Well, it's official

There is now, officially, no way that the Houston Texans can match their record from last year.

Not that I was terribly excited to see another 7-9 season but I was hoping that the Texans would at least be competitive.

Yesterday's game was very competitive. It shouldn't have been. 24-3 at the end of the half. 27-17 with 29 seconds left. How can it get any worse than that? Houston is inventing ways to lose.

Ah well, at least they're creative.

The positives:
-7 sacks by the Houston defense
-2 sacks allowed by the Houston O-line
-293 passing yards, 3 touchdowns and only 1 interception against
-Big game for Andre Johnson

The negatives:
-Rookie 3rd-string quarterback throws for 300+, 3 touchdowns and only 1 interception
-110 yards rushing, 1 TD for Steven Jackson
-Fumbled our only interception
-10 points against in the last 30 seconds
-yet another loss.

Obviously, the season has been over for awhile but it's frustrating to see that they just CAN'T win a game.

Ah well, on to Baltimore.

If God were a typist

He would, in His infinite wisdom, use this keyboard. The Microsoft Natural Ergonomic Keyboard 4000 is the single-greatest keyboard I have ever used. It has a split keyboard (all wavy-like to be comfortable on your wrists). It also has shortcut buttons for homepage, email, search, volume control, play/pause, calculator and 5 “favourites”, as well as a back and a forward button (probably for internet navigation).

The real kicker is the zoom slider which zooms in and out of documents at the nudge of a finger.

Yes, maybe God is a typist and that’s why we have this now.

Lest We Forget

Remembrance Day has always been a very emotional time for me. My grandfather fought in World War II and, especially after having read some entries from his journal, the horror, the end of innocence for so many and the torture of those who were at home, waiting for their loved ones really hit home. So many of those who went over came back changed. You can't shoot someone dead and expect not to change, whether you buy into the us-versus-them mentality or not. Alcoholism, post-traumatic stress disorder, physical disfigurement. These are things that real people took home with them as a price for stopping a madman. I, for one, am thankful that they paid that price. It's hard to know what we would not have, never having to do without it, but the thought of not being able to live my life as I choose scares me.

As part of Beavers, Nicholas and I walked to the Butterdome at the University of Alberta, yesterday, and marched around the track to the applause of the multitudes of onlookers. I felt like a bit of a dork because I didn't yet have my Beaver Leader uniform, but everyone seemed to take that in stride. What really got to me was how Nicholas behaved. Not in a bad way. A lot of the kids, whether they were Cubs, Beavers, Scouts or even the Cadets that were seated in front of us, were jumping up out of their seats, talking and laughing, even during the two-minute silence that happened at 11:00. Nicholas sat quietly in his seat when we were sitting, he stood quietly when we were standing, he took his hat off when he should and he was patient, interested and well-behaved. Last night, I told him how proud I was of him, and I explained why Remembrance Day was what it was.

He laughed a little bit when I told him about crazy Adolph Hitler, until I explained that he wasn't like a TV bad guy, that he was hurting and killing people and that a bunch of people went over the sea to stop him. When he understood what I was saying, and he understood why it was important to remember and honour the people who fought in the war, I was proud of him. I was proud of myself, too, because I could make him understand why it was important to me.

When they had the veterans in the wheelchairs, being pushed by current members of the Armed Forces, it felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach. To think of what they had been through, the life-changing events that brought them to where they are now, I imagine it must have been a real honour for the younger men and women to escort them around the track.

I don't usually make any grand claims to patriotism. I realise that we're a country, and we make mistakes. We're not better or worse than anybody else, but when we were called upon to help out, we went, we sacrificed, and we succeeded.

For that, I am thankful.

Hank Ilesic

This particular bit of dementia came from a piece of news that Sean sent me. Hank Ilesic had been a punter in the CFL for many years. Recently, he tried out for the Ottawa Renegades when one of their kickers (or do they just have the one) went down with an injury. The interesting part of this newspiece was that Hank Ilesic punts recreationally.

What does that mean, you ask? Well, a normal person would just assume that Hank was lying, padding his resume. Something like:

“So, Hank, you keeping in shape?”

“Sure, (coach) Joe (Paopao)! I … um… punt recreationally!”

This reminds me of a time, just about ten years ago, when I was living in the city with Jake. Atti and I applied for jobs as security guards and Atti decided to sweeten the pot by adding “3 years martial arts training” to his application form.

That’s what a “normal” person would assume. Between Sean and I, however, we managed to twist Hank Ilesic into some mythological figure whose lot (and only joy) in life is to tote along a bag full of J-5-Vs (the old football standard of the CFL), punting. This would have been enough, so we had to continue.

I believe the big turn came when Hank didn’t make the Renegades. See, between Sean and I, we reasoned that Hank didn’t make the team because he hit Paopao’s kid with a ball. Upon being escorted from the practice facility, Hank could be heard screaming “I got one in here for you too, Paopao!” [punt](the [punt] being the sound of Hank punting a ball AT Paopao.

From there, Hank became a twisted, bitter man. His only joy, punting, had been transformed into a malicious, havoc-wreaking passion. “F#ck that! F#ck you! F#ck everyone!” [punt]

After causing some damage, Hank was forced into community service as a Big Brother. Bobby, a little orphan boy, came to love Hank, but Hank’s heart of stone would not turn.

“I love you, Hank.”
“F#ck. Whatever.” [punt]

His indifference has not changed Bobby’s heart. And Bobby’s continued devotion has turned Hank malicious.

“Do you love me, Hank?”
“Yes, Bobby.”
“REALLY?!”
“No. Haw haw.”

