Stephen Mark Rainey's Blog, page 15

Japanese Giants Gallery

Many, if not most, of the folks who visit my blog might remember that I first dove into the publishing arena with Japanese Giants , a fanzine called I created when I was in ninth grade — Spring 1974, to be precise. It was an 18-page, offset-printed love letter to giant Japanese monsters, featuring part one of a Destroy All Monsters filmbook, reviews of the TV shows Ultraman and Johnny Sokko & His Flying Robot , a couple of editorials, and a bunch of art that several of my friends and I drew for the issue. Inspired by my good friend Greg Shoemaker's renowned Japanese Fantasy Film Journal , I hoped that Japanese Giants might go on to become prominent in the fanzine landscape of the mid-1970s. And it actually did, though not quite in the way I had foreseen.
I sold a good number of the 200 printed copies of issue #1, but it wasn't enough to cover the full cost of producing it, and my allowance in those days couldn't quite make up the remainder. I sadly resolved to pack it in, but more or less out of the blue, a young gentleman named Brad Boyle from Salt Lake City, Utah, stepped in and offered to take the Japanese Giants torch and run with it. He produced issue #s 2, 3, and 4 before he, too, let go of the reins. By this time, I was good friends with diehard daikaiju fans Ed Godziszewski and Bill Gudmundson, who thought that, as a trio, we should keep JG going. Ed was a few years older than Bill and me, and he had a real job with substantial disposable income. So, the three of us became the official Japanese Giants Guys, and the magazine continued — the last few issues under Ed's sole editorship — until issue #10.

Here are the covers of the full set of issues. Note that issue #8 — possibly the rarest of them — sold out quickly, and I have no idea whatever happened to my copy. What you are looking at gentlemen, is the cover of issue #8, as science has been able to reconstruct it for you...

Here are a few links to sites with info and images from and about Japanese Giants:

• VANTAGE POINT INTERVIEWS: Documenting Giants from Japan! Stephen Mark Rainey on Creating the Celebrated Fanzine Japanese Giants

• VANTAGE POINT INTERVIEWS: Memoirs of a Godzilla Fandom Pioneer! Bradford Boyle on Publishing the Seminal Fanzine Japanese Giants

• TOHO KINGDOM Interview with Ed Godziszewski

• WIKIPEDIA: Japanese Giants

Many...Monsters!

Godzilla vs. Hedorah (a.k.a. the Smog Monster)
As far back as the early 1970s, I had amassed a pretty huge collection of daikaiju movie memorabilia, including the then-available plastic monster models from Aurora — Godzilla, Rodan, and King Ghidorah. And in the early-to-mid-1980s when I lived in Chicago, I did a lot of modeling, primarily military aircraft, giant mecha from various anime franchises, and... daikaiju! Inspired by my good friend and roommate, Bill Gudmundson, I put together a few Japanese monster resin kits, brought to us by Mr. Miyawaki, who owned Kayodo modeling company, and scratch built a handful of my own. After the 1980s, I pretty much quit collecting, well, anything.

Relatively recently, however, I took a shine to some of the available daikaiju figures from Japan. All too many of them are way beyond my price range, but I have occasionally picked up some of the less-expensive figures and customized them a bit. And these can be fun to pop into some composited digital scenes, which I'm including here just for the hell of it. MechaGodzilla, Angilas, King Seesar, and Godzilla from Godzilla vs. MechaGodzilla
Gigan from Godzilla vs. Gigan
Godzilla vs. Angilas from Godzilla Raids Again (No, I don't care what Toho has done, I will not spell it "Anguirus"; Angilas was good for a lot of years, and it's perfectly proper.)
Baragon from Frankenstein Conquers the World
MechaGodzilla 2, Titanosaurus, and Godzilla from Terror of MechaGodzilla
Gorosaurus from King Kong Escapes

Miscreants in Midland

Monday, July 22, 2024
Yes, we're off to Midland, MI, again. Ms. B.'s folks are aging and need some extra help these days, so Kimberly goes up every couple of months. I accompany her from time to time and do what I can to help keep them living in their home of many years.

To get reasonably affordable flights, we have to pick those that go at the least convenient times, almost always before the ass-crack of dawn. We packed our bags yesterday, rose this morning at 3:30 a.m., and set out on the road, bound for Greensboro's Piedmont Triad International, by 4:00 a.m. We had a little bonus time this morning because our flight left at 6:30 a.m., rather than the customary 6:00 a.m. We connected at Chicago O'Hare, with less than an hour between our arrival and subsequent departure.

