Matthew S. Williams's Blog, page 164

The Walking Dead Season 3 (Episodes 6 and 7)

Hey all! The wife and I are officially back from up north, where family trials and house sitting combined to create one of the longest weekends on record. In addition, I was limited in terms of internet access, which was why I’ve been a bit stingy with posts lately. For example, when I went away last week, I had yet to do a review for The Walking Dead Season 3 episode 6, and now I’ve come home to view episode 7, which puts me two reviews in the red.

So I thought I’d rectify all that now by doing a two’fer and reviewing both episodes at once. Given the continuity between them and the way the story is shaping up, I don’t think anyone will mind. And when a show is this good and suspenseful, one show tends to blend seamlessly into the next, people always waiting and wanting more! So here goes…

Episode 6: Hounded

The show opens on Rick in the basement of the prison, talking to an unknown source on the phone. A ladies voice tells him they are calling from a “safe place”, and Rick quickly begs to know where this is. Desperate from all the loss and suffering, he seeks a refuge where his people will be safe from now on. However, he soon finds that the callers are wary and suspicious, and don’t trust him much.

Herschel comes to spend time with him and lets him know that the rest of them are waiting on him, but that he should do whatever he needs to to get free and clear of his grief. He inspects the phone that Rick has been receiving the calls from and appears disturbed, as if there’s no signal on the thing at all. However, he leaves Rick to his sadness without word and tells him to come join them when he’s ready.

In Woodbury, Andrea volunteers for Wall duty but quickly distinguishes herself as a loose cannon when she jumps into the fray to kill a Walker with her knife. The Governor pulls her off, but she and he get might cozy over some whiskey and intimate chit chat where she reveals that she liked the gladiator fights in spite of herself. At heart, Andrea is a warrior and wants to fight, and she and the Governor proceed to sleep together.

Out in the forest, Merle and his men are busy hunting Michonne. Her skills with the sword and wariness allow her to get the drop on Merle’s men the first time around and she kills two of them, though she gets wounded in the process. After a group of Walkers interrupt their next encounter, Merle decides to head back to town, and kills his last remaining man who wants to keep looking. Michonne continues on, wounded and covered in Walker entrails, and finds that she is no longer a target for other Walkers. Having masked her scent with the blood and guts of one, she is now safe to roam unhindered.

However, on his way back, he runs into Maggie and Glenn who are out looking for supplies. After a standoff, he takes Maggie hostage and forces Glenn to drive them back to Woodbury. He announces to the Governor that they now have two members of the prison camp in their custody, and is given permission to interrogate them. Naturally, the Governor keeps this all from Andrea, whom he has just woken up next to in his bed.

At the prison, Rick realizes that no one has been calling, that his conversations have been with the memory of all the people who have died. All the previous people he spoke to were members of their group, and the last to speak to him is Lori. He pours his heart out to her, after which she tells him to move on and take care of their baby. Finally healed and in control of his faculties, Rick comes back to the group and embraces his baby. Down below, Daryl and Oscar are busy clearing out another cell block, and manage to find Carol held up in a room. Haggard and suffering from dehydration, she is nonetheless alive and he carries her back out.

Going out to inspect the perimeter, Rick is shocked to see a healthy human standing at the gates next to Walkers. It’s Michonne, who is still covered in guts, and carrying the supplies Glenn and Maggie left behind…

Episode 7: When the Dead Come Knocking

The episode opens in Woodbuy, where Merle has begun interrogating Glenn in the hopes of finding out where his brother, and the rest of the prison group, is located. The interrogation turns violent, with Maggie in the next room forced to listen as Merle beats Glenn mercilessly. In the course of telling him his companions will come for him, he accidentally mentions Andrea’s name, which Merle finds interesting…

At the prison, Michonne begins to draw the attention of the Walkers. Though she is covered in their filth, her wound begins to bleed again and causes them to notice her. She manages to take a few out with her blade, but passes out from exhaustion as they close in on her. Rick and Carl comes to her aid just in time and put her down below in a cage, after tending to her wounds.

Meanwhile, Daryl comes in to announce that he’s found Carol hiding in a cell below. Though beat up, she’s alive and unbit, which is a bit of a miracle for a camp still reeling from the loss of  many of its people. She begins to share her story with them, how she saw their people being kidnapped, and how she came from Woodbury. She wants their help apparently, to slip in and rescue Andrea. Of greatest concern to Rick, however, is the fact that she found the prison with ease, based on directions that she picked up in Woodbury. They form a search party with the intent of finding Glenn and Maggie and load up a car. Rick, Oscar, Daryl, Axel and Beth agree to go with Michonne, and Rick leaves Carl to oversee things. He finally picks a name for his new sister, Judith, after his third grade teacher.

At Michonne’s urging, their party parks near the town and proceeds on foot. However, they are quickly hit by a hoard of Walkers and are forced to fight it out hand to hand. They take refuge in an old abandoned cabin which appears to still be inhabited by an old man who is armed. He seems to be a little out of it and makes a ton of noise, forcing Rick to subdue him. He tries to run for the door, but Michonne kills him with a stab to the chest. Tossing his still-warm body to the Walkers, they run out the back.

In Woodbury, Andrea is made to witness one of the Governor’s inside projects, which consists of Milton – his chief researcher – conducting tests on a “Mr. Coleman”. The man is elderly and near death, and will come back a Walker once he has “reanimated”. The purpose of the test is to gauge if a Walker still remembers who they were once they change. Once dead, they restrain him and wait, and after some time he comes back as a Walker. Milton tries to remove his restraints to get a better read on his responses, but Andrea is forced to stab Mr. Coleman in the head when  he grabs Milton and tries to bite him.

As par of his interrogation, Merle’s sets a Walker loose in Glenn’s cell. Glenn narrowly manages to survive, breaking free of his chair restraints and using a broken arm to stab the Walker in the head. Merle meanwhile tells the Governor of Andrea’s involvement with the other camp, and they wonder if his people will come looking for him. The Governor volunteers to question Maggie and tries the soft approach. However, after she refuses to tell him where her people are, things get a little rough. He demands she strip down, or he will being bringing Glenn’s body parts into the room. He seems poised to rape her, but stops short when it’s clear she still won’t talk…

Instead, he brings Maggie to Glenn and threatens to shoot one of them if they don’t talk. Maggie tells them they are located in the prison and how many they are. The Governor’s people are not convinced ten people could clear a prison in the “Red Zone”, but he is mainly impressed with the feat. The Governor also begins to question Merle’s loyalties, since his brother is with the opposite camp and they are out there. Outside the walls, Rick and his party close in on the town and inspect its defenses. Andrea comes back to the Governor’s office and tells him of the botched experiment, and the Governor tells her its alright, though seems less than pleased…

Summary:

The stage is now set for one big ol’ clusterf@*&! of a confrontation! I can tell you, after all this build up, it feels like there is going to be one hell of a season ender, though it is still a few episodes away at this point. I foresee a successful rescue in the town, followed by a full-scale offensive by the Governor on the prison in retaliation. Well, I don’t exactly foresee it as much as know that something of this nature is going to happen, but I am anxious to see what they do with it. But of course, there’s the matter of what these two episodes accomplished.

