I've been feeling pretty lethargic recently, and haven't even felt like playing video games that much. I have done a few things in the past few weeks that are probably worth talking about, though. It was Beth's mom's birthday on the twenty-fifth of last month, and we visited and went to the zoo in Bridgeton, where I felt the need to pose with animal statues.

Beth was wearing her Frasier hat, so I tried to get a picture of her with some cranes, but it didn't come out very well. There were several peacocks wandering around the place.

One of the lemurs was sitting on a sliding board.

These pigs with long ears and tails were interesting.

And they had some leopards and tigers that reminded me of our cats in a few respects.

Black cats usually remind me of panthers. I believe black panthers are actually leopards, but cougars are also sometimes called panthers. These designations aren't always that specific. One of the lemurs And my mother-in-law shoved me into a lion fountain. Somehow, I survived.


On the first of this month, we saw Scott Thompson perform as Buddy Cole at the City Winery, which is a pretty inconvenient venue, but they've had a few things we've been interested in.

The last show we saw there was John Waters, and while Scott is younger, they both came from a time when being gay was much more dangerous and subversive, and seem somewhat bemused by that community today. Then on that Thursday, we saw a Kevin Geeks Out show at the Nitehawk Cinema in Williamsburg. It was about advertising, with topics including how slogans are used in movies and television, with Kevin Maher mentioning that he thought there would be more characters using them as one-liners when killing somebody. He made up for it with a video of various Arnold Schwarzenegger kill scenes with somewhat relevant slogans dubbed in. Steve Young, a former writer for David Letterman, had two segments, one on collectible playing cards advertising local businesses, often with bizarrely lazy art; and another on records of stock clips and jingles to play in radio commercials. On our way back to the subway, I noticed some art by Molly Crabapple, who did a lot of work for Max Fractal (formerly Kim Boekbinder), and whose book I own.

Our next show was EXTC at (Le) Poisson Rouge in Manhattan last Thursday.

I believe the concept started when Terry Chambers, the drummer for XTC on their first five albums and a bit of the sixth, did some shows with Colin Moulding. Colin isn't part of the touring band now, but Terry still plays, and the set includes songs from after Terry had left the band. It's done with the blessing of Andy Partridge, who stopped playing live after a panic attack in 1982. The rest of the band consists of Steve Hampton on lead vocals and guitar, and Terry Lines on bass and backing vocals.

The songs were all performed quite closely to the studio recordings. Steve didn't replicate all of Andy's vocal oddities, but I'm not sure Andy could anymore either. It was a fun time. I bought a CD there, but I haven't listened to it yet.


I'll also mention that I got my sketchbook from Becca Whitaker, whom I've known online for a long time, and it's full of colorful pin-ups based on popular media. There's a section of cereal mascots, which is up my alley even though I don't eat a lot of cereal. Mermaids and horror icons are also well-represented. For my copy, she drew Artemis and Jack Pumpkinhead.

And today, I received these from Vylirium.

There's a lot of cool art online, and I haven't really put any of it on display, despite having lived in the same place for almost seven years. I need to clean up first, and it's difficult to get motivated. You'd think being able to decorate would BE the motivation, but I guess we're back to the lethargy again.

Beth and I saw two Kids in the Hall earlier this month, and both of them made fun of the other. Kevin McDonald did a stand-up set at the New York Comedy Club on Monday the 5th. He mostly told stories, some of which I'd heard before. According to him, most stories comedians tell have details changed, so they're like making lemonade, while his are just lemons. On Saturday, we went with Beth's Uncle John to the City Winery in Philadelphia, where Scott Thompson did several Buddy Cole monologues, including some new ones that Amazon considered inappropriate for the new episodes they did last year. There was one about drag queen story hours, and how those were two things that didn't go together. I've wondered myself how that concept came about; I have no problem with it, but it does seem to come out of left field. He did one apologizing to aliens, and mentioned the anal probing jokes from KITH, and said that were all by Kevin and Dave Foley, not him. I was curious as to how many people realized that his bit about Ra masturbating out the other gods was a genuine Egyptian creation myth. Probably more than I thought, but I was still kind of proud to have noticed that. The thing about cereal magnate John Harvey Kellogg being fervently opposed to masturbation is also true, and kind of seems like it shouldn't be. On the other hand, "Kubla Khan" was not written by Omar Khayyam. After that show, we ate at a Chinese restaurant, after trying two that were closed. It WAS the New Year, I guess. The one where we ended up going had a robotic podium with a cat face that the staff used. I wanted to get a picture of it, but didn't. I do have a picture of a cotton candy machine from the same place.

I drove into Philadelphia in a borrowed car, because mine was getting repairs. They needed some kind of tool to remove some bolts in the engine, and it must have been really difficult to get, as it took a few weeks. It's probably one more issue with having an old car, although it's difficult for me to think of 2009 as old. I finally got my car back last week.

I started on Mounjaro recently, and it causes me to have much less of an appetite. That's probably good for blood sugar, and for money because I tend to buy a lot of snacks. But when you're used to eating a certain amount and you no longer can, it feels like a waste. I've been trying to adjust somewhat.

We're considering getting another cat to keep Nellie company, but so far it hasn't happened. We visited a cat cafe and a shelter, and were supposed to bring her to see some other cats last weekend (the email called it a "meet and greet," which makes it sound like these cats are celebrities), but they both caught a cold. Nellie tries to play with everything, so a playmate would probably be a good idea, but who knows how she'd get along with another cat? I wonder what she thinks of me. She does sometimes lie next to me in bed and purr, so I suppose that's a good sign. She's not as talkative as Wally and Reagan were, at least as of yet.

Last weekend, the only major thing we did that I feel I need to write about was to attend a concert by the Brooklyn Chamber Orchestra. The theme this time was the Killer B's, meaning Beethoven, Bach, and Brahms. They also threw in a Wasp, specifically the overture from The Wasps, by Vaughan Williams. The Brahms piece was the Hungarian Dance, which I largely remember because of the Allan Sherman parody, although I like it anyway.

