Major City After Dark - Part 2

(Author’s Note: Please be aware that this story deals with adult themes and situations. Reader discretion is advised.)

Roxanne Prize headed down the streets of Major City in her Volkswagen Beetle on her way to the Mann Estate outside the city limits. She normally got around via one of the Invincible Alliance’s Air Cars, but this particular…situation…seemed to call for a little more discretion than flying. So she broke out her old warhorse of a vehicle and set out to keep her appointment. At least, to a degree.

Shelly was yanking her chain, right? Had to be. She expected Roxanne to either chicken out or show up all raring to go, and then she’d play the “Psyche!” card. That was why she was letting this go as far as it had.

Well, Roxanne had started this foolishness, and she’d see it through to the end. She might end up looking bad, but she didn’t care. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time, would it?

The drive didn’t take as long as she’d anticipated (or hoped), but Roxanne soon found herself at 114 Alan Parrish Road – address of the Mann Estate. Paul had been in the process of setting up shop there during the last few months they had been together, but it had been years since she’d darkened its doors.

Her presence, however, had not been forgotten in at least one quarter. As she pulled up to the gate, a blinking light on the security system spoke to her. At first startled, she soon realized it was…familiar.

“Good evening, Miss Prize,” the voice greeted. “Mr. Mann told me to expect you.”

“Oh, hello Sparky,” Roxanne answered the estate’s computer system. “Yes, I’m supposed to...wait, Paul told you I was coming?”

“Indeed – though Mr. Mann warned me you might be delayed in your arrival,” the soothing voice said. “It’s a pleasure to have you joining us again.”

“Why…thank you,” Roxanne managed to choke out, feeling oddly comforted to be complimented by a computer.

The gate opened by Sparky’s automatic relay, and Roxanne drove up to the resplendent March Mansion that Paul had converted into his personal sanctuary. He knew she was going to be there? What exactly had Shelly told him? It sure sounded as if he anticipated her having second thoughts about even showing up.

Well, she was, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her, either. She parked in the circle in front on the sprawling three-story house, and navigated the steps that seemed to take an eternity. She attempted to ring the bell, but the doors opened for her before she had the opportunity.

“Come in, Roxanne,” Paul welcomed as she walked through the front living room. “We thought you might have skipped dinner, so we have food already prepared in the dining room.”

Paul…was there? Yikes. Roxanne hadn’t been expecting that twist in the evening. She had figured that Shelly would have found some excuse to get him out of the mansion – it wasn’t as if it took much. But no, there he was, and he was telling her they were going to feed her, too.

And what a meal it was. The dining room table might have seemed small for such an expansive house (unsurprising for Paul), but her hosts more than made up for it with their spread. Filet mignon and stuffed potatoes, served with a dry red wine. It looked scrumptious.

Roxanne was quite relieved to see the wine there, as she really needed some. She poured herself a glass as she joined Paul and Shelly at the table. “Really guys, this was totally unnecessary,” she quietly offered.

“Nonsense,” Paul insisted. “You’re our guest! And really, it’s been much too long since you stopped by for a visit.”

“P-P-Paul,” Roxanne stammered. “I--”

“I mean, I realize things were awkward for awhile,” Paul continued, as Shelly silently rested her elbow on the table and waited for him to finish. “But really, we’re all adults, and I like to think we’ve put the past behind us. After all, it’s…”

“Paul!” Roxanne interjected. Don’t you…don’t you know why I’m here?”

Paul paused. “Well, yes. Shelly and I discussed it, and I don’t have a problem with it. She’s heard about the crazy stuff we did when we were dating!”

Roxanne felt herself blush vividly. As a still-silent Shelly kicked Paul under the table, a look of realization came across his face.

“That was the wrong thing to say, wasn’t it?” Paul asked.

Shelly crossed her arms and scowled as she glared at him. “You think?”

Roxanne hastily poured herself another glass of wine as Paul tried to save face. “What I’m trying to say is, I love Shelly, and you’re one of my oldest friends. I trust both of you, and I like to think I’m pretty open-minded. Is that weird?”

Roxanne downed her glass of wine and poured a third. “Look Shelly, you really don’t have to go through with it. I was just being a smartass.”