Of course, you’ve learned by now that we cannot leave anything where it is. We decided to add a science-fiction twist to Hank’s adventures.

As we did with Dorian Boose (which is the subject for a future posting), we inserted Hank into a part in Flash Gordon. Unlike Boose, though, we made Hank the jealous Prince Barin.

Lines such as “We certainly welcome you all to stay,” became “I welcome you to f#ck off!”

Hank also saw time in place of Kurt Russell in Big Trouble in Little China:

"Six Demon Bag? F#ck your six-demon bag. I got a bag of J-5-f#cking-Vs here." [punt]

"No horse-sh!t, Jack?"
"F#ck you, Wang." [punt]

"You know what Jack Burton always says."
"Who?"
"F#ck you, Lo-Pan." [punt]

Most recently came Hallowe’en , when Hank took Bobby trick-or-treating as part of his community service.

“Gimme that candy.”
“You gonna check it for poisum, Hank?”
“F#ck that. I’m gonna eat it.”
“You MUST love me. You’re keeping me from eating candy that would be bad for me. Thank you, Hank!”
“What? F#ck. Whatever.”

If this seems stupid to you, well, you’re probably not alone, but it’s kept me amused this long, and it will probably continue to, well into… um… December?

Hank will always have a place in my heart, even if he is a cold, unfeeling bastard who is only happy when he’s punting recreationally.

Required Cognates

Before I start on the next few things I have planned for In The Now, there are some things you need to know. I guess you could call them precognates, if you were designing a scholastic program, so here they are:

- I know I have no life. I have a baby. Fortunately, I have Microsoft Word.
- Hank Ilesic is a former CFL Punter
- Dorian Boose played for the New York Jets at the same time that Brad, Sean and I enjoyed our three-player franchise in John Madden 2000.
- I am a fanatical Flash Gordon enthusiast. That is not to say that I would go to a Flash Gordon movie dressed in appropriate regalia. But I do love the movie. I believe that this was caused by a combination of things, including, but not limited to:
- My dad took me to see Flash Gordon when I was very young and impressionable.
- Queen did a very good job on the soundtrack, the memory of which haunted me through my youth. “FLASH!”
- When Rob and I finally chased a copy of Flash Gordon down, it was on a night when his mom gave us FREE PIZZA.
-I have found support and camaraderie in my devotion.

- The cast of Flash Gordon includes, but is not limited to:
- Flash: Our hero. Does nothing wrong. His motives are always pure – mostly.
- Emperor Ming: Tyrannical ruler of Mongo. He sows mistrust among his princes “Outside his own kingdom, the hunter becomes the hunted” is Ming’s Law.
- Prince Barin: “Official” heir to Ming’s throne. Also, “Official” boyfriend to Princess Aura. I say “Official” because these things are subject to change without notice.
- Princess Aura: Seductress – she aims at her target and hits whatever she aims at. She aims at Flash and that makes Barin mad.

I’m sure there are other things you’ll probably need time to catch up to, but Bloggers are fairly intelligent people for the most part, and I’m pretty sure you’ll figure it out.


Or just get disgusted and not read this.

Nicholas Johnstone: Game Designer

One evening, the family was sitting down to supper when Nicholas came up with the following:

“Blast-on Blaster Sunshines”

I know where he came up with the thought to make a game of his own. We had played around with RPG Maker a little bit and he’d had fun with it, but his imagination took some ball and ran with it. What follows is what I was able to write down (and remember) from this conversation:

“You start off walking, then you find a rocket and blast off and you shoot the thing and it explodes and there’s a giant monster inside, and he’s bigger than Pluto, bigger than ANYTHING (which is obvious since it’s bigger than Pluto).

“Then you get a gun and-“

Kim interjected at that point, “Does it just stun him?”

“No, it’ kills him. And then you go to the next level.”

I added, “Next level? That sounds like a whole game by itself!”

“Nope. There’s a MILLION levels.”

I asked, “Who has the time to finish a million levels?” then answered my own question. “Anyone who plays Everquest.”

Kim added, “Boys.”

“Daryl.”

Nick changed his mind. “Um, actually, there’s only 2.”

Then he went on, talking about Super Mario Sunshine for awhile, imagining that he was creating it, and ended with: “And then the monster blows up.”

My son, the creative genius.

Super Mario Bros: The End

Chapter 1

How long since they had turned? The question burned in Princess Toadstool’s mind. She could not remember the exact date that Mario and Luigi Mario, the saviours of the Mushroom Kingdom had been turned by their once-nemesis, the dread dragon Bowser.

For countless turns of the calendar, Mario and Luigi had been heroes, sacrificing themselves time and again in an effort to save her. She truly did not know which one she would have chosen if she had had to, but they were twins and willing to share everything – including the platonic affections of the young princess.

However, some indeterminate time ago, Bowser had shown up in his air ship. Mario and Luigi had fixed their faces in masks of determination and set out to battle the never-successful villain. However, instead of lobbing Bob-ombs from his vehicle, a single scroll, attached to a rock, dropped from the zeppelin, landing with a crash between the brothers.

Mario, ever the leader, bent to pick it up. Unrolling it, he mumbled as he read the note from his greatest adversary. The brothers exchanged words – it turned heated. Finally, Mario put his hand on his brother’s shoulder and they looked up. There were tears in Mario’s eyes as he signaled that Bowser should lower the rope-ladder. A short climb and the plumbers were out of Toadstool’s life.

