in the Ural Mountains, 1898...

the man with the rifle is concealed by rocks and brush....the half-dozen Cossacks ride the trail below him, along with the Imperial officer on the fine strong horse.....he enters the cross-hairs of the scope. The crack of a rifle shot echos in the narrow canyon, the officer's horse whinnies and rears as it's rider drops to the ground, landing all akimbo, dead by the look of it.....the Cossacks jump off their mounts, grabbing their carbines, taking position behind rocks and trees, nervously scanning the cliffs above for some sign of the sniper. But there is only silence, and no movement they can see.....

the tall tower

stands stark against the starry sky....there is light showing from the very top....no doubt the baleful Lord of the keep is busy at this freezing midnight hour with his conjurations and unholy communications with powers best not spoken of.....the wind whispers in the pines.....some animal cries in the distance.....one thin cloud passes over the face of the moon, swiftly.....something is moving close by in the brush....a low growl.....

late October

late October, originally uploaded by steve_tingle.

the rain falls in drifts

over the Thames....a few barges move downstream....the Captain watches for a while from his window, and then moves to poke up the fire. This weather gets into his back.....he goes to the sideboard for a small glass of port, and then sits down again in his wing-back chair. He glances at the book he has been reading, but doesn't pick it up. The clock ticks and tocks on the mantel....he hears a door shut downstairs.....Mrs. Orman moving about doing something....he thinks back to when he was a young man, with the rain drifting over the Seine, he in his rooms on the Left Bank, with only a poor little fire on the grate, but with the warmth of that French girl in his arms.....what was her name?

in the days of the Eastern Roman Empire

an ancestor of the Count mounts the tower stairs, carrying an oil lamp in the gloom of the snowy night....he moves slowly, dragging his left leg up after taking a step with his right.....he has not been hale since the campaign against the tribes from the East, when his horse fell on him in the battle by the river.....but he is still powerful in spirit, with a reputation as a seer and a mage....and he climbs his tower now towards his sanctum, where his familiar awaits, having ridden in from the clouds on a moonbeam....

it is snowing too

in St. Petersburg....the Count is close to the warmth of the fire in his opulent study, surrounded by books bound in leather and gold.....fine art adorns the walls....the knick-knacks are priceless....he is reading a letter from Natasha, his cousin on his mother's side....she is an anarchist, living hidden in the Urals, hunted by the agents of the Czar.....her lover watches her in the lamplight, as she slowly packs explosives into a ceramic doll.....he has his rifle in pieces on the table, making sure everything is clean and in working order....outside a wolf howls in the snowy night, a moonbeam sneaks through the clouds to glance off a long canine....the Count rings for the butler, he desires warm vodka....he is confused by the letter from his cousin.....the butler enters the study....his hair is perfect....

Back in London

Sturgis visits Lee Po, and then returns to his rooms to smoke a ball of opium.....he falls asleep and dreams vividly of strange warriors and brazen women partying wantonly in a great hall with pillars that rise up so high they are lost in a mist......he drinks from a golden cup, and eats his fill from a table laden with rich viands.....a beautiful woman with red lips and dark eyes smiles at him and laughs with him.....outside a wet snow begins to fall on the filth of the Soho streets.....urchins huddle in alleys, cursing the cold.....gin-soaked sailors, their wages wasted, wander back towards the river.....gentlemen in their oak and leather club rooms sip their port and sigh, close by the warmth of the fire.....a sinister looking fellow stands just outside the circle of light from a gas lamp on a nameless street, gathering his long cape closer around his lean body....his hair is perfect.....his lips draw back to reveal long pointed canines....his tongue plays around his lips....he idly fingers his chin-whiskers......

2009-10-15_UglySweaters-193

2009-10-15_UglySweaters-193, originally uploaded by Occidental College.

further on down the road

the postman stops at the store at the junction.....Pettigrew's old place.....it's a contract post office, as well as selling foodstuffs, dry goods, and what all....you go into the back and you can get some corn whiskey and cold water in a fruit jar.....mighty refreshing.....young Jake is back there with his rifle all taken apart, cleaning it up good.....Grandma Pettigrew is back there too, doing some needlework and smoking a corncob pipe. Sarah is in the kitchen, and something smells good. But you got to keep moving, or you won't get there....so up and off!