Shelly bit her bottom lip. “I gave my word. It’s not up for debate. I have my pride.”

More like stubbornness, Roxanne observed silently as she lingered over her wine. The trio kept their thoughts private through the remainder of the dinner. Finally, the food was gone, the wine bottle was empty, and all that was left was three people who weren’t sure what to say next.

“Well, I guess I should be going,” Paul finally said as he stood up. “I have an appointment with some computer code at the office.”

“Uh, Paul,” Roxanne ventured. “What about…um…?”

“What, what?” he asked.

“Sparky?” Roxanne replied. “I don’t know how comfortable I feel knowing he’s everywhere.”

“Oh,” Paul realized absent-mindedly. “Oh, right. I hadn’t thought of that. I just take it for granted that he’s always around.”

“Sparky!” Paul commanded as Shelly fidgeted self-consciously in her chair.

“Yes sir, Mr. Mann?”

“Please confine your functions to the computer labs and the estate perimeter until 8 AM tomorrow morning.”

“Very good, sir. Will there be any further instructions?”

“No, that will be all.”

“Good night all,” Sparky signed off as his presence left the vast majority of the mansion.

“Thanks,” Roxanne said simply.

“No problem,” Paul replied as he leaned down to kiss Shelly good-bye. Roxanne watched as Paul’s hand reassuringly rubbed the back of Shelly’s head as their lips brushed ever so briefly. He was comforting her, and she couldn’t tell if either of them even realized it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Paul reassured Shelly as he prepared to leave.

“Just be careful,” Shelly answered. “Remember, I won’t be around to save your bacon if you get in trouble.”

Paul smiled as he activated his Wrist Changer and the costume of Captain Satellite formed around him. He floated into the air effortlessly and then zipped out the door and into the sky.

“Sure knows how to make a memorable exit,” Roxanne mused as she toyed with her wine glass, wishing it was proper to raid the liquor cabinet for more.

“Yeah,” Shelly replied with a hint of resignation in her voice. “Would you…ah…like to go upstairs?”

Roxanne died a little inside, but heard herself respond with “Sure.” As she followed Shelly up the staircase, she couldn’t help but think what an enormous mistake they were making. Still, it could always be worse. At least it sounded like Paul would still be speaking to her when it was over. But as far as Shelly went…

Roxanne peered into the master bedroom with some trepidation as Shelly turned on the lights and closed the door behind them. Suddenly, with no warning, Shelly tackled Roxanne. Before she knew what was happening, Roxanne found herself pinned down on the bed.

“Ah-ha, how do you like that?!” Shelly exclaimed as she sat atop Roxanne and held her wrists firmly on either side of her head.

“What are you doing?” Roxanne gasped, a slight note of panic in her voice.

“…Don’t you like it?” a clearly crestfallen Shelly asked innocently.

“Um, it’s kind of terrifying,” Roxanne admitted.

“Oh,” Shelly said, releasing Roxanne’s wrists and climbing off her. “It’s just that guys have always…never mind.”

Roxanne stifled a laugh as it was Shelly’s turn to (finally!) blush. “We both need to relax. Start slow. Like…maybe I could rub your shoulders for you?”

Shelly nodded, and Roxanne laid her hands on Shelly’s shoulders. Wow, talk about tense. Shelly squirmed a little under Roxanne’s touch at first, but gradually loosened up just a tad. All it took was ten minutes or so.

“Now, you do me,” Roxanne said, instantly regretting her choice of words. Undeterred, she began to unbutton the first few buttons on her blouse. Shelly watched with some puzzlement, unsure what she was supposed to do next.

Roxanne realized how it looked. “I’m just making it easier for you,” she responded as she tugged the blouse down a bit to leave her bare shoulders exposed. Well, except for the noticeable purple and red bra straps. Roxanne almost expected Shelly to comment on the fact that her underwear matched her Firegirl costume.

But Shelly didn’t. As Roxanne turned her back to her, Shelly tentatively reached out and put her fingers on Roxanne’s skin for the first time. Roxanne settled in, expecting a shoulder massage similar to the one she’d administered. Instead…

“AHHHHH GEEZ OW!” Roxanne howled as Shelly’s grip proved to be a lot more forceful than either of them anticipated.

