Solar flares, my Sobriety and the end of it all. 

If the grid crashes, I’m gonna drink.

I woke up to the news that a “severe geomagnetic G-4 storm” was hurtling through space at an indeterminant rate of speed and would crash into earth’s ionosphere sometime very soon. That sounded ominous news to me, ticked off my panic pulse and gave me a little something to fixate on for the next day or two. I’ve got some ism’s and this is the type of doomsday forecast that really wakes them up and sends them into overdrive. That, of course, came and went without incident, just the light show we all got to gawk at from our backyards.

To be perfectly honest it was a nice break from worrying about the job market, inflation and the millions of other things that occupy the talking heads within my head. The potential end of the world as we know it, this is much more fun than complaining about the partially reanimated corpse of President Joe Biden or the legal drama surrounding porn stars and our former President.

The solar flares came, the went, I was able to see the Northern Lights for the first time in my life. This was the type of apocalypse I could get behind. We got the Aurora's as far south as Alabama in The States.

No serious person was predicting a power grid collapse but I never describe myself as serious, so, thats where my mind went. Some in the news media, mentioned the potential for localized blackouts due to safety systems cycling. Next week might be pretty busy for Nasa, spaceX and star-link as it may adversely effect some satellites spinning around the globe at Mock 36. Everyday Janes and Joes shouldn’t even notice. Just kick back and enjoy the light show.

That being said, I can’t help but let my mind wander and not always to the most forgiving of neighborhoods. What if this solar event had somehow knocked out the power grid, sent us to back to the 1800’s in a blink of an eye? What the hell would I do then?

I’m guessing I would drink.

That’s not an insignificant statement coming from me. I haven’t had a drink in eighteen years. Not a beer, glass of wine or a fucking shot of NyQuil. There’s very good reasons for that, believe me.

Let’s just say I’ve got an allergy and when I put booze into my system I tend to break out in handcuffs. But if the world spirals backward a couple hundred years overnight, I’m guessing issues with law enforcement are not going to be high on anybody’s list of priorities.

First on everybody’s list should be water. It’s the top of mine. The next is food. Then firearms. Yeah, I went staight to guns. Watch The Walking Dead people!

The walking dead, I’m sad to say, might, might be the most accurate way of looking at a life after electricity, cell phones, internet or any other form of communications. If power grid crashes and we are all lost to time and space, the abyss, the dark come once again to claim us all, what is the human animal capable of, once the water stops coming out of the pipes? There’s an uneasy knowledge contained within that question.

That brings me back around to drinking? Would I want a drink as some sort of escape? To drown my sorrows so to speak, as a crutch to deal with the knowledge that every diabetic on the planet would be dead within days, with no refrigeration to store insulin. Why would that make me feel any better about it all?

It wouldn’t and that’s not why I would have a drink or two or ten. I would have to use drinking as a tool. I would need to summon my Mister Hyde back from exile. I’d need his help with the tasks ahead if I wanted to survive. There’s a damn good chance I wouldn’t want to survive but I’m too Catholic for suicide and not Catholic enough to prevent the what’s coming next. What’s coming next is the main problem here, choosing to survive in advance of minor ethical issues would be something for us all to grapple with. Would we become predators or prey? Savengers, loners or try to draw in others to have community with? Would we become Shelob and Gollum or Samwise and Fordo? The hard truth is that we would have to become a some mixture of both in the short run, very low on the time horizion we’d be unrecognizable to ourselves.

Then again, I’m just a writer. What possible utility would I have in a post apocalyptic world? I’m a video game loot drop for much harder men who would have just inherited the world. I’m the meek, wondering if that verse was a bad translation when the bible made the jump from Aramaic to greek to English and so on.

Then again, the solar flares have come and gone, so not much to worry about here. Not exactly food for thought, more of a snack.