The ensuing weeks had been Hell for the residents of the Mushroom Kingdom. With nobody to fight off the combined forces of Bowser and the Brothers, simple mushroom people were being conscripted into Bowser’s evil army under the pretense of “Freedom for all” when it was just an attempt to topple the monarchy that had reigned in peace over the kingdom up until the time that Bowser had arrived. She knew that her subjects could see through the thin veil of Bowser’s deception but they had little choice in the matter – it was enlist or prison and few would take the one over the other – especially when it seemed that there was nobody to stop the Bowser Army.

It was a mere matter of time before the army attacked the palace – there was no chance for the Mushroom army the way things stood. Mario and Luigi had tilted the scales a little too far for her comfort. Old King Portabella was well into senility and he would hear nothing of raising an army of loyal mushrooms. His time is done, Toadstool thought to herself. If I don’t do for the Mushroom Kingdom, nobody will. With her first true act as a ruler of the Mushroom Kingdom, she decided to even up the odds.

“All right. Thank you very much. I will see you soon? Perfect. Thank you.” Finally, her super team was created. They would form the task force that would save the Mushroom Kingdom from the forces of evil. Toad, the omnipresent administrative aide looked upon her approvingly.

“Who are the chosen few, your highness?” the short mushroom squeaked.

“Well, Toad, I had to keep several factors in mind. First, I needed strength. Where better to find strength than in Mario’s oldest foe.”
“Donkey Kong?”

“That’s right.”

“It that wise? He’s kinda a wildcard, isn’t he?”

“One thing that you can guarantee about Donkey Kong is that he hates Mario. If we’re going to be fighting the plumber, then we need to have the monkey. Next, because of his tenacity and his speed, I enlisted the aid of Jonny Excitebike. He will not only get off a horse after falling off – he will run to the horse. Next, I have added more strength, in the form of two men, named simply ‘Big Derek’. Yes, both of their names are ‘Big Derek’.”

“I remember them. They are not particularly smart but they are certainly strong.”

“That is correct, Toad. They will have someone to do the thinking for them. Her name is Samus. She will direct the ground forces. She seems to be instinctively able to communicate with the Dereks.”

“And the rest?” Toad was smart enough to know that there would be more.

“You are sharp, Toad. The rest are to be used for Espionage. Alex and Ryan, two crusaders, will be able to penetrate the deepest levels of the gangs of Koopa Troopa and Paratroopa, using everyday items as weapons. They will be directed by a man simply known as Blue, the Bionic Commando. He will coordinate subterfuge from within the system, using the enemy’s communications devices to keep in contact, both with us and with Alex and Ryan.”

“There has to be one more, Princess.” Toad said expectantly.

For the first time, the small mushroom saw uncertainty cross the face of the young Princess. “One more? I have one who will coordinate the frontal assault and one to coordinate the covert operations. I believe I have chosen the best for those jobs, as well as choosing the best for those units. Who am I missing?”

“I will guarantee you that the primate will chafe to being placed under a woman and the Bionic Commando does not get along with Samus either.”

“I had not anticipated this. So I need…”

“An over-commander, one to smooth over problems and see the bigger picture. His will be the final say.”

“Ah. Carlos.”

“The slime-slayer. Excellent, Highness. The only better thing would be if we still had the plumbers.”

A pang of regret, coupled with pain, jabbed the princess as if a physical blow at the memory of the wonderful days she, Mario and Luigi had spent together. The two Italians had a keen sense of humour and extremely deep insights as to the ways of the world. How would she continue, knowing that those two, the two that had given her so much, including her freedom on numerous occasions, had turned against her?

The princess steeled herself, knowing that such thoughts might make her soft for what needed to be done. The Marios were gone and there was nothing she could do about that. She could, however, do something about them. And she would.

“Hello, Carlos?” she began, as a male answered on the other end of the phone.

Chapter 2

Explosions tore up the neon-green grass below Samus’ feet as the Bob-omb went off. Fortunately for the space-marine, she had launched herself twenty feet into the air.

Bob-ombs were the easiest to deal with. They walked for a time before going off. Executing a flip in midair, Samus fairly easily avoided a Bullet Bill who would have lowered her armour rating.

Things had sure changed over the last couple of weeks. Mario and Luigi had gone from happy-go-lucky plumbers with some dragon-busting skills to cold-blooded murderers. With the flowers they’d plucked from secret boxes, they had rained fire down upon the castle until Samus, Dereks, DK and Jonny E. had come along and fought them back. Pulled from her musing by a cannonball, Samus did a mid-air somersault and landed on the cannonball, knocking it from the sky. She had met Mario and Luigi one time, at a Nintendo function – they were polite, if not too bright. However, there did seem to be something missing from them… Enough, thought Samus, it’s hard enough to fight with my mind on what I’m doing. Switching to missiles, the space marine took aim at a cluster of red Koopa Paratroopas. She hoped that the covert-ops team was making more progress.

***

Blue, the Bionic Commando, crawled on his stomach underneath a platform suspended by… what? Magic? Alternate physics? The warp-zone he’d passed through had given him a funny feeling and he knew that there were a number of large changes but he didn’t know that the impossible would exist here.

The sound of a Goombah rounding a corner brought Blue to his feet. Careless! A raw recruit would have seen this coming. He had no recourse but to go up. A quick dip into his pouch produced an extend-o-grapple, a device of his own creation. There was no time to marvel over his own ingenuity, however. Pointing the device upward, he pushed the activator and sent himself toward the roof.

The Goombah seemed oblivious to the sound of the grapple hitting the ceiling and, having no neck, he could not have looked up if he’d wanted to. Exploiting this vulnerability had been Mario and Luigi’s key to the constant defeats of the Bowser Army. And it was one that Blue was not above using either. Timing it perfectly, Blue pressed the release on the mechanism and dropped toward the ground, stopped only by the head of the mushroom foot-soldier. A satisfying “pweep” sound emerged from the flattened Goombah as he disappeared from view.

