DShomshak

https://www.npr.org/programs/all-things-considered/
 
Analysis rather than news, but I had not heard before that Trump's legal team wants his D. C. trial televised. As observed, Trump is a creature of Reality TV and no doubt expects this would be a great way to play to his base; the legal outcome would be irrelevant.
 
But oops, Federal codes prohibit televising Federal trials. That isn't stopping major media outlets from pleading to televise the trial. It's so important! To, um, the voters, yeah, the voters need to see this. Perhaps I am cynical for thinking their real interest is more interest in viewership and ad revenues than civic service.
 
Dean Shomshak

Back when major news sites still had comment sections, any article about atheism almost always had at least one person asking "If you don't believe in God, what's stopping you from robbing, raping, and killing all the time?"
Just because you're apparently a potential serial killer only kept in check by your fear of divine punishment, that doesn't mean everyone else also lacks the ability to form an internal moral code, even though believing that might make you feel better about yourself.

Really random (and unusual) astronomical (i.e., irrelevant for just about everyone) event coming up in a few days:
 
Asteroid Leona will occult Betelgeuse the night of 11/12 December for a very brief time (up to 12 seconds) on a very narrow track from extreme south Florida, across the Atlantic, southern Spain, Sardinia, Italy, Greece, northern Turkey, and then into central Asia.  You don't have to be a pro to see it, but I suspect it is very likely to be subtle enough and brief enough that naked-eye observers, especially inexperienced ones, could see it and not notice anything.  You might hear about it after it happens, though, and there's some stray mentions in the popular media of the coming event.
 
For a very brief interval, Betelgeuse will appear to get dimmer as the asteroid passes in front of it.  It will NOT "go out", because the angular size of the asteroid is smaller than that of the star!  This is an event best recorded with a high speed movie camera + telescope; you prefer the telescope not because it's faint but because the event is brief, and the telescope makes for a small field of view so you have less confusing stuff in your view.  Also, if you aren't spang on the center of the real track (which, truth be told, we don't know precisely where that will be, not least because Betelgeuse as seen from Earth is NOT a simple circular disk!), the degree of dimming may be too small to perceive with the unaided eye.
 
That first link above is the most recent information about where the track is likely to be, but it's really terse and doesn't give much background information.  A more complete set of info is at https://iota-es.de/JOA/JOA2023_4.pdf ... the most likely track for the occultation has been adjusted since that was published, but it is MUCH more informative about the phenomenon and what's to be expected for those who aren't a pro or semipro astronomer.

Complaints, complaints.  The burning in your eyes and the throbbing headache will pass when you finish your entry.  It's supposed to be a challenge, and so it is. 
 
So here's my take on him:
 
Mangorilla's latest rampage had been going on for about ten minutes when the first superhero showed up on the scene.  The big ape-man had snatched a police car off the ground and was just starting to swing it down on the pair of officers who'd been crouched behind it when a streak of color flashed by.  A pair of red-gloved hands wrenched his improvised weapon loose in passing, setting it down gently as the super touched down a few yards away.  Staggering, the furious villain wheeled around...and stopped cold in surprise as he saw his opponent.
 
"Who the hell are you?" Mangorilla grunted, a sneer spreading across his bestial features.
 
"Hadn't really decided on that yet, but it didn't seem like the right time to worry about a supranym with lives in danger.  Let's just say I'm the guy who's going to put you back in jail."
 
"Ha!  Big talk, but I suppose you have to be pretty gutsy just to go out in public like that!"
 
"Seriously?  You're going with that?"
 
"Better get used to it until you get a better tailor.  What were you thinking with that costume?  I thought the Particolored Man was an eyesore, but you - I'll be doing you a favor beating you senseless before the news crews show up so you're not caught on camera like that."
 
The newcomer sighed as Mangorilla leapt forward, furry fists swinging - and then he stepped forward, delivered a single efficient uppercut and stepped aside as the unconscious brute collapsed in an untidy heap.
 
"Well, that could have gone worse." he thought as the police advanced warily.  "He should be out for a while, officers.  If you want I can deliver him somewhere?"
 