Really, it's a piece that speeds up and slows down so much that I would imagine it's difficult to actually dance to. They ended the show with a slow, solemn performance of Mussorgsky's "Great Gate of Kiev," dedicated to the people of Ukraine. Speaking of countries that had been part of the Soviet Union, we tried Georgian food for the first time on the day before that. Beth had recently found out about Acharuli Khachapuri, boat-shaped bread filled with melted cheese topped with an egg yolk, traditionally said to represent the sea and the Sun. When we got delivery, it came in a pizza box, and the egg had somehow spilled out. I don't know if that was my fault or someone else's, but I'll be sure to be more careful if we get that again. We shared an entree of chicken in garlic sauce. Georgia actually features in Greek mythology, as it's the location of the ancient land of Colchis, Medea's homeland. Apparently the ancient Greeks considered it the farthest place they could reach by ship.

Tuesday was our anniversary, sort of, since we were actually married on the twenty-ninth. It was also the day we saw Elton John on his Farewell Yellow Brick Road Tour, although that wasn't the original intention. Due to the pandemic, the show was delayed by quite a lot. Before the show, we got Japanese food. She had a Bento box, and I had shrimp yaki udon, which is stir-fried noodles. I found the noodles a little squishy, and I'm saying this as someone who's never particularly liked al dente pasta; but I still enjoyed it. I can't say I'm a big fan of sushi; obviously it varies, but I'm a picky eater and not accustomed to raw food like that. The show was at Barclays Center, and while I've walked by there many times, this is the first time either of us actually attended an event there. On the way there, we walked by a restaurant that was playing "Funeral for a Friend," which couldn't have been coincidental, right? Elton played that one and its followup, "Love Lies Bleeding," while his piano was moved around the stage.

I took a few pictures, but obviously we were too far back to see much of anything.

I was kind of surprised by how many people showed up late and left early, and got up during the show. I pretty much figure that, if you've paid for a concert, you should stay for the whole thing, unless you absolutely need to go to the bathroom or something. With how vertical stadium seating is, I wouldn't even think it was particularly safe to be moving around in relative darkness. It was a pretty long set, and there wasn't an opener or anything. He had spoken-word introductions for some of the songs. As part of the encore, he played his part of "Cold Heart," the song he did with Dua Lipa that includes part of "Rocket Man," along with a video. I remember hearing that on the radio once, but for the most part I'm not up on modern music. I guess I never really was. I assume Dua Lipa doesn't have anything to do with Duolingo, but you never know.

This is something I wrote maybe five years ago, and posted it on Jared Davis' now-defunct Oz fan-fiction forum. 'Tis the season, so I'm sharing it again. It combines some elements of L. Frank Baum's The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus and Ruth Plumly Thompson's The Curious Cruise of Captain Santa, and also tried my best to fit Krampus into Ozian mythology. The Bell-Snickle from John R. Neill's The Scalawagons of Oz also seemed appropriate, considering his name. Let me know what you think.