First of all, I was pleased with what they did regarding Rick. At the end of episode 5, it was not exactly clear what was going on with him and that phone in the boiler room. But I suspected he was going nuts and this was all a figment of his imagination. Good to see that I was right, mainly because I thought it would be so damn effective! The way he went nuts after losing Lori was quite powerful, especially the scene where he stabs her reanimated corpse again and again in the stomach. They never explained what he was doing there exactly, but it seemed like he was desperately trying to kill an imaginary Walker spawn which thought might have been growing there. Didn’t make sense, since he knew she already had her baby, but it must have seemed perfectly logical to an insane mind.

And then there was the discovery of Carol which I thought was very nice. Not only was it heart warming to bring someone back after they lost T-Dog and Lori, but I actually was a bit confused when I watched the fifth episode and everyone just assumed she was dead. I asked myself “When did that happen? Did I miss something?” Alas, it was not to the case, she was simply missing in action and chose to hide below. Everyone else just assumed she was dead. Now that she’s returned, alongside little Judith who survived childbirth, the group kind of feels like they’ve been blessed with one hand and cursed by the other.

And of course, Michonne’s exploits, which are always totally awesome/badass, were especially so this time around. Not only was she kicking Walker butt, she even managed to kick the crap out of some of Merle’s men. Seriously, the way she jumped from a tree, decapitates one guy, runs another through, and then uses him as a human shield. You don’t get more badass than that! Merle had the right idea after all that, which was to cut his losses and go back home, though his methods (i.e. shooting one of his own) did seem a little out of line.

And of course, the poignant ending, which consists of Glenn and Maggie being kidnapped, and Michonne making her way to the prison, also felt very appropriate. In this show, it always seems like every time something is lost, something is gained. All the time, people die or are separated from the main group, but this usually coincides with new people being added or answers being found. In this way, the narratives maintains its rhythm of being harsh and gritty, but never so bad as to be completely depressing and hopeless.

____

As for episode seven, I think it just graduated to become my new favorite episode of all time. Though it had less in the way of psychological or subtextual commentary going on, it was just loaded with morsels of fun and anxious awesomeness! In this way, it’s the perfect follow-up to a series of episodes that were emotionally heavy and loaded with concerns that the main character – Rick Grimes – might be  going off the deep end and tempting fate. It also wraps up a bunch of things from previous episodes, while trailing us along even further with suspense!

It starts with high tension as Glenn and Maggie are being interrogated and we’re not sure where things will go. Will they surrender their comrades to save their own lives and each other, will the Governor do the unspeakable to Maggie as he did to Michonne in the comic – a friend and I were talking about whether or not they would go there with the series – and will either of them even survive? Naturally, we are left waiting and wondering if the confrontation that is coming will lead to a rescue, or a big ol’ clusterf@*$! that leaves them and others dead.

In addition, the insight into Milton’s world and his ongoing experiments, that I liked quite a bit. Ever since Woodbury has been introduced, its been made perfectly clear that the Governor has a number of secrets, many of which involve his lead researcher. So far, all his experiments have seemed remarkably disgusting, attaching electrodes to Walker brains and seeing how long their heads lived after being cut off. This experiment, involving whether or not any residual humanity remains within, was much more touching. It was also interesting to put Andrea in this setting, as it made her confront her own feelings about losing her sister.

As she asked Milton when he raised the question of “how much do they remember”, she naturally asked him, “did you lose someone?” The question works on two levels, as it not only shows she’s hardened from her experiences, but suggests that anyone who did lose someone close to them would prefer to think that nothing of their former self remains. After all, if you have to kill them, you don’t want to think that anything of them is still there to kill, just some ugly beast that has taken over and must be put down.

Also, there were tender moments as Carol is brought up and reintroduced to the party. Not only was the reunion scene touching, it was important in that it demonstrated to Michonne that Rick and his people might be trustworthy after all. And between her and Glenn’s accidental admission that Andrea was one of them, the Governor now knows where the prison is and is set to attack it. Add to that the fact that Rick, Michonne and Co. are now trooping towards the Governor’s compound and you have a recipe for a the long-awaited confrontation which they’ve been hinting at since episode 2.

Yep, looking forward to seeing how this season wraps up, which is coming in the next three episodes! Action, drama, explosions, climax! And of course, lots and lots of greasy, gory zombie guts! Until next time…

Anthology Sample: The Torch, Part III

Hello again, fellow readers and writers! It’s been a long time since I produced any samples of writing from my group’s anthology, but rest assured we’ve all been busy creating, editing, and illuminating. I myself have been rather derelict in this pursuit recently, having left my prologe story (The Torch) to sit idle for some time. However, I’m back on it now that I’m back in town and have finished work on the latest segment.

I plan to fashion just a few more to finish the piece, which will introduce the larger story, and then get back to recruiting and editing. As it stands, more than two-thirds of the stories have been claimed, one third have been completed, and the rest are still up for grabs. If you’ve been proffered an invitation, consider this your reminder notice. We still need you! I urge you, be the ones to help this vision of the future reach completion before it is too late…

Anyhoo, here is the third segment of Torch, fresh off the press and straight to your laptops, tablets, ereaders or PDAs. Enjoy!

*                    *                    *

The aged mirror’s appraisal of him was less than flattering. It’s ornate brass frame was a thing of beauty, but the tainted glass looked very much as he felt. He finished with his tie, turned to face the room, and moved back in to face the music. Hours of speeches, public addresses, and his own presentation; and yet, he felt that this portion of the evening was the true test of mettle. Walking through the crowd of entrepreneurs, states people and representatives felt like walking a particularly malicious gauntlet. At least when he was on stage he could pretend to be addressing an empty room. The bright lighting made it almost seem as such.

All part of the job description, he told himself. His first stop was to the couple immediately to his left. The Russian Minister of the Environment, Kirill Minksi. Muktari didn’t recognize the woman on his arm; presumably she was someone he was sleeping with, if not his wife.

“Doctor Muktari, quite the lovely lecture,” he said, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. “It was like being in school all over again.”

“Really?” Muktari said. “Do you mean enlightening or stifling and subject to the idiosyncrasies of a single man?”

Both Minski and the woman on his arm laughed. He quickly turned to her and made the introduction. “Where are my manners? Doctor Magid Muktari, this is Klavdiya Chauchat.”