In the Smokey Mountains

near the end of forty miles of bad road, the postman on his mule hands a letter to cousin Emily, all the way from England. She reads of the sinister Mr. Sturgis, and of the Captain, who never seems to notice poor Mrs. Orman, much as she would like to be noticed.....Luke is off in the holler splitting wood for the coming Winter....the youngun's are still at Miss Mabel's schoolhouse.....she should find a hen to kill for supper.....

down the lane

the Captain wandered into the local public house. Terry behind the bar gave him a wink and a nod, and poured him two fingers of scotch, neat. Sunlight danced through the rear windows off the river, throwing dazzles off the bottles and the bar back mirror. Around eleven in the morning, it was as bright as it ever got in the Old Owl. Everyone looked snug and warm and settled, just the usual folk, old codgers mostly, and one or two younger roustabouts who had the morning off. Red haired Billy Corbin worked nights at the train yard, the Captain knew...he was probably about to head back to his rooms to sleep. The rest were like the Captain himself, at loose ends, just lounging at the pub with nothing better to do for hours.....

Mrs. Orman

peered through the curtains as the man in the shiny suit-coat came up the path from the gate.....Fred the dog slunk away from the man....she met him at the door, and asked if she could be of service? He responded that he was a Mr. Sturgis, looking for his old friend Mr. Belton, Captain Belton, he might be called. Was this the correct address? She directed him to the upstairs flat. She didn't much like the look of him. Emily, her American cousin, would probably describe him as "Looking like forty miles of bad road, and the mule has thrown a shoe." At the top of the stair, he knocks at the door. The Captain looks up from his book, and marks his place with a ribbon, and goes to the door. "Sturgis old man! How are you? Haven't seen you in ages! How did you find me here?" "Well, Captain, I inquired at the Palace of the Dragon, of our friend Lee Po, and he gave me this address up river. How are you then?" "Fine, fine, Sturgis....come on in and sit down, what are you doing nowadays? Still in the merchant marine?" "No, Captain, I've been ashore four or five years now, just beating about as it were....." They sit down and the Captain takes a second glass from the sideboard, and pours Sturgis and himself more of the port. "To old times!" They raise their glasses to each other, and Belton takes a good drink, while Sturgis drinks the glass off all at once. Aye, thinks Belton, still the same old Sturgis. I'll bet he's spent all his share on drink, and is here to touch me for a few pounds.

South China Seas, December 1888

The ship slid down the swell of the sea, white water splashed up from the bow, the ship twisted a bit from side to side, the Captain pushing at the wheel, and then rose up the next swell. The Mate peered into the storm, the engines throbbed deep beneath the decks. She would ride the seas alright, the Captain knew. The Mate reached in his jacket, and took out his flask to take a swig. The Captain pretended not to notice, the Mate was a steady enough man, they had been shipmates for years now, back into the wild old days. And this voyage might be the culmination of a long series of journeys, this time might be the big payoff, if they could make it back to England with what was down in the hold. Maybe they could go ashore and stay ashore, sail no more. Live like gentlemen, dress in nice suits, have regular lodgings, or maybe even own a cottage somewhere away from the city. The rain and spume whipped against the glass of the wheelhouse, the ship rose and fell and twisted, the engines continued their steady beat.

Wilmsley-on-Thames, June 1898

The older man most of the neighbors just called "the Captain" came down the lane, with his cane in one hand, and a paper wrapped parcel in the nook of his arm. Mrs. Orman's shaggy dog hung his tongue out and wagged his tale as the Captain came through the gate and went up the short path to the cottage. It was a sunny and mild morning, and the Captain seemed to be walking better than sometimes, with no chill in his joints. Mrs. Orman heard him open the door, and ascend the stairs to his rooms, not looking up from her knitting. The Captain didn't like climbing up and down stairs very much, what with his bad back and gimpy knee, but the rent was cheap, and the big bay window of his sitting room looked out over the river. He leaned his cane into the corner inside the door, and carried his parcel to the little kitchen. That was another good thing, a place to fix his own meals, which he found to be cheaper than paying board as well as room, plus he thought he was a better cook than Mrs. Orman anyway. Back in the sitting room, he went to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of black port, and then lowered himself into his favorite chair, looking out through the window. A few high white clouds scudded through the sky, on the breeze coming up off the sea. He could hear children laughing and playing along the riverbank. It was the 15th of the month, so he had two more weeks until another deposit would come into his bank, but he had enough food money on hand, and no outstanding bills of any sort. He put money out of his mind, and picked up the book he had been reading for the last few days, slipping away into the days of the Eastern Roman Empire. Down the lane, a gentleman in a somewhat threadbare suit strolled along, looking for the house number he had been given by the Chinaman in Soho, looking to find the old Captain, who had hidden himself away from his former confederates for some years now......

outer space natural

NGC 281: A Bustling Hub of Star Formation (NASA, Chandra, 11/15/07), originally uploaded by nasa1fan/MSFC.

