The tentacular devourer of souls is even a credible political candidate for those who are tired of voting for the lesser of evils.

Now artist Marcelo Gallego shows us that the Great Old One, Cthulhu is for Valentine’s Day as well.

Ck’yarnak Ehye

Nothing says true love and desire more than one of these cards. They promise a lasting bond that even death cannot cleave asunder.

Add a getaway to Dunwich, MA and you and your love will have a Valentine’s Day you’ll always remember.

This the ending of a generation long era and is a bittersweet thing. Many people will miss both the Space Shuttle and America’s manned spaced program, which has probably ended as well.

Nostalgia aside, many people believe that we’ll miss America’s Space Program for a wide variety of tangible technological reasons, citing the plethora of technologies that they believe were either developed by NASA or at NASA’s request.

Perhaps happily, much of what they believe was done by or specifically for NASA wasn’t as the former chair of the Department of Physics at the University of Maryland and founder of Washington Office of the American Physical Society, Dr. Robert L. “Bob” Park has repeatedly stated.

Voodoo Science: The Road from Foolishness to Fraud: In 10 well-written essays suitable for a lay audience, Robert Park uses pathological science as a basis for far-reaching discussions on science, society, and the misinformation that reaches the public.

Dr. Park Touches upon everything from Deepak Chopra’s “quantum alternative to growing old,” and “free energy” machines, to the unwarranted hype surrounding the International Space Station.

Like some critics I disagree on some points with Dr. Park and think that he has underplayed the advances in science and technology came as derivatives of the Space Program. Voodoo Science is certainly worth reading however. It sets a framework from which the reader can move on to rationally approach scientific and technological advances as they truly are as opposed to how they are presented to the everyday layman.

I think much of the problem is the gross stupidity of those people, especially the lawyers, involved in the American courts.

In furtherance of my case I present into evidence the following excerpts from various court proceedings:

ATTORNEY:What was the first thing your husband said to you that morning?
WITNESS:He said , ‘Where am I, Cathy?’
ATTORNEY:And why did that upset you?
WITNESS: My name is Susan!

~*~

ATTORNEY:What gear were you in at the moment of the impact?
WITNESS:Gucci sweats and Reeboks.

~*~

ATTORNEY:Are you sexually active?
WITNESS:No, I just lie there.

~*~

ATTORNEY:This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your memory at all?
WITNESS:Yes.
ATTORNEY:And in what ways does it affect your memory?
WITNESS:I forget…
ATTORNEY:You forget? Can you give us an example of something you forgot?

~*~

ATTORNEY:Do you know if your daughter has ever been involved in voodoo?
WITNESS:We both do.
ATTORNEY:Voodoo?
WITNESS:We do.
ATTORNEY:You do?
WITNESS:Yes, voodoo.

~*~

ATTORNEY:Now doctor , isn’t it true that when a person dies in his sleep , he doesn’t know about it until the next morning?
WITNESS:Did you actually pass the bar exam?

~*~

ATTORNEY:The youngest son , the 20-year-old , how old is he?
WITNESS:He’s 20 , much like your IQ.

~*~

ATTORNEY:Were you present when your picture was taken?
WITNESS:Are you shitting me?

~*~

ATTORNEY:So the date of conception (of the baby) was August 8th?
WITNESS:Yes.
ATTORNEY:And what were you doing at that time?
WITNESS:Getting laid.

~*~

ATTORNEY:She had three children , right?
WITNESS:Yes.
ATTORNEY:How many were boys?
WITNESS:None.
ATTORNEY:Were there any girls?
WITNESS:Your Honor, I think I need a different attorney. Can I get a new attorney?

~*~

ATTORNEY:How was your first marriage terminated?
WITNESS:By death.
ATTORNEY:And by whose death was it terminated?
WITNESS:Take a guess.

~*~

ATTORNEY:Can you describe the individual?
WITNESS:He was about medium height and had a beard
ATTORNEY:Was this a male or a female?
WITNESS:Unless the Circus was in town I’m going with male.

~*~

ATTORNEY:Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a deposition notice which I sent to your attorney?
WITNESS:No, this is how I dress when I go to work.

~*~

ATTORNEY:Doctor , how many of your autopsies have you performed on dead people?
WITNESS:All of them. The live ones put up too much of a fight.

