midnight madness-es for Star Wars.  I don't know if there will ever be one again.  It's something you kinda "had to be there" and be part of the moment.

It is a nice thing though to be able to report that all these years later and I still keep in touch with a couple of people mentioned in that post.  Darth Larry (pictured above), better known as Brian Hodges, is a much-acclaimed and accomplished cello player in the Pacific Northwest region.  And the paths of Fonso (below with Yours Truly) and myself crossed quite a few more occasions, enough to now count him as a dear friend who has been there for me several times.

That is what Star Wars is best at doing.  Forging not just friendships but bonds of family.  Kathleen Kennedy and everyone else at Disney haven't understood that and quite possibly can't understand it.  Star Wars under their management just isn't resonating with the fans as it should.

But, Star Wars has endured before.  I well remember the "dark times" between Return of the Jedi and the publication of Heir to the Empire.  That was eight solid years that we went without the saga being added to.  If it wasn't for West End Games' Star Wars role-playing game we might have lost all hope.  Sometimes we wondered if many people even cared about Star Wars at all.  And then Timothy Zahn's first Star Wars novel came out and suddenly the mythology roared back to life.  Star Wars hadn't died out at all.  It just went into hibernation for awhile.

Star Wars right now is a mess.  I watched two episodes of The Acolyte and gave up on it hard.  Disney should disown that series just as it has other works in its history.  Star Wars needs to be cleaned up.  And made into something wholesome and agreeable to by everyone, especially children.

It has been that before.  It can be that again.

Remember that time when Mister Rogers got REALLY angry?

This episode of Mister Rogers' Neighborhood is legendary.  It dates to around 1980-ish and it shows something that had never been seen before and was not seen again anytime after.  It's the episode where Mister Rogers got mad.

Seriously, he was honked-off.  I mean VERY outraged.  He comes into the house and doesn't even put on a sweater or change his shoes.  He's not "Mister Rogers" the friendly neighbor but instead "Fred Rogers" the irate citizen.  Seems that he was given a parking ticket and he thinks that it's wrong.  His entire demeanor is angry and frustrated.

But a little song and an appearance before the judge later, and all is set right again.  Fred Rogers returns and after properly changing accoutrements the show is back on course.

Here is the episode where Mister Rogers gets upset and goes to traffic court.  It made a significant impact on me from the first time I saw it.  Every time since when I've had to go to court I ask myself "What would Mister Rogers do?"  It helps to calm my nerves.  I imagine there are other people who think back to this episode too.

There is a new teenager in the house!

 Happy Birthday little girl :-) 

Blast from my past: A Star Wars song parody of "Cat's In The Cradle"

There is a lot on my plate right now.  I'm having to figure some things out.  Time is not on my side.  But sometimes things percolate to the surface of my mind that I haven't thought about in years, or even decades.  And that's what happened today.

Waaaay back in 2001 and thereabouts  I was on the staff of TheForce.net, which at the time was the biggest website devoted to Star Wars on the whole heapin' web.  It wasn't long after I came onboard that I volunteered to take the vacant position of humor editor.  That was my main job for the next two and a half years, and it was a lot of fun!  I got to see quite a bit of reader-generated funny stuff that almost always left me smiling.

One of the things that I got to curate as humor editor was song parodies.  And they were out the wazoo.  There were tons of spoofs of well-known tunes that got the Star Wars treatment.  They were quite clever.  Here they are, still archived away on TheForce.net after all these years.

It was so much fun reading the song parodies, that I found myself wanting to write one of my own.  I wracked my gray matter trying to come up with something that would be on the level of the material that our readers were submitting.  Finally, one day an idea hit like a bolt of lightning.  I had the lyrics written in less than twenty minutes.  Then I shared my creation with the rest of the staff: it needed to pass muster with them before I could post it alongside the works of our readers.  The staff approved.  And so I shared my parody with the world.

It's a bit of a product of its time.  We had plenty of insider knowledge of Star Wars Episode II, but as you can see, especially with the reference to clones, I was a little off.  But it don't matter.  That makes it even more an artifact of its era.

So without further ado, here is my saga-fied parody.

Boy's In The Boonta 

Parody of "Cat's In The Cradle" by Harry Chapin
New Lyrics by Chris Knight

Found a child just the other day
Came to the world in an unusual way
He's got no dad, and his mom is a slave
He races pods in the desert haze
And he was flying 'fore we knew it, and as he grew
He'd say, "gonna use the Force like you, yeah
I'm gonna use the Force like you"

And the boy's in the Boonta racing on the dune
Against a Dug and a Tusken or two
"Weesa going home soon?"
"We don't know when, but he'll be a Jedi then,
You know he'll be a Jedi then"

Got to Coruscant just the other day
He was strong in the Force, Yoda had to say
"Can you teach me the Force?" They said "Not today,
You're too old to learn," he said "That's okay"
He walked away, but he smiled at Qui-Gon Jinn
And said, "I'm gonna be like him, yeah
You know I'm gonna be like him"

And the boy's in the Boonta racing on the dune
Little punk makin' the bad guys go boom
Is he a Padawan now?
He don't know when, but he'll be a Jedi then,
You know he'll be a Jedi then

Well, he met Lord Sidious just the other day
Became a Sith, Kenobi had to say
"I'm ashamed of you, you're now evil and vile"
He shook his head, and he said with a smile
"You're being a pest Ben, like stinkin' Bantha fur fleas
What you doing? Not that lava please!"

And the boy's in the Boonta racing on the dune
Fought the Federation, clones and Dooku
When'd the bad breathing come?
We don't know when, but he turned to the Dark Side then,
You know he had the Dark Side then

He's long been a Darth. His kids hid away.
He fought his son just the other day.
"Come to the Dark Side if you don't mind."
Luke said "I'm a Jedi, Dad, of the Lighter Side
You see my friends are my strength and the Emperor's through,
But it's sure nice fightin' with you Dad.
It's been sure nice fightin' with you."
And as he cut off the hand Luke could plainly see
"He grew up just like me,
MY DAD IS JUST LIKE ME!"

And the boy's in the Boonta racing on the dune
Palpatine's screaming down a mile or two
Will Vader be a ghost now?
He don't know when
But he'll be a Jedi then,
You know he'll be a Jedi then

The art of Andrew Griffith

A few weeks ago a good friend, the lovely and effervescent Kate Mary, posted something on her Facebook page.  It's a piece of art that she commissioned to have made and I could barely take my eyes off of it.  Here is Batman shredding on guitar as he and his colleagues rock it out.  You're going to want to click and enlargen this pic in order to absorb all the details:

This was created by Andrew Griffith.  Kate was right: he is enormously talented.  Here is some more of his craftsmansship.

I like this one especially: Orson Welles in his final role (Unicron from Transformers: The Movie).

And speaking of Transformers, here is Grimlock being ridden by Boba Fett:

Andrew has much more work on his website at glovestudios.com.  He also maintains an online shop for his art and he also has a site dedicated to his commission work

The first trailer for Tron: Ares just dropped

 Looks like we're  about to get a whole new meaning for  "going off the grid"...

Tron is one of the more delightful films from my childhood and I really liked Tron: Legacy when it came out in 2010.  Tron: Ares looks like it's going hardcore for the next iteration of the franchise's evolution: the digital world entering the real one.  Well, Flynn did tell his son in Legacy that the two realms are more connected than we realized.  And Clu believed he could invade our reality.  So that seed has already been sowed.

Maybe if Disney commits to a solid film without a "woke" agenda - like its Snow White currently bombing bigtime - I might see this.