"Uh, no, we've got backup on the way with a containment truck and lifting equipment." the sergeant replied.  He looked askance at the unfamiliar super.  "You new at this?  I don't recognize you and that costume's...uh...pretty distinctive."
 
The hero sighed again.  "Yes, this is my first time in public.  Went through some MONITOR training when I realized I had powers, and they did a lot of testing before they figured out what I could do exactly."
 
"Well, MONITOR knows their stuff, but...did they talk to you about, y'know, PR and stuff?  That stuff's pretty important for you supers in the long run."
 
"This is about the costume, isn't it?"
 
The sergeant's partner desperately smothered a laugh.  "Well, you have to admit it's...pretty colorful.  Wait, is this one of those alien super-suit deals where you get your powers from it?  Like that schoolteacher back in the Seventies?  I didn't mean to..."
 
"No, it's not quite that simple.  But MONITOR told me not to talk about it too much, so..."
 
At that moment a news van squealed to a halt nearby, the cameraman leaping out with his rig already running.  As he swept the camera around the scene he froze as the most garishly-dressed super he'd ever seen came into his viewfinder.  And laughed.  A dark-haired reporter kicked his shin as she advanced, microphone in hand.  "Hello there. I'm Mary Morgan from TV12 news and I'd like an interview.  I'm afraid I don't recognize you, sir.  May I ask what your supranym is for the viewers at home?"
 
The hero restrained a sigh this time and looked down at his brilliantly-colored outfit, complete with that godawful belt buckle logo and the fake muscles.  Well, fine, he'd known this going to be a problem, so he might as well lean into it.  Besides, he'd always liked his dad's ZZ Top albums.
 
"Well, ma'am, you can just call me the Sharp-Dressed Man."
 
 
 
Mitch Salvatore discovered he had superpowers on Halloween night.  It was a complete accident.  His parents had never celebrated the holiday and he'd grown up without all the costumes and trick-or-treating and pumpkin-carving stuff.  But when a co-worker invited him to costume party on October 31st he'd thrown together a lame superhero costume using some gym shorts, a towel for a cape and a stupid lightning logo pinned to his chest just to fit in.  That turned out to be fortunate when a couple of muggers jumped him (and his date the Sexy Librarian) on the way to the party.  The first one broke three fingers when he punched Mitch in the nose (which remained very unbroken) and the second one broke his flip knife on that stupid paper logo like it was hardened steel.  Mitch was surprised but not dumb, and discovered he could pick two grown men up and knock their heads together without a struggle.  Also had to be careful about not cracking his girlfriend's ribs when he gave her a triumphant hug afterward.
 
It was much later that night he discovered his powers vanished when he was naked, but that's between him and the Sexy Librarian.  They also didn't seem to work when he showered and dressed the next day - until he tried pinning on his "cape" again, and then he was stronger than normal but not on par with last night, and he still nicked himself shaving.
 
Thoroughly confused, he called a 900 number for MONITOR's "superpower breakout" hotline, and within a few hours he was enrolled in their testing and training program while their experts tried to figure things out.  It wasn't long before they decided he had what they called a "psychosomatic power set" that was tied to some element of his subconscious and how it regarded his current wardrobe.  His impromptu Halloween costume had granted him "street level" hero abilities, but after some time (well, a lot - months worth) the scientists found he had a lot more potential than just that.  A whole lot more.  They eventually found that his subconscious preformed at absolute optimum when he was wearing...well, look at that image.  
 
It was almost enough to put him off the whole idea of hero work, but MONITOR could be pretty persistent with someone whose peak performance was up in the top 1% of known supers.  Mitch was eventually convinced to "do the right thing" as his trainers put it, and has begun making a name for himself as the Sharp-Dressed Man.  A silly name, and one connected to a ludicrous costume, but he's still doing good deeds and saving people from danger.
 
The Sharp-Dressed Man is a classic FISS and ranks well up in the top tier in terms of power level when he's in full costume, as well as having the ability to electrify himself at will, with voltages ranging from merely stunning to a full-on lightning bolt.  His outfit is as indestructible as he is, making disrobing him in combat fairly tricky even for those who understand his powers - which are still fairly few.  His extended testing period with MONITOR also led him to getting a lot of training time, so he's quite a bit more clued-in to how the supers community really works than most relative newbies.
 