 “Ah yes, the ballerina?” he said, looking at her with a forced smile. Chauchat made a demure little gesture, something akin to a curtsey. “A pleasure, I assure you.”

“Enchanté,” she replied. She placed her fingers in his hand. Muktari chuckled and planted a gentle kiss on them. How little things had changed. Leading ladies still being escorted by men of power and influence, though now it was to summits rather than balls. At least the décor was still just as elegant, and the refreshments just as expensive.

“I was hoping we’d get a chance to talk, Doctor,” Minsky said next. “You’re reputation in government circles precedes you.”

“Is that so?”

“Why yes,” Minsky said with a look of surprise. “I attended the symposium in Luxembourg back in thirty-eight. You lectured there alongside Pracha and Suzuki. You were very good.”

“I remember,” he said. That was in the days of the Luxemburg Agreement, where he had been arguing for governments to include water usage and forestation as basic protocols. He had been but a mere player in those days, taking his cue from more senior experts. He supposed that Minsky saw it as a compliment to be mentioning him in conjunction with the others.

“I was discouraged that it did not have the desired effect.”

Minski chuckled sheepishly. He knew exactly what Muktari meant by that. As soon as the talks in Luxemburg ended, Minsky and his fellow Senators went home to vote the Agreement down in the Federation Council. Many of Muktari’s own colleagues spent years in the East trying to clean things up as a result.

 “Well,” Minski said, raising his glass. “Here’s hoping you and your colleagues have greater success this time around.”

Muktari stifled the urge to say something even more impertinent. He had learned some time ago that certain minds could not be swayed, and reminding of them of that fact was an even less worthy enterprise. He issued a courteous farewell to Muktari and even more cordiale one to Chauchat.

One down, he thought. So, so many to go.

That prospect immediately became cheerier when he spotted a familiar figure standing at the bar. A glass of single malt with ice in his hand and a Tamaki in his mouth. And of course, he looked about as uncomfortable as Muktari felt.

Grigore Mazzini, a fellow company man he had seen since their work in Tunisia. He remembered those days fondly, or more importantly, the nights when he and Mazzini would steal away from the array they had been working on to sample the night life in the capitol. Naturally, Zimmerman had decided to send people from other sectors in to represent their company. He was hoping he might find it at some point during the evening, as he was about the only face he both knew and could expect genuine kindness from.

“Dining on ashes, old friend?” he said as he approached. Mazzini looked at him curiously and then laughed when he saw who it was.

“Magid, you old provocateur, you!”

They embraced in front of the bar and gave each other a hearty kiss on the cheek, as was Muktari’s native custom. When they pulled apart, they were sure to complement each other on their choice of wear.

“I see you’ve updated your old vice?” he asked, nodding to the companion in his hand. Mazzini looked at it as well and scoffed.

“Only way I could smoke in here was to ensure the gentlemen at the door that they were vaporizers.” He took a long haul and let out a tiny vapor trail, watched as it disappeared a short distance from his lips. “Ah! And it’s just not the same.”

Muktari laughed and leaned against the bar with him. “I don’t suppose I could trouble you for one?”

Mazzini reached into his jacket and produced a case. He raised his glass just as soon as Muktari took one and activated it between his lips.

“Shall I tempt you with a spot of devil’s nectar as well?”

Muktari shook his head. “You know me, one vice at a time. Besides, I need some clarity if I want to make it through the night.”

“Trust me, friend. The only way either of us is making it through the night is with a proper numbing.”

“Hmm, I’d prefer a little morphine, in that case.”

Mazzini let out a great big belly laugh. A few heads turned, but otherwise the festivities were undisturbed. And more importantly, Muktari felt like he was actually beginning to enjoy himself a little. Alas, they both knew they couldn’t hide at the bar forever. As company men, they were here at the behest of someone else, and that required them to network and dialogue as much as possible between presentations. The after-parties were as important as the proceedings themselves when it came to fostering goodwill and securing the cooperation of vested interests. Hell, some would say they were even more important.

After a few minutes of idle conversation, Mazzini changed the course of their conversation. The way he introduced it let Magid know it was a matter of some delicacy.

“I, uh, heard an office rumor shortly before I left,” he said, taking a bit of a pause. “It seems they are looking for someone new to head up reclamation in the Arctic Circle. Out of our offices in Oslo.”

“Really?” Magid said. Not exactly a choice position, as it involved a considerable time on board ice trawlers and visiting monitoring stations in the high Arctic, such as Iceland and Baffin Island. Magid’s heart sank when he realized why the topic would be considered delicate…

“Oh no, you don’t mean –”

“I’m afraid so,” Mazzini said. “Word around the offices was that you were considered the top contender, given your background and rumors that you were kicking up some dirt.”

Magid buried his hands in his face. “Oh dear God, no.”

He felt Mazzini’s hand on his shoulder, heard on the onset of comforting words.

“I’m sorry, friend. I tried to warn you that your predilection for taking the long view and saying what you really thought might get you into trouble someday. Though this is considered a promotion, of sorts, everyone felt that you would surely not fail to get the message.”

“They can’t just fire me,” he said decisively. “They’re hoping I quit.”

Mazzini cleared his throat. “Seeing as how I’m letting you in on things, I should also point out that your last assignment was intended to have the same effect. Who knew you would actually find working in the Maghreb to be fulfilling. After you came back with that your presentation in your docket, I’m guessing they figured a transfer to the opposite extreme might… dampen you’re enthusiasm.”

“You mean chill it,” Magid corrected. “Well… message received.”

Mazzini patted him on the shoulder again. “As I said, my friend. I am truly sorry. If there was anything I could do…”

“I know,” Magid replied with a nod. Alas, they were just a bunch of company men, doing as they were told and going where they had to. Little more could be expected of them. “I think I’ll take that drink now.”

Mazzini looked genuinely surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Why not? Seems piety is a little wasted on me right now. Besides, I hear the whiskey is quite good.”

Mazzini laughed, though it sounded tempered. Though he was happy his friend would be joining him in a round, he was a bit hesitant to be involved in his corruption as well. Mazzini needed few excuses to tilt a glass, but anger and depression were good reasons not to in his mind. Still, he called the barman over and ordered two more glasses of what he was drinking.

“Two more Bruichladdich’s please, with ice.”

The barman nodded and went off to fetch their drinks. Many long seconds passed before any words passed between them again. When they did, they sounded about as delicate as before, though arguably more conspiratorial.

“Magid, please don’t look in her direction, but I must inform you that a pretty young thing is looking at you from the far corner.”

Magid sipped from his glass and nodded casually. Adjusting his head ever so slightly to employ his peripherals, be caught little more than blobs of color. For this, he would need more accurate coordinates.