~*~

ATTORNEY:ALL your responses MUST be oral , OK? What school did you go to?
WITNESS:Oral…

~*~

ATTORNEY:Do you recall the time that you examined the body?
WITNESS:The autopsy started around 8:30 PM
ATTORNEY:And Mr. Denton was dead at the time?
WITNESS:If not, he was by the time I finished.

~*~

ATTORNEY:Are you qualified to give a urine sample?
WITNESS:Are you qualified to ask that question?

~*~

ATTORNEY:Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?
WITNESS:No.
ATTORNEY:Did you check for blood pressure?
WITNESS:No.
ATTORNEY:Did you check for breathing?
WITNESS:No.
ATTORNEY:So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?
WITNESS:No.
ATTORNEY:How can you be so sure, Doctor?
WITNESS:Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.
ATTORNEY:I see, but could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?
WITNESS:Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law.

Sadly, we as a nation will receive exactly the court system that we deserve. If, by our gross stupidity, we stock it with fools we will assuredly reap and rue the harvest of such.

NOTE: While the quotes above are pure humor and no more than that, even the book they were purported to be from, Disorder In The American Courts being a hoax, they do all seem so plausible, don’t they?

Given the long-running popularity of court proceedings as day-time reality TV ala Judge Judy or The People’s Court, and the inanity, ignorance, and gross stupidity regularly shown upon those programs, I suppose this is to be expected.

They really don’t like, and oft times rant about, what they perceive as odious and  needlessly invasive screenings at the hands and machines of the Transportation Security Officials (TSOs).

Ah, but that’s here on Earth. On Gor things would be quite different. The TSOs of Gor would brook no defiance from a mere passenger.

I watched as the woman cringed and attempted to draw back from Thargyur, the TSA official. “What gives you the right to inspect me?” she demanded.

“You will be inspected,” said the TSA officer.

“But I do not want to be inspected! I just want to board my plane and leave!” protested the woman.

“You will be inspected,” said the TSA officer.

“Please do not inspect me! I beg you, don’t strip me and place me in that scanning machine and fondle my breasts!”

“You will be inspected,” said the TSA officer.

Verily, the TSA officer moved forward and proceeded to inspect the woman.

“Stop inspecting me!” cried the woman. “I do not want to be inspected!” The TSA officer continued to inspect the woman. “Help! Police! Bystander! Congress! Somebody… stop this man!” she moaned. The TSA officer continued to inspect the woman. She was passenger. She would be inspected whenever the TSA officer desired to inspect her. In other permissive societies such as Earth’s, perhaps the TSA officer and passenger might be prevented from filling their true places in nature; but in Gor, the passenger had no rights. She was passenger. She would be inspected at will.

The woman cried muchly as the TSA officer finished inspecting her. Too, she had been inspected; but this did not matter. She was passenger.

“You have been inspected,” said the TSA officer.

“Yes,” sobbed the woman. “I have been inspected.”

“I have inspected you very well,” said the TSA officer.

“Yes.” sobbed the woman. “I have been inspected very well; I am a passenger and deserve to be well-inspected by the TSA.” And yet, despite her sobbing, the passenger felt more passenger-like than she ever had on Earth. Only here, on Gor, could she truly feel like a passenger, at the capable hands of a Gorean TSA officer who would inspect her whenever he wished.

The next passenger, having seen this, did not protest when the TSA official inspected her. She was passenger. Such was the way of things.

When the TSA official had finished muchly inspecting her, she said to the first passenger, “I have been well inspected.”

“I, too, have been well inspected,” said the first passenger.

“I will be inspected whenever the TSA pleases,” said the second passenger.

“I, too, will be inspected whenever the TSA pleases,” said the first passenger.

“I may now board my plane,” said the second passenger.

“I, too, may now board my plane,” said the first passenger.

“Tal,” said the second passenger.

“Tal, too,” said the first passenger.

I smiled as I watched the passengers depart. I did not figure the first passenger would object to being inspected again; for this was Gor, and over her life, the passenger would likely be touched and inspected by many TSA agents. Such is the place of passengers.

Yes, on the fantasy world detailed in 29 volumes (soon to be 30) by John Norman aka Dr. John Lange, things would be quite different for the passengers indeed. They would be inspected, swiftly learn to accept it, soon learn to like it, and eventually come to yearn for their inspections and to love their TSOs.