Both flights went off without a hitch, for which we were very grateful. After the big Windows crash this past weekend, there was still evidence of glitches in the airline systems; most all the info screens were still blank, and lots of bedraggled folks huddled and/or slept in various corners all over O'Hare, where we made our connection. There but for the grace of Yog...

Anyway, Del & Fern met us at Saginaw International, and we headed to the homestead. A quick lunch of sandwiches for us, and then I took a lengthy walk around the neighborhood. For the rest of the afternoon, we hung out with the folks, and then Ms. B. and I headed out for a relatively early dinner. We'd set our sights on Molasses , our favorite local BBQ destination, but they were closed for some remodeling. Hang it all! So we moseyed over to nearby Whichcraft , known for their plentiful stock of local brews and spirits. I tried their BBQ sandwich, which wasn't bad, but hardly of Molasses caliber. Their chipotle vodka Bloody Mary was also just so-so; thus, I can only give them a 3.5 out of 5 this time around. Last time we were there, my choices were apparently superior. Afterward, I found a cache.

The rest of the evening was our typical hangout at the homestead: watching television with the folks — most game shows this time — and enjoying a spot of wine. Since it had been quite a long day since 3:30 a.m., I retired early.

Tuesday, July 23, 2024 Old man and cache find #15,000

Up early for me, not so much for Ms. B. I made a nice breakfast of bacon, egg, and toast, with a bucket of coffee, and then headed out for some geocaching. I needed five to reach my 15,000-find milestone, so I set my sights on the Pine Haven Recreation Area , an extensive trail system out toward Sanford. I snagged a handful of caches along the trail, culminating with my 15,000th, which turned out to be a clever, well-constructed cache, worthy of a milestone find. I also discovered one of the world's biggest caches of mosquitoes, for the woods were full of them, and they came at me relentlessly — far worse than anything we typically encounter down south. And I had gone out without bug spray. Oy!

From there, I trucked over to the nearby Père Marquette Rail Trail , which runs thirty miles between Midland and Clare, with a geocache placed every tenth of a mile along most of it. I've cached several sections, but there are still many miles left for me to hunt. Along the trail, the summer growth was so thick and high that, in some places, getting to the caches was worse than problematic, so I only claimed five on today's outing. Again, the mosquito assault on my person was a thing out of some dark legend. Next time out, there will be bug spray. Lots of it.

These days, Del & Fern prefer to have their biggest meal of the day in the afternoon, so back at Casa di Brugger, I prepared a grand dinner of Chicken Piccata, which they've enjoyed in the past. It turned out quite good, so perhaps they'll continue to claim me as their son-in-law for a while longer.

Later in the afternoon, Ms. B. and I drove up to Calvary Cemetery, a few miles north of Midland, so I could snag a few more caches and she could wander among the graves. I found several, and she found a very friendly groundhog, which seemed quite happy to frolick around with her. Plus she found some cool old graves.

Shortly after our return home, Kim's aunt Cheryl and cousin Beverly came over for a visit, and there were stories. Many, many stories. If I ever need to write blackmail stories about certain folks of my acquaintance, I may have some ammunition.

This evening, the rain came down, but we hauled ourselves out for a couple of drinks at Three Bridges Distillery and Grape Beginnings , another couple of our regular local favorite hangouts. And then... the old homestead TV lounge.
Heading out on the trail at Pine Haven Recreational Area
Damned Rodan's Chicken Piccata over angel hair
Ms. B's new groundhog friend Some of the many ghost pipes Ms. B. photographed

Wednesday, July 24, 2024
Having snagged geocache #15,000, my next goal is claiming 500 caches inMichigan for a challenge cache in Greensboro that requires you to have found atleast 1,000 caches in one state and at least 500 caches in two others. Well, Ihave in excess of 11,000 in North Carolina and over 1,600 in Virginia; Michiganis next in line, since I've worked my way up to almost 500 finds over many tripshere. As of first thing this morning, I needed 12 more to reach 500. So, brightand early this morning, I headed out to the rural back roads of northern MidlandCounty where tons of park & grab caches offer opportunities to increaseone's cache find count with relative ease. Complicating matters, however, arethat they are spread out over many miles and most of them are quite old, so lotsof them have gone missing over the years without being replaced.

