The Next Dark Age
We're in it Now
He Found the Loophole
There is only one rule for Alex when he borrows Aunt Anne’s camera. It is “No taking pictures of Aunt Anne.”
He borrowed his mother’s camera.
Evil Under the Sun
I found Evil Under the Sun, another Agatha Christie PC game, at Half Price Books. I do love that Poirot. And I haven’t read the novel yet, so I was going in pretty cold. But I needed something to get me through the Mold Exile and this was really good for killing time.
The reviews for this weren’t great. Gamespot said:
“Poirot isn’t so much a detective quizzing suspects as he is a kleptomaniacal MacGyver with a fruity moustache. He swipes rope and ladder posts from a beach to craft a bird blind needed to win the sympathies of a little girl. He steals a spatula from a chemist for the pure hell of it, somehow knowing that it will come in handy to clean mud off a cave wall at a later date.”
All true. I don’t care, I had fun. The PC goes back and forth in time with Poirot as Poirot tells the tale and PC pretends that he is Poirot and investigates. There is a contrived hint-maker called the Finger of Suspicion. But as I have said, part of the joy of buying games two years after the release is that the walkthroughs are all online.
I didn’t use them in this game as much as I did in the Dracula series. Mostly it was for things like the bird-blind, pictured and described above. I had most of the materials together, but was missing one rock.
A rock.
I also use it when I think I should be moving on to the next section and want to see what I missed, already.
Going into the big reveal at the end, I honestly did not know whodunnit, but as Poirot asks his series of questions in front of the crowd of suspects, I pulled them together pretty well. So..feeling good, but still surprised. I’ll take that.
Captain Alatriste, by Arturo Perez-Reverte
Book 31
I enjoyed Arturo Perez-Reverte’s The Club Dumas, so I picked up Captain Alatriste, which seems to be the beginning of a series. Alatriste is a 17th century Spanish swordsman who gets himself into trouble. He is also guardian to the narrator, who was 13 years old at the time of the action.
So. The constable, an old friendly acquaintance, gives Alatriste a tip on a job assignment. It involves staging a robbery of two English travelers and scaring, but not hurting them. Immediately after accepting the assignment, Alatriste is confronted by Big Church Inquisition guy, who pays him more and says he wants the two travelers dead.
In the middle of the big ambush, something makes Alatriste abort the mission and get the Englishmen to a safe place. So now he is in trouble with the Inquisition.
The Inquisition scares me.
From the narrator, who is writing many years after the fact, we know that Alatriste survives this adventure. But that didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be some kind of torture involved, which is not what I want to see in my adventure stories. I stuck with it.
While there are moments of action, I felt that the book was more of a set up for a series. Character development was good. Supporting characters were introduced. The character of Spain itself was explained. Ooh, wait. Tangent.
When I was in Spain several years ago (I might have made the observation in Portugal, but that is beside the point), I was marveling to my dad about how odd I found the country’s sense of history. My cowboy-American perception is that the country acknowledged that its glory days were four centuries in the past. And the country was fine with that. I was reminded of that by a line in the book:
“She may still have been powerful and feared by other nations, but she was touched with death in her soul.”
Can you see an American saying that America was touched with death in her soul?
Anyway. The book was a lot of set up. The narrator’s first infatuation, an eleven year old girl we know is doomed to screw him up his whole life through. The Italian, who was a partner in the aborted mission – now a lifelong enemy of Alatriste. And let’s not forget the old Gang at the Tavern.
It was all good fun and good writing, but the end was rather anti-climactic. To go comic book speak, it must be an “origin piece”. I could probably give the sequel a go.
Driving While Distracted
You might be aware that I can pontificate about fools behind the wheel all day. Back in my day, we were taught how we might identify a drunk driver:
- Driving very slowly
- Weaving in and out of the lane
We were taught to hang back and get away from these people. Of course, I always preferred to pass them up, if at all possible. Whatever.