It is well known that the Gorean TSO, though often strict, is seldom cruel. The passenger knows, if she pleases him, her trip will be an easy one. She will almost never encounter sadism or wanton cruelty, for the psychological environment that tends to breed these diseases is largely absent from Gor. This does not mean that she will not expect to be beaten if she disobeys, or fails to please her TSO.

I wish you well!

Perhaps a scene such as this was part of what these Christians feared:

The Dumbledore Effect – Scary, Very Scary

Yeah, I can see where that might have scared them. The plots of the later books and movies were odd enough without adding that sort of love triangle sub-plot to the mix.

While nowhere near Sowell’s first publication, A Man Of Letters is a particularly great starting point for reading Sowell’s extensive body of work.

To-date Thomas Sowell has written 32 books and many more scholarly papers during the last 39 years on race relations, societal modeling, history, politics, and economics. Many of these books are considered seminal works in their respective fields. A Man Of Letters, however, gives a rare glimpse into the mind of the author and is, therefor, a great starting point for new readers of his works.

A Man of Letters traces the life, career, and commentaries on controversial issues of Thomas Sowell over a period of more than four decades through his letters to and from family, friends, and public figures ranging from Milton Friedman to Clarence Thomas, David Riesman, Arthur Ashe, William Proxmire, Vernon Jordan, Charles Murray, Shelby Steele, and Condoleezza Rice. These letters begin with Sowell as a graduate student at the University of Chicago in 1960 and conclude with a reflective letter to his fellow economist and longtime friend Walter Williams in 2005.

It is certainly worth the time it takes to read and is a book I highly recommend for everyone in America.

The basic premise is that the United States has degenerated into an authoritarian, quasi-Marxist state, strangling business, innovation, and personal liberty in favor of an non merit-based egalitarian result. John Galt responds by convincing the productive and innovative people – the “Men of the Mind” – to withdraw from society and take their skills and visions with them, “stopping the motor of the world” by withdrawing the “minds” that drive society’s growth and productivity.

John Galt is Prometheus who changed his mind. After centuries of being torn by vultures in payment for having brought to men the fire of the gods, he broke his chains — and he withdrew his fire — until the day when men withdraw their vultures.

– Francisco d’Anconia
Atlas Shrugged, Part II, Chapter V

One thing that strikes me as odd – and more than a little frustrating – is that both Rand’s supporters and detractors view this as a Dystopian future, as if it wasn’t, in pragmatic effect, already well underway.

Ayn Rand’s Future Is Now

In the real world Galt’s Gulch aka Mulligan’s Valley isn’t some concealed refuge in Colorado; it’s the global marketplace and the Third World labor pool. Business leaders are finding Galt’s Gulch in many places outside of America’s borders and jurisdiction.

• Decline of Manufacturing
  America no longer produces much domestically. Over the last 60 years there’s been slightly over of 66% drop in employment within factories inside the US and a commensurate rise in off-shoring manufacturing to places such as Mexico and China.
• Decline of Innovation
  Scientific and technological advances are also, more and more, coming from overseas. Companies are now paying scientists in China, India, Singapore, and other foreign lands to perform R & D instead of using more expensive domestic scientists and research facilities.

The motor is already stopping. Corporations, faced with the inability to compete globally with less restrictive regimes and with lower order economies while using domestic labor and facilities, are already “striking” and moving more and more of their operations outside of America.

Nineteen Eighty-Four

George Orwell v. Aldous Huxley - Divergent Distopian Predictions

Both Orwell and Huxley feared a future when we would be a captive culture. Orwell feared captivity by the State but Huxley feared captivity by own venality and pleasure seeking.

Orwell depicted a future society where books were banned and where the State would deprive us of information. Huxley posited a future society where would be no reason to ban a book, because there would be no one who would want to read one, but where so much data would be provided that we would be sunk into egoistic pacifism.

Orwell feared that the State would conceal the truth from us. Huxley feared the truth would be drowned out by the constant nattering stream of irrelevancies.

Simply put, Orwell feared hate and pain whereas Huxley feared love and pleasure. There is grim sense in both men’s fears; both the “carrot” and the “stick” are used to gain and maintain control.

The Future Is Now

The Civilized World in general and America very much in specific it poised at a watershed moment or tipping point where either Orwell’s or Huxley’s dire predictions could come true. The future in all its dystopian horror is now or, at least, looming on the horizon before us. This is something that the awake and aware among us know full well, though they, like Orwell and Huxley, are divided in their worries.