Myfirst target was a newly published cache that one other local hunter had sought,but he'd logged a DNF (Did Not Find). He is a highly experienced geocacher, so Ifigured if he couldn't find it, the cache is not there. Regardless, I decided togive it a try. It was a loverly little neighborhood in the middle of nowhere,and I enjoyed visiting the place. However, as I fully expected, I found nothing— well, other than a couple of neighbors who came out of their house and gave mesome looks for which "unwelcoming" is far too kind. I think it's safe to saythey had no idea there was supposedly a cache hidden there. So, Iretreated without a find. However, at the end of the run, I came home with a tenfinds, which left me with only two to qualify for the second state with 500finds.

For our midday dinner, Kimberly made shrimp tacos. Her AuntJeannie (sister of Aunt Cheryl, who visited yesterday) joined us. A pleasantvisit.

After lunch, Kimberly and I went out to Midland City Forest , which has many hiking trails and several caches I haven't yet claimed. We putin about three miles of hiking, the lady seeking interesting fungi tophotograph, while the old dude sought caches. As it turned out, it was Ms. B.who found two of the most difficult caches on our route. A couple of moredisappointing DNFs, but I claimed my two for the challenge — plus one.

Wedecided to stay home with the folks this evening. Tomorrow, Ms. B.'s dad has anearly-morning medical appointment in Ann Arbor, a couple of hours south of here,so she'll be heading out with Del & Fern before sunup.

Me, I'llbe doing laundry tomorrow. One can go through some clothes on these hot summerdays on the geocaching trail. On the trail in Midland City Forest
Anyone lose a brain?

Thursday, July 25, 2024
The folks headed out for Ann Arbor bright and early this morning, so once I was up, about, and sufficiently caffeinated, I set out on foot after a Wherigo cache, which looked interesting because, to find the hidden container, you regularly query the program about its distance from your present position, essentially playing hot & cold. The icon on the map lay near downtown, a couple of miles away, so I figured I should start walking that direction. Off I went, and my queries gradually led me closer until I was less than half a mile away, at which time it became clear I needed to start moving westward.

Fortunately, I've become quite familiar with Midland's roads over the years, so I hardly spent any time moving back and forth to reduce the distance to my target; only when I was within a hundred yards did I need to go in several directions to determine the proper course. But soon I saw what appeared to be the perfect host for a geocache hide, and — yep! — there it was. What a fun journey and a cool cache.

Once back at Casa di Brugger, my health app showed I'd walked almost exactly six miles — hardly more than I put in on my regular daily walks back home. The walking has definitely been good for me, as I've lost fifteen pounds in the past year, and at my most recent physical checkup, back in May, my blood work results were the best I've had in decades. Also, I'm getting into a ton of audiobooks to keep me company while I'm out and about. I've been binging on F. Paul Wilson's Adversary Cycle and Repairman Jack novels, which I've found more engrossing than any series I've gotten into since Roger Zelazny's Amber novels. I'm almost finished with them, but I've got a virtual stack of various audiobooks loaded on my phone to keep me going.
We spent the afternoon taking care of assorted tasks around the house and hanging with the folks. An online friend had recommended an amateur production of H.P. Lovecraft's The Whisperer in Darkness , so I watched it on YouTube. It proved a mixed bag; very faithful to the source material, with effective atmosphere, excellent cinematography, and remarkably cool imagery. It also drew out way too many scenes to ridiculous lengths, to generate suspense, I suppose, but all it did was increase the running time to the point of tedium. Some of the film's shortcomings were so severe I found myself hard-pressed to finish it. But finish it I did, and in the end, I'll admit that I'm glad. The climax was excellent. Where the movie worked, I give it an A+++. Where it didn't, I give it a D–. The good outweighed the bad, but only just.

For dinner, Ms. B. and I went to Fuji Sushi , which is a regular Midland dining destination. A delicious sushi/sashimi combo for me, vegetable yakisoba for Ms. B. Afterward, I set my sights on another nearby Wherigo cache that required navigating by way of hot & cold clues. Since we completed the macro distances in the car, we managed to home in on the cache à pied in relatively short order. Once again, a super fun Wherigo.

For the rest of the evening, it was the usual gathering with folks in the TV lounge. As days go, this one proved far, far better than being slapped in the belly with a wet trout. A couple of youngsters en route to "Midland Is Wherigo"
Friday, July 26, 2024 A beautiful morning at Hiwassee Lake Today, I am slow-cooking a big ol' pork roast to make BBQ for Del & Fern, so as soon as I poured my first cup of coffee, I set about prepping the pig. It'll be cooking in the crock pot for most of the day, and there should be plenty of it left for them to freeze for later.

