Sparking Sparkiness

So other than my various First Episode Writeups, I've not felt a whole lot of drive to write very much.  Sure, there's been a post here and there, but only the Wart Hunder post and the recent Cuban cigar story feel like there's any spark to them.  Any surprise that they're both based on personal experience?  Of course not, I love talking about myself.

At least in a more-or-less non-specific way, usually.  What I'm trying to say is that I'm blogging to blog, as opposed to blogging because I want to write something.  "Oh," I hear you saying and I wish you'd quit doing that, "Wonderduck's complaining again."  No, that's not true. 

Well, okay, yes it is.  I'm blogging about not blogging again.  I should do that: write an entire blog about how I'm not blogging.  Seriously though, there are times where I think the only reason I haven't shut down The Pond altogether is that I know I'd just reopen it a day or two later to write something else.  Besides, the 10th Anniversary of The Pond is coming in July... it'd be a shame to not make it when it's that close.  So I guess you'll have to put up with me for a while longer.

Sorry about that.  I'll try to not be awful.

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Night Of The Cuban

Over at friend Ed's place, a discussion of the potential lifting of the Cuban embargo ended up with me mentioning that I've had a Cuban cigar once, but that the explanation would be much longer than a simple comment could handle.  Settle in, my friends, for this is that explanation!

The time is around 1994 or so.  My failed attempt at Grad School has seen Our Hero return to Duckford in disgrace, the sort of disgrace that only the person who had always succeeded can experience.  Our Hero makes his way through life but reluctantly, a simmering anger behind his every word and deed.  After making connections with his old theatre teacher, Our Hero stops being quite as much of a jerk to everybody and sees him make his way to a cool local bar (now a true hangout for hipsters, alas) as a regular thing.  To the point where the bartenders start pulling his beer when he's walking in from the parking lot; that sort of regular.  It's the sort of bar that "intellectuals" would hang out in, all hardwood floors and tin ceilings and a truly startling selection of good beers (remember: 1994... beer snobs hadn't really been invented yet) and some wonderfully tasty not-quite-gourmet food.  The sort of place that bakes its own bread fresh all day in a wood-fired oven.  A great bar with non-bar food?  Sign me up.  Anyway, while sitting there one night sipping on his Kulmbacher (no, not the German one but an inexpensive dark beer on tap that shared the name.  I've never seen it anywhere before or since), in walks Rick (all names have been changed to protect something something something).  Our Hero and Rick have known each other since high school, decent enough friends via the shared experience of being really bad at football one summer back then.  After a couple of hours of catching up, Our Hero gets an invite to Rick's Place.  He and Bob, another mutual friend who's name is changed in this story, share an apartment down by the Candy Bridge, and they recently lost a player from their weekly penny-ante poker game.  Well, sure, why not?  Our Hero is instructed to bring only pennies and at least a dozen cheap beers, the traditional entry fee for the night.

Poker night rolls around and Our Hero, armed with two rolls of pennies and a pair of six-packs of Red White & Blue, he makes his way to Rick's place.  After stashing his beers in the fridge, he gets to see the battlefield for the night.

The arrow points out the apartment's open-air porch where we'd be comfortably ensconced for the night.  Not shown were the truly astounding number of party lights and xmas lights arranged around the porch, nor the ingenious curtain/tarp arrangement that kept it dry in all but the very worst pelting rainstorms.  It turned out that the expected fourth for the game never showed, and his absence was never noted again, nor a replacement found or needed.  As I learned that evening, there were a few set rules for Poker Night.

more...

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Waiting For Something

Dunno what, though.  Something.  In the meantime, though, I've finally decided what the next First Episode Writeup will be.  As it turns out, it was my first choice, I just couldn't find an acceptable video source!  Nori, my computer, is a brilliant package of electronic goodness but one thing she doesn't do well is DVD screenshots.

Which makes her exactly like all the other computers I've ever owned, truth be told.  Earlier today, though, I found a great BD rip of the series and quickly d/l'd the first episode.  So while I eagerly anticipate writing it, you can eagerly anticipate reading it!

Or, y'know, not.  Whatever.

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WT ACTUAL F?

My GOD, people are friggin' annoying.  All frickin' day I've been dealing with idiots, morons and nebbishes, and I've not left my apartment building.