That same testing period found that he can manifest weaker but still useful levels of power without the full costume.  A simple belt with that logo grants him about the same street-level strength and toughness as he originally manifested, as well as enough electrical generation to sting, mess up most electronics, jump-start a car or recharge his phone, although he can't fly.  Adding a domino mask almost doubles his durability and physical strength as well as speeding his reaction time, and accessorizing with red gloves (even less tacky ones) help even more.  No matter how "dressed" he is he can't seem to fly without the tights and boots, and he's not great at it unless in the full costume.
 
Perhaps not the most serious of concepts, but it's way better than getting random powers from a rotary phone dial many readers today will never have seen. 

As I've posted before: At least according to one scholar I've read, Fundamentalists/Evangelicals have a somewhat peculiar way of reading the Bible. Fundamentalism was born from reaction against the social and intellectual changes of the 19th century. Part of that reaction was to insist that the Bible was self-evidently true -- that you didn't need to spend years studying a complex text, comparing passages, parsing out meanings and considering historical contexts. Just zip through and the Truth would be irresistibly revealed... if you had the Holy Spirit in your heart. Which meant that if two people read the Bible and derived different messages and meanings, at least one did not have the Holy Spirit and was instead deceived by the Devil. One result being that deriving doctrine from the Bible became an exercise in political skill and charisma in which the text itself is no longer that important.
 
So this person claimed, anyway. I'm afraid I don't remember the author's name as this was a case of Things Found While Looking Up Other Things, and not my primary interest at the time. (IIRC I was researching Gnosticism and, yeah, this approach to the Bible is rather Gnostic -- a mystical revelation that cannot be captured and explained by reason.)
 
Dean Shomshak

And allege insults to your country's "dignity" to distract people from your government's brutality, corruption and incompetence at providing basic services. All the years of crisis and shortage the presenter mentions? All the result of Maduro's own policies.
 
Dean Shomshak

Enoch stepped out of the wall- slowly, carefully.  The aging machinery behind him had been making unpleasant noises since the Eldenwise had started them up, but as their labor increased, so, too, did the protest of the great metal beasts.  Some hummed and hissed menacingly while others creaked or chirped or simply screamed a shrill, endless cry.  Toward the end, before the room had turned inside out, the metal beasts had begun to rattle and clatter and breathe smoke-  so much worse than the dust they coughed when the Eldenwise awakened them; great black clouds of it, filled with scents Enoch had never before experienced. 
 
"This," he reasoned, "must be what the air is like without the filter."  Unconsciously, he adjusted his filtration mask and the hoses that projected from it, the hoses that increased the surface area of the filters and which collected untainted water from the air itself.    Then the room turned inside out.
 
"Almost!  Be ready!"  Yelled one of the Eldenwise.  "It will be ready soon!"  
 
Enoch began to question himself for the first time since the quest had begun.  He hafted his axe partly in habit and partly to reassure himself.  He, like all the other candidates, had been trained from birth, strengthened, and taught the ways of war and personal combat by the Eldenwise, the oldest members of the tribes, who kept alive in themselves many secrets of the past.  He had heard tales that the Eldenwise had advised the tribal chiefs since before his grandfather's grandfather's grandfather had been born, and untold years before that.
 
Always, in all tribes, the Eldenwise were the same: studious, critical, cautious, scholarly.  And every year did they come together to select the cleverest child and the strongest, fastest child from each tribe, and it was a great honor to have one of one's own children selected.  These children would be trained the rest of the lives: the brightest children would learn the mysteries of the past and other knowledge long-since dead, dead perhaps even before the Burning that poisoned the air and boiled the seas and resulted in the desert lands in which Enoch was raised.  These children would go on to become the next of the Eldenwise as their tutors aged and died.
 
The warriors had a different lot.  When they were ready- when the Eldenwise had declared them to be at the peak of their training and reflexes and the various elixirs had grown their bodies to be as durable and strong as possible, they were drawn together, and these banded brothers were ordered to fight one another, to the death.
 
