Author: Derek

2021 Goals

January 6, 2021 / / 1 Comment

I was kinda middling on my 2020 Goals. I did manage to keep up on the blog writing. The other writing – well, I wasn’t so successful. I got my Level 3 in Toastmasters, but then we had to quit. I don’t know when we will return to our club at this point – particularly with The Wife’s new position.

My weight? It’s been pretty bad since COVID hit. I don’t think I’ve been below 210 since March – and I’ve brushed the 230 mark. When I can’t fit into my work pants – that’s fucking bad. It isn’t helped by the fact that I’m on permanent telework.

This year is going to be dominated by The Big Move into our new house. Just the hassle of moving is going to be fun enough, but I know myself. I am a creature of habits and routines. The new house is going to require entirely new routines, and it’s going to take some time to iron them out. One of the odd things about the new place is that there isn’t a mailbox in front of the house. I need to walk about a block to get to where everyone’s mailboxes are grouped.

So, here are my 2021 goals.

  1. Weight – Get back down to goal of 200.

  2. Writing – Finish the fantasy novel

  3. Writing – Finish the third Irregulars story

  4. Blog – Keep up the four posts a week schedule

  5. Exercise – Use the eliptical at least one hour a day for at least six days of the week, and at least one hour a day while my weight is above 205.

  6. Exercise – Walk to the mailboxes after we move unless life-hazarding weather

  7. Professional Development – Improve skills with Power BI to improve my reports.

Monday Fiction – Zombie Strike – Part 6 – Chapter 52

January 4, 2021 / / 1 Comment

Skull Island, South Pacific, 25 July 2010, 0800 Hours Local: Countdown: 1 Year, 3 months, 6 days

Slim Thomas froze as he felt the slight thrumming. His fist halted Quentin and the soldiers. His eyes scanned the immediate area. The hedge-lined pathway was a straight line for about another five meters before taking a sharp right. On the other side of the right hedge was a cul-de-sac. Slim guessed the minion was hiding there.

An odd shape in the grass caught his attention. It looked like a coin. In fact it looked like a British pound coin. Slim motioned for Quentin and Chief Stahl to move up. As they joined Slim, he pointed at the coin with his weapon. Quentin frowned, but the chief just nodded. Slim popped open his bracer and waved the two men over to read his PDA.

Target behind right hedge. Suggestions? Slim tapped out on his PDA. Chief Stahl pointed to two of his soldiers. Convoluted hand signals flashed from between the chief warrant and the soldiers. The two soldiers slung their M4’s and unstrapped unfamiliar weapons from their backs. They looked like bullpup submachine guns. The two soldiers backed up to the left hedge and aimed their weapons skyward. They braced, clearly waiting for the chief’s signal. Slim felt the thrumming speed up an instant before the fireball erupted from the hedge. Slim turned away from the flash of heat and brilliant flame. Screams of pain and terror filled the air. Slim looked back to see a burnt hole where the two soldiers were standing. Another two soldiers were screaming as they grasped at flesh that looked like melted wax. Slim swallowed the sudden urge to vomit.

The minion dropped into their midst. Slim saw the blue flame flicker in his hand. Instinctively, he snapped off the shot. The minion let out a yelp of pain as the lighter was torn out of his hand. Seeing an opening in the minion’s shield, Quentin and Chief Stahl opened fire. The bullets stopped in mid-air as they hit the minion’s shield. Slim really hated smart minions, especially smart and fast minions.

"All of you are getting too good," the minion snarled in anger. The minion flicked his wrist. The coin sailed over them and landed lightly in the minion’s hand. He almost looked disappointed as he stared briefly at the coin. Like it failed to fulfill its destiny. Chief Stahl snapped off another burst. The minion glared indignantly at the chief warrant as the bullets smacked harmlessly against the shield. The minion raised his hand menacingly at Chief Stahl. The soldier unflinchingly kept his M4 trained on the minion. Then, the unit’s machine gun opened up. The burst of gunfire caught the minion by surprise. The bullets stopped a good yard from the minion, but the strain was evident. The minion focused intensely on the gunner. Slim and Quentin opened up with their weapons. The minion’s head snapped towards them as their bullets started impacting the shield. Screaming in frustration, the minion backed up through the still burning hole into the cul-de-sac.