SAVING JACK FROST: AN OZ ADVENTURE
By Nathan M. DeHoff

“Is that a polar bear, Dorothy?” asked Toto, surprising his little mistress because he rarely spoke, especially when it was just the two of them together.
“It sure looks like one, Toto, but I didn’t know there were any polar bears in Oz,” replied Dorothy.
The girl and her dog approached the ursine creature that was just emerging from a small red Quadling wood. It turned out that the bear had a young winged man with long hair on his back, who waved cheerfully to Dorothy and Toto.
“Why, hello, Ozites!” exclaimed the man.
“Hello!” said Dorothy.
“Yes, I know I’m in the wrong sort of habitat, but there’s a reason for that,” stated the polar bear.
“Right! We’re on a mission from Santa Claus.”
“Oh, I think I’ve seen you before! You’re one of Santa’s fairy helpers, aren’t you?”
“Wisk, at your service!” responded the fairy, removing his little green hat. “And this is Huggerumbo.”
“Why, what an adorable name!”
“That’s what I say, but he won’t have it,” said the fairy, as the bear frowned a little. “Am I right, old Grumpy Bear?”
“Oh, I know people find me cute, but they don’t have to point it out every time. We polar bears can be ferocious animals. When I was a cub, I dreamed of dressing in armor and fighting in a gladiatorial arena.”
“An armored polar bear?” put in Toto. “What a bizarre idea!”
“Yes, well, instead, I ended up working for Santa Claus.”
“And it’s well worth it, isn’t it?” asked Wisk. “You’re making a lot more people happy this way.”
“Yes, I suppose I can’t deny that.”
“I should introduce you to Grumpy, the Patchwork Girl’s friend from the Kingdom of Patch,” said Dorothy. “He’s also cranky on the outside, but very soft-hearted.”
“Please don’t say that out loud. I may be soft-hearted, but it would ruin my reputation. Anyway, we’re busy right now.”
“Busy with what?”
“We’re looking for Jack Frost,” replied Wisk.
“Jack Frost! I’ve met him before. He wanted to marry me, in fact.”
“Aren’t you a little young for marriage?” inquired Huggerumbo.
“Well, yes, although I’ve actually lived more than a hundred years. Here in Oz, we stay young as long as we want to.”
“Yes, it’s the same way in the Christmas Country. I can’t imagine young Jim getting married, either.”
“But you know there’s no way to convince Jack otherwise when he wants something,” put in Wisk. “We think that might be why he’s in trouble now.”
“Then Jack’s in trouble?”
“Well, we don’t know for sure. The only thing we do know is that we can’t find him,” stated the bear.
“We could go to the Emerald City, and look in Ozma’s Magic Picture.”
“No, I don’t think that would help. Claus has one of the best surveillance systems in the world, and he hasn’t found out anything other than that Jack is somewhere in Oz.”
“Oh, right. He sees you when you’re sleeping, and knows when you’re awake.”
“Right, although he doesn’t actually watch people sleep,” said Wisk. “That would be creepy, and he has better things to do. But you’re right that he has the power to do that if he wanted to, so it’s strange that he can’t find one missing person.”
“So, you’re from the Emerald City, are you?” asked Huggerumbo politely.
“Why, yes. Ozma’s my best friend, and she made me a princess.”
“I thought you looked familiar! Walloping walruses, you’re Princess Dorothy!”
“Yes, but you can just call me Dorothy. And this is Toto, my dog.”
“Of course we’ve heard of Toto!” said Wisk, jumping down from the polar bear’s back to pet the little black terrier.
“So where were you headed?” inquired Huggerumbo.
“Oh, we were just on a short walk into the Quadling Country. We were planning on going back to the city by nightfall. Where were you planning on looking for Mr. Frost?”
“That’s part of the problem. We don’t know where he would have gone. Some of our compatriots are searching other parts of the land, though, so we were headed toward the Munchkin Country.”
“There’s a Snow Mountain there, but I don’t know if Mr. Frost would want to go to another snowy place. Oh, and the Wind Satchel Man at Valley Mountain keeps the North Wind when he’s not busy elsewhere.”
“I don’t know that Jack would want to go somewhere it’s already cold, but I suppose that’s as good a place to start as any.”
The girl and her dog joined up with the bear and the fairy, and the two of them continued across the gentle red hills to the east. Red flowers grew all over, and they occasionally passed an apple or cherry tree. At one point, they stopped to eat lunch from a magic basket provided by the Wizard of Oz. Even Huggerumbo was satisfied by ten salmon sandwiches, while Wisk hardly ate anything at all. Just as the party was sharing a small strawberry shortcake, Dorothy was suddenly assailed with a spray of water.
“What? Where did that come from? Is the basket not working?” inquired Dorothy.
“No, it came from that hill over there,” observed Toto.
“Well, I’m always up for a water fight,” said Wisk, “but you should at least announce your intentions first.” He pointed his wand in the direction from which the spray had come, producing his own shower of cold water. This was followed by a severe drenching for all four party members.
“At least it’s cold,” stated Huggerumbo. “The warm water around here has been difficult for me to take.”
“All right, all right, we give up!” conceded Wisk, waving a white handkerchief above his head.
“Give up what?” asked a somewhat dense voice. The owner of the voice was a strange rubbery creature, red in color, with a long snout with a nozzle at the end. It was accompanied by two other animals like it, one of which was sagging somewhat. A hydrant promptly ran up behind them and refilled the sagging one.
“What are they?” asked the polar bear. “Some sort of elephants?”
“No, I think they’re hose beasts,” answered Dorothy. “They usually work for the fire department.”
“Right, but what fun is that?” said one of the beasts. “That’s why we’ve gone rogue, and we’re headed for the ocean, where we need never be empty.”
“The ocean? How are you going to get there?”
“We believe there’s some outlet in Lake Quad,” replied another beast, who had a more erudite tone to his voice. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Why, I’m a Princess of Oz, so it’s my business.”
“A princess? We don’t go in for authority!” shouted the second beast. “Kidde, extinguish them!”
The largest of the hose beasts, who was also the one with the classier voice, promptly sprayed a foamy liquid toward Dorothy. Huggerumbo promptly grabbed her in his mouth and ran off with her down a nearby road, while Wisk took Toto in his arms and flew away. The animals pursued them, ejecting water and foam all the way, but they managed to avoid the majority of the onslaught. Without noticing it, however, the polar bear ran right off the edge of a cliff.
“Huggerumbo! Dorothy! I didn’t even see that!” exclaimed Wisk, as he flew down to see whether the bear and the girl were safe. As it turned out, they bounced off a rubber surface, and landed in a nearby ozberry bush.
“It’s a good thing I was here!” shouted the rubber object in a nasal tone. “Those rogue hose beasts are really getting to be a problem. You’d think we’d get along, all being made of rubber and all.”
With that, the rubber being flattened itself out and stood up on two legs, revealing itself to be a disc-shaped bluish-green creature with a hooked nose. “Why, Princess Dorothy! What are you doing in these parts?”
“Well, we WERE having a picnic, until they came along,” complained the girl.
“I’ve been doing my best to stop them, being Royal Rubber Stopper and all, but I might just have to report them to a higher authority.” The creature shook itself as it said this, causing the bells on its ears to jingle. “Something also needs to be done about that road. At least there haven’t been road hogs around here. They eat roads, you know.”
“Why, you look familiar!” exclaimed Wisk, as he settled down on the ground.
“This is the Bell-Snickle, who works as Ozma’s Royal Rubber Stopper,” declared Dorothy. “Snickle, these are Wisk and Huggerumbo. They work for Santa Claus.”
The Bell-Snickle looked nervous at the mention of the gift-giving saint, and Wisk shouted, “THAT’S where I know him! He was an experimental toy that Neclaus made, sort of a combination whoopee cushion and noisemaker, intended for parties. When it came time to name him, one of the Sound Imps suggested Bell-Snickle, after one of Claus’s German companions. The Elves deemed it impractical to make any more, since this one was so reckless. I’m not sure how he ended up in Oz.”
“Well, I’M not going to tell you,” announced the rubber creature. “You’ve given away too much information already. I pride myself on being a Mystery.”
“Oh, we won’t tell anyone, Mr. Snickle,” assured Dorothy.
“So what work does a Royal Rubber Stopper do?” asked Wisk.
“Tries to stop things that shouldn’t be happening,” replied the Bell-Snickle. “Like the hose beasts and the road hogs that bother innocent travelers. Or safety hazards, like that dead-end road. I even sometimes investigate unfair laws in the stupid little countries.”