Over many trips here, I've claimed almost all the geocaches within walking or biking distance of Casa di Brugger, but I did see a puzzle cache on the map not too far away with high difficulty rating. Once I gave it a good look, I realized I could almost certainly solve it, so I gave it a shot. The puzzle involves a geocode system called What3words , which identifies any location on the surface of the earth using three unique words, and then requires projecting a set of coordinates based on those words. The projection I came up with looked promising, so I set out on Del's bike and rode the couple of miles down to Stratford Woods , where the cache is located. Much to my satisfaction, the coordinates turned out to be perfect, and I found the cache immediately. Woohoo!

But blimey, so few left to go after anywhere nearby. I has a sad.

During the afternoon, I drove down to nearby Freeland to grab a handful of caches for my last full day on this Midland trip. Once back, I put the finishing touches on Del & Fern's pork BBQ, which I hope they'll enjoy. Then Ms. B. and I got together with her friend Kim — yes, another one! — and hied ourselves down to Whichcraft for a couple of drinks (for me, dirty martinis made with local gin that I give very high marks). Then... at last!... to Molasses, where I ate what has got to be the best BBQ sandwich I've ever tasted: the Three Amigos sandwich, with chopped brisket, chopped pork, and crispy bacon, accompanied by a variety of sauces. Aggh! Incredible! Who'da thunk that as a BBQ aficionado I'd find such superlative dead critter in Midland, MI?! But truly. Yes. This. Is. It.
From there, we moseyed across the road to Grape Beginnings, where we met Ms. B.'s long-time friend, Darren, and closed the place down. And that was pretty much our finale for this trip. Tomorrow, it's back home — and, fortunately, we don't have to leave at the ass-crack of dawn.

Assuming nothing dire happens to any of us during the next few months, we'll plan to return at some point near year's end. Until then, Midland! The Three Amigos BBQ sandwich at Molasses, with cole slaw and potato salad with fresh dill. Superb!

Books, Brews, and Bashes

I'd like to express my thanks to Traci Morton, owner of Magnolia & Main Books , for hosting what turned out to be an excellent book signing event yesterday.We had a good crowd, and I sold a slew of books — which I gleefully devaluedwith my signature. Magnolia & Main is a charming little store with lots ofbooks, both new and used, plus other assorted goodies. Local folks — please stopin and check it out! And thanks to all who came out for the event, particularlythose who braved a torrential downpour early in the day. I really do appreciateit. Several old friends that I haven't seen in ages popped in, which meant a lotto me.

Magnolia & Main is located at810 Main Street, Ridgeway, VA 24148.
After the event, friends Terry, Beth, Bob, and Yvonne all headed withBrugger and me over to Renewal Brewing in Uptown Martinsville for a variety of refreshing beverages. We had earlierdetermined we should all have dinner together, and as we were debating asuitable destination, Bob & Yvonne up and invited us to their place. So, weparaded over to their house and enjoyed an incredible dinner, plus good drinks,and lots of good music and other entertainment. It would have difficult to askfor a better day. Well, that big old rainstorm during the morning damn neardrowned us, but at least we all survived.

Except maybe Ms. B. there.She's looking a little rough after diving into The Monarchs . I worry for her soul.

Upcoming events where you may find meraising hell and wreaking havoc include NecronomiCon , Providence, RI (August 15–18, 2024); MHC Is for Book Lovers , Spencer, VA (September 20, 2024); and Martinsville Oktoberfest , Martinsville, VA (October 5, 2024).

Mis-Inflammation

Long post warning. I will preface it by stating that, in the wake of the assassination attempt on Donald Trump, in no way am I condoning or excusing violence. This was a heinous act that can't possibly bear good fruit; quite the opposite, in fact. This is evident in subsequent — and understandable — anger about the act. However, the resultant vitriolic blame for the mounting circumstances, both before and after the shooting, strikes me as, in many cases misdirected. I am not talking about conspiracy theories. I will elaborate. No, I'm not out to lose friends or insult people who don't necessarily think as I do; quite the opposite. But I calls 'em as I sees 'em, and if you're inclined to write me off, then that is entirely your prerogative

Here, I am not focusing on anything other than language and its ramifications in this emotionally charged climate and very little else. Not the fitness, or lack thereof, of either candidate; not the merits, or lack thereof, of their respective platforms; specifically, the power of language and general expression. While no single side is entirely blameless for fiery rhetoric, the vehement, exclusive blaming of the left for its "hateful speech" and "inflammatory name-calling" by such a vast segment of the right shows an amazing lack of critical thinking and self-awareness. It's selective memory to the point of willful blindness.