“I’m sorry!” Shelly apologized as she jerked away abruptly. “I didn’t mean…!”

“Girl, your hands are like a VISE!” Roxanne muttered. “You really don’t know your own strength, do you?”

Shelly was too busy punching the wall in frustration to listen. “Dammit!” she cried. “Why can’t I do this right? Why can’t I be more like you?!”

Roxanne shook her head, disbelieving her ears. “Huh? More like me?”

“Well, that was this was about, wasn’t it?” Shelly said as she whirled to face Roxanne. “You were flaunting how much more experienced you were compared to me!”

Roxanne felt a twinge of guilt over that accusation. “But you…you had no respect for me! I had to get back at you somehow!”

“Mission accomplished,” Shelly noted glumly as she flopped back down on the bed and hung her head.

“I didn’t know,” Roxanne said. “I don’t know why Paul would tell you about all that stuff we did when we were together.”

“Because I asked him,” Shelly whispered.

“You?”

“I made him tell me everything,” Shelly confessed. “I was curious –I’ve never dared do things like the two of you did. And I’ve always wondered if I make him happy because I can’t.”

“Oh, Shelly…”

“I had something to prove when you challenged me,” Shelly continued. “I wanted to prove that I could be like you. And I failed.”

“Alright, first, no one’s failed, except maybe to understand,” Roxanne said. “Second, what is this crazy talk? You’re jealous of me?”

“I guess.”

Roxanne sidled up next to Shelly. “Look, Paul went along with my partying because it was what I wanted, not what he wanted. He would have been just as happy to stick with me alone. Paul loves YOU now, and I’ve gotten over my wild child days.”

“Even after all this time, there’s just so much about him I don’t understand,” Shelly said.

“Yeah, join the club,” Roxanne replied. “But hey, you want to know a secret?”

“OK?”

“If I’m jealous of anyone, it’s him, not you,” Roxanne admitted.

Shelly’s face contorted into a mask of confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Paul and I are done, and there’s no going back,” Roxanne explained. “But he not only met someone who really loves him, but she is one hot woman, too.”

“Oh God,” Shelly said as she covered her eyes with the back of her hand.

“I’m serious!” Roxanne protested. “I might have been joking about this whole thing, but…well, I wouldn’t mind hitting it.”

There was a pregnant pause that seemed to last an eternity. Then, without explanation, Shelly scurried over to the nightstand. She giggled as she retrieved something Roxanne couldn’t quite make out.

“I have to show someone this!” Shelly exclaimed. “It’s one of Paul’s ‘secret projects’ that he does here!”

Shelly tossed a foil packet into Roxanne’s hands. Roxanne examined it closely. It looked remarkably familiar.

“Is this…what I think it is?” Roxanne queried.

“Yep,” Shelly confirmed. “Paul says it is, and I quote, ‘much more efficient than standard prophylactics. Just tough to formulate in mass quantities.’”

“It’s blue and white,” Roxanne noticed as she tore open the packet. “He made it in the colors of Captain Satellite?”

“Oh, that’s not even the worst of it,” Shelly snickered.

“Are these LED lights?” Roxanne asked. “But why? You can’t even see them when you’re using it!”

“Press the center of it,” Shelly instructed.

Roxanne did as she was told and was greeted by…

“Music?!?!”

“YES!” Shelly shouted. “It plays music when it comes in contact with an external object! Or maybe that should be ‘internal’, I dunno.”

“AHHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!” Roxanne laughed. “What is he thinking sometimes?!?!”

“Please notice it’s the theme from the Cat-Man TV show,” Shelly stressed. “Appropriate choice? I’m not sure myself.”

At that point, Shelly and Roxanne both erupted into a gale of hysterical laughter. They were both in tears by the time it subsided minutes later. Roxanne scooted off the bed as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Shelly, you are really something else,” Roxanne said. “Look, I might as well get going while it’s still early.”

Shelly leaned back on the bed and smiled shyly. “You know, you were planning on spending the night. I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t.”

Roxanne arched an eyebrow. “What are you saying?”