“I don’t know that you should call a whole country stupid.”
“Oh, you’d disagree if you went to some of these places. There’s a town nearby where all activity totally stops when they see red lights. And one in the Winkie Country nobody is allowed to move at more than a quarter mile per hour. In Blankenburg in the Gillikin Country, no one is allowed to show their face. Marginalia has laws against toe tapping, nose nipping, mouth breathing, and finger snapping. And in Ditchville, you’re not allowed to give money away.”
“I thought they didn’t use money in Oz,” observed Huggerumbo.
“Oh, it’s definitely much less common, but not unheard of. The inhabitants of Bunbury, out in the woods to the west, use sesame seeds as currency. And I hear Quick City uses rolls of quicksilver, which is strange as I thought that was a liquid at normal temperatures. I’ve been meaning to check that out, as I don’t like there to be other mysteries besides me.”
“The real mystery is how these places managed to survive for so long,” said Wisk. “But then, that’s the thing with fairylands. My people don’t always make a lot of sense. I always got along with Queen Lurline, you know.”
“Well, Mr. Snickle, would you like to join us in looking for Jack Frost?” asked Dorothy.
“Jack Frost! The very personification of the chill of winter? What would he be doing in these parts?”
“We don’t know that he’s in these parts, just somewhere in Oz,” observed the polar bear.
“I might as well. I’m sure there will be plenty of things to rub out on the way.”
With that, the Bell-Snickle joined the others, and they continued to the east. There were a few farmhouses, with fertile fields and orchards, in the area, but no towns. After about two hours of travel, Wisk sighted a tall blue wall on the horizon. Upon coming closer to it, Dorothy gave a cry of recognition. “It’s the town of the Cuttenclips!”
“Oh, I’m no longer allowed there,” stated the Bell-Snickle. “They say I’m too clumsy.”
“I’m not surprised. First time we visited, the Shaggy Man toppled a whole lot of them with a sneeze.”
“Who are the Cuttenclips?” inquired Huggerumbo.
“Oh, they’re living paper dolls. Very pretty, but very fragile as well.”
“Well, I’d like to see them,” put in Wisk. “Toy towns remind me of home.”
So the Bell-Snickle, Huggerumbo, and Toto waited outside while Dorothy and Wisk went to visit Miss Cuttenclip, the only flesh-and-blood inhabitant of the village, who lived in a wooden house in the center of town. The Princess of Oz asked her about Jack Frost, but she said she had seen no sign of him. Upon learning that Wisk worked for Santa Claus, she relayed her request for some spangles and a new pair of scissors for Christmas. The fairy was fascinated to learn about how Glinda had provided Miss Cuttenclip with living paper, and enchanted the town so that storms and other bad weather could not affect it.
“They’re the only live paper dolls in the world, as far as I know,” stated Miss Cuttenclip. “Not the only live toys by any means, though. I visited Merryland once, and they have a whole society of dolls.”
“Yes, Claus was involved in setting that up, if I recall correctly,” said Wisk.
The girl and the fairy were anxious to continue on their journey, so after a few refreshments, they rejoined their companions outside the town. Huggerumbo had been eating berries and apples from nearby trees, and was pretty full.
“You know, Ozma’s cousin, the Guardian of Oz, lives near here,” said Dorothy. “I wonder if we should check in with her.”
So the small group turned toward the south and the road to Story-Blossom Mountain, while Wisk sang “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” When he had reached the part about figgy pudding, Huggerumbo grumbled, “Do you think you could sing another song? Just the thought of figgy pudding makes me sick to my stomach.”
“You shouldn’t have eaten so much back there,” admonished Wisk. Still, she acceded to the bear’s request and began singing, “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose. Yuletide carols—“
“Another song about food?” grumbled the polar bear.
“Only parts of it.”
“Wait, where else did I hear about nose-nipping today?” asked Dorothy.
“Oh, that was me,” answered the Bell-Snickle. “It’s illegal in Marginalia.”
“And is it something Mr. Frost does often?”
“Of course! Why else do you think it would be in a song?” observed Wisk.
“A lot of songs aren’t entirely true,” said the Bell-Snickle.
“And that song wishes a merry Christmas to anyone from one to ninety-two, and I think we’re all older than that. Still, Jack is quite fond of nipping noses and pinching fingers. He and Claus are old friends, but he thinks Jack goes overboard sometimes, especially with the children.”
“Then maybe it would be worth looking in Marginalia,” suggested Dorothy. “If Santa isn’t able to locate Mr. Frost, the Guardian might well not be either.”
“So where is this place?” questioned Huggerumbo.
“I don’t know, but the Wogglebug might. He’s in charge of updating the maps of Oz, and his college isn’t far away.”
So the party instead turned to the north, and had soon crossed the border into the Munchkin Country. By this time, the sun was setting. The educated insect greeted Dorothy and her friends, and checked his latest map sketches to see if he could find such a place as Marginalia.
“It’s not on the main map, but it does sound familiar,” said the Wogglebug. “Ah, here we are! Marginalia, out in the outskirts of the Munchkin Country. Its location hasn’t been properly surveyed, but it’s in the eastern part of the country, south of the White Mountains.”
The group spent the night at the college, and set out in the morning, using the insect’s sketch to determine where they were going. Dorothy deemed the Yellow Brick Road to be the fastest way to get to that area, so they took the route from the college to the famous highway. This was the road Dorothy had taken to reach the Emerald City on her first visit to Oz many years back, but it was better traveled and safer by this point. Bridges had been built over the Munchkin River and the chasm in the Great Blue Munchkin Forest, and the Cowardly Lion and Hungry Tiger had successfully driven the Kalidahs away from the road. It took a few days to traverse the route, but there were several small inns along the way. Dorothy pointed out where the Scarecrow had gotten stuck on a pole in the river and the cabin where the Tin Woodman had lived for a while, now preserved as a national historical site. When they dropped in on Boq, the aristocratic Munchkin who had let Dorothy stay at his house on her very first night in the fairyland, he told them what little he knew of Marginalia.
“I hear it’s a very strict place, and it’s located in the middle of nowhere,” said the Munchkin. “I don’t know anyone who’s ever been there.”
After crossing another branch of the Munchkin River beyond Dorothy’s old farmhouse, the party turned south. This part of the country was not maintained all that well, not being particularly good land for farming. It was mostly overgrown with tall grass, and at one point crabgrass with claws attempted to pinch the travelers. Some growling from Huggerumbo was enough to put a stop to that, as well as to the moving skunk cabbages that came out at night. The only house they saw along the way belonged to a man who farmed knives of all shapes and sizes. He told them that Marginalia was just to the south. Eventually, the group came across a road leading right up to a large town surrounded by a metal wall. At the gate, a man in a booth asked, “What is your business in Marginalia?”
“We’re searching for a friend of ours, Jack Frost,” stated Wisk.
“Do you have identification?” asked the man.
Dorothy pulled a letter of introduction from her pocket and showed it to the gatekeeper. Upon glancing at it, he said, “This hasn’t even been properly notarized, nor does it have any photographic representation of you.”
“Photographs? A lot of Oz doesn’t even have cameras,” stated Dorothy.
“Well, if they’re not going to become properly civilized, that’s no skin off our backs. So you say you’re Dorothy?”
“Yes, I’m a Princess of Oz, and that letter has Ozma’s royal seal.”
“Oh, like such things can’t be forged.”
“Look, just let us in or I’ll bite you,” said Toto.
“Oh, my word! That dog isn’t on a leash!”
“A leash? This is the Land of Oz! I have my rights!”
“Maybe so, but dogs are noisy and messy, so there’s no admittance for them without leashes. And your companion there is out in bear skin!”
“Since when is that illegal?” questioned Huggerumbo.
“It’s illegal here because it’s indecent. I have heard it suggested that this was a misspelling in the law books, but it can’t be changed now.”
“Can’t you just let us in?” asked Dorothy.
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“Look, I don’t like doing this, but I’m a Princess of Oz, and I demand you let us in immediately!” shouted the girl, who stamped her foot in anger.
