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There’s a new pop song lighting up the charts right now: “Shut Up and Dance”, by Walk the Moon. It’s evidently so popular that the middle school band teacher arranged it for the concert band’s last concert. I’d never heard it before then, so I decided to check it out to see how close the arrangement had come.

What surprised me most was that this song sounds like it could have been lifted from the 1980’s. Even the lead singer looks like Bill Nye in the 80’s. The chorus progression reminds me a lot of Pat Benetar’s, “Hit Me With Your Best Shot”. It’s certainly got that upbeat 80’s bounce to it.  And the video is practically a paen to the 80’s, both homage and gentle ribbing.

And then I found their cover of “Burning Down the House”.

First Echosmith, now Walk The Moon (their name derives from a Police song). Are the 80’s coming back? If true I know some people who will be moving to Botswana. But this is the music of my mispent youth. I’m willing to see what musicians of today can do with it.

Michael J. Sullivan, one of my favorite authors, wanted to release a new book in his Riyria series next year, but contract obligations on other books coming out next year made that impossible. So he’s going to try to get it released by the end of this year, and to do that he’s going to self-publish. He’s no stranger to this–it’s how he got started. Nor is he a stranger to Kickstarter, having successfully used it to publish his novel “Hollow World”. So as of today he’s opened a Kickstarter campaign to finance work on “Riyria Chronicles: The Death of Dulgath“.

Michael J. Sullivan is a terrific author and something of a role-model to me, both as someone who wanted to be a writer, gave up, and then came back years later to try again (and succeed), and as the type of “nice guy” writer I’d like to be if I ever find myself in a similar position. I’m still working through the first three of his Riyria novels, but as I understand it the fourth and fifth (and pending sixth) novels, while in the same setting with the same characters, can be read independently.

Sullivan is also of a similar mind as far as what kind of stories he likes to write (well, duh, otherwise I wouldn’t like him!). His novels, while certainly full of action and unpleasantness, avoid stepping over into the “dark-n-gritty” fantasy that’s so popular these days. He wants to write “fun adventure stories”, and that’s what you get with him. Clearly he’s not an aberation, as he’s probably one of the most successful fantasy writers out there right now. He just doesn’t get the press that writers like Brandon Sanderson or George R. R. Martin seem to get. He’s built his following differently. And frankly, I think he represents the future of publishing–a writer who is equally comfortable self-publishing when it suits, working with traditional publishers when it suits, and using technology to get his readers exactly what he wants.

Add to that Sullivan is active in teaching others to write. In fact, along with this new novel comes an opportunity for aspiring writers looking to get their name out. Sullivan and his wife have committed to giving feedback on all coverletters sent to them. From among these one will be chosen, their story critiqued by him and his wife, copy-edited by the same professional editor he will use, and included in the book when it comes out. Oh yeah, he’ll also pay over twice the going rate for the story itself. Exposure and payment! The guy rocks.

Pledges start at $5, with a special edition hardcover available at the highest level of $150. There are also additional bonus offers available for Riyria merchandise. Check it out over at Kickstarter. I’m already in.

I had binders full of women before Mitt Romney did. Women and men, and some children, too. Of course mine were on character sheets, whereas Mitt’s were resumes, but…well, I think mine was more fun.

It’s been close to twenty years since I last played the Star Trek Roleplaying Game. Most everything, including the binders, has been sitting in a box in my shed. Faced with a new summer vacation rapidly approaching and a bored pre-teen son I decided I needed something to keep him occupied. I was originally looking for my Star Wars RPG manual–the game system is simpler, and he’s more familiar with the source material–but I couldn’t find it. So I dug out The Box.

I’m not sure my son is all that interested, but I had a fun jog down memory lane. My sister and I were serious gamers in our day. We didn’t just have a few characters, we populated a world (literally) with them. We played adventures, and we played the parts in between–there was little difference to us, really. Plot points could happen during off-hours as easily as during. It was pretty hardcore. And it was a blast!