Now, to find that radio and communicate Bowser’s movements to the Slime Slayer.

***

Donkey Kong found himself alone on the battlefield. The Dereks had done a great work but they had retreated when the call was sounded. Samus didn’t like it when people didn’t listen but DK didn’t care. His only concern was destroying all of these insignificant gnats that pestered him. Blood coursed from a dozen wounds but the gorilla had been through much worse, hunting Krool. Sending a troopa-shell skyward, he knocked Lakitu from his cloud and, looking around, realized just how massive the onrushing army was. A slow thought (which was all there ever was for Donkey Kong) sprouted in his mind. Why were there no mushroom soldiers fighting on the side of the princess? He could find the question but the answer was a little too quick for him so he let it get away. Realizing that he would not likely make it out alive if he didn’t leave now, he leapt straight up in the air, grabbed onto Lakitu’s cloud and flipped himself into the seat. It didn’t take a genius to figure out how to fly it and it was even easier to launch the four remaining Spinies into the crowd of Bowser’s ground troops, delivering a painful spiny end for any soldier not clad in a shell. Goombahs hardly slowed the projectiles down and an entire brigade of the evil-looking mushrooms was mowed down in short order. Chuckling evilly, Donkey Kong flew off to Mushroom Palace.

Chapter 3

From the highest tower in the Mushroom Palace, Carlos could see the ravening hordes of Bowser’s army. They were held back for now by a spell cast by Toad, who had an amazing array of magical spells. This would not hold them back for long, however, and when they broke through, Toad would die. Such was the price to pay for the time that was needed. It all came down to time, now. Time for Blue, Alex and Ryan to do what they had to.

***

Ryan dropped the wooden stick he’d been using to fight off the guards outside of Bowser’s castle. It blinked for a time and then disappeared, its usefulness at an end. Fortunately, there was another garbage can, the third such that he’d used in this crusade. Turtle shells had been his primary weapon – that and the bricks that he’d been able to dislodge from the treasure boxes that were surrounded by nothing. One good yank and they came free – they flew really well too. Alex was currently laying about him with a Shy-guy, enemies being a valuable weapon to the two River-City boys. Finally, Alex and Ryan were alone, any enemies that remained blinking – their disappearance imminent – or BARFing, after which they started blinking. Looking around for anyone who might betray their whereabouts, Alex motioned to his buddy and they continued toward the castle which loomed large over the entire vicinity.

***

Blue swung from the suspended blocks, releasing the grapple at the end of his swing to gain maximum distance. If he timed it right, he could – there – the next set of brick blocks came within range and the Bionic Commando aimed and fired. With a satisfying crunch, the grapple bit, seeing Blue safely to the next objective.

From behind him, a hammer whistled by his head. Blue turned and fired without stopping to see who had thrown the weapon and silent death tore its way through the air to the lone Hammer Brother. As the armoured turtle disappeared, Blue resumed his journey to the castle. Carlos had been quite adamant in his orders for Blue to rejoin his covert ops team as they made the final assault on the castle.

***

“FULL RETREAT!” Samus called, pulling back from the fighting. It was amazing – none of her people had died and they were still going to lose the battle. She’d decimated an uncountable number of enemies and yet the horde continued inexorably forward. It was then that she had understood what her part in this was. Saying a silent prayer for the assault on the castle, she returned to the castle, all of her soldiers in tow and her delaying action successfully completed.

***

Realization came upon Carlos in a flash. Without knowing numbers, it was hard to say for sure, but it looked like… no, it couldn’t be the case. There had to be more, somewhere. He would have to talk to the princess.

Chapter 4

Mario jumped down from the floating platform, the high-pitched tone of his jump subdued. He hadn’t been the same since things had turned out the way they did. How could he have been so blind? All these years, and never – not once – had Mario run into a commoner in the mushroom kingdom that was anything but hostile toward him. Then that note from Bowser that made everything so clear.

Making Luigi see reason was the hardest part. He had never wanted to say anything, but his brother’s feelings for the princess had always been a little inappropriate. They did their job, they saved Toadstool on several occasions. But it was not right for him to push his feelings on the woman.

And now they were at war with the same person they had saved time and again. The woman who had kissed Mario on the cheek when he’d saved her in the floating castle. The woman whose hair shone in the sun like the mozzarella on a fresh pizza-pie.

No. I won’t let myself think of her in that way anymore. She’s responsible for where we are.

She and her father had been responsible for the oppression of the mushroom people since well before Mario had appeared. Bowser’s message to Mario had outlined that, but countless interviews with mushroom people of all stripes lent hard evidence to Bowser’s claim. Goombahs, Koopa Troopas, Lakitus, all of these creatures had suffered under the thumb of the Mushroom monarchy.

In a way, Bowser was a hero. He’d shown up just before Mario and taken the people’s plight into his heart. He’d fought for them, using the dirty tricks that they were not willing to. He’d shown them the way, and then when Mario came on the scene to save the princess, the mushroom people had finally decided to attack.

Why else had Mario never found a friend among the entire populace?

That was in the past, though, and Mario had nothing but the future to look forward to. Bowser would send Mario and Luigi home once the princess was taken down, by way of the secret warp zone, and the people of the Mushroom Kingdom would become the Free Peoples of Mushroomistan, and live in peace and prosperity.

That was what Mario hoped – if only he could trust the dragon who had been his nemesis for so long.