Was it "National Piss Off Wonderduck" day or something?  Because if it was, PEOPLE SUCCEEDED!  From the guy who was trying to argue that Michael Jordan "really wasn't that good" to the whole raft of folks who decided that since I was a college bookstore manager, it was open season on me to the telemarketer who called me four times in 10 minutes to the jerk who felt it was okay to scream at me for using three washers when he needed two and there are only four, it's been one round of annoying annoyances after another.

YARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!!!

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Orion Up

NASA took the first step in getting back into the manned exploration of space business today with the first launch of the Orion spacecraft/Delta IV Heavy rocket system.

I admit to a small amount of disappointment.  When I first heard of the Orion project, this is what I thought of immediately, not the usual rocket/capsule arrangement.  Sure, there's that pesky "nuking your own planet" thing, but I'm sure they could figure something out.

Still, this new Orion is planned to be used to get us to Mars.  However, for this launch it was unmanned... which doesn't mean there wasn't anything on board.  The TV show Sesame Street donated mementos to the flight, including Cookie Monster's cookies, the Inchworm, Super Grover's cape... and Ernie's rubber duckie.

If that isn't the coolest darn thing ever, I don't know what is.

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Oh, This Is Gonna Be Good.

I've just gotten started on First Episode Writeup #2, and I've got that feeling I had during Rio Rainbow Gate!... nothing is being forced, it's all just coming out like it was meant to be, and even better, I'm enjoying it!  While you wait, however, here's pictures.

Quite a lovely photograph, no?  I have it as one of my rotating lock screens as an example of what people like to think of winter looking like.

As opposed to what it really looks like.  Closest thing to a good picture that I've taken with my cellphone.  It hasn't rained much this winter so far, nor has it really snowed.  We had one threat of up to five inches of the white stuff, but all we got was a dusting.

I'm pretty much okay with that, truth be told.

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Electrics

When one thinks of railroading in the US, you either cast your thoughts towards steam engines or diesel.  And rightfully so, those two styles cover probably 95% of the engine types in the country's history.  But there is one other major style, one that often gets overlooked.  That's Electric locomotives.  Now, I'm not talking about the interurbans like Chicago's 'L' trains or New York's subway, but big engines that can pull real trains.

Despite the advantages of the electric, like not having to pull its own fuel around, they never really caught on here in America the way they did overseas.  Probably that's because of the one huge disadvantage electrics bring to the field: infrastructure requirements.  Overhead wiring (or the less-used third rail method) to carry power to the trains had to be installed over the entire length of a run.  The cost of maintenance could be prohibitive, particularly in areas where heavy snow occurred.

That doesn't mean it wasn't used here, though.

Milwaukee Road "Little Joe".

A helluva story behind these.  General Electric originally built 20 of these beasts for an order from the Soviet Union... just as US/Soviet relationships went to hell and they were banned from exporting them.  Eventually 12 of the locos made their way to the Milwaukee Road, where they were known as "Little Joe (Stalin)'s locomotives", which eventually got shortened to "Little Joe."  With a 2-D + D-2 wheel arrangement (meaning two unpowered axles and four powered + four powered and two unpowered), the Little Joes weighed in at roughly half-a-million pounds and generated about 5100hp.  By comparison, the famous EMD F7 freight engine generated 1500hp.  The Little Joes ran out in Montana and Idaho on the Milwaukee Road's Rocky Mountain Division until electric service was retired in 1974.  One survives in running condition at the Illinois Railway Museum, and four others of the 20 survive in non-running shape.

Pennsylvania Railroad GG1

The GG1 entered service in 1935, and wasn't finally retired until 1983.  In between, they were certainly the most distinctive locomotive on America's rails.  Limited to use on the East Coast, they moved both passengers and freight exclusively for the Pennsy, though successor lines (Penn Central, Conrail and spinoffs, Amtrak) continued to use them as well.  They weighed 475000 pounds, generated a continuous 4600hp, though that could increase to 8000hp for short lengths of time.  Over 130 GG1s were built, 15 of which (and the original prototype known as "Rivets") still exist.  None of them are in running condition for many reasons, not least of which was the use of PCBs in their transformers.

So there ya go, a couple of electric locomotives for your perusal.

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Remembering A Time

I remember a time when the world was endlessly fascinating, from the moment I woke up to the time I went to sleep.  It wasn't without its problems, but on the whole it was "an endless summer."

I don't often feel that way anymore.  Now I can't wait to go back to sleep, because my dreams are endlessly fascinating, and everyday life isn't.  It's all about what I'm NOT doing and what I CAN'T do.  I don't like it, but until the job situation changes, there's not much I can do about it.