“Which corner would that be?”

“Uh, north-east by my reckoning. Please don’t look at her, she’s still watching.”

“Well…” Magid said, confounded. “Could you describe her to me?”

“Long dark hair, lovely tan complexion, dark dress with a string of precious stones and just enough leg showing to give this old man an injection of frisk.” He swirled the ice cubes in his glass fervently. “I do so hope she’s looking at myself, though I imagine she’s more of what you could use right now.”

Magid chuckled, but shook his head. “Using ladies is not my speed, friend. Besides, I think I’m a little too depressed to be good company to anyone right now.”

“You sure? You’ll change your mind when you see her…”

Finally, and as casually as possible, she looked back in her direction and did a quick spot check. Mazzini was right, in all respects. He caught barely a wisp of her, but she was every bit as beautiful as his friend had let on. Far too comely to be gazing at the likes of them with anything approaching visceral interest.

“I don’t think so. Probably an industrial spy, or our competition, looking to eek some information out of us.”

“At the moment, I don’t care,” Mazzini said, quickly downing his second glass. “And if you’re sure you’re not up to the task, I’m definitely going to approach her. Let us just pray she’s not a professional, working the room.”

Magid frowned and chuckled, more deeply and sinisterly this time. Leave it to good ol’ Grigore to out a dirty spin on things. Leave it to him to leave him high and dry with his depression and the breaking of moral strictures as well. He eyed the glass in front of him and considered sending it back, but at the moment, he needed something to drown his feelings. Taking the glass in hand, he made a quick go of it, and quickly regretted the transaction.

“Whoa…” the barman said, a thick Russian accent discernible. “Another for you, sir?”

“No thank you,” he said, casting a look in Mazzini’s direction. His large frame now completely blocked the image of the stunning young woman. He cast a look around the room, and saw nothing but a night of pointless interaction as well.

Producing a fifty Euro note, he paid for his and Mazzini’s drinks and headed for the coat room. It was going to be a long night, and with nothing more to gained from doing his job, he would spend it doing something arguably less… productive.

*                    *                    *

And that’s section III down, and just three or so more to go! Hoping to avoid stretching those out, as I’m already 6,544 words in and only half-way done, by my reckoning. As you can imagine, I’d like to avoid what I did with Winston Agonistes, which was to break the word count limit by a factor of 2 to 3, depending on which limit I choose to go by. Originally, my group and I had agreed on a 5000 word limit, but we were willing to up it to 8000 in case of necessity. At 15,961 words, you might say I abused that limit just a little. Man, I must like to write !

The Future is Here: Flexible Displays!

It’s like something out of a Neal Stephenson novel, or possibly movies like Minority Report or Red Planet. A display which you can not only morph and twist, but which is barely thicker than a piece of paper. Yes, some pretty impressive developments have been making the rounds in the world of displays of late, most of which are coming to an electronics store near you!

Many of these products were displayed last year at the 2011 Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas, where Samsung unveiled its revolutionary new AMOLED display on a number of items. AMOLED, which stands for active-matrix organic light-emitting diode, is a process where organic compounds are used to form the electroluminescent material while an active matrix takes care of pixelation and display.

The result is a display that can be twisted and shaped without fear of breaking the display, or ruining the picture quality. At CES, many of the displays came on hand-held devices, all of which boasted displays that were almost paper-thin and could be bent, hammered, and still maintain their picture. Check out the video below to see a few such items on display, which have since become commercially available, at least in some discerning sectors of the market.

But what is really exciting about this news is that it is not reserved to any one company. During 2011, virtually all technology firms with a hand in portable devices, laptops and tablets had their own ideas on new-age flexible displays that utilized AMOLED technology. Nokia has its own concept for the “Kinetic Device”, which it demonstrated at the Nokia World Conference in London this past September. This flexible phone is controlled not by touching the screen, but by manipulating the body itself. Check out this video of a demo of the Kinetic running Windows Phone OS.

Megagiants Sony, 3M and Microsoft are also on board, producing videos of products that are under development that utilize holographic technology, bendable displays, and all kinds of neat and futuristic concepts to produce the next great leap in gaming, personal computing, and communications. After viewing the majority of them, it seems clear that the future envisioned here will involve ultra-light, transparent devices that are extremely portable and merged with items we were on our person in the course of everyday life.

We can also expect things like windows and panes of glass to carry displays and interfaces as well, allowing people to get directions and access public databases just about anywhere. Consider the following video as an example of what’s in store. Not to left behind in the speculative department, Samsung produced this video of what they felt the future of tablets would look like:

You know the old saying, the truth is stranger than fiction? Well in this case, it seems the truth is catching up to the fiction. It’s nice when that happens, even if it comes a little bit later than expected. Now if someone would just invent a damn flying car already, we’d be in business!

Source: Huffington Post Tech

Game of Thrones Manga?

It’s a valid question, isn’t it? What if the seminal novels of George RR Martin were adapted into a manga-style graphic novel? That’s the idea behind this concept artwork by deviantArtist joscomie, who packed 49 characters from the series into a single, massive scroll.

As you can see, the infographic is plainly labelled, features characters that are up-to-date (as of the release of A Dance with Dragons), and even features such characters as Aerys, the Others, the Direwolves and the Dragons. Pretty cool huh?

For a look at the original print and more examples of joscomie’s art, follow the infographic to the bottom and click on the link provided:

Source: joscomie.deviantArt

The Future Is Here: Oakley Airwave Goggles!

Remember Project Glass, the Google glasses that featured a heads-up-display and the option for augmented reality? Yeah, that was quite the big ticket news item for fans of cyberpunk and people who felt smartphones were becoming a little passe. Well, it seems that the world of sporting goods doesn’t want to be left out of the loop either!

They are known as the Oakley Airwave goggles, a set of eye wear that allows skiers to to consult stats on a heads-up-display while they are on the sloped. Amongst the information that skiers can project into their field of view are such stats as distance, temperature, speed and altitude. In addition, the goggles have a wireless connection feature which will keep the user apprised of their incoming calls and text messages. No word yet if emails will be included, but one thing at a time I guess

I can remember my father telling me that you could tell if a person was important based on whether or not they carried a cell phone. According to him, unimportant people carried cell phones to look important; whereas important people didn’t need them because people waited on them. Having one only meant that you were on call wherever you were. And I don’t know about you, but the slopes is one place I don’t want to be reached! That’s why I go there in the first place!

Still, it’s a cool concept as far as hands free communication and networking are concerned. Coupled with Project Glass and other such products, this new wave of devices is paving the way for a future in which cell phones are obsolete. I imagine Apple and Blackberry are going to have something to say about this, or possibly an even more revolutionary product in mind. Only time will tell…

Check out this video of the goggles in action:

Source: news.cnet.com

Revengers Mission #2

Good evening, Revengers. Captain Smackdown here, hope you all had a relaxing weekend, because it seems were back in the thick of it. No sooner had we resolved our little problem with the Councilman and Joey “The Stare” Keithly, that I got another report from one of our field assets.