***

Luigi’s heart was breaking. He didn’t know what to do. He’d argued with Mario, but couldn’t get him to see the same thing. They were brothers. But the princess was the princess. She’d had that same hold on him since the day he’d gone down the drain in his bath tub and ended up here, in the mushroom kingdom.

Those eyes, that hair, the slim figure, so like his own. He and the princess had even shared a dream. A wonderful dream where the two of them had teamed up to defeat the evil Wart. (Mario and Toad had been there too, but that was immaterial.)

Where did Mario get off, telling him to turn on his one true love? Hadn’t he carried the team to new heights? If it were Mario all by himself, he would never have gotten so far. They’d been together since the very beginning, stomping crabs for gold, and now Mario expected him to follow when Mario called.

Forget that. If Mario wanted to go rogue, destroy all that the brothers had worked so hard for, betray the love of Luigi’s life, that was his doing. Luigi would do what he had always done. He would lead with the heart, and do what he had to do to get the job done.

Chapter 5

“But Princess, I don’t understand.” The slime-slayer’s voice hit the edge of plaintiveness but he recovered quickly. “Why can I not see the general population of this kingdom? Where are they all?”

“They are in seclusion. This war is extremely hard on them.”

“Take me there.”

“No.”

“Are…” the next question gave Carlos pause. This would determine his course of action and possibly decide the fate of the Mushroom Kingdom. “Are they on your side?”

The look in Toadstool’s eyes said it all. The uncertainty and fear were confirmation of his suspicions.

The seasoned campaigner turned from the princess and grabbed his comm. “Pull out, all units. PULL OUT!”

***

Blue, the Bionic Commando, looked down his scope at the soon-to-be-late Mario. One tap to the back of the cap, and the pasta-boy would be down. He eased into his crouch and suddenly the shot was there. ‘Say goodnight, goombah,’ Blue thought, because at this range, any noise would-

“Pull out, all units. PULL OUT!” Blue flinched, wincing. That would pull the entire Dragon-guard down on him. He opened his eyes to see Mario staring straight at him. It didn’t look good. He would have to shoot before-

It was too late. Before Blue could even think of pulling the trigger, a bouncing ball of fire caromed off his face. As he fell to the ground, the Bionic Commando was oblivious to the irony that his position was betrayed by the call to tell him that the man who eventually killed him was not his enemy after all.

***

Alex and Ryan were surrounded. Turtles, turtles with wings, some cute little shelled things, a couple of mushroom-looking things with guns loaded with Bullet Bills – there really was nothing they could do. They’d used up their stone hands and dragon feet just getting this close, and they could get no closer.

“Looks like we’re done for, Alex.”

“It’s the big barf in the sky for us, Ryan.”

You wanna be a prisoner?”

“Not me. You?”

“Nope.”

“Then one last time. DO IT!” Alex’s final two words resonated as, somehow, both Alex and Ryan simultaneously picked the other one up and threw him at the enemy.

Spinning through the air head first, Alex bowled over fourteen turtles and a shelled cute-thing before he was squashed by a fat turtle with wings. Three blinks and a coin sat where once there was a neighbourhood crusader.

Ryan didn’t have time to say goodbye, as he landed on his feet, in a fighting stance.

“Pull out, all units. PULL OUT!” Carlos began in the comm unit. “Mario and Luigi are not our enemy. The Bowser Army is not our enemy. It is all a lie. Pull out any way you can. Get back here safely.”

Putting up his arms, Ryan did the last thing he ever expected to do. He surrendered to the Bowser army.

***

Throughout the Mushroom Kingdom, word from Mario spread quickly. The mercenaries were bugging out. They’d caught on to the injustice of Toadstool’s reign, and were now leaving the Kingdom for good. If any were caught, they were to be released, and if any were seen, they were to be left alone.

The hordes advanced on the Mushroom Palace unimpeded. The thirst for vengeance was overwhelming. Slower mushrooms were trampled by some behind them, and disappeared without a trace. The advance became a sprint and righteous anger became bloodlust. Ascending the steps required the tide to narrow to four mushrooms abreast. The lead mushrooms rounded a corner and were sent, sizzling, to Hell.

The blue overalls and green hat were stained, the face was wet with tears, and Luigi stood over the dead form of Carlos the Slime Slayer. No more would the valiant Spaniard protect the city of Aliahan from slimes of every stripe.

Ball after ball of fiery death bounced into the rows of mushrooms. until the slaughter caused them to reverse course. Uncounted multitudes of mushrooms were crushed as the mushrooms in the back continued to try to reach the castle and those who witnessed the horror pushed the other way.

A small fraction of the horde that had reached Mushroom Palace limped away from it, their hunger for death ruined in the extinguishing of so many of their compatriots.

Chapter 6

“I should have known what you would do, Luigi.” Mario stepped out of the shadows.

“And you did nothing to stop me,” Luigi replied, turning to face his brother.

“You broke the Bowser army. I would not have them reach the princess either.”

“But you’re on their side.”

“I am. But it is not for the people to pull the despot from the throne. It is for their champion. If they were to do it, they would have no need of Bowser, and then they would overthrow Bowser when he did something they didn’t like, and it would be anarchy.”

“And you?”

“I’m what you might call Bowser’s proxy. I’ll do the dirty work, and then they will turn to Bowser for protection. He can rule, and the Mushroom Kingdom will be in peace once more.”

“You believe that the Mushroom Kingdom will be at peace under that murderous dragon?”

“No. I am not that foolish.”

“Then?” Luigi’s confusion was plain on his face.

“I killed Bowser.” Luigi did not flinch at the lack of emotion in Mario’s voice, but it was an effort.