Conservatives, especially those referred to as the Religious Right or Social Conservatives are in Aldous Huxley’s camp. They fear that venality, lusts, and the pursuit of unrestrained transitory pleasures will create a society lost to itself and sunk in depravity.

Liberals, on the other hand, are in George Orwell’s camp. They fear that the State, under one pretext or another, will become forcibly despotic. They fear that hatred and fear will create a totalitarian regime ruling over a captive populace.

As for myself, I think that Huxley’s fears are the more likely to be realized in the near-term. I think it far more likely that the populace will blithely cede its liberty to some oligarchy in the course of its own decline into self-serving venality. Of course that doesn’t mean that, once in power, that oligarchy won’t begin to shift to a more Orwellian model.

Which, if either, do you think is more likely?

Alden Ackerman was 21 years old at the time of of his death from a German air strike on the battalion which was securing Rechrival, Belgium.

Robert Heinlein did more than offer his condolences though. He also launched a blistering and cruelly accurate attack on the bulk of science fiction fandom of the time. Heinlein passionately condemned the inaction of most fans and, not without cause, blamed these fans for the death of Forrest’s brother, Alden.

The transcript and scan of Heinlein’s letter is from Letters of Note.

311 S. Hicks St.
Philadelphia 2, Pa.
28 Jan 1945

Dear Forry,

Our hearts are sore at your loss and there is nothing we can say to relieve your personal anguish. Your brother died a noble and heroic death. It is my belief that he did in fact die to make a better world; it is for us who live on to see to it that a better world is accomplished. I am heartened that you regard it as your duty to follow through on his unfinished work.

I will not be able to supply an article for the fan publication you propose to publish in his memory. I dislike to have to tell you that I will not be writing for you, under the circumstances, and I feel that you are entitled to a full explanation. Forry, every day I am writing things which are, literally, dedicated to Alden, and to the many, many others who have died and are dying. My daily writings are dedicated to getting the war won quicker with the fewest number of deaths of our own. My writings are laboratory instructions, engineering reports, letters to manufacturers, and other things having to do with the tedious work of scientific research for war. It takes up all of my energy and all of my imagination and I have none left over for other matters. If I had any energy left over, I would know that I was not doing all that I could do and I would then, in truth, be disloyal to your brother’s memory.

(I have, not a belief, not a conviction, but a knowledge of personal survival. You said on your post card that you wanted to discuss the matter with us someday. We will be honored to do so.)

Forry, you have sought my advice on matters which worried you in the past. You have not sought my advice in this matter, but I am going to presume on our old friendship to offer you some. I know that you are solemn in your intention to see to it that Alden’s sacrifice does not become meaningless. I am unable to believe that fan activity and fan publications can have anything to do with such intent. I have read the fan publications you have sent me and, with rare exceptions, I find myself utterly disgusted with the way the active fans have met the trial of this war. By the fan mags I learn that many of these persons, who are readily self-congratulatory on their superiority to ordinary people—so many, many of these “fans” have done nothing whatsoever to help out. Many of them are neither in the army nor in war work. Many have found this a golden opportunity to make money during a war boom—by writing, by commercial photography, through the movies, or by other worthless activities—worthless when compared with what your brother Alden was doing. These bastards let your brother die, Forry, and did not lift a hand to help him. I mean that literally. The war in Europe would have been over if all the slackers in this country had been trying to help out—would have been over before the date on which your brother died. The slackers are collectively and individually personally responsible for the death of Alden. And a large percent of fans are among those slackers. Alden’s blood is on their hands.

As for persons who are guilty not merely by sins of omission but who actively threw their weight against us, like that traitorous little bastard Jocquel, I have no words to describe them. It is a bitter thing that he should be alive while your brother is dead. It would be well for him to stay out of my sight when this is over. As for any of them, unless they have fought this war in every way they could to the best of their ability, I will not meet with them socially when this is over. I will not shake hands, speak, sit down, nor eat with them.

I am not alone in this opinion. You will find that my opinion is shared by Carnell and by Franklyn Brady. You will find it shared by many others of the grown-ups who know that a war is going on and know that it is not a game nor a joke nor a piece of fiction but a tragic business in which men like your brother Alden meet their deaths, too young and too horribly.