Remember when the world was endlessly fascinating?  I haven't wanted to be a kid again in a long time and I don't want to be now, but there are times when I envy that Wonderduck of 40 years ago.

He still had his dreams. 

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A Curiously Interesting Form of Frustration

Of late, I've found myself spending time playing a MMO game called War Thunder.  For those who aren't aware of the game, War Thunder is primarily a WWII-era air combat (mostly)sim.  I say "(mostly)sim", because there are three different difficulty levels you can play.  The first is Arcade, where it's nearly impossible to make your plane do Bad Things, like spin or rip your wings off.  Flight models are roughly correct, but relaxed, and there's aiming assistance as well.  The second level is Realistic.  It's difficult to get into a spin, but possible.  You can dismember your airplane, and G-forces can knock your pilot out, though I've never managed that feat.  Damage is modeled in more detail as well... you can ruin a rudder, instead of just doing "tail damage", for example.  Finally, there's Simulator, the highest level possible.  I've never dared climb that mountain, mostly because I don't want to pull my flight stick out of storage.

Everybody starts off with the very wimpiest airplanes, Spanish Civil War-era biplanes or early monoplanes like the P-26 above.  Then, as you fly more, you earn research points to unlock more advanced aircraft.  At the same time, you also research improvements to your current aircraft, like better engine tuning or replacement of worn equipment... that way, your old plane gets better as you get ready for the next generation.

For example, the direct replacement of the Peashooter is the P-36 Hawk, which is replaced in turn by the P-40.  Which is not to say that Americans are the only planes available!  Five nations are currently available: USA, Japan, Germany (with Italy, which are about to be spun off), England and the Soviet Union.  All the legendary planes are able to be earned, from Gladiators to Me262s to some of the "paper airplanes" Japan had on the designer's table when the war ended.

Combat balancing is done on a tier system, roughly based on generational levels.  The P-36, for example, is a Tier I plane, where the P-40 is a Tier II.  The A6M2 Zero is also a Tier II aircraft, as is the Hellcat.  Of course, the Spitfire is anything from a Tier II to a Tier IV, depending on the version you're looking at.  Tier V is where you find the jets... we won't be talking about those!  In any battle, you can see planes within one tier of you... so if you've got a Hellcat, you could be up against A5M4 Claudes or later versions of the Me109s

Fighters are not the only planes in the game, either!  Bombers and seaplanes are also available to fly, and there's nothing sadder than seeing a Zero do unspeakable things to a Swordfish.  So I won't show you that!  Here's a Dauntless instead:

You'll have 20 players or more in an Arcade battle, evenly divided with little regard to nationalities.  It's not uncommon to see Buffaloes being menaced by Wildcats, or Me110s under attack from 109s, for example.  In Realistic, though, it's nationality-based.  If you're in a P-38 Lightning, you won't be dogfighting a Corsair... not that you'd want to in any case.  The flight models would make that a fool's game, and one that'd be short and unhappy for the P-38. 

War Thunder is free-to-play, and the cynic in me wants to add "pay-to-win".  That's not strictly true, however.  Everything a pay player can get is available to the free player as well, it'll just take a lot more time spent grinding away at the tech tree.  One thing that amazes me is just how stunning the game looks. 

While all the pictures in this post are from the in-game replay system, quality doesn't drop when you look at gameplay screenshots.  It really does look this good all the time.  So why don't I just freakin' love War Thunder?

more...

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Twas The Night Before Thanksgiving...

...and The Librarian and I had Italian food and two hours of enjoyably pointless conversation.

For someone like me who professes to hate human beings, I sure miss having the opportunity to talk to them.

Enjoy the mass consumption of turkey and potatoes and stuffing and cranberries and corn souffle and gravy and broccoli and pumpkin pie and other foods.  Or, if you're in a location that doesn't  celebrate America's Thanksgiving Day holiday, have a swell Thursday. 

But consider moving.  Because lots of turkey and potatoes and stuffing and cranberries and corn souffle and gravy and broccoli and pumpkin pie and other foods is a good thing.

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Music! Nonstop!

A week or so ago, I get this e-mail from by brother in feathers GreyDuck talking about having "introduced someone to the Yoshida Brothers the other day."  I had never heard of these people, but I trust GD's taste in music to approximate my own pretty well, so I looked 'em up.

Yoshida Brothers - Rising

Who knew you could shred on shamisen?

Yoshida Brothers - Storm

I'm thinking this was from the soundtrack to the Spy Hunter video game.  If it wasn't, it should have been.
 