I invite you to think back to the pre-Trump days, when pejorative epithets like "libtard" and "snowflake" became standard speech for conservatives, and one didn't have to occupy an extreme left position to find oneself painted with this brush. Then "Socialist!" became the all-encompassing catch word that applied to anyone with views a half-inch left of Ronald Reagan. Then "Communists" and "Marxists" who "HATE AMERICA!" slid into widespread usage, goaded by Fox News and its ilk, never mind that the vast majority of those using those terms clearly have no earthly idea of their actual meaning — and that little could be farther from the truth. Stoking fear increases ratings, and no one does that better than the right-wing media. (Yeah, I've watched more than plenty of it, thank you.)

No, I am not an extreme leftist; the only "extreme" thing I qualify to be is a horror writer. Still, as a proponent of women's rights and absolutely of the conviction that a woman (and her physician) should have more say over what happens to her own body than the government, particularly in cases where her life or health might be in jeopardy, in some circles I've been painted as a radical leftist, never mind that a healthy majority of Americans share this belief. Really? I consider this view simple common sense, as I believe most reasonably intelligent members of the species do. Or should, if they have the temerity to call themselves "pro-life."

So, enter Trump, who immediately set about raising the bar to unprecedented levels for fiery, vitriolic, even hateful rhetoric. Trump has used — and continues to use — derogatory, accusatory language to demonize and dehumanize those who oppose his views. None of this can by any stretch of the imagination be attributed to incomplete or erroneous context or, in the right's favorite terms, "liberal media brainwashing." The man's words and actions are easily verifiable and have been right out there for the world to see and hear unfiltered.

A few from rallies, where protestors were present: "Maybe he should have been roughed up."—November 2015. "I'd like to punch him in the face."—February 2016. "Knock the crap out of him, would you? I promise you, I will pay your legal fees."—February 2016. "You know, part of the problem is nobody wants to hurt each other anymore, right? They're being politically correct the way they take them out, so it takes a little bit longer."—March 2016. "If you do hurt him, I'll defend you in court, don't worry about it."—March 2016.

I was flabbergasted when Trump attacked Senator John McCain, whose politics I vehemently disagreed with but whom I respected as a person, particularly for his endurance as a PoW in service to the United States. “He’s not a war hero,” Trump said. “He was a war hero because he was captured. I like people who weren’t captured."

Whatever one might think of Hillary Clinton, was it appropriate for Trump to suggest, jokingly or otherwise, that the "Second Amendment people might take care of her court appointments" should she have won? If that was okay, then surely, so was Biden saying Trump needed to be in the crosshairs (which he actually apologized for in the wake of the shooting). Speaking of Clinton, I recall the debate with her in 2016 when Trump crept and paced around the stage behind Clinton like some kind of unhinged stalker. I think it was then and there that I knew that in no sane world could this man be a realistic candidate for the highest office in the land.

Yet, here we are in 2024.

Who can forget the lovely sentiment of all too many of Trump's followers, in reference to folks decrying the sheer, unbridled venom of Trump's tweets over the term of his presidency and beyond: "Fuck your feelings!"

Lately, all I have to is do go out and about town to see "Let's go, Brandon!" and "Fuck Biden — and fuck you for voting for him!" in yards and on bumper stickers. Do you see this as enthusiastic support for Trump or the Republican party? Me, I see it as unbridled hate, facilitated by a figure whose contempt for civil conventions long ago went out the window.

It's all such sincere Christian stuff, I must say. I mean, much if not most of this vitriol shares its space with signs reading "God Bless America!" and "Christian Patriots Live Here!" and "God, Guns, and Trump!" Let me tell you, I grew up in the church, remained active in one congregation or another well into adulthood, and studied the Bible both in church and on my own. I can safely that I have forgotten more of the tenets of Christianity than many of these folks have ever known in their lives.

Now we have the words of the Heritage Foundation's Kevin Roberts, in reference to Project 2025, the guidebook for a conservative government if/when Trump is elected: “The Second American Revolution will remain bloodless if the Left allows it to be.” Wow. Do you see this as anything other than a less-than-cryptic threat that it's their way or the bloody way? Is this an okay thing in our America? America is supposed to be, after all, yours, mine, and ours — not just YOUR America.