“You… killed him?”

“I had to. If he were to rule, it would be no better than if Toadstool were to. Worse, in all probability.”

“Then …” Luigi’s eyes widened as he realized the repercussions. “You would rule in Bowser’s stead?”

“As long as people believe Bowser is still alive, they will pay their tributes to him. And I will run the show.”

“But what about the princess?” Luigi was pleading.

“She will have to die. She wants to rule, and her way is not the way of peace.”

“But-“

“No more, Luigi. Stand aside. I have a princess to kill.”

“You will not kill her, Mario.”

“I have no choice, Luigi. It’s the only way to peace.” Mario stepped forward. Luigi stood in his way.

I’ll stop you, Mario. I swear it.” He readied a fireball.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Mario took another step and was incinerated by the ball that flew from Luigi’s hand.

“For the princess, I would do anything.”

“Then die, plumber.” A blade bloomed from Luigi’s chest and around it, his green coveralls darkened to a black as the lifeblood fled from him.

Princess Peach Toadstool, uncrowned queen of the Mushroom Kingdom, lowered Luigi to the ground as he slowed and was still in his death throes.

From behind her, the familiar squeak of Toad could be heard. “There will be peace.”

Toadstool turned, the front of her dress covered in blood. “Let’s go to bed, Toad, dearest.”

“I’m the best!”

THE END

Phenobaby no more!

So, today is Lillian’s last day of Phenobarbital. Who cares? I do. I’m thinking that she’ll be okay. We started paring back the doses on Thursday and she hasn’t reacted at all. It hasn’t affected her sleeping, she hasn’t been overly grumpy, and there have been no more convulsions.

In other Lillian-related news, she’s started smiling and reacting to sound. Grampa Bob was all-too-willing to make an arse out of himself in order to facilitate the smiling. Thanks Grampa Bob!

One more Convulsion-related appointment (with a neurologist who wants to know about my family history) and then, if all is well, we can put this behind us and move on into a new, unmedicated future with Lillian.

YEAH!

Battle of Alberta

The first game of the NHL’s version of the Battle of Alberta is over and Calgary looked GOOD. A powerplay goal, no goals against, and Flames fans can thank Mikka Kiprusoff for bragging rights, at least until Thursday. To Shaun and Shaun I say Pbbbbbbt!

It looks like Kiprusoff is back in playing shape and ready to play. Phaneuf has sure looked good too. Iginla finally got back into it. I guess it just takes a rivalry game for that.

I just hope they don’t celebrate this win by dropping their next three or something.

42-10

The Houston Texans did not turn the ball over once. David Carr was sacked sacked a season-low three times. Jabbar Gaffney set a personal best with 10 catches. Centre Drew Hodgdon saw the field for the first time and did fairly well. The Texans converted a fourth-and-10 on a fake punt. Domanick Davis scored from 27 yards out. The defense got three sacks of their own. Oh, and their first turnover.

That’s the good.

320 yards rushing. Oh my GOD! The comments I have read so far are: “Shaun Alexander looked like he was doused in grease before the game.” “Alexander made C.C. Brown look like his girlfriend on that play.”
How does that happen? Sure, Alexander only ran for 141 yards, but Maurice Morris (who?!) ran for 100+ and Hasselbeck had as many yards as Houston’s leading rusher on 14 fewer carries.
Carr was knocked around all evening. Comments: “They’re going to ruin him (carr).” (Like they haven’t already ripped his legs off and replaced them with “Happy feet”.) “If you can’t stop your man one-on-one, you don’t deserve to wear the jersey”.
I’m not too surprised about Carr getting knocked around. But only three of the hits were for sacks, and one was roughing the passer.
40 yards rushing by Davis. What the heck? I guess the line was so geared up for preventing sacks that they forgot how to run block? Or maybe there were 9 in the box. If that’s the case, then why weren’t there more audibles into passing plays? I understand sticking with the run, but what about adjustment?
13 penalties for 95 yards. Who are they? The Oakland Raiders? Two illegal formation penalties on Chester Pitts (one negating a 24-yard run by Davis)? How does that happen? Do they not go over the formation in practice? Sure, Pitts hadn’t played tackle in a season and a quarter. That means that there’s going to be an adjustment. Shouldn’t they have made sure he was good to go before the game?
Kailee Wong gone for the season. Nobody’s fault that he got hurt, but GM and Coach must be to blame for a lack of depth behind him. Where’s Jay Foreman now? He’d look pretty good. Or Jamie Sharper, for that matter. (Derrick Johnson, anyone?)

That's the bad.

A lot of my anger for this loss is directed at the coaching staff and the front office. You can’t control injuries, but you can plan for them, and the lack of quality depth (C.C. Brown at Safety, Troy Evans at ILB, Milford “F#cking” Brown STARTING at guard) has me scratching my head.
At this point, I would LOVE to see Art Shell come in and be the coach of this team. I know it’s not going to happen, (Al Davis is, after all, still alive) but a boy can dream, right?

Next up, the Indianapolis Colts. If Phillip Buchanon can pull his something out of his something else, and Faggins can stop interfering with the receivers, there might be a chance. Especially if Andre Johnson is back. This may seem wildly optimistic to you, but I look forward to all the games, especially the ones where there's a chance to beat a much more successful team. Why should a professional team cringe from a chance to win? What am I, a Lions fan?

BisonWeb

Team BisonWeb took a major step forward today, as my magic word on a comment on my blog was bisalo. The bisalo is obviously a cross between bison and buffalo. Someone is trying to tell me something. What they're trying to tell me is that BisonWeb is inevitable.