Yoshida Brothers - The National Anthem

I've never been a fan of Radiohead, but covers like this could convince me.

There was once a time in my life where the very concept of listening to "world music," no matter how funkified or Americanized it was, would have appalled me.  I guess that's fallen by the wayside, huh?

Thanks, GD!  Good stuff here.

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Farewell, TVJAPN, I Hardly Knew Ye

A few weeks back I was scrolling through the multitude of music channels I have on my satellite dish package.  Mostly from Sirius/XM, with some "CD Channels" that I assume come from DISH itself, they're often a good way to freshen up my music listening experience... even if I have worn out the transponders on 1st Wave (holy crap, there's a Spandau Ballet documentary?  Yes please!) and Watercolors.  Somewhere up there in the sky, there's a satellite with two grooves worn in it... anyway.  I was scrolling through the stations and I went a little too far, into the distant 9000-level channels where One Does Not Go.  I'm not sure why One Does Not Go there, as it's almost all repeats of other channels for backup purposes, things like the Department of Defense channel (not as awesome as you might think), and BYU's in-house station.

And one surprising thing, something listed as TVJAPN.  It was literally the last channel listed, something like #9899 on my grid, and it's exactly what you think it is: a TV channel in Japanese.  It's apparently run through NHK, and is aimed at Japanese nationals living in North America for work or because of globalization or whatever.  News in Japanese, dramas, music/variety shows, all in Japanese.  Oh, and lots and lots of Domu-kun.

For something like three weeks, I had access to it; I assume it was some free preview.

Now, I'm not ashamed to admit that I don't understand Japanese at all.  Some words and phrases I've heard via anime, sure, but not in any coherent way.  That didn't stop me, not one bit!  At least the show listings were in English, which made it easy for me to record them.  Since this is a channel for Japanese expats, there was a lot of travelogue shows to remind them of home.  When an hour-long program is called "A Leisurely Railway Journey Across Japan," you just know it's pretty much made for Wonderduck.

So I've got something like twelve hours of travelogues across the Japanese countryside, and another dozen hours of other stuff, cluttering up my DVR, waiting for the day I feel a need to travel Japan from my comfy chair.

TVJAPN is gone now, replaced by TV Russia, it looks like... but it's listed in cyrillic, so no travelogues for me.  But for a few weeks, it was a fun, unexpected bonus.  No anime, though.

Posted by: Wonderduck at 09:36 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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A Thin Ray Of Sunshine

As the assembled readers of my blog, fondly known as "The Pond Scum", know, it's been a less-than-stellar past three months around these parts.  Two weeks ago, things potentially took a turn for the horrible.  In Illinois, those of us who have been separated from our jobs in a manner that was less than mutually friendly are not, in fact, automatically eligible for Unemployment benefits.  I had to appeal for those benefits, go through a telephone hearing with the State, who approved them... y'see, the rules say that those who were let go had to be let go for "malicious intent" to not get benefits.

Which makes sense.  I mean, if someone is fired because they spent a few hours systematically mutilating mannequins with machetes, they deserve to be let go, right?  Right.  In any case, that's not why I was let go... I'm not going to get into those details here.  Anyway, the State adjudicator ruled in my favor and everything was fine, right?  Nope!  The Company also has the right to appeal, and they did... information of which made it to me two weeks ago.  I made arrangements to speak with a State-appointed attorney on Wednesday.  However, my cellphone was acting up, so I ran to The Old Home Pond to use their phone, make sure I could speak to them.

They agreed to take my case, and all was well, right?  Sure.  As I was leaving The Old Home Pond, I forgot that there was a broken step on the front porch.  They're wide concrete steps, and for whatever reason, I descended the stairs on the opposite side than I normally do... and hit the broken spot.  The result of this saw me face down in the shrubbery on the far side of the porch, scratched and nicked here and there... and my right leg in rather a lot of agony. 

See, the shrubbery is bordered by bricks inset into the ground about halfway... kinda like this... and my shin landed dead center on the end of one of them.  After extricating myself from the predicament, I rolled up my pants leg and saw that the wound was the shape and size of the end of a brick.  Nice.  It was bleeding, and swelling and discoloration occurred almost instantly.