The Eldenwise watched; always they watched and judged and scored and after days of sequestered discussion, they would determine if the survivor had been worthy.  "There remains only a chance for two," they have always claimed, "and that which survives tells us of a mighty warrior, beyond all human ability, and as great as the tallest of the black ruins in the valley below.  Only that warrior may pass, escorted by the brightest of the Tenderwise.  Each the other will serve, and each the other will protect to the best of their abilities."  Then they would pass judgement.  Enoch wondered how horrible it must be to turn and fight and ultimately slay men who were raised with you from childhood- men who were closer than clan: men who were your closest brothers.  Enoch shuddered as he wondered what it must be like, in a world with far-too-few people already, to have done this soul-crushing thing..., and then to be found unworthy....
 
The unworthy were allowed to return to their tribes, but so far as he knew, none ever had ever done so.  "Who could?" He wondered aloud, softly.  Those who had gone before always seemed to orefer a self-exile out into the Sands, and perhaps to the Great Glass Sea beyond that.
 
"No distractions!" Screamed one of the Eldenwise.  "The time is here!  Stay alert!"
 
Enoch stared dead ahead, the small form of the chosen Tenderwise just visible in his peripheral vision.  The Tender's eyes were beyond wide open, a look of absolute incredulity bursting through his features.  Enoch suspected his own face would look the same, if only he understood what was going on.  He had seen these strange metal forms in the ruins all his life, and had no idea that they were slumbering beasts.
 
The air in front of him simmered and glowed for a moment, and the strange metal creatures began to howl and vibrate in agony.  "We've not much tolerance, and less time!  It has to be now!" Screeched and Eldenwise.
 
"I know!" another screamed over the cacophony.  "But the power is weak!  We are _trying_!"
 
Enoch stared again at the air in front him, not knowing what to expect.  He thought again about what it must be like.  He counted himself blessed that he had not been found unworthy.  After countless years, the Eldenwise has found a warrior they believed to be worthy: a giant of a man, possessed of unparalleled strength and stamina, able to wield his axe almost faster than the eye could follow.
 
His axe.  He loved his axe.  He had been trained to love his weapon, and the ruins were scrounged for metal again and again, until the forges produced a weapon that Enoch felt was perfect for his combat style, and large and durable enough to counter blows easily-- an important distinction, as he was now charged forever with protecting the Tinderwise who was selected to travel with him.
 
The air shimmered again, and for a brief instant, he believed he saw something that was not there, but even as it caught his attention, it disappeared.  Suddenly it was back- a spot of color in his world of rust and dust and char-- and it began to grow.
 
Color.  An amazing expanse of it: green and blue and a crisp clear horizon unmuted by the all pervasive poisons of the dust.  He stilled his wonder and focused, tensing for the leap.  He gestured to the harness pack he was wearing and the Tinder obediently climbed into it and strapped himself to the giant.  Enoch himself went over everything he had been taught until he could repeat it:  one evil man split the world from its Destiny.  There was another path where that man was stopped by a great warrior and a brilliant Elden-  no; that was certainly what he was, but that was not the word they had used... A "Scientist."  A great and mighty warrior and a brilliant scientist, and a team of men and women of incredible, magic-like power.  Enoch must find this team, join them, bond with them, and when the time comes that a great evil threatens to turn the destiny of the world toward the Great Burning, he must enlist their aid and risk his life to prevent it at all costs.
 
This is why he stepped into the scene that appeared like a magic globe in the center of the room, even as the immobile roaring metal beasts themseves began to burn and die and as he heard at least two of the Eldenwise scream in agony-- he could not afford to look back, lest the chance be lost forever to the last of men.
 
"Now!" One of the Eldenwise demanded.  "It must be now!"  Enoch leaped into the alien scene that filled the center of the room and at once was surrounded by darkness.  He reached forwars with his free hand and felt a purchase- stone! A ledge of some sort.  He pulled himself forward even as his mind told,him that 'up' and 'down' were no longer relevant.  After painful effort, light shown through the lenses or his filtration mask, and he felt upon his shoulder the caress of the coolest beeeze he had ever known.  He paused and carefully turned his head to tale stock of the situation.  His head and shoulder protruded from some massive barrier of shaped stone, like those found in the ruins, but shot through with color- red with hints of gold and white and grey.  He shut down his fear, ignore his confusion, and braced himself for the exertion of pulling his weapon hand through.
 