“Foot-stamping is illegal in this town. I’m afraid I’ll have to have you arrested.”
“Arrested? But we’re diplomatic envoys from Santa Claus!” griped Huggerumbo.
“Yes, and I’m the Easter Bunny’s secretary.” While saying this, the gatekeeper pressed a button and a tall woman with blue hair and a dark blue uniform emerged from a nearby guardhouse. “Officer Bleu, arrest them.”
“Wait, what did I do?” asked Wisk.
“You and the gasbag are accomplices,” said the officer sternly. “Now follow me.”
Not wanting to cause any trouble, the party followed Officer Bleu through the streets of the town. It was a pretty sort of place, with neatly arranged houses and metal sculptures set on nicely trimmed lawns. The people, however, looked rather terrified, and rushed through the streets quietly with their heads down like they preferred not to be seen. Finally, the group reached the jail, which the officer forced the visitors to enter, locking the door behind them.
“Your trial should take place in six to eight weeks,” said Officer Bleu. “Until then, please refrain from any more illegal activity, or it will only increase your sentence.” Noticing the bear scratching his nose, she added, “What did I just tell you?”
“Look, with laws like yours, there’s no way anyone can obey all of them,” objected Dorothy.
“Tell it to the judge. Or don’t, as arguing with the judge is also against the law.”
With that, the officer left the jail. Toto soon noticed a man sitting hunched down in the corner of the cell, and approached him. Wisk followed him, saying, “Why, it’s Jack Frost himself!”
“Wisk!” exclaimed the man, as he looked up. “Did you come to get me out of here?”
“Yes, but it looks like we’ve been captured ourselves. No problem, though. I still have my magic.”
“No, I don’t think you do. These cells have been magic-proofed. Otherwise, don’t you think I would have escaped by now?”
“Isn’t magic-proofing illegal without a permit?” asked Dorothy.
“I tried telling them that, and they wouldn’t have it. The police said that the authorities were allowed to ignore the rules when it came to making sure everyone else follows them.”
“That doesn’t sound right. Everyone has to be bound by some laws. Even Ozma can’t do anything she wants, and she’s an absolute monarch.”
Wisk tested his magic to make sure it did not work, and it proved to be ineffective. The Bell-Snickle, however, did state that he could probably squeeze out through the bars. Upon hearing this, Wisk gave him a switch, telling him to use it when he reached a place where magic worked.
“You mean you want to call HIM?” questioned Huggerumbo. “I thought that was a last resort.”
“What other choice do we have?” asked the fairy.
“I suppose you’re right, but he really scares me.”
Without bothering to ask what the bear and the fairy were talking about, the Bell-Snickle flattened himself as much as possible and walked out between the bars of the cell. Leaving the building, he promptly struck the switch on the ground. In a puff of choking black smoke, a tall, hairy man with pointed ears, horns and a beard like a goat, and a long tail appeared in front of the rubber creature. In a rough and booming voice, he said, “Who dares to summon the mighty Krampus?”
“Um…me, Mr. Krampus,” said the Snickle. “Wisk told me to call you to help us get out of jail.”
“Wisk? Oh, right, one of the master’s intolerable assistants. Why can’t he get out himself?”
“The cells have been magic-proofed.”
“Oh, I should have figured it was something like that. Fortunately, I have training in law as well. Take me to the local authorities.”
The Bell-Snickle was not sure where the authorities were headquartered, but a quick look at a sign told them the way to the Mayor’s Mansion. This was a very large building, blue and dome-shaped like most Munchkin dwellings, with an imposing look to it. With Krampus on the streets, the people were even more terrified than they were before. The Snickle knocked on the door, and a butler answered it.
“We’ve come to see the Mayor,” said Krampus.
“I’m sorry, but his honor is busy just now,” said the butler.
“Oh, he’ll see me.” With that, the monster held a whip toward the servant, who rushed off to get the mayor. This turned out to be a small man in blue silk pajamas, who said, “What’s so important that you had to draw me away from my nap?”
“I am the Krampus, a being of unspeakable horror.”
“And I’m the Bell-Snickle, Royal Rubber Stopper to the Queen of Oz,” added the rubber creature, who did not want to be left out.
“We demand the release of several prisoners who are now in your jail.”
“Oh, we never release prisoners until after their trials, and usually not even then. The police aren’t likely to make mistakes.”
“Everyone makes mistakes, and some mistakes can be deadly. If you fail to release them, you may start an international incident. One of them, Jack Frost, is the son of the powerful Frost King, who can bury your town in ice and snow.”
“Ice and snow? Ha! Let him try! My town is weather-proofed.”
“Another is a Princess of Oz. Would you want to incur the wrath of Queen Ozma?”
“We’re a law-abiding town. Ozma can’t do anything to us! High Queen or not, she has to learn that her friends can’t just ignore the rules when they feel like it.”
“Well, what about MY master, Santa Claus? He has magic powers beyond your puny comprehension.”
“Oh, magic is no threat if you have the right equipment. Besides, do you really think I’m afraid of an old man on a sled? What’s he going to do, cut off our allowance of Christmas presents? My officers will shoot his reindeer right out of the sky!”
“What?” exclaimed another voice, and a girl who was a head taller than the man rushed to the doorway. “Daddy, I’m behind your desire for law and order, but are you really thinking of declaring war against Santa Claus?”
“Why not? Those immortal nuisances have to learn that they’re not above the law.”
“But aren’t YOU going above the law by challenging sovereigns of other nations? If you go to war with Santa, the children of this town are going to revolt. Need I remind you that the equipment you use to monitor this town and keep up the protection against magic and weather are from a kit I received for Christmas?”
“Look, Amarra, I won’t do it. I stand firm on my principles.”
“Then I’ll release them,” said the girl. With a remote control device in her hand, she ran out into the town, ignoring her father’s threats to send her to bed without dinner. When she reached the jail, with Krampus and the Snickle behind her, she pressed a button that opened the cell door. The prisoners walked out and greeted their liberators, although Huggerumbo, Wisk, and Jack made sure to keep their distance from the demon. When the citizens heard that their mayor was planning on defying both Ozma and Santa Claus, they promptly demanded he step down, appointing his daughter Amarra to the position. They wanted to run him out of town on a rail as well, but Amarra granted her father a pardon, saying that he was trying to do what was best for his citizens. The new mayor agreed to journey to the Emerald City for a meeting with Ozma to try to determine how best to alter the town’s draconic laws. Krampus disappeared in some more thick smoke, after extracting a promise from everyone to behave or he would return.
“Who was he, anyway?” questioned Dorothy.
“Oh, he was a demon who used to punish everyone he thought was naughty,” explained Wisk. “Claus eventually tamed him, as much as you can tame someone like that, and gave him a job. Contrary to what a lot of people think, it isn’t in Claus’s interest to judge and punish, so instead he let Krampus serve as his lawyer. A necessary evil, I suppose you could say.”
“He still gives me the creeps, though,” stated Huggerumbo.
“Sure, but it’s not like polar bears don’t also have a bad reputation in much of the world.”
“By the way, Dorothy, I’m sorry about sending that blizzard to Oz,” said Jack Frost. “Even immortals do strange things when they have crushes. I have a steady girlfriend now, Arctica, daughter of the Golden Goblin.”
“Well, anyone who’s sorry has to be forgiven. Just don’t do it again,” returned Dorothy.
Jack soon used his own magic to return himself to his home in the frozen north, taking the bear and the fairy with him. Dorothy, Toto, the Bell-Snickle, and Amarra made a leisurely trip to the Emerald City, stopping at many places along the way. At her old farmhouse, many tourists wanted to meet her and her dog. When Christmas came and Santa made his typical visit to Ozma’s palace for the day, he brought along Wisk and Huggerumbo, as well as some of his other helpers. Even Krampus made a brief appearance, and Button-Bright swears that he caught the demon playing games with some of the younger children. The newspapers refused to print this, however, as they were afraid it would damage his reputation as a creature of sheer terror.