Our superhero Judgement, aka. Rami Ungar, discovered a link between a dirty business tychoon and a certain woman in the DA’s office. Asked to investigate, alongside Veiled Tsunami, to determine if there was a case for corruption or blackmail, he had this to say:

This is Judgement. I’m not going to mince words, so here we go: when we got to the DA’s office, the businessman was dead and the DA had OD’d. At first, I thought it was a lover’s quarrel gone wrong. But then I found something in the businessman’s shoe: a piece of paper with 3 words: “Princess” and “the Oracle”.

Those words have meaning to me. I’ll have to check in with some friends and see if there’s anything to worry about.

Not good news. Could we have some competition in town? Might this be the work of another crime-fighting superhero squad, one with a looser code of conduct? Or did the DA’s office seek to cover its tracks by eliminating a potential leak? Or was the businessman and the DA’s clerk just the tip of the iceberg?

We need to investigate. Which means putting more souls on this, the moment we have a break in this case. All hands, press your sources for info on the names “Princess” and “Oracle”. Whoever, or whatever, these things are, they are now the only leads we have in a double murder case. Meanwhile, I will get on my sources at the good ol’ PD and see if anyone has turned up anything…

Revengers out!

What would you weigh on an exoplanet?

Reblogged from Greta van der Rol:

I was reading an article from somebody, all enthusiastic about the exo-planets the Kepler probe keeps finding. They’re all many times larger than planet Earth even if they’re in the ‘Goldilocks’ zone. You know the one – not too close, not too far, just right. That is, a planet neither too close to its primary nor too far away, where liquid water could exist.

Read more… 356 more words

Now this is interesting!

Pappa Zulu – Chapter 9

“Leadership is intangible, and therefore no weapon ever designed can replace it.”

-Omar N. Bradley

They must have thought themselves brave and noble warriors. Coming home, the taste of victory in their mouths, the feeling that they had done something uncommonly difficult, but carried on through.

To Ross, they looked little better than a bunch of drunken teenagers away on Spring Break. And the smell of them, which he could only guess was a combination of sweat, axle grease and cordite, was just plain horrid. But if he wanted to get a first glimpse at the spoils of their latest foray into the big city, he needed to be here, front row center as the peons cheered their heroes on.

Looking around, one had to guess that half the town had poured into the streets to welcome them home. Men, women, children, entire families; no one seemed to still be in their houses whenever the Rattlesnakes poured in these days. Drunk off of numerous victories, they must have thought that the Mage and his men were truly doing them a service, and intended to show such sentiments whenever it seemed appropriate.

Poor fools, he thought. And yet, it was a good thing. So long as they understood who was in charge and from who’s leadership they benefited, they would never do anything so foolish as to question things or think they could live without the framework that had been put in place to protect them.

And he should hope so, given how important he was to that framework.

Ross waited for the heavies to finish rolling in. These consisted of the heavy tanks and the infantry fighting vehicles, which he surprisingly recognized. Perhaps the time he had spent perusing the battle manuals had actually paid off, the one Thur had provided and insisted he study. It was one of the many contradictions be had been forced to endure as Thur’s pet, given him additional busywork while at the same time pressing him to produce results on the project that actually mattered.

When the Infantry Fighting Vehicles and LAV’s stopped passing by, the Humvees arrived. There, Ross spotted a soldier who looked officious enough to know something, and the glint of bars on his collar indicated that he was a Lieutenant. Good a place as any to start.

He also had to elbow his way through a bit of admiring rabble to get close enough to be heard.

“Excuse me. Excuse me!” he yelled. “Lieutenant. I need to talk to you!”

The Lieutenant looked up from the rear of the Humvee, where his men were already busy unloading equipment. Ross looked to it with sudden fear, knowing the grunts never exercised due caution with fragile materials.

“Careful! That’s all precious!”

The Lieutenant put a hand to Ross’s chest and held him back. “Excuse me, sir. Who are you?”

“I am Doctor Cooper Ross, soldier. Lead researcher for the Mage and the man who asked that your unit find me the cache of lab equipment that was inside that city. Do you have it with you? Is that it there?”

The Lieutenant eyed the boxes his men were offloading. “No sir, you’re requested kit was stowed aboard the Stryker. We didn’t have room.”

Ross looked ahead to the armored column with dismay. There, he saw infantrymen offloading more boxes and crates from the rear of their vehicles, the cabins of the LAV’s having been turned into cargo carriers.

“Are you insane?” he yelled.

The Lieutenant scowled and inched closer to look him in the eye. “I beg your pardon, sir?”

“The instruments I requested are fragile and extremely expensive. You don’t stick those kinds of things in the back of an armored car! They could have been broken!”

“Well I’m sorry sir. There just wasn’t room enough in the back of our Humvees after we took on all the food, ammo and medical supplies we needed. Luxury items had to be stowed elsewhere…”

“Luxury-” Ross’s voice caught in his throat. Were he a fighting man, he would have slapped the Lieutenant in the face, maybe even punched him in the jaw. Luckily, he knew of better ways to put a man in his place, ways that didn’t involve brutish violence. “What is your name, Lieutenant?”

“My name?” he said, unconcerned. “Lieutenant Walter Baker, Alpha Troop Mounted Recon. You want my SSN too?”

“No need!” the Doc said, and proceeded to the armored column ahead. Once he was sure his equipment wasn’t damaged, he would be sure to stop by the Mage’s office to file a complaint. Negligence, insubordination, failure to comply, whatever he could find in the regs. Then again, if anything was damaged, he would be sure to hold the Lieutenant responsible. The Mage would surely take an interest in anything that delayed production of his precious inoculate.

At which point, heads would surely roll…

*               *               *

The lights were dimmed now low, the rule for nighttime light discipline still taking effect. Some time ago, the need to keep the lights off to avoid attracting Whiskeys had gone out the window. Now it was simply a matter of making sure the generators weren’t tacked too much. A good policy, and it suited Dezba’s mood just fine.

As usual, he had scoped out the far corner of the bar. A small table with two chairs, and only the one occupied by his ass. The only companion he wanted tonight was the bottle across from him.

Mercifully, the place was almost empty too. Just about everyone had poured out to welcome the troops home. That cut down on the bar flies, the bar chatter, and the chance that anyone would come up to him to accost him. It was always the same, people asking him the same question every time they saw him.

“Are you a soldier? Are you a veteran? How did you lose your hand? How many did you kill?”