Shelly shrugged noncommittally. “I’m saying that whatever happens – or doesn’t happen – here tonight is just between the two of us. That’s all.”

Roxanne stood in the doorway and grinned broadly. She adjusted the wall control for the lights to dim. She really was pretty tired after a draining day, and didn’t look forward to another drive anyway. So a sleepover it was.

Major City After Dark - Part 1

(Author’s Note: Please be aware that this story deals with adult themes and situations. Reader discretion is advised.)

It was an uncommonly gorgeous spring day in Major City. Birds were singing, the sky was cloudless, and all seemed right in the world. Except, that is, at a tiny table in the fashionable Chez Café. Why? That was where an uncomfortable silence had fallen over the lunch between Shelly Ericson and Roxanne Prize.

Understand that Shelly and Roxanne were hardly enemies. But they weren't really friends, either. Shelly was the partner and bodyguard of Paul Mann, a.k.a. the superhero Captain Satellite. Roxanne was a founding member of the superhero group the Invincible Alliance under the name “Firegirl.” It was not unusual for them to find their paths crossing.

Complicating matters between the two, however, were their personal relationships. Shelly was Paul Mann’s girlfriend. Roxanne was his ex-girlfriend, and their break-up had been the result of Roxanne betraying his trust. Though Paul and Roxanne had made peace with one another in the intervening years, Shelly wasn’t so sure she cared for this woman who had hurt her man.

It wasn’t for a lack of effort on Roxanne’s part. She knew that even sincere contrition couldn’t erase the past, and so she strived to earn Shelly’s respect, and perhaps even her friendship. That was easier said than done, because Shelly’s image of Roxanne had been shaped well before they had ever met.

The lunches were supposed to be a step in the right direction. It had been Roxanne’s suggestion that they meet once every couple of weeks just to have lunch and talk. Her hope was that, as they got to know one another, they would bond over their unique lifestyles. Shelly had grudgingly accepted the offer—mostly in an attempt to be civil. Only problem was, this was the fourth lunch they had shared, and the conversation had dried up.

“So, what do you like?” Roxanne blurted out, instantly regretting her choices of words.

“What do I like?” Shelly repeated as she sipped Kooba Cola from elegant glass stemware. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean…I don’t know, hobbies, interests, stuff like that,” Roxanne fumbled as she tried to recover. “You don’t spend all your free time beating up bad guys, do you?”

Shelly rolled her eyes. “I guess you could say I’m into sharp things.”

“Sharp…things?” Roxanne asked somewhat nervously.

“Yeah,” Shelly said almost lovingly as she toyed with her dinner knife. “Blades, shuriken, things like that. I’ve been collecting them since I was a girl.”

More silence. Roxanne didn’t know how to respond. She wasn’t even sure if Shelly was joking or serious. For her part, Shelly returned to idly picking at the remnants of her meal, completely unaware that anything was amiss but desperately hoping the ordeal of this lunch would soon be over.

Shelly and Roxanne soon got their wish for something to come along to break the tension. However, it wasn’t what they would have had in mind. Though neither was enjoying themselves, they didn’t really want an explosion to go off in the streets outside their restaurant.

“What the hell?” Roxanne shouted as the force rocked her out of her chair.

“Manon, what’s going on out there?” Shelly called to Chez Café’s owner Manon Etienne as the female French expatriate peered out the window.

“Zut alors, Miss Ericson!” Manon exclaimed. “There are men in blue uniforms attacking the jewelry store across the street!”

Shelly looked over at Roxanne. “Sounds like Third World. You got your business clothes on you?”

“Always,” Roxanne answered as she headed for a spot to change.

“Meet me outside!” Shelly yelled as she pulled out the money to cover the check and beat a hasty exit through the front door.

Shelly had assessed the situation correctly. It was indeed a squadron of Third World agents converging on the upscale jewelry store directly across from Chez Café. One of the helmeted hoodlums spotted Shelly as she sprinted toward them, and recognized her from a previous encounter.

“Haw haw!” he chortled. “Look, it’s Captain Satellite’s girlfriend! Your boyfriend isn’t here to save you now, girlie!”