I attended my first monster truck show yesterday. It's not something I would have thought of doing on my own, but it was fun. Beth had never been to one either, but she'd been interested for a long time, so she suggested going to Monster Jam when there were commercials for it at MetLife Stadium in East Rutherford, New Jersey (pretty close to where we used to live in Secaucus). They had shuttle buses running there from Port Authority, so it was pretty easy getting there. We'd been to the IZOD Center before, but this was the first time we'd been to the stadium, which is where the Giants and Jets play. The show was in three parts: racing, two-wheel stunts, and freestyle. It got a little repetitive, but it was quite impressive to see the trucks going airborne, spinning around on their sides, doing flips, and more. They flipped over a few times, which was pretty disturbing, but they took it in stride. I was interested in the names of the trucks, which were a bit of an odd mix. There was one that was just called Monster Energy after its sponsor, but I don't think any of them others were named that way.

Gravedigger was there, and also a truck called Son-Uva Digger, which I guess was named in honor of the more famous one. Another was Monster Mutt Dalmatian Ice, which seems like they just used every single name suggestion people came up with.

That was one of only two with a woman driver. And Kraken, although named after a giant cephalopod, looked to me like it had a frog-like face.

Oh, well. Ray Harryhausen got the Kraken wrong first. Beth and I were both hoping for some trucks crushing cars, but maybe that's a different kind of show? I wonder if I would have liked this as a kid. There were a lot of really excited children in the audience. It's like how I sometimes wish I'd gotten into pro wrestling in my younger days. Oh, also, someone complimented my Super Mario Bros. T-shirt.

I don't have much else to say, but I feel I should mention that I was noticed in the Don't Let's Start podcast in relation to a newsgroup post I wrote years ago suggesting a connection between the song "Fake Out in Buenos Aires" and Jorge Luis Borges. I mentioned it again when I looked at the Then: The Earlier Years bonus tracks. I actually came across something recently mentioning how Borges' The Book of Imaginary Beings, which I was obsessed with in high school and which was mostly descriptions of mythological beings, included a few that Borges just made up, including the peryton. My post on the Yellow Emperor also mentions a story in the book that doesn't seem to have any actual mythological source.

Beth and I attended several holiday-themed events in the past week, which is part of why I haven't written much recently. On Wednesday, we went with Tavie and Stephanie to an Episcopal church on the Upper East Side of Manhattan for a choral performance. It started with a shortened version of Handel's Messiah, and while there was a group of singers, a lot of the audience joined in and were obviously trained singers themselves. As such, we were silent through most of that. The second part was more of a group effort, with songs that were better known and easier to sing, like "Jingle Bells," "Joy to the World," and "Jolly Old St. Nicholas." There was some multiculturalism in that the Hanukkah song was also included, although I can't say I know Yiddish. I did take German in school, so some of it looked kind of familiar.


On Thursday, we attended a Kevin Geeks Out show at the Alamo Drafthouse. There have apparently been a lot of these, which are multimedia productions that humorously analyze popular culture. This one dealt with Christmas, and included a running gag about Santa Claus getting diarrhea from the food there. Kevin Maher was the host, and there were also presentations by Ryan Arey, Chico Leo, Wendy Mays, Paul Murphy, Bill Scurry, and Kristen Scollee. I don't fully recall which person did which part, although I know Scollee was the one who discussed witches at Christmas, including the Befana and Perchta legends as well as more modern television like Bewitched and some British show, noting the running theme of domesticity. She has a book out that sounds interesting. Another segment looked at the Christmas Fruity Pebbles commercial, and the oft-discussed questions of why Barney is willing to spend so much on costumes and props to steal Fred's cereal instead of just buying his own, and how cavemen would know about Christmas and Santa. His conclusion about the former was that it was mostly Barney wanting Fred to acknowledge him, while for the latter he talked about the theory that the Flintstones actually live in a post-apocalyptic future, which would mean Santa survived the apocalypse but did nothing about it other than putting those who caused it on the naughty list.

This bit included some clips from a Flintstones Christmas special, which is not the same one Beth has on tape, although both have Fred filling in for an ailing Santa. Another presenter showed clips from the 1986 Babes in Toyland with Drew Barrymore and a pre-Bill and Ted Keanu Reeves, which I remember seeing at least part of on TV. It's heavily inspired by the MGM Wizard of Oz in that the fantasy characters have real-world counterparts, and the villain's is a guy who sexually harasses his employee. There was a game where we had to ask whether a Google Image Search would bring up a picture of certain celebrities in Santa suits. Much of the audience, including Beth and me, didn't expect to see Jimi Hendrix in one, but there he is.