The bulk of the sources around the molecular cloud are coincident with emission from polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons, a family of organic molecules containing carbon and hydrogen

is this natural?

From out in the Ort Cloud the Sun becomes just the biggest star among a zillion other stars.....it is cold out here beyond belief.....the warmth that nurtures nature doesn't get out here.....no wonder ancients worshiped the Sun, the giver of life.....aboard our little spaceship warmth comes from tricks with physics and technology.....it's like sleight of hand, mind of man over the heart of the matter.....but I heard somebody argue once that since man is natural, then his tricks are just an extension of what is natural.....words.....in the beginning was the word.....whatever way you look at it, or talk about it, it's cold out here. Cold and scary and lonely and for sure Beyond the Pale.....outside, far gone, tripped out. We have found some good stuff out here....good in that there are molecules present that we can use to feed the chemical manipulators so we can make more air, and water, and even food. Food is just various types of organic molecules....and damned if there aren't organics floating around out here with all the other stuff. How did that happen? Nature must be bigger than the Earth, after all.....

meat and two sides, with gravy

meat and two sides, with gravy, originally uploaded by steve_tingle.

trees

trees, originally uploaded by steve_tingle.

I found out from a little booklet that the City of Clinton puts out for tourists that this park does have a name....Clinton Mills City Park, of course!

Jamacha, Oct 11, 2009

Jamacha, Oct 11, 2009, originally uploaded by tinguru.

Tingle dudes

Jamacha, Oct 11, 2009, originally uploaded by tinguru.

Glenfarclas 10 Years Old Single Highland Malt Scotch Whisky

Glenfarclas 10 Years Old Single Highland Malt Scotch Whisky, originally uploaded by Glenfarclas Distillery.

not many people

are around anymore.....when the expansion fell back in on itself there was lots of infrastructure left hanging out beyond Mars orbit with nobody to use it......the Powers just cancelled contracts by fiat......I was way out around Neptune, in a singleship on a "science" mission.....a commercial exploitation mission of course, in actuality......somehow some program got screwed up, and I was still thousands of klicks out there when the last company ship left headed back to the inner system.....when I finally got back to the rock, everybody else was gone.....I had the whole place to myself, a habitat designed for 100 plus workers.....they left lots of air, water, and food....wasn't any profit in hauling it back down.....and no profit in getting me out of there either....so here I am. The AI is still up and running, and I'm on the SolarWeb.....but I'm alone as alone can get. So, what have I got to complain about? That's seems to be what Management is telling me....Hell, they are paying me triple time and a half, with full benefits....they figure I'm ripping them off.....but I can't blow a lot a bucks taking somebody out to dinner, when there just plain isn't anybody any where around, can I? I sit in the executive lounge a lot, with the robowaiter standing by, with the bar towel over it's arm and all that....slowly working my way through the forty cases of single-malt scotch the big-wigs thought they needed. But I'm still sort of pissed off.....

lots of people were there

2009-10-05_B.Clinton-034, originally uploaded by Occidental College.

Oct 11, 2009

Oct 11, 2009, originally uploaded by tinguru.

the ort cloud - our solar system's debris field

the ort cloud - our solar system's debris field, originally uploaded by zen.

When the war was over

there was lots of surplus stuff you could get online.....we put together our money and got four Space Navy powersuits.....not armed suits, just working suits like the Spacebees used when they were building asteroid bases or whatever.....still, you felt like Iron Man in one of those things, with augmented muscle and sensory arrays and flight capability and computer power.....and you are bullet-proof, pretty much.....unless somebody is shooting at you with a hypervelocity mirco-cannon or something like that.....and we claimed our Rights under the Omnibus Treaty and went out to stake claims in the Ort Cloud. We were the only four left alive from our old unit, and we had been through so much hell together that we decided to stick with it a while longer and see if we could survive the peace like we'd survived the war. There was an outfit in Mars orbit that was strapping old constant boosters onto those multipurpose space frames they had used for ferrying troops and supplies there towards the end of the hostilities....we begged and borrowed enough to equip one of those with life support for about 24 months......and we were gambling our lives that we would find some rock or hunk of ice out there with something on it we could parley into more months of survival.....a lot of desperate vets were doing the same thing......

wilderness tour ship

Two Tickets 28, originally uploaded by Happy Weasel.

sort of deflated

After we finally made contact with the greater galactic civilization, a lot of the human race felt sort of deflated and humbled when it became clear that our little spiral arm had long been a reservation that was off limits to development, because the powers that be wanted to preserve some areas in a natural state. The Greater Galactic Department of Parks and Recreation got some egg on it's face when some minor functionary goofed up and let a cruise ship that was giving a Wilderness Tour impinge on our solar system. They had to rush in an improvised first contact unit, to explain to us that they did value our race, and were kind of sorry that they had left us in such a primitive state for so long, subject to death and disease and religion and other such nasty things.....but it had long been an accepted mandate that some places were just off limits, since such pristine territory is held to be precious....they would give us lots of gifts to try to make things right.....they hoped we would understand....