Wisely, both Biden and Trump, since the shooting, have called for Americans of all persuasions to tone down the rhetoric. I have no doubt that Biden is sincere. I would love to think that Trump is every bit as sincere. Truly I do. It's not bemusing at all that the Republican convention's theme is now "National Unity" and the first speaker up and called the left a "clear and present danger" to the country. Not too hypocritical, eh? I will categorically state that he is wrong. One-hundred percent wrong.

I have not written all this without full realization that people have their reasons for being angry and for acting out against that which angers them. I certainly do. But if we dehumanize and demonize everyone whose views, whose lifestyles, feel diametrically opposed to our own, we cannot respect each other. And without respect, we are pretty well doomed. Because this country truly is that proverbial melting pot, and the diverse views and people are not going anywhere. Unless we succumb to the unthinkable and begin to shed the blood of our fellow Americans.

If you don't agree with a word I've said here, I'm sorry for that, but I have to live with my conscience and my convictions. It's the former that shapes the latter. I do my best to be fair to all, and it is with that in mind that I feel absolutely compelled to illustrate how so many of us, as Americans, have too readily succumbed to anger and hatred — God knows, my temper has been running high lately — and it's anything but confined to the left. So, if my tone seems snarky, it's born of frustration with such widespread willful blindness, disrespect, and outright lies.

There's a lot — a fucking lot — more I could carry on with above and beyond how we interact with each other. But that's for another day.

A Helluva Weekend

Given the dearth of nearby geocaches I've yet to find, it's always a treat tosee new ones published that aren't that far away. A trio of new caches popped upon my map Friday — out in Floyd County, about an hour northwest of here. Since Icouldn't get out there at the time, I got up early on Saturday morning, grabbedcoffee and a danish at the nearby Valero Fas-Mart (their coffee does rock), and sallied forth onto the shadowy backroads. Long ago(the 1970s) and far away (about 20 miles), I attended Ferrum College , and I frequented these backroads, usually seeking the influence of what somemight consider illicit substances. There was a commune called Travianas in thisarea that I used to visit frequently, and I read not all that long ago was stillin existence. I don't remember exactly how we used to get there, but I waspretty close to the location, though.

My destination was a placecalled Riverstone Farm , a gorgeous place in the middle of nowhere, more or less, with a little storewhere you can buy their fresh produce, and it's all on the honor system. Youweigh your produce, fill out your own sales slip, and drop your money in a slot.I picked up a couple of fabulous fresh tomatoes, which weighed over a pound, for$5. And I got first-to-find honors on all three of the new caches, each of whichwas nicely done. I so appreciate geocaches that lead me to such splendidlocations that I would surely never have discovered otherwise.

On myway home, I stopped for lunch at the Railway Café in Bassett. A delicious fried chicken sandwich and a much-neededcold iced tea. Damn, it was hot out there.
The Riverstone Farm produce store
Trail along the Little River
A purty trail view
Last night, we saw the news of Donald Trump getting winged by a shooter. I've seen all sorts of conspiracy theories, lots of anger, and all too much true hate, enough to be totally overwhelming. I have a lot of things I can say on this issue, but not here and now. A bit later, I will.

This morning, again I rose early, grabbed coffee and a danish at the nearby Valero Fas-Mart, and hauled myself down to Burlington, NC, where I met friend Scott (a.k.a. Diefenbaker) for a day of caching in Hillsborough. As it has been lately, it was hot out there. Fuckin' hot. We both added quite a few to our total number of finds, including a bunch along the Eno Riverwalk . Another gorgeous location I enjoy visiting, and — as we usually do when in the area — we grabbed lunch at Hillsborough BBQ Company . Smoked chicken wings for me today, and damned good.

My favorite find of the day was probably the very photogenic black rat snake we ran across at Blackwood Farm Park .

I've no idea what level of madness our country and the world will reach this week, but I've no doubt it'll set a new fucking record.
A nice black rat snake we happened upon
Train trestle over the Eno River, viewed from the Riverwalk
Another view of the Eno

"And All My Days Are Trances..."

To quote Edgar Allan Poe: "And all my days are trances, and all my nightlydreams are where thy dark eye glances, and where thy footstep gleams..." Noother quote could better apply to David Niall Wilson's collection, The Devil's in the Flaws (Macabre Ink, 2023).