Forry, I want you to dedicate yourself to Alden’s memory. To be faithful to him we now have two jobs to do. The first is to win this war as quickly as possible. You can do that by volunteering for something more useful than you are now doing. General Lear has said that he needs thousands of limited-duty clerks and such behind the lines in Europe to release able-bodied men for action. Or, perhaps, a re-examination will find you no longer limited in duty. In either case a Wac can edit your camp paper. The second job is, now and after the war, to see to it that it shall not happen again. There are many ways to do that and each must select his own—political activity of every sort, writing intended to stir people up, the willingness to combat race hatred, discrimination, limitations of civil liberty, generalized hates of every sort, whenever and wherever they show up. But I am damn well sure that fan activity is not the way to serve Alden’s memory. Fandom has had a chance to prove itself and it has failed. I find the mags crowded with escapism and other nonsense; I find that fans now call themselves “Slans” (God save us!) on many occasions. I find many other evidences of group paranoia and of psychotic infantilism—and unwillingness to face up to adult problems and to cope with them. Forry, you may write the most inspiring things for a better world possible; if you direct them to this group, they will be worthless in carrying on with Alden’s unfinished work, for they will fall on sterile ground. I am not generalizing; there are a few adults among them and there was a fair percentage before the war. I do not indict any who are carrying their load. But there are many (and you know that I am right) who are doing nothing and did nothing to save your brother’s life. A bunch of neurotic, selfish, childish, insensitive and unimaginative, vicious bunch of jerks! It is time you quit associating with them and tackled the problems of the real world.

We are very fond of you, Forry. You are a fine and gentle soul. This is a very difficult letter to write; if I did not think you were worth it, I would not make the effort. This letter is for your eyes only; the ideas in it you are free to use but the letter is for you only.

I am very sorry your brother was killed; You may be sure that Leslyn and I will be faithful to his memory with all our strength.

Love,

(Signed, ‘Bob’)

What was true in the 1940s is just true today and Robert Heinlein would likely be no fonder of many within science fiction fandom today than he was of many of those during WW2. “A bunch of neurotic, selfish, childish, insensitive and unimaginative, vicious bunch of jerks,” who are afflicted with an odd and pernicious sort of , “group paranoia and of psychotic infantilism—and unwillingness to face up to adult problems and to cope with them,” still aptly, if unflatteringly and uncharitably, describes a solid majority of fandom today.

I’m not talking about the larger body of fans of science fiction, but rather the active members of “fandom.”

I’m not sure if I can properly describe and define that distinction because I have long been involved with the science fiction and fantasy scene and am, to some extent, effected by the same affliction and attitudes of the rest of them. Suggesting that you review the movies, Trekkies and Galaxy Quest, is the best that I can offer.

This is not to say that there are not good Americans and true within fandom’s ranks, for that would be a rank falsehood. It is just that such men and women are in the minority, just as they were when Heinlein wrote this letter to Ackerman.

This is truly a sad and bitter fact. Fandom had much to offer America but has failed to do so many, many times since its members, when not actually adhering to the philosophies of our enemies, hold themselves aloof as if they were too good to soil their hands with honest work in service to the nation that provides them with the freedom to pursue their pleasures.

He had been heroically battling severe and chronic illness for well over a decade. Sadly, this last stroke was just too much – even for him.

Frank Frazetta painted heroes defending fair damsels from the very spawn of Hell and inspired whole generations of artists, game designers, writers, musicians, and film makers with his works over his 40+ year career. Yet, in many ways Frank was every bit as much of a hero as the characters he brought to life with his brush and his fire. When the strokes took his good right hand – think about that – he trained himself to paint with left and kept on going, indomitable and passionate.

But, while I’m saddened by his passing out of our lives, I’m not too shocked that Frank finally laid down his arms and his brush and let the reaper claim him. In July of 2009 Frank’s great love, muse, and wife of 53 years, Ellie, died after a long battle with cancer. With his children long grown and with families of their own it’s not odd or shocking that chose to follow Ellie.

One of Frank & Ellie’s Wedding Photos From 1956

People can, have, and will continue to write volumes about Frank Frazetta and his wife and partner, Ellie. I’m not really up to that challenge right now. But they say that picture is worth a thousands words, so below are 18 thousands worth worth of tribute and eulogy.

 

A Very Small Sampling of Frank Frazetta’s Artwork

Frank, may you find fair winds and following seas under whatever strange and wondrous stars you and Ellie find yourselves. If you run into to David and Leigh, please say hello for me.