Me&ColtonFireTruck

Me&ColtonFireTruck, originally uploaded by carolinedhillon.

biospace 2

"Well, lets see, they brought you in from Moon Base C. Got you in a lava gel, warmed up just past freezing. And whisked you down the earth. That took, let me see...."

Dora got her flembot it register me.

"...ah, that took around three days. Then the medbots got to work on you. We had to lift you out of the lave gel, raised your temp up to 99.6, got the nanobots on you, And there you sat for three months. All the nutrients you needed came in through the jelly."

I finished of my mashed potatoes, was licking the spoon.

"Three months? Ok, what happened during the three months?"

"Well the medbots got to work on you."

I finished off my ice tea.

"Hmmm, Dora, can I see a Doctor?"

Snowstorm on Big Rock Candy Mountain

Snowstorm on Big Rock Candy Mountain, originally uploaded by Hadassah28.

the way there

lies within. Less is more. Concentrate. Focus. What is this, some kind of pop metaphysics? Well, turns out that it is the deepest physics.....She said that she would show us the way to the stars, and all the people at the graduate schools of physics and all the government labs and all got geared up to receive a bunch of technical data to use to build space arks or warp-gates through X dimension or whatever it was going to take. Legislatures started looking for tax money.....but it wasn't like that at all....She just got on TV and started teaching trans-spatial meditation....some people got it right away, and many people couldn't figure out what the hell she was talking about....a lot of the poor and downtrodden huddled masses yearning to breath free caught on quickest.....no professional politician seemed to get it.....not many wealthy people either....the old eye of the needle thing? A lot of left-wing commie pinko fag tree-huggers just walked off the planet, leaving reactionary hardline chumps seething with rage.....this isn't fair! I'm a decent God-fearing hard-working clean-shaven proper citizen, but I don't get to go to Big Rock Candy Mountain...... my slime-ball longhair dope smoking neighbor just took his wife and kids by the hand and said "Adios!" and spun around three times and they all shrank down to a point of light and were gone! Dammit, I pay my taxes too!

> Interstellar Overdrive (Black Planet)

> Interstellar Overdrive (Black Planet) , originally uploaded by Ambassade d'Anglia.

bioscope 1

In fact, when they brought be down to the ground, on earth side, my brain had been stroked out. I was a mess. I was drooling out of the corner of my mouth and speaking in tongues, to which, no one lessoned. I could have been talking about the fiery red monolith which was coming for us. But, that was not concerned by the medsuits who flocked around me. I never wanted to see outer space again, I just wanted to sleep the sleep of dreams. Work planting seeds. Or on a ship, making it safe for fish to be about. But that did not happen.

I woke up in a bath of jelly, it smelled sweet. I had a tube down my throat the hurt like hell. The pain was coming back to me. My head was shaven and microbots were swarming around me. I recall my Grandfather going thru a stroke, it took him 7.8 years to be rid of it, this was at 87. I was 42. It took me 3 months with the bioscope to get my brain back in order. All in the bath of jelly. The fact that I recalled Grandpa at all was a miracle. I went to sleep then.

When I awoke again I was in a room with fairies on the wall paper, in a bed, my skull was inching.

"Well, there you are."

I focused on a dreamy nurse. My penis went erect.

"It is ok, your penis is none of my concern." the nurse said.

"Can you follow my pen?" She said.

I could not see it, but then I did. I followed it around the room.

"Good, good!" She was please with herself.

"Do you want some food?"

"Ah....oh heysus...I am starving..."

"Well, why don't you get, hmmm, your rod under control and meet me outside. There are cloths for you in the closet."

I was starting on my second heap of mashed potato's, drowned in peas and gravy. There was "turkey" under it. Probably a tofu based. It was then that the dreamy nurse came over to me and sat down. She had coffee with sweetener. It smelled good. It took me a moment to focus on her name tag. It did not make since to me. A jumble of letters. I blinked. And the jumble of letters became a name. Dora. My nurse was named ,
"Dora".

"So, Dora, I was a mess after the stroke. What happened to me?"