Slim, Quentin and the SAW gunner poured fire into the cul-de-sac. The hedge dissolved as round after round tore through it. The chief fired a couple of bursts, but stopped. He plucked a grenade from his web gear. Chief Stahl pulled the pin, released the spoon, and held the grenade in his hand. His mouthed the numbers as he counted off. On three, the grenade sailed over the hedge. The four men dropped to the ground. Slim felt the grenade explode, but the sound was muted. Chief Stahl was up and moving to the hole in the hedge. Slim leapt up and followed the soldier, but stopped as the chief just stood at the opening. Slim walked up next to Chief Stahl. The minion was on the ground, bleeding from a dozen ragged holes. He writhed in pain, but stopped as he caught sight of Slim and Chief Stahl standing at the edge of the invisible barrier. The minion let out a wet sounding laugh. Slim felt an uncomfortable chill run down his spine. If Chief Stahl felt anything, he didn’t show it.

"By the flayed one himself, I didn’t expect that," the minion croaked. He spat a mouthful of blood. His eyes bore into Stahl while a sincere smile spread across his face. "How did you figure it out?"

"Your little coin didn’t come straight to you," Stahl said flatly, "Flew up over the barrier."

"Well, why don’t you jump over my little shield and come get me?" the minion taunted.

"I saw what you did to the Predator," Stahl said, "We’ll just wait ’til you lose consciousness from blood loss, and then come get you. You killed two of my men, and seriously hurt another couple. I can be patient. It’s going to be amusing to watch as you spill your guts to our intel people." Stahl’s flat tone shifted into a controlled rage.

"Long wait soldier boy," the minion said, "I am gifted with the Flayed One’s own power. These wounds will heal up before I’m in any danger. Then I’ll finish you off."

"I think you’re bluffing," Chief Stahl replied.

"Ask the hunter standing next to you. They’ve seen what the Champions of Truth can do. And I’m not one of the weak ones." Stahl frowned and yanked Slim out of the minion’s sight. The minion laughed as the two men walked away.

"He’s not bluffing," Slim said.

"I know," Stahl said, walking over to the SAW gunner. "Evacuate Dwayne and Bill. We can use that hole." Stahl pointed to the smoking hole where his two soldiers had been killed.

"Already took care of it," the soldier replied. As if on cue, an MRAP backed up to the hole. Soldiers spilled out of the armored vehicle and swarmed over the two burned soldiers. Satisfied his soldiers were being cared for, Stahl knelt down. For a moment, Slim thought the soldier was praying. Then, he saw the chief was burying something.

"Slim, you and Quentin may want to get in the truck," Stahl said, motioning to the MRAP.

"I thought we were going to wait for his shield to drop so that we could capture him," Slim said, his eyebrow arching.

"I’m not that stupid. That one’s too powerful," Stahl said quietly. "As soon as we’re clear, that one’s going to get a taste of eight inch artillery. See him try and shoot those shells out of the sky." Slim nodded reluctantly and followed his teammate into the armored truck. The vehicle roared out of the maze. Mere seconds later, Slim heard the distant thunder. Moments later, he watched as the maze was obliterated as the artillery shells rained down.

Washington DC, 26 July 2010, 2345 Hours Local: Countdown: 1 Year, 3 months, 5 days

Mateo Cortez froze in shock at seeing Collin DuBois’ dirty face. The sudden surge of emotions flooded him, and he couldn’t fight it. It was just too much. Then, his rage cut through the internal storm. Collin wasn’t his friend and trusted mentor. Mateo jerked the carbine up. Collin needed to die for his betrayal. Collin saw the shift in Mateo’s eyes and was already moving before Mateo started to raise his weapon. Collin wrenched the carbine out Mateo’s hands. It clattered to the floor as Collin slid behind Mateo. In a few blindingly fast moves, Collin restrained his former team leader. Mateo struggled, but quickly recognized the hold. He wasn’t going to break it, and trying was just going to end up with Mateo dislocating his shoulder again.