These days, if someone is driving very slowly and weaving in and out of the lane, take a look. I actually counted and of the last 10 times I have seen a clearly distracted driver, eight times the driver was talking on a cell phone. One was an old man that literally had oxygen tubes coming out of his nose. The last was just a middle aged guy in a BMW.
MSN has reported something we all knew..it doesn’t matter if you are hands free or not. Although the reporter calls cell phone drivers out for speeding. Hm. Anyway, here was the point:
We should be shocked and appalled that a seven-year-old recommendation by National Highway Transportation and Safety Administration that drivers not use cell phones — not even hands-free — only surfaced Tuesday.
She is blaming the “long reach of the cell phone industry”, for the fact that the safety advocates are getting nowhere.
So please, please do your part. Put down the phone and drive the car.
Conversations with Kiwi
This afternoon, Kiwi the Grey said the words “Holy crap”. To my mother. I was bragging about it on Facebook when I remembered that Wednesday morning, I was at work and my mother, Kay, e-mailed me from the hotel. She sent the details of a conversation:
Kay: Stupid slow computer. I could walk to the office to get the answer faster than I can get it online.
Kiwi: Do you have a problem?
Kay: Yes, Kiwi.
Kiwi: Do you have to poop?
Kay: ROFL
I’m still not sure where she might have picked up the phrase “Do you have a problem”, but still. Conversation. Coincidentally, I had a conversation with her that morning:
I had opened her (travel) cage door, but she stayed in the cage while I was in the bathroom. I don’t think she could see me because the door is half closed.
Kiwi: Hello?
Me: Good morning.
Kiwi: Do you have to go upstairs?
Me: No, we are staying downstairs here.
Kiwi: Do you have to poop?
Me: No, I don’t.
Kiwi: Are you ok?
Me: Yes, I am ok. Thanks.
I don’t know whether she really understands what she is saying, or if she is just saying things that she thinks will get a response. But it sure sounds funny.
To bad you can never get these things recorded.
Operation SporeKill
They are down to washing every surface of every object on two levels of my house. It is only two because the upstairs was sealed off. I didn’t dare to go inside, so all I could manage was this picture that came out as creepy as it felt to me, although it looks to dark to be translating well here. This is my front hallway leading to the staircase:
This will take 3-4 days. Sound like a long time? Think about your kitchen. When was the last time you removed every object from the cupboards to wash them? Every dish, every mug, every towel. Every pen in the junk drawer.
Back at the hotel, the pets seem to have adjusted. They each took about 24 hours. Spooky had the worst of it. He came with me on Sunday and stayed in my room. Tuesday morning, I took him to my mother’s room while I went to work. When I came back, he had decided to stay with her. Except that she changed rooms on Wednesday. Poor cat doesn’t know if he is coming or going. But so far, he hasn’t taken it out on the carpet. I believe he is under the bed right now. This was from the first night. He still isn’t looking me in the eye.
Shadow is a very amiable dog, but on his first day, Mom was at work, which messed him up. On his second day, the landscapers came and he went crazy. But the biggest drama, and biggest mess, is made by Kiwi. I made her go back into her carrier to eat because the crumbs are too much for me. Sorry for the glare.
I have laundry to do and Rich and Karen are getting married tomorrow and this is not a great time for me to be taking off work and now I’m just whining so I think I’ll go read a book. Or play Diner Dash.
Sepulchre, by Kate Mosse
Book 30
On Day One of the Horrific Hotel Experience of 2009, I finished Sepulchre, by Kate Mosse. Mosse wrote the rather popular Labyrinth, which I would describe as The DaVinci Code for girls. Sepulchre is another DaVinci Code for girls. In fact, when I found it at Half Price Books, I read the back, saw the name of the city Rennes le Bains and groaned. But, then. It looked like it was about some creepy tarot thing, rather than a Holy Grail thing so I went for it.