Last week was the hearing for the company's Appeal, with Legal Judge and everything.  Also last week was a lot of discomfort as my leg healed and hurt and wow that's the strangest color ever.  I was told that we'd hear the results of the Appeal "next week," aka this week.  By the end of last week, however, I noticed that my entire lower leg, from the knees to the toes, was still swollen and a darkish red.  After Ph.Duck's wife, Chris (a nurse!) took a look at it, she thought it showed all the symptoms of something called cellulitis... indeed, the picture of the guy's leg on the page looks very similar to mine.  Not exactly though, as mine has lots of bruising involved still.  Anyway, Chris recommended I go see a doctor to get something more official regarding the leg.

So today I went to an emergency care place, and the doctor was pretty sure everything is fine, it's probably inflammation and swelling from the impact... indeed, the impact spot still has a big  knot on it, like there's half a tennis ball under the skin.  If it doesn't show signs of improvement over the coming days, I have a prescription for an antibiotic, but he doesn't think I'll need it.  With a less-dark feeling in my head, I made my way back to Pond Central, just in time for the mail to be delivered... and in there was a letter from the Unemployment folks.  I get to keep my benefits.   Go me.

Still, any sunshine right now is welcome.

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AAAAAARRRGHHHH!

For the love of god, could I please catch a break, just once?

This ends my frustrated complaining for the day.  Thank you for your attention, and we now return you to your regular blog.

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Attention.... Your Attention Please...

Pond Central's internet connection is down, but for once it isn't my service provider's fault!  According to them, the powers-that-be one step above them are having problems.  It's supposed to be fixed today (Wednesday), but... yeah, who knows?

I'm at the Old Home Pond as I write this.  Hopefully, I'll be up later today and I can get you some sweet, sweet Ben-To! episodic review.

Or not.  We'll see.

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Grrr Grumpgrumpgrump

Mood bad.

CLARIFICATION: My mood bad.

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Broken Follow-up

The day never did get any better.  Pointless from the moment I got up (again) to now, just a complete waste of everything that could have been.

I'm trying to keep The Pond from becoming a "Dear Myspace..." column, but it's hard.  Expect some quality this weekend, maybe?  Ben-To! Ep10?  The Buffaloes of Finland?  I have a photoshoot thingy I want to do, but that's really quite involved, surprisingly.

No, not surprisingly at all to anybody who knows me.  Remember the Christmas Carol ducks?  This'll make that rig look like a cardboard box with flashlights stuck in it.  If it's worth overdoing, it's worth really overdoing.

Or it's just as likely I won't get anything done because motivation.  We'll see. 

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Adventures In Broken Sleep Patterns

Wednesday night, I laid down to take a short nap, intending to get up around 1030pm or so and work on a blog-related matter.  I don't remember turning my alarm clock off, but I must have because the next thing I knew, it was 430 in the morning on Thursday.

That was 90 minutes ago, and I'm going back to sleep.  However, I can honestly say that I've learned something: once people get something in their minds, they'll never believe it isn't true, particularly when you present them with facts.  Perhaps especially when you present them with facts.

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Time And Tide

In long-term preparation for a photo project, I had been searching Amazon for a teeny-scale SBD Dauntless model kit.  No, not that small, even smaller.  Nope, smaller than that.  Eventually, I found something that was absolutely perfect: this one from Trumpeter.  Exactly what I was looking for, in fact.  As it's been literally decades since I last put together a model kit, let alone one as... tiny... as that one, and I could envision the need for a larger Dauntless for one or two of the pictures I had in mind, I found another kit that I could practice with. 

Yep, that's right about my speed, even at my best.  Well, that's not entirely the case, but in comparison to Marty Suspenders, I was the flash left on the sprue.  Anyway, while I was adding the kits to my Amazon basket, along with the usual accoutrements required for such an endeavor, it struck me... I didn't need to order this from Amazon, there's a place in Duckford that likely has it all!  So it was with a giddy step and a goofy smile on my face I galumphed my way through the rain to my car.  From there, the destination was clear... ROYAL HOBBY!

more...

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Something Really Completely Different

It's been pretty grim around here of late, and for good reason.  To lighten things up a bit, let me introduce you to my latest music/video obsession: World Order!

The music is catchy, but its the dance moves that makes the group stand out.  As an added bonus, their front man, Genki Sudo, is a retired mixed martial arts / kickboxing fighter.

As you can imagine, their live show appears to be quite impressive.  To the point where I've found myself weeping tears of amazement and regret.

If I hadn't failed in grad school, I could have been doing lighting designs like this.  Or not.  Who knows?  There were tears, let's leave it at that. 

Ben-To! Ep09 is forthcoming ASAP.

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