The room was suddenly bathed in the brilliant white light of several weapon-mounted flashlights. Collin stepped back and crouched behind Mateo. Agent Tredegar stood in the center of a half-dozen of SWAT agents. Tredegar was bleeding from several places, but he didn’t seem to notice. He kept his pistol at the low ready.

"Collin DuBois, I am Special Agent Tredegar," the FBI agent shouted, "We have you surrounded. Surrender now and we can help you."

"Don’t bloody think so, mate," Collin shot back, "Only Mattie here can help me. Why don’t you bugger off so we can get to work?"

"I’m going to kill you," Mateo seethed. He managed to crane his head around to glimpse Collin.

"Mattie, it’s not what you think, but I can’t talk with the FBI about," Collin replied under his breath. Mateo sensed Collin was telling him the truth, and part of him wanted to believe Collin. Then the image of Mercedes in the hospital flashed through his mind. The cold rage swept away any remnants of compassion.

"Listen, Collin, we want to stop the Truth as much as you do," Tredegar said, his commanding tone melting into an understanding one. Tredegar lowered his pistol. "You wouldn’t have sent Mateo that recording if you weren’t trying to stop the Truth. Let us help you."

"Listen mate, I’ve read the manual too. I was doing the hostage rescue thing when you were just figuring out that girls smelled nice. We both know what’s going to happen once I let you take me. We don’t have time for that." Mateo looked at Tredegar. He could tell Tredegar believed Collin. Tredegar was weakening as his need to stop the Truth clashed with his need to bring in Collin. Mateo made his decision. The hold Collin had Mateo in was unbreakable. Unless you were willing to go through a lot of pain. Mateo took a deep breath. Collin realized what was happening an instant too late. The familiar pain shot through Mateo as he wrenched out of Collin’s grip. He felt his shoulder pop as he fell to the floor. Collin released him just before he did some permanent damage.

The FBI agents dog piled Collin. None were willing to take the slightest chance with someone they knew to be extremely dangerous. Mateo met Collin’s eyes as more people swarmed into the house. The look of understanding and sorrow bothered Mateo. He didn’t know why. As the FBI led the manacled Collin out of the house, Mateo dreaded he’d made the wrong choice.

Zombie Strike Part 6 Chapter 53

Good bye 2020

December 31, 2020 / / 1 Comment

This year has been a roller-coaster for the Ward household. I won’t rehash the crazy politics or the plague. Everyone’s been dealing with that – and many people have had a much harder time than The Wife and I had. A lot of that was good planning, but there was also a lot of just luck.

For us, the roller coaster really started in March, but not for the reason that you might think. In March, we sold my Tampa house. The negotiations started back in December, but we finally closed at the beginning of March. Yay, we freed up a bunch of cash! Plus we got some cash influxes from the sale. Some of that was used to buy two new handguns (a Ruger SR1911 Commander and a Steyr L9A1). Some of that was used to buy The Wife a Cricut Maker. Some of that was used to pay down our debts. A good deal was needed when the world went insane with COVID. Both The Wife and I were thrown into full time telework. We used some of the funds to upgrade the home office, since we would both be using it. MArch was also the month we pulled the plug on our planned trip to go out west so that The Wife and I could meet each other’s family out that way.

April and May went by in the blink of an eye as The Wife and I adjusted to our new routines. My prepper instincts meant we were never in danger of being out of toilet paper or other essentials. In fact, we were able to spare some to one of our neighbors. That’s the nice thing about prepping. You can help those in need. Our Toastmasters club transitioned to Zoom.

