Starting with a bit of Harry Belafonte:
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Monday, October 21, 2013
A Vitally Important Existential Question
Why is the rum always gone???
Oh, right. Because I have children... and a budget. Got it.
Oh, right. Because I have children... and a budget. Got it.
Halloween Music: Nemesis
Starting with Shriekback, of course:
(If you were a devotee of The Church in Dallas, then you probably already know that you can do the Macarena to this song.)
(If you were a devotee of The Church in Dallas, then you probably already know that you can do the Macarena to this song.)
Friday, October 18, 2013
Music: Club Villain
Back at work, but still not completely back together. This is all I've got. (Lyrics may not be entirely work-safe; headphones recommended on the first go.)
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Sick
The whole family is sick. Secondborn has been dealing with croup. Firstborn got something that's either a huge reaction to a spider bite, or else a staph infection (my money's on staph infection); he received a massive dose of antibiotics by way of two huge needles, and is now recovering. Beautiful Wife and I have both been nursing persistent headaches, and yesterday my guts decided that they weren't happy either.
So, this morning you only get one piece of music, and it's... topical.
So, this morning you only get one piece of music, and it's... topical.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Halloween Music: Sinister Men
Let's start with something that should be familiar... Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, "Red Right Hand":
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Notes from the Mad Science Lab: No More Zombies
Have a seat, everyone. Are you all comfortable? Good. Then I'll begin.
I know what you've been doing. Honestly, you should all know by now that I monitor every inch of this installation, from the vehicle bays to the cryptozoo. I keep particularly close track of what happens in the labs. So I know about your drunken night out in the canteen. I know, down to the milliliter, exactly how much alcohol each of you drank. I can replay your entire conversation, complete with gestures, exactly as captured by no less than a dozen microphones and six different camera angles.
So I am very well aware that when you stumbled out of the canteen and back to the labs, you had been discussing a prank. It's nearly Halloween, after all, and you work in a laboratory. Once you realized that you could create some artificial zombies and scare the hell out of the minions -- and possibly myself -- I'm sure the temptation was irresistible. Unfortunately, all three of you got completely carried away.
I'm not entirely disappointed by this. I hired you for your initiative, after all, as well as your intelligence. And, really, if you didn't sometimes take things a little too far, and run the risk of ending civilization as we know it, what sort of researchers would you be? No, you are my assistants, and you should feel free to pursue your own projects when you are not otherwise occupied. That said...
Sam, in deciding to use a self-reproducing nanostructure to reanimate your corpse, you failed to consider what sort of failsafes might be necessary. Your infection has now claimed fully half of our minions, who are now shambling around outside the cryptozoo in the hope of infecting everything inside. This is why you should never attempt science while you are drunk.
Cassius, your decision to use "just a little" necroactive radiation to give your zombie an "aura of menace" has resulted in a creation that kills people by its mere presence. Anyone who comes within about ten feet of the thing... dies. Only about half of them reanimate, but Sam's shamblers have already infected several of the stray corpses that your radiation zombies have left behind. This has accounted for another quarter of our minions.
Bart... You, at least, cobbled together a wholly artificial creature that lacks any capability for infecting others. However, you appear to have given it a particularly active brain, and for the last fourteen hours it has been kidnapping minions, killing them, and constructing more creatures like itself - presumably to give it some company. So far there are only three of them, but their intelligence makes them vastly more dangerous than the zombies your peers created.
As a result of your combined efforts, there are now exactly three... two minions who remain alive. This is your mess, gentlemen. I expect you to clean it up. You will, of course, have access to anything in the armory... provided you can get to it. The minions and I will monitor your progress from my office. Please note that I will have the defense system up, including the turrets, so driving your zombies to my office door is a viable strategic option... provided that the hallway is completely clean by the time I emerge. Approaching the door yourselves, under any circumstances, is an extremely bad idea.
Is all that clear? Very good. Go to it, gentlemen.
I know what you've been doing. Honestly, you should all know by now that I monitor every inch of this installation, from the vehicle bays to the cryptozoo. I keep particularly close track of what happens in the labs. So I know about your drunken night out in the canteen. I know, down to the milliliter, exactly how much alcohol each of you drank. I can replay your entire conversation, complete with gestures, exactly as captured by no less than a dozen microphones and six different camera angles.
So I am very well aware that when you stumbled out of the canteen and back to the labs, you had been discussing a prank. It's nearly Halloween, after all, and you work in a laboratory. Once you realized that you could create some artificial zombies and scare the hell out of the minions -- and possibly myself -- I'm sure the temptation was irresistible. Unfortunately, all three of you got completely carried away.
I'm not entirely disappointed by this. I hired you for your initiative, after all, as well as your intelligence. And, really, if you didn't sometimes take things a little too far, and run the risk of ending civilization as we know it, what sort of researchers would you be? No, you are my assistants, and you should feel free to pursue your own projects when you are not otherwise occupied. That said...
Sam, in deciding to use a self-reproducing nanostructure to reanimate your corpse, you failed to consider what sort of failsafes might be necessary. Your infection has now claimed fully half of our minions, who are now shambling around outside the cryptozoo in the hope of infecting everything inside. This is why you should never attempt science while you are drunk.
Cassius, your decision to use "just a little" necroactive radiation to give your zombie an "aura of menace" has resulted in a creation that kills people by its mere presence. Anyone who comes within about ten feet of the thing... dies. Only about half of them reanimate, but Sam's shamblers have already infected several of the stray corpses that your radiation zombies have left behind. This has accounted for another quarter of our minions.
Bart... You, at least, cobbled together a wholly artificial creature that lacks any capability for infecting others. However, you appear to have given it a particularly active brain, and for the last fourteen hours it has been kidnapping minions, killing them, and constructing more creatures like itself - presumably to give it some company. So far there are only three of them, but their intelligence makes them vastly more dangerous than the zombies your peers created.
As a result of your combined efforts, there are now exactly three... two minions who remain alive. This is your mess, gentlemen. I expect you to clean it up. You will, of course, have access to anything in the armory... provided you can get to it. The minions and I will monitor your progress from my office. Please note that I will have the defense system up, including the turrets, so driving your zombies to my office door is a viable strategic option... provided that the hallway is completely clean by the time I emerge. Approaching the door yourselves, under any circumstances, is an extremely bad idea.
Is all that clear? Very good. Go to it, gentlemen.
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