It was his fault. He wore the khakis often enough, but he had little civilian clothes of his own anymore. He never did his own clothes shopping, and without someone else to buy them for him, his wardrobe had fallen into disarray.

And then there was the haircut, which he insisted on keeping short for the longest time. Only in recent weeks did he bother to let it grow again. Maybe he’d grow it out, do an old fashion warrior braid or something. Wouldn’t that be a kick…

But even if he changed clothes, grew out his hair, there was still the little matter of his left arm ending in a stump. No one would fail to notice that. Nor would they fail to notice the look in his eyes. Each attracted attention, stoked curiosity, and seemed to cry out for sympathy, none of which he wanted… ever.

He finished the contents of his glass and eyed the bottle in front of him. At least four more fingers of the delightful golden-brown contents remained, and his glass had grown watery long ago, the outsides slick with condensation.

Grizzly was manning the bar tonight, a rare treat for the flies that frequented the place regularly. Scarcely anyone who showed up at his bar hadn’t heard the tale of how the place had got its name, the Em Nine Special. Though he was surprised he of all people had chosen to stay in tonight. He didn’t bother to ask, as he knew that returning troops was something he’d seen many times before.

And ol’ Grizzly was not one to make his way to the action, more often than not, it found him and was sorry for it. Either way, it felt appropriate to have him here, the token company of the place.

“Boss,” he said, then raised his voice when it became clear Grizzly hadn’t heard him. “Boss! I need more ice.”

Grizzly turned and looked at him over the specs that rested on his nose. Turning up his hearing aid with one hand, he cupped the other around his ear and asked him to repeat himself.

“I need… never mind,” Dezba replied, and got up and made his way to the bar. The glass and bottle rested in one hand, and he placed both down on the fine wood surface and pointed to the ice box. “Need me some of that, old bear. Can you help?”

“For you, sure…” he said, with only a hint of sarcasm. “What brings you back to the bar tonight?”

He shoved a few cubes into the glass and placed it back in front of Dezba.

“Didn’t you hear?” he said, refilling his glass. “I’m on medical. No reporting for duty until the doc discharges me.”

“Ah,” said Grizzly, looking at him down the length of his nose again. “And what about your buds. Where are they these days?”

Dezba took a sip and looked at him, half-frowning. “I don’t know, off on another mission I guess. Last I heard, the northern roads needed to be cleared, the fields retaken for the farmers. Guess the LT took em up that way since they wouldn’t be part of the fun down south.”

Grizzly had taken to drying off the glasses and placing them back in the top rack. The look on his face told Dezba he was content and listen and he should continue.

“Truth is, I haven’t talked to them in weeks. They seem to be getting along fine without me.”

“Ah, I doubt that,” he replied.

“What makes you say that?”

“I seen you and your unit come in here often enough to know that you guys had some real cohesion between ya. Common amongst you folk, always watching each others backs and making sure those bastards don’t get ya. But you guys got along, that’s a rare gift.”

Dezba thought back to the way he and his crew were always ragging on each other, how they would mock his heritage whenever possible. Well, it was mainly Whitman who did that, but he did plenty of the same to him and his. He wasn’t sure that qualified as ‘getting along’, at least not nicely.

“Yeah, well… don’t believe everything you see.”

“Point is kid, someone isn’t forgotten just because they aren’t around anymore. People get remembered long after their gone. People get missed.”

Dezba finished another sip and placed the glass down. All this talk of being missed, of missing others, it was beginning to get under his skin. Not exactly what he was looking for when he sidled up to the bar. Besides, he didn’t agree…

“You’d be surprised ol’ timer.” He downed his glass in one haul and began refilling, his hand trembling from the effort. “People get forgot all the time. One gets lost, another comes in and fills their post. Happens all the time.”

“Really?”

“Hell ya. And the sooner you accept it, the happier you’ll be. It’s not fair to yourself, hanging onto something that aint there anymore. Not fair to person who’s replacing them either. All they want is to do their part and not end up like them. Moment you get too attached though, you can’t function once they’re gone. And they will surely be gone, sooner or later…”

Grizzly nodded and hummed thoughtfully.

“Like it or not, we’re all just expendable. Quicker we fade away, the easier it is for others to move on and do their job.”

Grizzly finished with the glass he was polishing and hung it up quite deliberately. He waited for Dezba to finish his glass and then snatched it from him. Before he could protest, Grizzly had some new words for him.

“There’s just one thing wrong with your theory there, kid.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“You’re not dead. Wherever your crew is, they’re wondering about you. Are you thinking they should just move on without you?”

“Wha- I don’t know!” He fumbled for the words, but was having a hard time of it. He eventually just held up his arm. “I lost my fucking hand, old man! What do I suggest I do about this?”

“You lost a limb,” he said, nodding. “What about the rest of ya? Did you lost that you?”

Dezba didn’t answer. For several moments, he just hung there, slacked jawed and staring. His eyes were beginning to feel a little misty, his skin flushed. Was this the effects of the ample whiskey or was he on the verge of lashing out? He wasn’t sure. He was also surprised to see that he was standing now, and his body was demanding he do something about the build up of pressure in his stomach.

“I gotta piss,” he said, pointing at Grizzly with his index finger. “To be continued!”

The door swung open from the light punch he gave it. He was immediately hit by the stench of old urine and cheap deodorizers. He crinched at the stink, and was hit by a terrible moment of deja vu.

The night before they shipped out. Before LA…

The night he’d done it.

A terrible pain gripped his chest. His eyes clenched shut and hot tears began to fill them. The pain extended down his arm. He screamed at the sensation of a hot blade slicing through his skin. He screamed as the vision of decayed teeth and white eyes closed in around him. He screamed as he realized he was killing them, and that they were his blood.

His screams faded and were replaced by sad moans.

“I’m sorry…” he said, over and over. Even as the medics from the VA Hospital found him huddled on the floor, he continued to plead for forgiveness.

“I’m sorry baby… I’m sorry!”

Revengers Mission #1: The Exciting Conclusion!

Welcome back for the third and final installment in our Revenger Mission One series! Last time, our heroes Atrum Auditor, Erotica Girl and Styka arrived on scene at the city docks to witness a meeting taking place between Councilman Jeff Harlan and crime syndicate boss Joe “The Stare” Keithly. It was meant to be a simple surveillance and capture operation, but it soon went south.

First, Keithly showed up with some hired muscle, ex-military men who had been enhanced to give them telekinetic powers! Then, the team noticed a psychic presence in the area, which appeared to be coming from someone other than the men under surveillance. Something was seriously wrong…

And then, Captain Smackdown and Panacea, fresh from another mission, arrived on the scene hoping to break the tension with a little distraction ploy. Panacea was ready to fly, and the Captain ready to lay a smackdown with his heavy artillery. Everything seemed to be ready to go, until another unexpected surprise happened…

*               *               *

“Ready?” Smackdown said. Panacea opened her door and looked at the ground, speeding precariously fast. “Go!”