 
Enoch stepped out of the wall-  slowly, carefully....
 
 

A remarkable system of exoplanets:
 
‘Shocked and delighted': Astronomers find six planets orbiting in resonance (msn.com)
 
(The BBC story was cringe-inducing. The presenter interviewing the scientist kept calling it a "universe" instead of a "solar system." Aargh!)
 
Dean Shomshak
I was reading about making pharmaceuticals in space back in the 1980s, in books like Stine's The Space Enterprise. Now it's happening for real.
 
https://www.marketplace.org/2023/11/29/low-earth-orbit-open-for-business-varda-space-industries/
 
Dean Shopmshak

A remarkable system of exoplanets:
 
‘Shocked and delighted': Astronomers find six planets orbiting in resonance (msn.com)
 
(The BBC story was cringe-inducing. The presenter interviewing the scientist kept calling it a "universe" instead of a "solar system." Aargh!)
 
Dean Shomshak
I was reading about making pharmaceuticals in space back in the 1980s, in books like Stine's The Space Enterprise. Now it's happening for real.
 
https://www.marketplace.org/2023/11/29/low-earth-orbit-open-for-business-varda-space-industries/
 
Dean Shopmshak

A remarkable system of exoplanets:
 
‘Shocked and delighted': Astronomers find six planets orbiting in resonance (msn.com)
 
(The BBC story was cringe-inducing. The presenter interviewing the scientist kept calling it a "universe" instead of a "solar system." Aargh!)
 
Dean Shomshak
I was reading about making pharmaceuticals in space back in the 1980s, in books like Stine's The Space Enterprise. Now it's happening for real.
 
https://www.marketplace.org/2023/11/29/low-earth-orbit-open-for-business-varda-space-industries/
 
Dean Shopmshak

This looks like one of Wile E. Coyote's designs--and looks just as certain to fail.

Oh, hey, and how could we forget Zelazny's Lord of Light and Creatures of Light and Darkness? In the former, another case of humans posing as gods using advanced technology and possibly artificial psionics. (It's been a while since I read it, but I remember one of the quasi-Hindu god-men saying that the new Agni [fire god] still has to use a flamethrower.) Plus demons who are actually the conquered energy-being indigenous inhabitants of the planet in question. Lord of Light was a big inspiration to me in designing the rival psionic aristocracies of planet Sard, mentioned upthread.
 
Creatures of Light and Darkness is harder to gauge. Some of the characters might be god-men enhanced/ascended through indistinguishable-from-magic technology. The Steel General is called out as once having been mortal. (And likewise his steed, which was once a horse.) But others...? They may, indeed, be gods.
 
Dean Shomshak

For instance, the psionic aristocracy of Marion Zimmer Bradley's "Darkover" series objectively has power that other Darkovans lack, which they maintain and strengthen through selective breeding. (With, in the planet's past, catastrophic results when the powers became too strong.) Though the distinction is not as clear-cut as the aristocrats like to believe: The lords and ladies of the Seven Domains are still all too human, which means there are by-blows and their further descendants -- an important plot point in at least one of the novels.
 
The psionic technology of Darkover also resulted in at least one relic from that catastrophic past that could evoke the psionic construct of a god that was worshiped by one of the planet's subcultures. An extremely dangerous divine/psionic construct, especially when being evoked by a group of people with, IIRC, pretty serious hang-ups of their own.
 
Dean Shomshak

Follow me for more gift ideas!
 

 

I would be very surprised if any comics creator follows fora for obscure roleplaying games. We may amuse ourselves, but I estimate the chance of affecting any existing title is approximately zero.
 
As for PCs having pets, in my Avant Guard campaign the hero Huntsman can summon a demon horse named Brimstone that carries him through the air. Written up as a Power, Huntsman is sure it's just a construct of magical energy... but wow, Brimstone, sure manages to look smug when women coo over him, pet him and try to feed him. Maybe Huntsman is projecting.
 