I've reada lot of Wilson's work over the years, and I published several of hisstories in Deathrealm magazine back in the day — not to mention one of his more recent tales in myanthology, Deathrealm: Spirits (Shortwave Publishing, 2023). From the first of his stories that I read, back inthe 1980s, I credited him as an accomplished stylist.

The Devil's in the Flaws proves that his style has aged like a fine wine (although I know the author ispartial to bourbon). His prose is elegant, lyrical, masterful. While hehas penned stories and novels in various subcategories of speculative fiction —horror, fantasy (everything from urban to sword & sorcery), science fiction,and thriller — the twenty short tales and one novella in this collection areprimarily of a quiet, contemplative, introverted sort, more akin to the work ofShirley Jackson, Henry James, and perhaps Caitlin Kiernan than Stephen King orPaul Tremblay or Bridgette Nelson or any number of contemporary "horrific"voices. There is a wee bit of Lovecraftian influence for good measure.

Author/editorRichard Chizmar, who provided the foreword, wrote that, having beencaptivated by the work, he devoured The Devil's in the Flaws in asingle sitting. I read the first few tales from the hardback edition of thisbook, but I absorbed most of it by way of the audiobook, read by theincomparable Joshua Saxon, whose polished, expert delivery could hardlyhave been more perfect for this collection's overall tone.

Now, many,if not most, of these stories are contemplative, dreamlike, trance-like,eschewing kinetic character conflict and/or action in the customary sense. Manyof the tales focus on a single character's point of view and brim with vividdescriptions of physical or emotional stimuli, particularly those triggered bymusic or intoxicating compounds — or both — perhaps most notably in the story"Milk of Paradise." Traumatic memories often play a driving role. Of the shorttales, "Little Ghosts," "Interred," and "Fear of Flying" are the standouts forme, with truly haunting imagery and vivid, sensual prose. "Wayne's World,"dedicated to our mutual friend and fellow author, Wayne Allen Sallee, offers apowerful perspective on serial killer John Wayne Gacy, with whom Sallee onceshared some correspondence. I suspect Wilson's take on Gacy's horrific soulmight bring a big smile to Mr. Sallee's face.

For me, the crowningwork in this volume is the title novella. Here, Wilson's style shines. Thewell-drawn characters, snappy dialogue, sense of otherworldly mystery, and analmost Lovecraftian menace — combined with a smidgen of whimsy — makethis one of my favorite works by David Niall Wilson. Not that I could have everpublished a piece this long in Deathrealm , but the novella is, at its heart, the consummate Deathrealm story. It is, as they say, worth the full price ofadmission.

The Devil's in the Flaws as a collectionstrikes me, at times, as too internalized, surreal, and trance-like, andI wonder if re-ordering some of the tales might bring a more balanced ebb andflow to the pacing. Regardless, the title story as the collection's finale packssuch a lovely wallop that, whatever the sequencing of the other tales, it willleave you staggered — in the best possible sense.

Four out of five Damned Rodan's Dirty Firetinis . The Devil's in the Flaws by
David Niall Wilson at Amazon.com

Of Men and Monsters

Camp Necon , which was my most-anticipated horror convention back in the1980s and 90s, is still going strong these days. For many years, circumstancesfrowned on me returning, but a couple of years back, Brugger and I went forth toLowell, MA, and — apart from some transportation woes — enjoyed ourselves agrand Necon experience. This year, it's July 19–22, in Manchester, New Hampshire, and wewere hoping to go, but Ms. B.'s loss of her job put the kibosh on that plan.

Alittle while back, horror aficionado, publisher, bookstore owner, and longtimefriend, Dave Hinchberger, gave me a shout and said he and his wife,LeeAnn, were going to Necon — driving fromAtlanta, no less — and wondered whether we might like to get together sincethey'd be passing close by us on their trip. Well, hell, yeah! It's been agessince I've seen Dave. As proprietor of The Overlook Connection , he has always been an invaluable proponent of small press publishers, andback in the days of Deathrealm magazine, he went many extra milesto help me keep it a viable, high-profile publication.