Without hesitation, she stepped from the cabin and took to the air. Her arms outstretched, her legs trailing behind her, her body picked up flight and she soared to within fifteen meters of the ground. The entire docks became visible to her as she ascended above the roofs of every warehouse in the area, spotting all the commotion which was taking place around them.

And that’s when she noticed another vehicle coming in from their flank. A hardtop roadster with a lot of pickup, and filled with several armed men from the look of it.

“Captain!” she said into her link. “We’ve got company!”

“More?” he cried. “Where are they coming from?”

“From the north. They look like they’re moving to intercept you.”

The GT slowed and began to arc right on the gravely surface. Small stones were kicked up and the wheels began sliding sideways. The other car was drawing nearer, but was a good few hundred meters away from intercepting Smackdown. She spotted a junction where she could intercept them herself.

“Captain, you keep going for the docks. I’ll take care of these men.”

“You sure?” he said back, but already he was straightening his wheels and proceeding on course to the rallying point.

“Trust me,” she said, echoing his earlier statement. “They won’t know what hit them.”

The Captain hit the gas and the GT flew off. Panacea aimed herself towards the warehouse junction and added a little speed of her own. The cold, wet air whooshed by her ears, and in no time, she was directly above her landing zone. The car was speeding along towards her, the drivers unaware of the person floating above.

She plummeted downward and nailed the three point landing. She had just enough time to see the look on the driver’s face as the headlights reflected off the blue and gold of her uniform. Everyone in the car yelled, but their screams came to an abrupt halt when Panacea’s hands landed on their hood and stopped their car dead in its tracks.

She gave them a few seconds to recover, the driver shoving the airbag out of his face and seeing that she was still there, her hands now fixed under the bumper of the car. The passenger was quicker to respond, stabbing the air bag with a switchblade and bringing his submachinegun forward.

“You boys play nice!” She said, tossing the car up and down a few times to get their attention. They hollered as one, the ones in the back bouncing up and down in their seats. The driver began to scream for her to put them down; but unfortunately for him, the passenger still hadn’t learnt his lesson.

“I’ll kill you bitch!” he yelled, taking aim with his HK. Panacea frowned and tossed the entire car over. Their screams pitched as the car went up, paused in midair as the rear bumper landed on the ground, and then came crashing down, roof first. Glass exploded and flew in all directions, the screams subsiding and becoming a dull moan.

She was sure to check on them before carrying on.

“You boys okay?” she said, looking in the driver’s side window. All were hanging from their seat belts, the concussive force having knocked all air and sense out of them. But they were alive, and unbroken…

“Good! Now if you’ll excuse me, we still have your friends to deal with.” She put her finger to her link and signaled the Captain. “All clear, Captain. See you at the docks.”

The GT’s lights picked up the two cars parked in the distance. He was less than fifty meters from them now, and the locals weren’t taking too well to the disturbance. Kiethly and ran to the other side of the vehicle while his men took up positions around him, the Council doing the same with his car. None of them seemed willing to attack until they knew who they were dealing with though…

Slamming on the brakes and bringing the vehicle in for a tight turn, Smackdown exited the vehicle and placed his weapon on the roof. He aimed for the first of Keithly’s men. They had lost the element of surprise, and they couldn’t hope to take “The Stare” down seperately, but they still had one card to play…

“Evening gents! Sorry to interrupt, but the Councilor wasn’t counting on you showing up heavy.”

From behind the car he was using as a shield, Keithly stood and looked at Smackdown incredulously. He then sent that same look over to the Councilman.

“Who the hell is this, Councilor?”

Harlan looked just as confused as Keithly, though in place of anger, his face carried a sudden sense of fear.

“I don’t know… Who the hell are you?”

“It’s alright, Harlan, we don’t need to pretend anymore. We’ve got this goon and his men surrounded. Just let us take them down and be done with it.”

“Who-the-hell-”

“What? You didn’t think the honorable Harlan was going to cowtow to your interests forever, did you?”

Smackdown smiled at Harlan and gave him a wink. The Councilor’s face began to go white just as Keithly’s face turned a bright shade of red.

So far, so good, Smackdown thought. He had them right there he needed them to be, which was turning on each other rather than working together against a common threat.

“Harlaaaan! What the hell are you trying to pull?!” yelled Keithly.

The Councilman began stuttering a long string of denials and incomprehensible babble. He looked very much like a deer caught in the headlights, suddenly frozen and very much afraid for his life. A shootout looked about ready to happen, but Smackdown had other plans in mind…

He placed his finger to his ear and issued the go order.

“Atrum, NOW!”

Keithly’s thugs all reached for their temples and began to scream at the same time. Between Auditor, Erotica and Styka, they had been hit with a psionic wave powerful enough to stun a an army of ex-military goons. Smackdown used the time to put some bullets in their direction.

The first fell as the bullet struck him clean in the forehead, breaking the skin but leaving his skull and brain matter unharmed. He took aim for the next, but the goon quickly recovered. The bullet had left its chamber but stopped in midair, the man at the other end smiling devilishly.

“What the-?”

“Captain!” Auditor yelled through the link. “We’ve lost control. That other mind we sensed, he’s still here and he’s jamming us!”

“Shit!” Smackdown cried. “Okay, we do this the old fashioned way! Atrum, Styka, Erotica Girl, take out those two goons!”

A series of boots hit the ground on the other side of Keithly’s car. He spotted the three superheroes arrayed in front of him and shoved his goons in their direction. The men drew combat knives and assumed an ready stance, knives at the ready and their minds poised to stop anything our heroes threw.

Erotica, Styka and Atrum all looked at each and smiled. The men charged with their knives, and hit nothing but air.

“What the-?” said the one, and then was caught by a boot to the side of the head. The second began to back off, but was hit from the other side an elbow to the jaw. Both fell to the ground and looked up to see two women standing above them. The one was dressed in her usual smockery of a vest and tank, and placed her thick-soled boot into the man’s face.

The other looked up and spotted a woman dressed in some sensual leather. For a moment, he thought he might be dreaming, and smiled to reveal his bloody teeth.

“Keep dreaming,” Erotica girl said, and lept onto his chest to deliver a boot smack to his skull.

Seeing all this unfold, Keithly broke and tried to make a run for it. He made it to the edge of the nearest warehouse before Auditor, the only one who had yet to reappear, did so in front of him.

“Going somewhere, Mr. Stare?”

Keithly cried out and tried to dash in a different direction, only to be stopped in his steps yet again. He doubled back and dashed again, but found the same face standing in front of him once more. Again and again, he tried to run in a different direction, only to be stopped short by the man dark hat with the shit-eating grin.