Also included were Great Moments in Bad Christmas Specials, a collection of movie clips with holiday robberies (most, but not all, including a robber dressed as Santa), a talk on Christmas novelty songs, and a run-down of the recent genre of conservative Christian films fighting against the imaginary War on Christmas. One of these last was Kirk Cameron's Saving Christmas, which we watched last year, and I don't recommend anyone else do so. I do recommend the Kevin Geeks Out show, though.

We took a bus down to South Jersey on Friday, and on Saturday we went with Beth's Uncle John and cousin Marji to see John Waters in Philadelphia.

We'd been to his Christmas show a few times (that is to say Beth and I have), and a lot of it was the same, but there were some new bits to it. He talked about how he wanted more riots for Christmas, what an anarchist living creche would look like, and his idea for an amusement park with only Gravitrons for rides. Of course, his usual question about whether anyone sexualizes Santa was in there. There was a question-and-answer session afterwards.

This past week or so has been fairly eventful, at least relative to the rest of my recent life, so I might as well give an overview. On Wednesday evening, Beth and I went to Rye Playland, and what a wry playland it was!

Admission was half price after 5 PM, but to get there we had to take the Metro North from Grand Central to Rye, then catch a bus at the train station. We were afraid we might have just missed the bus, but actually it was running a bit late. We went there before four years ago, and it hasn't changed much since then. One of the rides I mentioned back then, Ye Olde Mill, was still there, but not running that day. We did go on a few others I can't recall having ridden before, including Sky Skater, the Crazy Mouse, and Starship 2000. The first one was pretty tame but also painful, while the last of those is more commonly known as a Gravitron. I'm always amused when amusement parks and other attractions have knockoffs of licensed characters, and I'm never sure whether they just hope the copyright holders won't notice or they change them just enough to get away with it. One of the dark rides, the Flying Witch, had Ersatz Freddy Krueger outside and Knockoff Pinhead inside.

Ersatz Freddy says, "Welcome to evening television, bint!"
And do you think the Beatles would have something to say about this kiddie ride?

We're floating along in a yellow boat, a yellow boat, a yellow boat...
I mentioned before how there are pictures of Thor on the Thunder Bolt, but it's actually inclusive of different pantheons.

Zeus and Pegasus are also there, as are possibly Apollo and Artemis, even though they don't traditionally use lightning. Why not Raijin or Indra? Did they not have enough commercial appeal?

I already talked about seeing 31 on Thursday, so I guess I'll move on to Friday, when we visited Beth's aunt's house and saw the new puppy. They had just gotten a new Miniature Pinscher named Sadie not long before that, and then they adopted her brother Tiny as well.

The other two dogs there, Ruby and Ricky, belong to Beth's uncle Harry. Ruby was in the same litter as Clancy and Mabel, and her fur was much darker when she was a puppy. Our friend Stephanie was going to Atlantic City on Saturday, and invited several people to go with her, but it ended up just being her, a friend of hers I don't think we'd met before, Beth, and me. This was the day when the wind from Tropical Storm Hermine was affecting the area, and there was also a policeman shot outside Caesar's early that morning. It was pretty uneventful for us, although we noticed that the part of the Boardwalk where the casinos had closed down (the Showboat and Revel are out of business, and I understand the Trump Taj Mahal will be soon as well) was pretty much covered by a miniature sandstorm. I guess there wasn't as much there to block the sand from the beach. We ate brunch at the Continental, a restaurant in the mall that used to be called Ocean One, and I think is now just the Shops at Caesar's. It had a beach theme and bathrooms with plastic curtains instead of doors. Speaking of Atlantic City, I've always been interested in themed attractions and the names they use. I know the casinos aren't going for authenticity, but if the Taj Mahal is supposed to be India-themed, why is the entertainment venue there called Xanadu? That's a European name for Shangdu in China. Caesar's has the Circus Maximus, which is thematically appropriate, but isn't that where gladiators murdered people? It's weird that are generally a fair number of Indian patrons at a casino with a tacky India theme, and also that the guy who wants to ban Muslims from entering the country named his casino after a building commissioned by a shah. I don't believe Donald Trump owns the casino anymore, but it's still appropriate that another business with his name on it is failing.

We returned to Brooklyn on Sunday, and attended Stephanie's party in the evening. This was the same Stephanie we met in Atlantic City, but not the same one who saw 31 with us, although that Stephanie was also at the party. There are several people we really only see when we're invited to a group event and I wish we could see more often. I'm glad Stephanie invites us to stuff. She has a lot of other friends, and is good at making everybody feel included. Wednesday was the last evening that the Brooklyn Botanic Garden was open this year (the garden is still going to be open, but not at night), and our free passes for the year are going to expire soon, so we stopped by for a few hours.

Parts of it were really dark after the sun had gone day, enough so that it was difficult to figure out where to walk. I'm making it sound worse than it was, but I would have thought they would have had more lights. And I suppose that's pretty much it.

Hey, I've finally written another short story! I don't know why, but my writing often seems to come in short bursts. I'll be totally unmotivated for months, then suddenly sit down and crank out a draft in just a few sittings. I'll get to the actual piece in a little bit, but first some background information.

One topic I find myself frequently coming back to is that of fiction and mythology set on the Moon, particularly that predating mankind actually making the giant leap to there in 1969. Earlier this year, I examined the short film A Trip to the Moon, as well as the alleged visits by Lucian of Samosata and Baron Munchausen. And about four years ago, I gave a brief overview of lunar folklore from around the world, including the Man in the Moon and other supposed inhabitants of the place. One element that interested me was that, while many cultures see a man when they look at the Moon, it's common in China and Japan to see a rabbit instead. Then there's the fact that the Man in the Moon makes appearances as a rather eccentric character in a few works by L. Frank Baum. He's the protagonist of a story in Mother Goose in Prose, puts in a brief cameo in Queen Zixi of Ix, and is depicted in one of John R. Neill's illustrations for Ozma of Oz. Chris Dulabone's recent Three-Headed Elvis Clone Found in Flying Saucer Over Oz uses the character as well. And there's a brief mention in Ruth Plumly Thompson's The Enchanted Island of Oz of King Rupert of Kapurta "looking thoughtfully up at the moon," which I've seen interpreted (although I forget just where) as an indication that he might want to visit there. So I decided to take an idea I'd had for some time and tie it all together, resulting in a story that's both a sequel to Enchanted Island and a mixture of Moon mythology. Enchanted Island was published in 1976, but since it's based on a manuscript Thompson wrote in the fifites, Joe Bongiorno's Royal Timeline of Oz places it in 1953. This date means that I could have Thompson's characters visiting the Moon some time before the Apollo 11 mission (or ANY space missions, for that matter), but unfortunately also meant I couldn't tie in Yankee's lunar orbit from Yankee in Oz. The idea of the Man in the Moon's wife being a giantess actually comes from a Thompson short story, "The Giant Who Did Not Believe in People," which appears in her Wonder Book. Anyway, without further delay, here's the story:
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So, what do you think? Too loony for you, perhaps?