Then came June. The Wife was talking with one of her friends, and it came up that the friend’s daughter was looking for a car. When the friend mentioned the daughter was looking for something like a Hyundai Elantra, The Wife joked that she could sell the daughter hers. Yeah, it turned out to be not so much a joke, and we ended up selling the car. There was some discussion if we could be a one-car family, but her job was talking about bringing people back in July. Which we could technically do, but there was the unknown as to what my job would do. So, we started looking for a new vehicle. Or more to the point, we started looking for a new-to-us vehicle. I convinced The Wife to forgo a brand-new vehicle and at least see what we could get in the used market. She converted when she realized that for the cost of a bare-bones new SUV, she could get a fully-loaded three-year-old SUV. She loves her “new” vehicle.

July was a month of cancellations as we were forced to cancel our birthday plans, and our anniversary plans. The Wife’s job pushed back her return to the office. There was also a shake-up at her job and at the vet office we used. In the writing world, we would say that July was a month of foreshadowing.

August started the roller coaster into a series of ups and downs in very rapid succession. It started on a high note with my brother-in-law getting married. Due to COVID, it was a small ceremony, and many of the attendants were there virtually. Also, The Wife got dragged in as the officiant because the initial officiant backed out citing plague concerns. Still, a very high note for what had already been a kind of fucked up year. Then the down. We finally got fed up with our vet practice and transferred care to a new place where one of our favorite vet techs started working. Over the next six weeks, the mother-in-law lost two cats and we lost our two oldest cats. Some of it was just that they were old cats, but there were some issues that our previous vet practice missed completely. There was a high point among all this loss. At the end of August, we welcomed my new niece (technically great niece) to the world.

Now we turn to September. The Wife and I bought a new house. Well, technically we bought a house that was being built. We’d been looking since before the Tampa house sold back in March. We found a house in Bradenton that we both liked, but we wouldn’t be able to move/purchase until spring of 2021. Plus, the house was over a hundred years old (built in 1911!), and we had some concerns. Then we went into one of the new developments springing up in our area. One of the models just spoke to us. We talked it over, and signed the contract for a new place that will complete in spring of 2021. The high point was when we maxed the options, looked at our budget, and realized we could afford it. Unfortunately, with the sudden need to stockpile cash, we made the hard decision to not renew our Toastmasters membership. That was a difficult decision.

October we finished the refi on our current place. The plan is to rent this place to the brother-in-law and his wife, so we wanted a lower payment and consolidate the first and second mortgages. This turned out to be of more import as the refi also smoothed over a hiccup with the approval process for the mortgage for the new house. Yeah, that was a fun phone call with us flipping through refinance mortgage documents to verify details. By the end of October, everything was seemingly smooth.

First week of November. Everyone was focused on the election. The Wife and I had something else to focus on. She was informed that her position was eliminated. The shakeup that began in July had claimed her position, and that of her entire section. No chance to go to another department in the company, just you are out on the street after twenty years of service. Make an appointment to come get your stuff from your desk. Yeah, and we had a call with the mortgage company for the new house a half-hour after that call. So, November was a month of sending out applications, resumes, going on interviews, and hoping that we wouldn’t have to walk away from the new house. The day before Thanksgiving, The Wife received an offer. It was a pay cut, but not as bad as we hoped. Plus there were some fringe benefits.

December had The Wife going back to the office. Except it was her new office. She has a commute about as long as I did before they sent us out on telework. After seven months of having her in the home office, it was odd to be the only one home all day. Plus, with her new commute, I’m having to do all the afternoon chores. All sorts of changes.

I won’t say that 2020 was the worst year for the Ward family. Too many good things happened. I will say that I’m hoping 2021 won’t be as full of changes. If the move is the only big change next year, I’ll take it.

Buying Your Speech for $2K

December 30, 2020 / / 0 Comments

According to Reason, Senator Mitch McConnell is willing to go along with $2,000 checks for everyone – as long as he can backdoor changes to Section 230.

Section 230 has taken a lot of heat from both sides of the aisle. The left thinks it allows the amplification of hate speech, while the right asserts it allows “Big Tech” to silence them. They’re both wrong. Section 230 simply doesn’t hold websites liable for comments made on them by other parties. Removing the Section 230 protections will dampen free speech on the internet. It will silence radicals on both sides. I doubt even cat pictures will be safe.