Alas, my memory is fading far faster than I’d prefer. I found myself trying to remember who some of these characters were and drew blanks. Perhaps my sister and I need to have a Starbase Two reunion sometime. If my kids think I’m crazy now…

We had a few other players join us here and there, but it was mostly my sister and I. Ah, those were good times.

I did find my SW:RPG book eventually. My son knew where it was the moment I mentioned it. I think I’ll start there with my kids and leave Star Trek off the table for now. You just don’t catch lightning in a jar twice, more than likely.

A recently-married nephew of mine was posting recently on Facebook requesting suggestions for new music he should listen to. I didn’t read much of the thread, as the stuff people were recommending didn’t sound like anything I listen to, and so I wasn’t sure I had anything to add. When I checked back later, though, my sister had chimed in recommending he try some Tijuana Brass, as he was listening to too many “angry Germans” and needed something more cheerful.

I had to laugh, but I know what she’s talking about. I had my own “angry German” phase, although it was angry Swedes in my day. In my late teenage years, whenever I’d get depressed, I’d put on the soundtrack to the musical “Chess” and wallow in angst until I’d had enough. “Chess”, if you’re not familiar with it, is not a happy musical. It begins with people moderately happy, and then it’s all downhill from there until no one is happy. There are some fantastic musical moments in it, but close to thirty years later I can’t bear to listen to it any more.

Conversely, when my sister mentioned Tijuana Brass my brain immediately associated it with happy, upbeat music (which is odd, because Herb Alpert intially broke out with the rather sad “The Lonely Bull”). I remember listening to Herb Alpert (the Tijuana Brass were an invention of his, and was really just him laying down several tracks in the studio. Later on when he was famous enough he had to hire some musicians to be the Tijuana Brass) as a kid, and even bought an album or two when he dropped the Brass and moved toward Jazz. And then he dropped off my radar.

Thanks, Sis! I’m in the mood for a little psuedo-mariachi bounce today!

Here’s one from one of the albums I bought. Long live Disco!

And then there’s this one I rather liked…

https://youtu.be/duIvOuuFpfU

UPDATE: In the process of reliving some old memories I ran across an interesting tidbit I hadn’t known. Herb Alpert gave The Carpenters their break when he signed them to his label and later brought the song “Close to You” to their attention.

How the New York Times Bestsellers are chosen (Mwah ha ha ha ha…..)

Nowdays we mock women of the Victorian and Edwardian periods as being impossibly weak creatures who couldn’t bear insult or negative feedback without swooning. Perhaps we shouldn’t. The modern woman apparently is in danger of becoming every bit as incapable of dealing with such things. Question her beliefs and she will swoon–and then reach for the biggest legal stick she can find to silence you so that she need never face a contrary thought again. At least that is what happened in the case of Laura Kipnis, as summarized by Glenn Harland Reynolds’ column in USA Today:

Feminist professor Laura Kipnis of Northwestern University published an essay in The Chronicle of Higher Education in February, decrying “sexual paranoia” on campus and the way virtually any classroom mention of sex was being subjected to an odd sort of neo-Victorian prudery: “Students were being encouraged to regard themselves as such exquisitely sensitive creatures that an errant classroom remark could impede their education, as such hothouse flowers that an unfunny joke was likely to create lasting trauma. … In the post-Title IX landscape, sexual panic rules. Slippery slopes abound.”

This article sat poorly with campus activists, who in response reported her for sexual harassment, on the theory that this article (and a follow-up tweet — yes, that’s right, a tweet) somehow might have created a hostile environment for female students, which would violate Title IX as interpreted by the Education Department. Because, you see, female students, according to feminists, are too fragile to face disagreement. And they’ll demonstrate this fragility by subjecting you to Stalinist persecution if you challenge them, apparently.