Last night's was the fourth Simpsons episode to take an extended look into a possible future for the characters, the first one being the sixth season "Lisa's Wedding," which took place in the year 2010. I don't think the writers had any idea that the show would still be on then. Anyway, I think this new one tried to cram too much in, and even though the underlying message was decent, I don't think it worked that well. As with some of the earlier future episodes, they did way too many jokes about improbable technology. "Lisa's Wedding" had some of those as well (and hey, it's now 2011, so where are our commercial biplanes and self-aware robots with melting heads?), but it mostly focused on the characters. With the other three, it seemed that the technology gags took precedent. Tonight's episode also had a similar characterization of Bart to the one in "Bart to the Future," which I really didn't like that much. So much of the show suggests that Bart really does have potential to turn his life around, but both of these suggest that in thirty years he's just become more of a loser. Eh, whatever. The stuff with Maggie was kind of cute. The Krusty as Andy Rooney gag was perhaps a bit ill-timed, but not especially so, and I guess that's going to happen when there's a gap between the show being made and aired. I would also imagine that the Sarah Palin bit at the end of American Dad was made before she announced she wasn't going to run in 2012. I liked the American Dad episode, by the way, largely because of how amusingly far-fetched the idea of being excommunicated from every kind of Christianity was. By the way, the service dog Stan shot was named Clancy, which is also the name of one of our dogs. I did watch the Cleveland Show, but as I've never seen Die Hard, I can't say I got most of the jokes. And Family Guy was all right, but I can't really think of anything specific to say about it.

Also, I got this meme from poisonyoulove, so I might as well go ahead with it.

Comment to this post, and I will list five things I associate with you - they might make sense or they might be totally random. Then post that list, with your commentary, to your LJ (or just add a reply back to me). Other people (including me) can get lists from you, and the meme merrily perpetuates itself.

Here are my five:

1. Oz
What makes you think I would be willing to expound upon this topic? :P Seriously, I'm not entirely sure why the Oz books have been my absolute favorites for so long, but it's still the case. It helps that there's a small but active fandom that's still cranking out Oz stories. The quality varies, but some are really good. Did L. Frank Baum have any idea what he had wrought?

2. Mythology
I remember starting to cultivate my interest in mythology, particularly the Greek variety, when I was in elementary school. I recall reading through the entry on the gods in my mom's old Book of Knowledge (published back when it wasn't so much an encyclopedia as a hardcover magazine), and checking out a lot of books on the subject from the library. Obviously it's stuck with me. Many things seem to; I've noticed that I rarely totally lose interest in anything these days, but simply put some things on the back burner from time to time.

3. They Might Be Giants
My favorite band, although I knew of their existence for years before really listening to anything of theirs. It was in college that I first heard a significant amount of their stuff (I lived in an honors dorm, so there were a lot of nerds there), and started buying their albums for myself. It seems that TMBG tends to attract completists who want to hear everything they put out, unless it's just the Internet that attracts such people. And now that their fanbase seems to be averaging out to an increasingly younger crowd, I guess I'm now one of their older fans, although it certainly doesn't feel like it.

4. Politics
I'm not the most politically astute person, but I try to keep at least some tabs on what's going on in the political arena, if only to avoid becoming one of those people who think they're too good to pay attention to current events. I'm obviously on the liberal side of the spectrum, which I'd like to say is because I really care about people, but ultimately it's more or less selfish. I'm not rich, so why would I support politicians who only care about the rich? Mind you, I think that in our country that's largely the case with both major parties, but I'm still a registered Democrat. Lesser of two evils, or something, plus I wouldn't be able to vote in the primaries otherwise.

5. Twitter
I think I first heard about Twitter from 3x1minus1, who's someone with her finger on the pulse of all the new online developments. Well, at least she's much more so than I am, but that's really not saying much. I think what led me to become a pretty regular Twitter user is that it's a good place for one-liners and one-off observations, which I'm generally loath to blog because a one-sentence journal entry seems wrong to me. Yeah, I'm weirdly obsessive-compulsive in that respect. I remember overhearing someone in the break room at work a few days ago talking about how Twitter is just people posting what they had for lunch. My problem with that complaint isn't even so much that there's more to it than that as it is that people wanting to share mundane details is nothing new. It's just that, prior to the Internet, people usually just shared them with anyone who happened to be around, most of whom really didn't care.
With the Internet, it's easier to acquire an audience that might actually take an interest, and when they don't it's easy to just skip the boring parts. I guess Twitter especially, and other social networking sites to a certain extent, is a good substitute for small talk for the socially awkward among us. To me, a lot of the complaints I hear people make about online socialization don't really have anything to do with technology at all, but rather are outgoing people not understanding the rest of us.

I'd been meaning to do a Robin Hood post for a little while now, and it turns out that today is particularly appropriate, as he was a part of medieval English May Day celebrations. Specifically, the Robin Hood games were plays relating to the famous outlaw. Robin is known as the bandit with a social conscience, robbing from the rich and giving to the poor. The movie and television industries has mined the crap out of the Robin Hood legends, from silent films through Douglas Fairbanks and Errol Flynn, moving on to British television series, Disney's anthropomorphic animals, and Mel Brooks's nineties attempt to recapture his glory days. And I'm sure you all know that there's a new Robin Hood movie coming out starring notorious phone-throwing Aussie Russell Crowe as the outlaw. I've seen very few of these Robin Hood features, although I kind of feel that I should at least check out the iconic 1938 version. In this post, however, I'm more concerned with the origins of the character.

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