“You can’t run, you can’t hide. Give yourself up.”

Keithly didn’t listen and continued to dash around in panic. Auditor sighed and continued to block his path, again and again, until finally he threw his fist up and close-lined the mob boss, sending him to the ground. Stunned, he looked up in time to see Auditor stare down into his eyes to issue some final words…

“You’re secret is out, Stare. And now the world will know all about you…”

Keithly’s eyes drifted shut and his head fell sideways.

Looking up from his spot behind the car door, Smackdown surveyed the scene and nodded approvingly. All hostiles were down. Except the Councilman…

He looked to Harlan’s car and saw no trace of him. He cursed as he realized the SOB had slipped away in the confusion. His finger quickly went to the link in his ear.

“Panacea! Are your airborne. I need you to get eyes on the Councilman and take him down. Bring him back, Panacea! You hear me?”

“Already here!” she announced, though not through the comlink. Landing just meters away, she held the Councilman in her hands. The man looked especially disheveled, having been plucked from the ground while running and carried through the air. His hair a mess and his eyes as big and white as dinner plates, he looked very much prepared to listen to reason…

“Ah, good job,” he said to Panacea. She smiled and nodded in return, and let go of Harlan. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground, though he remained very much conscious.

Auditor, Erotica and Styka joined them next to the Councilman’s huddled body. Smackdown turned to them, casting a quick look in the distance.

“Any sign of that mind you made contact with?”

Auditor closed his eyes and reached out. He shook his head. “No. Whoever it was, he or she is gone now.”

“How about you?” he asked the girls. Both did similar sweeps with their minds and found nothing. “Damn. I guess our friends here brought in more muscle than we could see.”

“They can’t have gone far,” said Styka. “I’m sure we could find them.”

Smackdown looked to Harlan and shook his head. “Nah, they’ll be another time. Right now, we still need to get Mr. Right Honorable to start talking. And I think I know just the way…”

Stepping up next to him, Smackdown kneeled to address him as the others took up positions around him. On one side, Erotica girl and Styka stood over him, their ensembles and bloody boots quickly drawing his eye and producing mixed emotions. He was used to beautiful women standing over him, but not like this.

The sight of Panacea and Auditor on the other side was equally confusing, awe and fear mixing in the same instant. And to make matters worse, Smackdown was now mere inches from his face, his gun smoking in front of him.

“Now, Mr. Councilman… what shall we talk about? Shall we start with your history of working with the mob, or shall we skip ahead to all that’s gone down here tonight?” Harlan frowned and tried to summon up a response, but couldn’t find the words or the clarity of mind to do so. Smackdown continued…

“On the one hand, Keithly and his goons here are out cold. But on the other, we can expect his lawyers to have him out of jail while he awaits trial, where he will surely try to even the score with you. Thanks to me, he thinks you arranged this whole thing, and nothing you could say would convince him otherwise.”

Harlan began to pant heavily and closed his eyes. Tears began to form there, followed by low moans and sobs. Smackdown cleared his throat and looked away. The sight of a grown man crying, in public no less, was not something he was comfortable with.

“So… really, you’ve got only one choice. You announce that your stepping down for health reasons, you go into witness protection, and you tell the DA, the FBI, and anyone else who wants a piece of Kiethly everything you know about him. You take a deal, you spend the rest of your life in another state, another country; wherever. I think you’ll agree, it’s better than the alternative…”

Harlan looked up at Smackdown in time to catch the hangman’s gesture he was doing. Everyone knew Keithly’s favorite way of punishing snitches was to leave them hanging from a meat hook, usually in the vicinity of the docks. Harlan quickly nodded and dropped his head again. In the distance, the sirens began to get closer…

“Ah good, that’d be the cleanup crew waiting to come get you,” Smackdown said, standing. “You be sure to tell them exactly what I told you. Because trust me, even if you could find a way to protect yourself from Keithly, there’s no way you could stay clear of us.”

Smackdown turned to leave, the rest of the squad doing the same. Harlan finally found his voice and issued in their direction.

“Who are you?”

They stopped. Smackdown and the rest turned as one.

“We’re the Revengers,” he said. “Tell your friends about us.”

News From Mars!

An interesting slew of news has been coming from NASA recently, courtesy of the Curiosity Rover and its mission to Mars. First, there was the announcement by John Grotzinger on NPR radio that Curiosity’s science team had discovered something potentially “earth-shattering” on the Red Planet, which came just two days ago. Since then, researchers over at NASA have been keeping a tight lip on what that might be, though it seems to be taking an extraodinary effort to do so. One can only imagine what they’re dying to tell us…

But it seems more stories are coming in the wake of this. First, there was the revelation by the Curiosity Rover that Mars radiation levels, once thought to be problematic for life, are actually safe for humans. According to Don Hassler, the principal investigator on Curiosity’s Radiation Assessment Detector instrument (RAD), Curiosity determined that “the Mars atmosphere is acting as a shield for the radiation on the surface and as the atmosphere gets thicker, that provides more of a shield and therefore we see a dip in our radiation dose.”

Apparently, the levels are equal to what astronauts deal with on the International Space Station, which means people in suits will be able to walk on the Red Planet safely once a manned mission is mounted. Knowing that they can conduct surveys on the surface without additional radiation shields should prove to be a boon for colonization as well. More settlers will certainly be drawn to Mars now that they know they can settle in without having to worry about little things like radiation sickness or mutations!

Third, there was the news that in the wake of making its “one for the history books” discovery, that Curiosity has finished collecting and analyzing soil samples and is preparing to move on. The final checks and preps were made amidst ethereal whirlwinds and twisters, which are characteristic of the region known as the “Gale Crater”, where it has been conducting its research for the past month. The rover is now being prepared to move on in search of suitable targets for a compact rock drill, the final major sample acquisition system to be tested.

Ashwin Vasavada, the deputy project scientist for the Mars Science Laboratory rover at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, Calif, had this to say on the next phase of the mission: “We still would like to get a little further into this Glenelg region where we see this diversity of rocks and layered rocks and other really interesting terrain. And then we still have a goal in the next month or two of doing the big U-turn and heading up to Mount Sharp.”

Mount Sharp is a 3-mile-high mound of layered terrain that sits in the center of the Gale Crater, where Curiosity is expected to spend the bulk of its planned two-year mission. In the meantime, the research team needs to go over all the information Curiosity has sent back, including an ongoing analysis of the martian weather.

On top of all that, there’s still the matter of that “earth shaking news”. How about it NASA? You too, Grotzinger? We’re ready and waiting… how much more time do your researchers need before they’re sure and are free to break the news they are so clearly dying to share? I still say its organic molecules, but what do I know?

Source: news.cnet.com