Look:



















The question is: Where does BisonWeb go from here?

Obviously, word must spread.

Back at work

Time flies when you're not getting any sleep.

Twelve working days after the birth of my daughter, I'm back at work and ready to go. Things have changed so much for me in the past two-and-a-half weeks that it's going to take a bit of time for me to figure out my new role.

Not only am I a sleepless father of two but I am now officially the new Data Management Supervisor for Sperry Nisku.

Money aside, what does this mean? It means that all the things that I was doing before, I am now expected to do. All the things that they appreciated before -- overtime, training, mentoring -- these are all part of my job.

Does this mean that my job got harder? Probably not. I was able to do these things and get them done properly and on time. It just means that upper management's expectations of me just got a lot higher.

I know, I know, serenity is inversely proportional to expectation. Normally, I live my life by this. I try not to have any expectations of anyone else, but in this case, serenity is theirs, not mine, and the satisfaction of their expectation is directly tied to my continued employment. So, I'll have to find some new tricks, work harder and try to live up to their expectations -- with my serenity hanging in the balance.

It's a great day for work!

Seizure

On Friday, Lillian had her first seizure. We took her to Emergency at the Grey Nuns and they said it wasn't a heart thing, and that if there were more, we should take her in. I didn't say anything here because we were kinda just hoping it would go away.

She had two more yesterday, and now she's had two today. The second one today was in front of the pediatric resident at the Grey Nuns. When I was a baby, I had convulsions, and my brother and cousin both had them as well. The neo-natalogist (I didn't even know there was such a thing) called it "fifth-day fits". He can't rule out infection without testing, though, so they drained hooked my daughter up to monitors for her heart rate and oxygen saturation, as well as hooking up an IV to her. Nothing has ever broken my heart like seeing my baby's blood run down the nurse's hand, onto the blanket, hearing her scream and knowing there's nothing I can do about it.

The pediatric resident told us it would be a good idea to take a walk while they poked at her spine for some more fluids. We took that advice.

The good news is, now we know why Lillian has been having seizures, coupled with 20-30 seconds of apnia(not breathing, for you non-medical, non-scrabble types). It's most likely going to go away with semi-regular doses of phenobarbitol (a mild sedative) and if the tests come back negative and the seizures don't return after two days (which is getting off relatively light, since I was in there for a couple of weeks as a baby), she can come home again.

I'm just home right now to update this, get some things for Kim since she's staying at the hospital, and to get stuff ready for Nick's school-day tomorrow.

Speaking of my amazing Kindergartening son, he's staying with Gramma while Kim and I are with Lillian in the hospital.

Come home soon, Lillian.

A study in contrast

Preston



















Lillian



















These two shots made me realize how much Lillian looks like Preston did a couple of years ago.

If only I'd gotten that shot of Lillian as a profile.

Still, they're both babies, so they look alike, right? Right??

At least they're cute.

I'm just about even with those bastards

Six months ago, I was riding the bike in the morning, and still getting to work plenty early to earn extra money. Then the bastards stole my bag, with my shoes, sweats, a t-shirt and Deadhouse Gates, a book that I was thoroughly enjoying.

I've since replaced the shoes and t-shirt. Tonight I took another step against the bastards and bought Deadhouse Gates again.

It's the second book in the Malazan Book of the Fallen. It's fantasy (don't lynch me) but it's written by a Canadian, and it's good.

The first book, Gardens of the Moon, drops you in the middle of the action and gradually explains some of the background. It was a little hard to get into, seeing as how most of the Fantasy I've read puts you right in the beginning, when the hero is still a modest farm-boy, and then all hell breaks loose.

This one is nothing like that.

Now I have the book. All I need is some sweats and a bag and I'm back at even (even though I'm down the cost of replacement).

Bastards.

Lillian

Kim will tell you she knew it was a girl. My sister will tell you the same thing. So will various people around my office.

Well, they were right.
















Saturday morning was supposed to be a day of sleeping in, with Nick at his grandparents’, and the morning to doze. That dream was shattered, however, when Kim came back to bed around a quarter after seven to tell me that she was wet.

Holding pee-jokes back, I asked if her water had broken. “I dunno” was the reply (which had been the reply to countless “Was that a contraction?” questions I’d asked over the past two weeks). I suggested that we go to the hospital to get it checked out, since they wanted her in nice and early for some antibiotics against a group-b strep (whatever that is) that they’d discovered some time earlier.

Three hours later, I finally had Kim convinced and we were off to the hospital.

After an interminable wait in what I will call the “four-to-a” room, where up to four pregnant women can wait to be taken to a delivery room, we learned that Kim’s water had indeed broken and that they would eventually want to hook her up to an IV to get the clendomiacin into her.

After another interminable wait in what I call the “four-to-a” room, Kim got her antibiotics, and we went for a walk, trying to get the baby to re-engage the pelvis, a position that the kindly Dr. Evenson had told us the baby had already reached. Apparently, it’s not likely that a baby will disengage the pelvis, but our Lillian is up to many impossible things. She re-engaged (or engaged for the first time, depending on whether or not you believe Dr. Len) and we headed home.

We spent the afternoon fairly restful and Nicholas came back to us fairly early on. Four games of Pokemon-Sorry later (I won the tournament, 3-1), Howard and Mary Jane (or Mr. And Mrs. MacPherson, if you prefer) returned to take Nicholas and bring us our doula. For those of you not in the know, a doula is a childbirth facilitator. Kinda like a midwife, but not quite as technical. Kinda like a birth-coach (me) but more technical. As a side note, Kara did an amazing job, and if any of you bloggers ever need a doula, I would recommend her.