“You really have no clue, do you?” Shelly replied as she high-kicked the Third Worlder directly in the face with her cowgirl boot, ending his day rather early as he blacked out from the hit.

His comrades weren’t so complacent. Two of them trained their rifles on Shelly in a matter of seconds. Her eyes darted from one to the other as she worked out how best to escape.

It turned out her problem was solved for her as twin fireballs streaked past and sent the villains scrambling. A familiar red and purple-clad lady raced up and knocked the pair out by cracking their skulls together.

“Thanks, Firegirl,” Shelly said half-heartedly as the two surveyed the remaining nine Third World agents in their midst.

“No sweat!” Firegirl responded. “In fact, looks like I’m in the lead now!”

“Whatever,” Shelly snapped condescendingly. “You think you’re real hot stuff when you have someone watching your back, like those four playmates of yours.”

Firegirl felt her cheeks redden at the insult leveled at her and her allies in the Invincible Alliance. She had bent over backwards to be nice to Shelly, and this was the thanks she got? Oh, she’d get her back. She knew just the way.

“Fine then!” Firegirl piped up as Third World agents closed in on them. “We’ll have a bet over who catches the most bad guys!”

Shelly smirked. “You’re on. If I win, you have to pay the bill for the next six months for these lunches of yours!”

“And if I win,” Firegirl responded mischievously, “I get to spend a hot night with you!”

At that moment, Firegirl wished she had a camera to capture the expression on Shelly’s face. Priceless! Shelly grunted an acknowledgment as she wailed away at the opponents who had no idea of their infighting.

Firegirl punched at a couple of Third World agents herself, but she had no illusions that she was in Shelly’s class as a fighter. That was the whole point. She wouldn’t have made such a ridiculous wager if she had thought she had any chance of winning. Shelly had such a traditional worldview that it was the perfect way to tweak her. After it was all over, they could have a good laugh about it.

As the fight wore on, Firegirl’s prediction seemed to be coming true. She was holding her own, but she’d only managed to subdue a single Third World goon since the two she’d dispatched earlier. Meanwhile, Shelly was tearing into the enemy agents like a woman possessed. As she watched Shelly pummel one hapless villain repeatedly in the stomach and then drive his face into the sidewalk, Firegirl got the feeling that Third World was being victimized by some misdirected anger. Oh well, it was their own fault.

The score was 5-3 when a trio of Third World agents got the bright idea to gang up on Firegirl and jumped her from behind. As she struggled to free herself, Firegirl let forth a burst of flame that ignited the uniforms of her attackers. As Shelly pistol-whipped one last enemy with his own gun, Firegirl took out three in one go as they frantically tried to roll out their flames.

And that was where things stood as the fight died down. The Third World agents were all alive and intact, but neatly stacked into respective piles. The final tally was 6-6. Stalemate.

Firegirl hadn’t really expected it to be that close, but felt an odd sense of satisfaction over the result. Oh yeah, she had done it! She had collared just as many hoods as Shelly Ericson! She wouldn’t even have to pay for Shelly’s lunches!

So engrossed was Firegirl in her triumph via deadlock that she didn’t notice a seemingly innocent passer-by getting far closer than was prudent. As he walked up behind her, his pace quickened, and the glint of a knife appeared.

“Firegirl, behind you!” Shelly screamed as the attacker lunged for his prey.

Firegirl dodged the attempt on her life and wrestled the knife from her assailant. She heated it up until it deformed into a useless hunk of metal as she held the struggling man at bay.

“You stopped this operation, but Third World shall endure!” the man proclaimed. “Three for victory!”

“Keep telling yourself that!” Firegirl rejoined as she laid what had apparently been the assault team’s sleeper agent low. He fell into her pile of villainy.

It didn’t occur to Firegirl exactly what had just happened until she looked over at Shelly and was greeted by a blank, disbelieving stare. What was her problem? That clown hadn’t hurt her, and they had tied in their…

Firegirl glanced down at her pile and it dawned on her. The sleeper agent had attacked her, and she had to finish him off. That meant there had really been thirteen Third World agents on the scene, not twelve. She had personally handled seven of them.

She had won.