Dave andLeeAnn left Atlanta yesterday, with several stops planned along their tripnorthward, including visits with mutual friends Elizabeth Massie &Cortney Skinner in Waynesboro, Virginia, and Chet &Laurie Williamson in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. They calculated their arrival inMartinsville would be around dinnertime, so we decided to meet at the Dutch Inn Restaurant in nearby Collinsville. Back in the days of yore, that restaurant one of thepreeminent dining establishments in the area, but it closed down during theheight of COVID-19, and it never reopened. However, the Inn is under newmanagement, and the restaurant has finally opened its doors for business again.We enjoyed our dinners — I had a burger about the size of North America — andthen we returned to Casa di Rodan for some drinks and the shooting of shit. Andlet me tell you, there was some shit to be shot. Stories about countless conexperiences; fun gatherings with wacky mutual friends; favorite books, stories,and writers; Stephen King anecdotes; and lord knows what all.

TheHinchbergers had to get back to their lodgings in Greensboro before theirbedtimes, but let me tell you, our evening ran pretty late. Absolutely adelightful time, but it only made me wish all the more that Ms. B. and I wouldbe heading to Necon this year. Maybe... maybe if the stars align... nextyear.

Thanks, Dave and LeeAnn, for your thoughtfulness, and we lookforward to getting together again, hopefully not such a long passage of time asthe last!
That's some funny shit, lady!
Okay, yeah, so they look nice and all, but who knows what evil lurks...
Our Motley Crue

Ghost Ship

I had a hell of an adventure this morning at a new geocache called "Ghost Ship" at Smith Mountain Lake... though, sadly, I never found the cache. It's rated 4 out of 5 difficulty, so I knew it was gonna be a tough hunt.

The morning started out with a big ol' black bear running across the road in front of me. I guess I'm glad I didn't see it again after that, for it was not at all of meager girth.

Getting to where the cache is supposed to be hidden (the boat's ghostly interior) required some acrobatic feats, and I think it's safe to say I've rarely ever partied with so many — thankfully lethargic — wasps in such a confined space.

After over an hour of intense searching in there, the blazing sun began to turn the Ghost Ship into a Ghost Oven, and I finally vacated the premises before I became a Ghost Geocacher. I think I can count on one hand — maybe even one finger — the number of times have I emerged from a cache hunt so sweaty and filthy dirty.

Had I found this cache, I would have awarded it a favorite point for the exciting morning adventure, but since I didn't... I can't. Alas!

Next time...  I did find a couple of other caches up that way to make the trip worthwhile, and on the way home, I had lunch at The Checkered Pig , one of our local BBQ joints. It topped off what turned out to be a very fun outing, despite bombing out at my primary target. A target-rich environment!
Glad I brought my flashlight.
Forward view

L: The reason it's called "Ghost Ship?" R: Hot, filthy-dirty, sweaty, half-dead old dude

The Project 2025 Monster

Sometimes, I need to get on my soapbox about something other than books, movies, geocaching, travel, and cooking. So...

In the words of the Heritage Foundation's leader, Kevin Roberts, Project 2025 is a guidebook for a second American revolution, which will be bloodless only if "the left allows it to be."

I've spent a great deal of time perusing the document, and it really is a monster, which uses a lot of bland terminology for extreme (and I mean extreme) right-wing policies. These are ostensibly its aims:

1.  Restore the family as the centerpiece of American life and protect our children.
2.  Dismantle the administrative state and return self-governance to the American people.
3.  Defend our nation’s sovereignty, borders, and bounty against global threats.
4.  Secure our God-given individual rights to live freely—what our Constitution calls “the Blessings of Liberty.”

So, is Kevin Roberts' statement hyperbole? I would say no. I absolutely take it at face value.
It's not an exaggeration to say that, in my view, once you begin looking at the details, it is as close to a fascist treatise as any guidebook could be. Whatever you take "wokeness" to be, this is the declaration of war against it (and what the right calls "woke" has been so perverted from its original connotation that it's unrecognizable; to the extreme right, "woke" basically means any attitude, policy, or program that helps more people than it harms). If you truly value your personal freedoms, a healthy environment, a healthcare system that isn't in absolute disarray (if you think it is now, just wait), and an economy that's not going to crash for everyone but the super-wealthy, educate yourself about this extreme viewpoint accordingly. Believe me, it affects everyone, right, left, or wherever you stand.

Here's a fairly balanced summary from The Hill : https://thehill.com/homenews/campaign/4753684-heritage-foundation-project-2025/

Here is a view from that left-wing champion Forbes :  https://www.forbes.com/sites/jeffraikes/2024/07/01/project-2025-is-a-blueprint-for-business-disaster/

Here is the document itself (a gut-wrenching 900+ pages): https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/24088042-project-2025s-mandate-for-leadership-the-conservative-promise