The stipulation is that the Holy Grail thing was a big hoax to draw attention to Rennes le Chateau when the real Visigoth treasure was buried in Rennes le Bains. Sauniere, the priest, was featured with the back story that his townie contemporaries figured he had found the treasure and didn’t ask any questions since he was spending all the cash on improving the church and some other good local stuff.
I always appreciate when there was no great ancient mystery at all, and it is just about the money. Although I should add that I rather like the idea that Mary Magdalene was the wife and ran off with a kid.
Mosse’s style (in this book as well as the last) is to bounce back in forth in time between the old mystery during Sauniere’s time and the present day mystery with the ghost that requires some redemption. The tarot cards summon the devil.
I was not entirely impressed with either heroine. For one thing, I saw no reason for either woman to summon the devil just to kill the crazy mortal man standing in front of her. Seriously. Just to save your own ass, you are going to summon the devil? What kind of heroine are you? Also, I was not exactly frightened by the summoning of the devil. Seems that it should have been scarier.
There weren’t a whole lot of surprises in general.
Having said that..it was an easy, fun read.
More About Used Books Stores
MSN had an article in City Guide about the best used book stores that validated an observation I had regarding the library’s Amazon site:
What do used bookstores want to buy? “The past 12 months of bestsellers are usually in high demand, but it falls apart with mass-produced authors,” says Sherar. “With Stephen King, hundreds of thousands of copies hit the market simultaneously. They all get gobbled up, read within a week and then dumped on the market, which makes the used price collapse.”
One sure thing: “There’s always a need for classics like Faulkner, provided they’re in reasonably good shape,” says Sherar.
People are looking for a bargain, and the market floods pretty quickly. A new hardcover that we list for $8 or $10 might sell right away, or it might end up sitting for ninety days (until the listing expires) as the going rate plummets down to a penny.
The purpose of the article was to do a “Best in the US” for used book stores. Faulkner House Books in New Orleans is listed, as the more high brow store of the bunch. As I’ve said, I really enjoy visiting the many library used book sales in the area, as well as Half Price Books. I have so many unread books that even at Half Price Books I have resolved to browse only the clearance section for books that I can pick up for a dollar or two. For example, my current read was first published in hardcover in 2007. I picked up the trade paperback for a dollar.
I am wondering if perhaps the economy is making people sell more of their books? But then why are they buying new releases in the first place? Or perhaps the Kindle is messing with the lifecycle?
Anyway. It is definitely a buyer’s market now.
New Home for the Fish
My brother’s contribution to the great Mold Removal Project of 2009 was to take in the fish. They were actually his fish, anyway: he left them at the house when he moved out. Seven years ago.
The one in front is, in fact, a good ten years old. I just learned yesterday that his name is Raphael. Raphael is about twice the size that anyone remembered. Apparently he likes to spend his day hiding under things. My nephew, Alex, is calling the other two “the jaguar fish”. I am thinking their scales remind him of the jaguar on the Diego cartoon. I don’t argue with the boy. Except about football.
I brought the castles and the bridge. Alex picked out the Sponge Bob toy that you can just barely see peeking in from the right hand side of the picture. I guess that fish like Sponge Bob toys.
Update
Kiwi the Grey is boarding at the rescue. I took her in on Monday and she no longer finds it amusing. I plan to go in every day after work to give her the medicine, but today was my regular day to volunteer, anyway. She is displeased.
We have taken Shadow the Dog and Spooky the Cat to get tested for aspergillus antigens.
The work is starting on Monday and we have reservations at a local hotel that takes pets. I realize that I am not supposed to declare these things on the Internet, but anyone that wants to rob my house will have to break into a toxic waste zone to steal my 21 year old big screen TV.
Knock yourself out.
…
In other news, I called my allergist to whine that I am still reacting to my allergy shots. The nurse informed me that the doctor is on leave because he was in a bike accident. Broke his hip and his femur.
So then I had to shut up and count my blessings. That, I guess, is the lesson for the day.
The Next Dark Age 