Dean Shomshak

I would be very surprised if any comics creator follows fora for obscure roleplaying games. We may amuse ourselves, but I estimate the chance of affecting any existing title is approximately zero.
 
As for PCs having pets, in my Avant Guard campaign the hero Huntsman can summon a demon horse named Brimstone that carries him through the air. Written up as a Power, Huntsman is sure it's just a construct of magical energy... but wow, Brimstone, sure manages to look smug when women coo over him, pet him and try to feed him. Maybe Huntsman is projecting.
 
Dean Shomshak

We stopped buying wrapping paper decades ago. We still have at least a half-dozen rolls. Maybe we'll start on them when we run out of wrapping paper re-used from past years. I figure our stock should last up to my neices' grandchildren.
 
We have all the lights we need, too. I still put up the string of lights around the door that my parents bought for their fist Christmas, at least 70 years ago. Most of the sockets still work.
 
Ornaments? HAHAHAHAHA. In addition to glass balls, strings of beads, little plastic musical instruments, and other ornaments that are older than I am, we have Christmas balls I made decades ago with Styrofoam balls covered in colorful fabric or silky thread, ribbon, beads and jewelry findings, and all the ornaments my mother received as presents when she taught preschool. We have enough for at least 3 trees.
 
We suck as consumers. But tradition? We've got tradition in spades.
 
Dean Shomshak

A nice Thanksgiving yesterday, with family. Today is Eat Leftovers Day. Also Stay Home And Don't Buy Anything Day, for I am a traitor to the American way of life.
 
Dean Shomshak
Also: So much delicious pie...
 
Dean Shomshak

Today marks the 60th anniversary of the first broadcast of Dr Who.

This is a cute game.  I refuse to do the obvious, and that snout's more gator than croc anyway, so:
 
Florida Man - The product of a botched supersoldier program using retroviral treatments to empower "volunteers" with animalistic capabilities, Florida Man is largely amnesiac about his previous life (much like fellow test subject the Mighty Bullfrog).  He's acted a shades-of-gray hero or antihero (and occasionally a villainous dupe) over the last few years as he seeks to learn more about himself and the scientists who transformed him.  As you might expect, he has superhuman strength and durability, his jaws that can bite through a steel I-beam, and can hold his breath for absurd periods of time, see in the dark, and manage some remarkable short-term bursts of speed for a brick archetype.  His blood also contains powerful antiviral and antibiotic properties and for unknown reasons doesn't trigger immune responses in most humans, making transfusions a viable cure for many infections as well as promoting regenerative healing - with only the smallest risk of passing along his "condition" and creating a new gator-human hybrid with scrambled memories.  Honest, it's probably perfectly safe.  Don't ask about She-Gator.
 
Florida Man is quick to take offense when mistaken for anything even vaguely Egyptian, and insists he's a US citizen who was born in Tampa (he thinks...) despite lack of proper ID.  Other things that annoy him are luggage jokes, asking him if he eats his meat raw ("Gross, I don't even like sushi."), and people assuming he's an idiot.  His altered physique still hasn't managed to completely obliterate that Floridian accent, although he hisses more than he used to.  He does not, in fact, like biting people at all ("You all taste terrible.  What, do you think I don't have taste buds?") and usually sticks to chomping inanimate objects as a show of force.  Cold temperatures (below freezing) make him increasingly torpid, and he'll eventually lapse into complete inactivity if exposed for long enough.  He also doesn't like salt water much, although he's not as sensitive to it as actual alligators are.
 
Those are loose swimming trunks he's wearing, not some weird foreign skirt, and lots of supers wear utility belts.  How else is he supposed to keep his phone dry?  The boots are custom jobs designed to handle his mass and amphibian lifestyle, and the weighted wristbands add a little something extra to his punches.  He might bundle up in the largest trenchcoat he can find if trying to go incognito or if it's cold out, which works about as badly as you'd expect.  If he's working with technically-minded allies they'll usually try to find him a holo-projector disguise gadget and/or some kind of personal heating field as needed, but he tends to break such things pretty quickly during brawls.