But…but…but that wasn’t how it was supposed to go! It had just been a harmless bet that she couldn’t win! She was just being sarcastic! She hadn’t really wanted…

“Shelly, I was only kidding,” a mortified Firegirl pleaded with her lunch companion. “You don’t have to follow through on this. I promise.”

“Be at the mansion by 7,” is all Shelly said as she turned and walked away, leaving Firegirl to deal with both the authorities and the dread that she had gotten herself into a colossal mess.

TV Sherpa: The Deacon

Here's another installment in the "TV Sherpa" series by the splendid Kabuki Katze. Our subject this time is the Deacon. I chose to resurrect the name of the the Deacon due to the character's in-story connections with Cat-Man and Kitten. I thought it would make a perfect companion series to the mythical Cat-Man show.

The trouble arose in the Deacon's original design. If you look at it, you'll see it's about as boring as possible. My initial idea was to riff on the Green Hornet and have the Deacon wearing a white mask in the style that Van Williams wore for the Hornet show. But that was before Kabuki unexpectedly became infatuated with lucha libre images I had been reblogging on Tumblr. During the course of our back and forth on this series, she said, "Now I'm wondering where the next two are going . . . are wrestlers involved?"

Well, no, they weren't...at that moment. But her inquiry got me thinking. I had been musing weeks earlier that one of the great missed opportunities in B-movie history was that no one sought to emulate Mexico's wrestler movie genre in the United States. The Destroyer was based out of Los Angeles for years, even holding the WWA World title on a few occasions. Wouldn't it have been great to see a movie where the Destroyer had to fight monsters or other baddies?

As the wheels kept turning in my brain, I recalled that the most famous luchador in history is El Santo. El Santo's name is Spanish for "the Saint". And I was working with a character named "the Deacon." HMMMMMM.

In the end, I granted Kabuki her wish and the Deacon was reincarnated as a masked wrestler fighting for justice. He's still a natty dresser, because really, that makes him even more awesome. He's not quite a luchador, since he's not of Mexican descent. Still, that doesn't diminish the pure goodness of this concept.

Oh yes, the name of the fictional actor. I went through many different permutations before deciding on "Reed Ganza" as the thespian charged with portraying the man under the hood. This surname is a big of an allusion to Santo's real name, but I'll let you discover that one for yourself if you so desire. Meanwhile, the Deacon can also be sighted at deviantArt!

Intergalactic

It sort of goes without saying that I love the video for the Beastie Boys song "Intergalactic". I am always down when people try to faithfully recreate the tokusatsu aesthetic, and this one sure succeeds. Isn't it funny that this sort of thing is cool when folks are clowning around, but everyone seems embarrassed by it when they are adapting something like Godzilla or Power Rangers? Not sure I understand the logic.

But yeah, this is clearly the work of people who love that sort of thing. Please check out the Beasties running at the 0:49 mark. Not only is that a total sentai riff, but it looks like it might be one of the streets Toei uses for location shots. Unreal.

Adam Yauch (MCA) passed away this past week, and as you might guess, that prompted me to publish this entry. The Beastie Boys album Licensed to Ill was practically the soundtrack of my being 15 years old. Mike D (Michael Diamond) and Ad-Rock (Adam Horovitz) will undoubtedly carry on the Beastie legacy, but it's strange and sad that one of the key members of the band has died at such a young age. R.I.P. MCA

This Disillusioned World

For the record, I am going to be very vague about the specifics of this entry's subject. Why? Because I offer up my opinions about an ongoing internet flame war, and I have no desire to interact with either side of it. If they connect the dots themselves, so be it. But I'm not going to turn up on anyone's vanity Google search on this topic.

Let me confess to you: I love UFO books. I don't care so much if they are good or not. Point of fact, many that I've read are no damn good at all. They don't stand up to even the tiniest bit of critical thinking. I am perfectly fine with this.

I long ago accepted that my interest in UFO books was more in the mysteries they kindled in my imagination rather than their facts. If you go into them with your eyes wide open, some can be pretty entertaining. I have no idea how "authentic" anything John Keel ever wrote is, but he could tell a compelling story. I honestly get chills when I read some of his books. Are they accurate? That's open to debate even in UFO circles. Are they entertaining? Boy, I sure think so.