Rendering, Comics and Stephen King

So I'm back,
    I've got some awfully large video files in final cut rendering right now which has allowed me to return to the Stephen King portion of my comic book epic.
    I've recently discovered the gunslinger series. The comics, I read all the Dark Tower books years ago. It was one of those moments that can happen to you in the corner comic book store. When you happen across a little treasure. It might be a worthless piece of crap to anyone else but to you in the Hope diamond. I found that in the gunslinger comics, the tales of Roland had yet to end.
    Me and Stephen King go back aways. I've read just about everything he's ever written, and have been reading him since I was a kid. Really, a pretty young kid.
    I found early on that my ole man was a reader, we got him books for birthdays and Christmas and, and, and- to tell the truth us kids just got lazy and we seldom gave him anything other than a books now that I think of it.  But he read them, sitting on the couch, cigarette smoldering in the ashtray beside him with a novel in front of his nose. He's a man who loves a good story and he wanted thete kids to be that way as well. First book I ever read was the Hobbit. I asked my Dad, "hey, whattcha reading" and he handed it right off to me. I was far too young and struggled all the way through it. Skipped the Elven crap, didn't follow half the story but muscled my way through and in doing so I learned something about the old man. he didn't care what we were reading as long as we read. Think about it, there was some dark crap in the hobbit novel for a little kid. Lot's of violence and nightmarish imagery.
     So I tried my luck, Edgar Allen Poe, no worries, the old man liked that I was reading, Bram Stoker, check, The Shining- Fuck yeah! One day my Mother pointed out that I was reading that horrible Stephen King to my father and the response was music to my ears. "Leave him alone he's reading, a lot worse things he could be getting into."
     Full discloser the Shinning ended up scaring the living shit outta' me, Jack Torrance was a man with some issues. But let's set that aside. I was young, like Danny's age and I could read what I considered near porn right in front of my parents! It was pretty cool. There was all sorts of violence, creatures that go bump in the night and even sex hidden between the front and back covers. I even got a copy of misery for Christmas from my Mom.  It was a glorious time. Me and Mister King go back aways. and I'll continue to read everything the man puts out; I am a constant reader.    
      Now I find there are comics. They are a shitload of fun even though not written directly by King himself. I'd assume he oversees the process from somewhere in the higher levels of his own Dark Tower in Maine. They represent a visual silmarillion, filling in the blanks that were left behind in Roland's wake as he trudged through the wastelands of a world that has moved on.
      I hear tell of a graphic Novel entitled "N" that I've yet to find, perhaps a another trip to a different store will unearth it. Someday....

Secret Wars at home and in the galaxy #2

     Okay I'm back. Where was I?
     That's right, free comic book day. "No idea I answered." He gave me the rundown, half priced back issues, propmotional books for free from the biggies (Marvel DC ext.)
    Save the date, consider it saved.
    Needless to say I spent a few bucks on "free comic book day" when it finally rolled around. This did not sit well with my wife. As soon as I got back she began to ask how much I'd spent that day. "What did I get?", " Why did I get it?", "Do you really need those?" This of course brings us to the secret wars  at home portion of our little tale.
    This was a very strange development in my life. My wife rarely gives me a hard time about anything. We are VERY happily married, no issues, but this addition of a handful of comic books seemed to bit of a pebble in her shoe.  It's wasn't the money, I mean, we're not rich but I've certainly got enough that I can piss a few dollars away on comic books once a week. (I've discovered the "pull list") I did the math and I spend more money on a weekly basis on cigarettes and coffee than I do on comics. So what was it? What had changed?
    Here's my best guess... if anyone's reading maybe you could chime in. When my wife and I met years ago she was bar-tending, putting away money for her master's degree and I was a bouncer at the same night club. I also did some personal security work at the times to help with the bills. Shortly after we met, we kissed, began dating, became happy, became happier, she left the club to pursue her MBA and a paid internship with Morgan Stanley while I also stepped away from night club life and began working with a military and tactical firm (Strictly for film and Television.) having fake firefights and chasing Jack Bauer around.
     Her internship turned into a full time position and she encouraged me to elevate myself within the company I work for, which I did. Leap of faith time, I invested, became part owner and things are awesome. We get the house, joint bank accounts, rings and then said "I do." (I know, we did backwards, wanted her to graduate so no homework on the honeymoon.) Happily ever after right?  Pretty much. Honestly, her new found annoyance with the comics is not really bad, not at all. It's just the only thing- I know I'm lucky.
     So? What's the issue? Again, best guess.
     She met and married 1st a bouncer, executive protection detail guy, who then works at a military tactical firm, then becomes management above hundreds of military operators. Kind of a paradigm shift when that guy starts coming home with comic books aint it?  From Jason Bourne to Sheldon Cooper overnight. I can see why she's upset.
    If I came home and told me she was burning her MBA and volunteering for Hilary for America I think I'd need to pull a "double take" as well.
    So I toned it down a bit. Cut my comic pull list down to Deadpool, planet hulk, Secret Wars- oh yeah Secret wars! Remember the fast forward button I was talking about earlier?  A lot happened between issue 252 and now and I don't know what the hell is going on.... but I like it.
    First off doctor Doom is now a GOD!? Okay, fine, I remember he almost pulled it off in the original Secret Wars story line, so I can buy that somewhere in the past twenty years he was actually able to pull it off. There are dozens of  Thor's and none of them are the original guy... okay. There seems to be two or three of everybody, Spiderman, Reed Richards, Sue Richards dies right away then pops back up Hanging with Doctor Doom. What else don't I get? How bout- multiple hulks- Grey hulks with Mohawks. The "Fantastic kids", the creepy offspring for Reed and Sue- who may or may not be dead. I think Peter Parker is dead or has morphed into an hispanic dude. Oh! when did wolverine Die!!! Wait, he might not be dead, let me walk over here, what's this "old man Logan"?
    Long story short I'm loving it Quietly. as I write this the wife thinks I'm doing research between the FN-200 and HK 416 assault rifles. What a lovely Day.
    I also stumbled across another thing.... Stephen King comics. Oh dear lord, what a lovely day. Mr. King will have to have an entire entry dedicated to him... next up, maybe tomorrow.  
   Later...