We returned to the hospital around eight-thirty for the second round of antibiotics, and the nurses talked Kim into keeping the needle in her arm. This turned out to be a mistake, as the needle bent and sent a bunch of saline into the part of Kim’s arm that isn’t vein, and puffed up the arm painfully.

We left the hospital after spending another couple of hours in the four-to-a, convinced that Kim was not in labour, despite some contractions that had seemed to be leading somewhere.

The night was spent for Kim, trying to start labour. I helped when I could, but the rest of the time was spent playing solitaire and waiting.

5:30 saw us back at the hospital. We knew that it was getting close to the time they would want to induce labour, and that was something that Kim had said she wanted to avoid. She got the antibiotics, and by the time the doctor was ready to see her at 10 or so, she’d already decided she’d be induced. She didn’t want to be too tired to give birth, so it wasn’t too much of a blow when Dr. Corbet came into the room and told us that induction would be happening now.

With this stunning piece of news, and the oxitocin drip started, I was so excited I fell asleep for a half-hour. Kim and Kara did – well, whatever it is that expectant mother and doula do when labour is imminent.

When Kim was allowed off the fetal monitor and could get up and go, we went walking the halls of the third floor of the Grey Nuns hospital. Kim had wanted to walk through her labour and, while this was not the off-leash area, Kim was walking. When the contractions started, I didn’t know what would work best for Kim, so I just walked up to her and gave her a hug. The next few contractions allowed us to fine-tune our technique and before too long, Kim would allow me to support her weight with my knees while I held her.

We walked for a good half-hour, circling the halls, looking at baby pictures, contracting (well, Kim was contracting. I wasn’t.) Kara was there, talking Kim through her contractions, helping Kim to learn how best to manage her pain. I started taking a more active role as well, talking to Kim while she breathed through the contractions.

When walking was over, Kim and I stepped into the shower (once I figured out how to make the thing work) and continued the process. She felt the baby drop and had to start squatting during contractions. She hung off of my neck while I stood there and told her she was doing a good job. At one point, she wondered if she was doing any good at all – if she should find some way to deal with the pain. I talked her through her uncertainty, and pretty much immediately, she said she needed to push. We got her out of the shower, and into bed where they told her she was 8 cm dilated. 10 cm is fully dilated and time to push, so I figured it would be pretty soon. I dashed into the bathroom and changed back into my underwear and pants (not socks, though, Sean) and returned. After that, she was in bed the rest of the way.
















Fifteen minutes of pushing saw the birth of my baby daughter.

She was born at 6 pounds, 14.2 ounces, and 21 inches long. She enjoys sleeping, eating, pooping, shrieking (Cry your rage, Lillian), and plotting to take over the world with Jack.

She is very, very cute, despite a disturbing resemblance to grampa Bob, and I think she's actually trying to be cute when she yawns. It works, though.
















Welcome to the Johnstones, Lillian. We're all wack-jobs, but we all love you.

The Johnstone House

This is the Johnstone House. May, 2004, I took possession of this townhouse with the intention of living here a couple of years and then moving on to bigger and better things. The most alluring thing about the place (beside the fact that we could afford it!) was that the entry faces away from the street. Carrying groceries in can be a pain but it's worth it.















The kitchen is far from ultra-spacious but what it lacks in space it makes up in lack of counter-space.















My only complaint about the dining room is that the floor is carpet.
NOTE: We elected not to keep the For Sale sign in the window.















I took these pictures when Kim and I finally got the chance to look the place over together. At the time, I'd thought that they were decent pictures. What the hell was I thinking?

This is a great closet-shot of the computer room.

NOTE: Realtor's leg sold separately.















Another prize-winning shot. This time, of the bathroom sink. I could really do something as a professional photographer.

A fairly innocuous laundry room, until you realize that the Flame-Master furnace is older than I am and more likely to spew deadly toxins. (much more likely)















The best part about Nick's room is that he has about three acres of closet-space. This comes in handy with the baby moving in.















The Master bedroom is a little bigger than the other rooms but not by a whole lot. Still, for sleeping, it's aces!















Cute Nick-picture aside, this picture really shows the power of my photographic skills. This is the living room as it would look from the light fixture (if we had a light fixture in the living room.)














This shot shows off the spaciousness of the living room, not to mention the neighbour's house.

And this is the tree that we see when we look out the window. Trust me, it's the same tree.

Next, I'm going to post more pictures! Pictures of the house filled with our stuff!

Software Development

This one's partially for Earl. At the very least, he pretended to want to know what it is that I'm working on. Well, to appease him and the inborn desire to be understood, I will explain.

The problem is this: Pro/Engineer is the CAD software that my Engineering firm uses. It has a lot of automated things, like the creation of a PDF representation of the drawings the engineers and designers create.

There is a problem with the way that Pro/E creates the file, though. The size for the first page is automatically given to all ensuing pages. This is not a problem as long as all of the pages are the same size. We at Sperry Drilling Services use a standard letter-sized page for Bills of Material, which are generally page 2 and beyond.

So, the PDF that is generated looks like this:




What I have been doing is going through the file and finding the topmost mark and the rightmost mark made in the postscript file (which is the transitional file that Adobe takes and turns into a PDF.
I make the pagesize as large as the furthest distance right and up, and that crops the pages so that they are correct.
The next challenge is dealing with the bottom margin. I'm still working on it but it looks like I'm going to be shifting everything down as far as the distance from the bottom-most mark to the bottom of the page.
Given that the test postscript file I have is 589,000 lines long, I'm also learning a lot about the efficiency of certain algorithms.

Fun, huh?