But lest you get the wrong idea, I'm not a starry-eyed believer either. Oh, I am fascinated by the subject, but I've never had a convincing "encounter" and am becoming convinced that I never will. I think there's something "there," but that something might not be extraterrestrial or supernatural. That doesn't make it any less interesting.

So it was with considerable excitement that I often told people about what I termed the "best" UFO book I'd ever bought. It didn't look that way at first glance; it looked like just another book on a popular UFO subject, and was marketed as such. Ah, but when I bought it and read it, it pretty much deconstructed that famous case to such a degree that I couldn't help but be impressed. There was a healthy degree of skepticism, even if the author seemed to be straddling the fence on his belief in the subject or not.

This may surprise you, but in my whole time on the Internet (11+ years), I'd never bothered to look up info on the author of this book I felt was so good. Hey, it was never very important to me. However, I thought about him and his book after posting the video of "The Flying Saucer Mystery" a few days ago. I thought I should take the time and see what he had been up to over the years.

My very first hit was for a hate site devoted to the guy. Well, that was...interesting. But c'mon, he had demolished more than one famous paranormal incident. It made sense to me that he would have enemies. It did strike me as unusual that his own site wouldn't be at the top of the list, so I investigated further. Because surely, the gent had his own website.

Um, I still have a hard time comprehending what I learned as I dug deeper. I don't want to go into specifics, since that would tip off the parties involved, but this author has pretty obviously become delusional. I'm not sure if he's a pathological liar, a brilliant troll, or just someone who is mentally ill, but the things I saw were so far beyond the pale that I am deeply troubled by the whole affair. His enemies aren't much better, which leads to the sad spectacle of a conflict where everyone is a loser.

As a consequence of my curiosity, I've re-examined my thoughts on his book, and realized that some of what I wrote off as just quirks and oddities about it at the time were really early signs of this fellow's subsequent behavior. This bothers me a lot, because I feel like I've been hoodwinked by a flim flam man just as much as those people who swallowed George Adamski's claims decades ago. Yes, the book lays out an argument (which I have since discovered was mostly regurgitated from other sources) that I still find plausible. However, the author himself has lost all credibility in my eyes, and I cannot take his book seriously as a repudiation of this case anymore. Everything in the book may be accurate, but how can I trust it when I know he has proven that he will make things up? As it is, I have serious doubts about the facts that he claims to have uncovered himself.

I'm disillusioned about this matter. I'm also disappointed. Not with the author, but with myself. I'd like to think I'm a critical reader and don't fall for anyone's claims easily. Yet, I can't escape the fact that I bought into this guy's line of reasoning, and he's turned out to be as big a fraud as the "frauds" he sought to expose. It's the sort of thing that will turn your view of the world on its head. When the skeptics turn around and lie, what is the truth?

At least John Keel's books are fun.

Shelly's Bust! (waitaminute...)

Here's the second commission from Sean Moore. Surprise! It's Captain Satellite's bodyguard and lady love, Shelly Ericson! None of you saw that coming, did you?!

Curt Koorey Is On The Air!

This may be one of my stranger commissions, at least in terms of subject matter.

So Sean Moore started a sale yesterday offering B&W bust commissions for the princely sum of five dollars apiece. Well, I figured that would be cool, so I nabbed two of them early. There's still one slot left, if this sounds like a deal to you.

Trouble was, who to have as the subjects? Well, one of them will surprise no one, but that's coming later. For the other, I tossed around various ideas until I was seized by the spirit of whimsy.

It's no secret I'm a fan of Casey Kasem. So much so, there's a parody of him running around the Owariverse. His name is Curt Koorey (and that surname is very deliberately Lebanese, like Kasem). I thought it would be fun to have Sean do a "Curt Koorey" pic and just linked him to a Google Image Search for Casey. I did caution, however, that he didn't have to sweat getting the likeness too close.

Wouldn't you know it? The guy goes ahead and hits the caricature aspect right out of the park!

Oh, and a belated HAPPY 80TH BIRTHDAY to Mr. Casey Kasem himself! He hit that milestone on April 27th, and I hope that he's enjoying his golden years.