Secret Wars at home and in the Galaxy

Secret Wars at home and in the galaxy.

       Been awhile since I rattled away on the keyboard to post something onto the Tweekerville Blog.
       The reasons for my return are somewhat varied but can pretty much be brought into focus on a single word. Comics.
       Yep Comic books, graphic novels, trade paperbacks and even, that's right, Stephen King, the man the myth the legend. As many of us were, I was a collector of these wonderful stories when I was a kid. My ole man would always pick up a couple for me when I was sick and home from school. They would never get thrown away after reading. "Back in the day" it was Sergeant Rock , Weird Wars and of course Spider man, whatever looked good to my Dad I suppose.  I'd buy a couple for myself when alowances or odd jobs provided me with a bit of Little kid money... On my own I found Daredevil. This year, whadda know, Net flicks stumbled across ole horn head as well. This led me back.
        I suppose I should go to the end of the beginning and explain what brought my collecting days to an end. Or not... doesn't really matter seeing as no one is likely to read this anyway- guess that'll make it less embarrassing. The little kid comics I was given by my dad and the daredevil's I squirreled away money for were soon joined by other titles that I found myself to love. X-men, Ghost Rider, fantastic four, ole reliable Spidey. Then the insanity truly began when Peter Parker put on some fancy new black duds. All hell broke lose and I was enjoying ever minute of it. I thought I'd buy some comics hold em for a year and make myself a million dollars, just like the rest of the dipshits. I even plopped  thirty bucks for Spiderman #252, had two copies once upon a time.
      One fateful night (In high school by this time) I came home late at night having attended a standard issue, high school keg party. World was spinning, I reeked of booze and somehow made it past my parents, "Oh what a lovely Day!!!"
      Then the world spun faster, the day became less lovely, I decided to ride it out. If only I can lay  in bed all will be fine but when my head hit the pillow matters worsened. Stomach churned producing foul tasting burps which hung in my mouth compounding the issue until I leaned of the edge of the twin bed a PUKED MY GUTS UP!!
       Right into my comics. Had the long box propped right next to the bed. Oops.
       I remember that Calvin and Hobbs survived the Bushmills blast but little else did. One of Many major loses I can attribute to Alcohol in my life. Different story, another time.
      So That was that. I was a little too old and too aware of the current of "cool" that did not include comics in the first place to begin again.
      Gotta hold down the fast forward button for awhile here, lot of years between then and now. So netflix, Daredevil, ole Matt Murdock back in my life and a comic book store not three miles from my house. I'd noticed the joint before of course, always having an urge to go in but never acting on it. Until that is, I did. Little comic shop called Galaxy Of comics (That's where the Galaxy in the title of this came from.) I strolled in, nodded to the guy behind the counter and proceeded to look around.
      Good ole Spidey was still around, as was Matt Murdock and other friendly faces.  But it seemed my friends had grown up just like me. Art work is way different, characters I'd never heard of before- I fled to the back issues.
        I Found the Elektra storyline back in there and picked up some issues I'd once owned and proceeded to check out. Warren (Guy behind the counter) asked "Find everything?" and I said "Not even close". He proceeded to ask me what I was looking for and I gave him the cliff notes version of the story above, he helped my find a couple books I overlooked when a synapse fired in my brain- Secret Wars! How could I have forgotten?! That's where Spidey got his new suit and changed the landscape of my comfortable adolescent comic book store for once and all time (Wish I could remember it's name)
     I asked, was pointed in the right direction and added to the pile of titles I had back at the counter.
     Then it happened. Warren asked me "Ya' know there's a whole new Secret Wars about to come out?" as he handed me the Marvel promotional postcard. I didn't know anything about it but pocketed the postcard as he rung me up on an old school register. "Ya' know about free comic book day?" he asked without looking up. Of course I didn't... starting to get the picture? Hooked once again like Jim Carroll trying to shoot up one last time; just don't work that way.


getting a little late..... I shall return. May as well post this.