Monday Fiction – Zombie Strike – Part 6 – Chapter 51

December 28, 2020 / / 1 Comment

Skull Island, South Pacific, 25 July 2010, 0700 Hours Local: Countdown: 1 Year, 3 months, 6 days

Slim Thomas felt his body shaking apart. Waves of thunder reverberated through him. He barely remembered to clamp his hands over his ears and open his mouth. The pulsing force continued to hammer his body for what seemed like an hour. Then, it stopped, and Slim felt hands grab him. Slim lashed out with kicks and punches as he searched frantically for his weapons. His eyes couldn’t focus on the dark blobs standing over him. Slim aimed a snap kick at one of the blobs and realized he was on the ground. When did that happen? Then he started hearing voices. Tinny, echoing voices. Human voices.

"Stop fighting," said a voice Slim could finally make out. The voice sounded gruff, but compassionate. To be honest, Slim could have been imagining it. His hearing was coming back slowly. Hands helped him to his feet. His vision focused on the unmistakable sight of American troops surrounding him. Sudden panic hit Slim as he remembered the wall of armored zombies. Then he looked into the maze. Pieces of zombies were scattered around in a blanket of gray flesh and bone. Slim couldn’t even distinguish the zombies that had been wearing the bomb suits.

"Yeah, the captain says sorry about that," said the soldier holding him up. "The Strykers cut it a bit close with the Bushmasters." More soldiers were mopping up the few zombies that survived the onslaught of heavy chain gun fire. The high-pitched pop of an M4 signaled another crawler put down. Distant thunder rumbled across the horizon. It was only until the heavy chattering of an autocannon Slim realized the thunder was artillery.

Slim knew he was still out of sorts, but the minion was still out there. As much as he hated to depend on the drugs built into his med system, he knew he didn’t have much choice at this point. Slim opened his PDA and triggered a battle cocktail. Slim felt as the pain killers and stimulants hit his system. His hearing was still tinny, but the vertigo and weakness vanished. Slim gave the soldier a quick once over. Slim couldn’t decipher the chevrons, but from the number of them, Slim figured the soldier was probably a senior sergeant. The familiar horned skull patch of the US Army’s anti-zombie Task Force 11 seemed to grin at Slim. He looked past the sergeant to look at his two teammates. Sport was already strapped to a stretcher. Quentin had the same disoriented but ready to fight look Slim suspected was on his own face.

"Sergeant?" Slim ventured, guessing at the man’s rank.

"Daniels, sir," the soldier supplied, nodding his head, "Alpha Company, Stryker battalion."

"Okay," Slim said, not sure what a Stryker battalion was, "Where is the minion? Do your men have him acquired yet?" Sergeant Daniel’s face went pale. That wasn’t a good sign.

"We were told that your team dealt with the minion in charge of this outbreak," Daniels said, clearly terrified with the prospect of dealing with a minion. Slim couldn’t blame him. He didn’t want to go another round with that one either.

"We handled the junior one, but the senior minion was responsible for this ambush here," Slim answered. Slim caught Quentin’s eye and motioned the other zombie hunter over. He needed the big man’s expertise.

"What’s up?" Quentin asked. He took one look at the soldier’s fearful expression and guessed. "Other minion’s still out there."

"Too right," Slim answered, "I don’t fancy leaving him about to wreak mischief."

"You must be feeling better," Quentin commented, "You’re talking Brit again." Slim ignored the big man’s jibe.

"Sergeant Daniels, my compliments to your officers, but I will need you and your men to accompany us as we endeavor to ferret out the minion." Daniels cocked his head, clearly not understanding the order. Bloody colonials.

"He means you need to call your boss and let him know that Slim and I are borrowing your people to hunt down the minion," explained Quentin. Daniels nodded slowly with dawning understanding.

"Not necessary, Mr. McLintock," said another voice. The three men turned to see another group of soldiers hop the entrance to the maze. The leader returned Daniel’s sudden salute. Must be an officer, but Slim couldn’t decipher the four squares on the rank insignia. He made a mental note to study American ranks. The leader continued to speak.

"Sergeant, continue mopping up here, and then report back to your company," the man ordered. He turned to Quentin and Slim. "Gentlemen, I’m Chief Warrant Officer Stahl. You may call me Chief Stahl, or just Chief. My team and I have been assigned to help you."

"Green Berets?" Quentin asked as he surveyed Stahl’s team. The eight soldiers just looked lethal. It wasn’t just their weapons or gear, which seemed much better than those carried by Sergeant Daniels and his soldiers. It was the way Stahl’s soldiers stood. Relaxed, yet ready to do immediate and brutal violence. They reminded Slim of The Steve during an operation, and of Collin. Slim buried the pang of betrayal. The Steve was right. Vengeance could wait until after they survived.

"We’re Lurps, not Special Forces," Chief Stahl answered. "All of us have our Ranger tabs if that makes you feel any better. Well, everyone except for Smith. He’s only Force Recon." From the grins on the men’s faces showed a strong camaraderie. It reminded the two zombie hunters of their own field team.

"Be nice, Chief Stahl," Quentin warned, "The head zombie killer used to be a leatherneck," Stahl didn’t rise to the bait. He just gave a knowing smile.

"Very good Chief," Slim said. He didn’t know what a lurp was, but they had already wasted enough time. "The minion we’re hunting was last seen going deeper into the maze. He can raise a bullet-proof shield, so don’t waste your ammo." The soldiers nodded at the comments.

"You sure he’s still in here?" one of the soldiers asked. As if on cue, a beam of brilliant purple energy lanced into the sky from deep within the maze. Slim’s eyes tracked the beam into the sky. A burning fireball plummeted to the ground.

"Dear God, I hope that was just one of the Predators," murmured another of the soldiers.

"Chief, if you and yours want to wait here while Quentin and I settle things with the minion, I would understand," Slim said quietly when he saw the look of shock on Stahl’s face.

"All of those things they said about the minions are true," Stahl said. It wasn’t a question.

"Mostly," Slim confirmed.

"Well, if I wanted safe, I’d have done as my mom wanted and became an accountant," Stahl answered, "No sense in stopping now. Besides, the colonel would skin my hide if I let you take on that on your own." Slim nodded. He braced his MP5/10 in a low ready and led the group into the maze. As his hearing returned, Slim could hear the minion’s smug laughter.

Washington DC, 26 July 2010, 2315 Hours Local: Countdown: 1 Year, 3 months, 5 days

Mateo Cortez looked at the screen. He was crouched in one of the FBI’s covert observation vans. In the odd green hues of nightvision, Mateo watched as the entrance team stacked up at the front of the house. Spotters confirmed Ted entered the house some twenty minutes earlier. Mateo felt the rage roar inside of him as one of the monitors watched the average looking man in slacks and a polo shirt walked into the house. One of the techs kept running the footage. Something about getting a clear ID. Mateo recognized the face, and that was enough for the agents. This man was responsible for the kidnapping of Mateo’s ex-wife, and assisting in the killing of Mateo’s friend Nigel Brown, and the near killings of Kenn Blanchard, Zombie Strike’s leader and Mercedes, Mateo’s five year old daughter.

"Team ready," SWAT’s leader announced, "No movement in the house." The special agent in charge of the operation looked at Special Agent Tredegar for any last minute information. Tredegar nodded. The SAIC didn’t even look at Mateo. He’d made his opinion on an armed amateur in his command post known quite explicitly. Mateo was surprised there hadn’t been a PowerPoint with all the buzzwords the SAIC threw around during his little speech. A chill ran down Mateo’s spine. Certain it was nerves, Mateo ignored it and focused on the monitor. His entire body was tensed as he waited to hear the command to enter. A stronger chill flashed through him. Not nerves. Something was wrong. He could feel it. Mateo turned to tell SWAT to abort. The explosion picked up the van and slammed it on its side some fifteen feet from where it had parked.

Mateo heard the moans of the injured techs. He ignored them as leapt out of the van. The front of the house was gone. It kind of reminded Mateo of the dollhouse he’d bought Mercedes for Christmas. Open it up and see all of the rooms. Debris and FBI agents littered the lawn and street. Mateo focused on the movement in the house. His weapon was up as his mind immediately recognized the familiar walk of zombies. The first two zombies were brought down by instinct. Mateo’s eyes scanned the house. Maybe twenty or so. Less now as he pivoted and took down two more.

Screams of panic filled the street as the wounded agents saw the first walking corpse emerge out of the shadows. Some of the wounded tried to crawl away from the house, while others could only lie and scream. The noise just drew the zombies in. Right into Mateo’s sights. Undead after undead fell as Mateo placed hammer pairs into their skulls. Mateo was swept up into the familiar, simple action. Spot zombie, shoot zombie, find next target. Reload. Continue process. Mateo’s mind registered the last zombie at the back of the house. Just as he had practiced many times, Mateo advanced into the house. Something trapped the zombie. From the shadows, it looked like the explosion overturned a table. The zombie was just stuck there, unable to pass the waist high barrier. Mateo flipped on his flashlight. He wanted to make sure he finished this one properly.

Mateo froze as the light hit the zombie. He couldn’t move. He could only stare at the snarling face of Maria. Maria the zombie. The weapon came down as Mateo stared at Maria. She uselessly lunged at him. Mateo tried to bring his carbine up. The weapon was almost excruciatingly heavy. How could he do this? Maria was the mother of his child. And, if he was being honest, the one true love of his life. Each time Mateo tried to bring the carbine up his mind was flooded with memories. Maria when he first saw her, on their wedding day, just after giving birth.

The two gunshots shook Mateo out of his reveille. He watched in horror and relief as the two red holes blossomed on Maria’s head. Mateo stood immobile as his wife’s corpse collapsed to the ground. As soon as Maria was on the floor, Mateo whirled and brought up his carbine. A sad-faced Collin stood maybe fifteen feet away with a smoking Glock in his hands.

"I’m so sorry Matty," Collin said.

Zombie Strike Part 6 Chapter 52

Christmas Truce

December 24, 2020 / / 0 Comments

This has been a year the likes of which will go down in the history books as momentous. There will be historians publishing books on 2020 for decades. Particularly as the long term effects become apparent.

It is also a year where we have been at each others’ throats far too much. Sometimes over petty bullshit. Sometimes over significant disputes. Sometimes because of ginned up controversies so others could make a buck.

Yet, let us look back one hundred and six years ago. When men locked in a life and death struggle took the moment of a shared holiday to remind each other of their common humanity. Maybe we could take their example and just pause. Just try for a little while to not to kill each other.

It won’t last. The 1914 Christmas truce didn’t either. Yet, even a day or two of respite would be good for this country.

Star Wars TV!

December 23, 2020 / / 0 Comments

I finished up Season 2 of The Mandalorian. Just as with the first season, the second season’s storylines were great. Plus, like any great sequel, the creators upped the ante and let us see real life characters only seen in the cartoons. The ending was just bleeding awesome. How do you do successful Star Wars. This Is The Way.

The movies have been up and down. The original trilogy is still classic. The prequel trilogy was an excellent concept executed poorly. The Disney trilogy started off okay, but lacked a consistent story arc and felt more like someone trying to recreate a great painting by doing a paint-by-numbers. Honestly, it was kind of the inverse of the prequels in that it was a bad concept executed beautifully. Rogue One and Solo are actually some of my favorite films in the universe. So it wasn’t just Disney that fucked up.

Yet, the recent Star Wars series on television has been just consistently damned good. Season 7 of Clone Wars and The Mandolorian have exceeded my expectations at nearly every turn. Then, Disney announced a slew of new stuff. I will admit, I am salivating.