I remember when Feminism was about women proving themselves the equals of men. Today’s feminists appear to have surrendered the fight and, rather than prove they are the males’ equals, seek to blunt, cushion, and dumb down the rest of the world to make it equal to them. I’m sorry, but I fail to see how that is progress. “Harrison Bergeron” was a warning, not a how-to manual.

We don’t create bright, intelligent, strong women by shielding them from anything unpleasant. As a parent I have to continually fight against the instinct to try and shield my children from the unpleasant things in life. I do my daughter no favors by trying to help her avoid anything negative in life–especially when much of the negativity she experiences comes from other girls. I do nothing to prepare her by simply making her a victim, by convincing her that boys (and later, men) are the enemy and should be silenced.

Especially when many of her mentors to date have been men. She starts high school next year, and wants to join the band. The band teacher, who is male, has been responding quite supportively to her email inquiries, and will be meeting with her this afternoon to give her beginning instruction in her chosen instrument. This man is not the enemy. Nor is her male choir teacher these past two years who has encouraged her musicial pursuits. Nor is her male math teacher who refused to change the requirements of the class just because she didn’t like some of the homework.

Muscles and callouses are built by pushing through resistance, irritation, and strain. We don’t build tougher women by cushioning them from anything that might actually make them stronger. We won’t succeed as a society if we teach our daughters that the only response to contrary opinions is to silence them. We need to teach them to engage opposition, out-think them, and defeat them on their own turf, not just cry until someone with a big enough stick comes to their defense. We need to resist the urge to cloister them away in safe universities where they are told they are a delicate flower who can’t be trusted to defend themselves or face opposition of any kind. It seems ironic that feminists seem to be aware that it’s a nasty, brutish world out there, and yet their response is to create a generation of women who are entirely unprepared to face it. Do they really think that if ISIS were to get a foothold in America that they’d give a crap about Facebook firestorms and Title IX investigations? Do they think they can intimidate them into obtaining clear consent?

Good luck with that. I’ll prepare my daughter differently.

I lived in Australia for a couple of years, and during that time I, in Westley-esque fashion, built up an immunity to iocane powder Vegemite. I like it, frankly. But I always thought I was being a little wussy about it, as I’d only use it sparingly on my morning toast. Well, evidently Jimmy Fallon got suckered into trying it by someone who wanted to blow his head off with the stuff, so Hugh Jackman came on the show to set him straight. As it turns out, I evidently had it right all along. Behold:

We’re used to birds around our yard. We encourage it. We put up several bird feeders next to our deck, after all. We hang up a new bird house each year after completing one with our cub scouts. And every year those bird houses have been occupied. We had a family of robins at our previous house who nested every year in our lilac bush. But this year brought us something new we’ve not encountered before.

My wife went to clean out the leaves that had built up in a corner where our fence meets our house and found some odd looking rocks among the leaves. She soon realized they weren’t rocks, but quail eggs–five of them. She left them alone, and later on checked back to find they had not been abandoned.

Over the next several days the mother would be gone for periods of time, and every time we checked the nest there would be two more eggs than previously. I think we were up to eleven before the mother stopped leaving the nest so we could sneak in and count.

So now we’re providing a maternity ward for future fuzzballs. We have a group of quail or two in our neighborhood, and each year they suddenly show up with chicks in tow, not much bigger than my thumb. They’re the cutest little things. And this year we’ll know where they came from.

For the next three weeks, however, we are trying not to disturb the mother. This is not easy, considering she’s nested not far from our garbage bins. We worry about her–that’s a rather exposed location, and she’s nested on the ground. There haven’t been stray cats around for a while now, but that doesn’t mean there’s no danger. But we can’t think of anything we can do to add protection that wouldn’t either make things potentially worse for her or frighten her too much while we put it up.

So for now we wait, we worry, and we keep our eyes open. Good luck, little quail mama!

If we’re able to get pictures of the chicks we’ll post them. But until then, this is what they’re supposed to look like: