Happy Cinco de Mayo

Happy Christmas Mornings, Again

happy birthday edward

love is a place
& through this place of
love move
(with brightness of peace)
all places

yes is a world
& in this world of
yes live
(skilfully curled)
all worlds

E.A.P. at 200

Today is Edgar Allen Poe's 200th birthday. I've not much to say about the man himself except that I respect him in the same regards as did jack Torrence: as America's greatest hack. Other than that, I love him.



For the sports fans among our readers here is a great Poe-centric projection of the Baltimore Ravens's season.

Earlier this morning if you felt a presence around you it wasn't Mr. Poe, he was busy elsewhere- at a seance in Richmond (or at least that's what some where hoping.)

For the creative types who like Poe could benefit from a friend maybe this will help you through those cold and unforgiving nights.

Or, if you'd rather just have a laugh, as always the people at Uncyclopedia have what can only be considered the definitive biography of Poe.~

"Edgar Allan Poe, being a 'preemie' man himself, wrote many essays containing explicit premature ejaculation references, one of which was naturally entitled The Premature Ejaculation. In addition, he wrote a self-help essay, Thou Art the Man to assist the community men in maintaining their pride. Edgar Allan Poe's face is still featured on many commercial condoms and is sometimes viewed as a thwart against prematurely spunkin' it. The catchphrase typically labled on the condom reads, 'How they tingle, tingle, tingle, In the icy air of night!'"

Finally a terrific cartoon from the 1950s adapted from Poe's classic The Tell Tale Heart narrated by Humbert Humbert.  


If you're still interested in EAP after this little round up I suggest tonight that you open a bottle of wine and a good book while you settle in for a relax evening with all your friends a family who happen to be suffering from tuberculosis.  Enjoy.

Also of special note today is Martin Luther King Jr. Day. I am entirely grateful to the man and his legacy- much more than I am to Edgar Allen Poe's. I hope you all have a great day and have a chance to watch the Inauguration tomorrow.

Ackbar for Christmas

Merry Christmas form my mom. The Amigurumi (or crocheted doll) below was made by her.

"We have no choice General Calrissian! Our cruisers can't repel cuteness of this magnitude!"

After she'd completed my Cthulhu, the pattern for which came from Creepy Cute Crochet, she asked me for a gift idea for my girlfriend. And of course I thought who is there better to immortalize in amigurumi than my second favorite aquatic killing machine, Admiral Ackbar, the true hero of the Rebellion. After some quick interwebing I found that an amigurumi of Ack already existed, however the pattern did not. Lucky my old lady's a wiz and whipped one up in no time herself.
She also had time to make Matt his own Cthulhu, who is slightly more menacing due to his longer and larger tentacles. I'm working on a pattern to make an even better Cthulhu so if anyone has any ideas of what might make a creature of unspeakable horrors like Cthulhu more unspeakably horrible please try and find someway to articulate it in the comments. Also, if you have any other ideas of who or what might make a nice Amigurumi let us know.

Here's a delightful little song that Matt's girlfriend Stef (of Snowden's Secret) wrote about his new Cthulhu-

"Who had a head that is full of fluff?

C'thul-lu, C'thul-lu!

Who has beans up in his butt?

C'thul-lu, C'thul-lu!"

Thanksgiving

Greatest Halloween Songs

Halloween is almost upon us, and you all know what that means... yes, hearing Monster Mash until your ears bleed. While, I won't deny that I enjoyed the song as a kid, and that it is catchy, I've had my fill of Monster Mash for this lifetime. So, we here at BSD have attempted to compile a few song to replace it. The first seven songs were picked by me, the last eight by Caleb...

I Put a Spell on You by CCR
Why it rocks: While not really all that relevant to the topic, I'll admit... it does talk about magic. The real reason this is on the list is because of the pounding, incessant music and the growling cries of Foggerty.
Scariest/creepiest line:
I put a spell on you, because you're mine.

Witchy Woman by the Eagles
Why it rocks: Sure, it's an obvious pick, and not one of my favorite Eagles song, but you can't deny that it fits here. The music is wailing enough to be creepy, and while the lyrics seem a bit contrived at times, there are some nice lines.
Scariest/creepiest line:
Crazy laughter in another room
And she drove herself to madness with a silver spoon.

Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin
Why it rocks: Perhaps overplayed to the point of having lost all meaning for most people, it was always one of my favorite songs growing up. The music in undeniably creepy and sad, the theme of death permeates the entire song.
Scariest/creepiest line:
Your head is humming and it won't go,
In case you don't know,
The piper's calling you to join him

Banshee Song by Gob
Why it rocks: Well... it's about a Banshee, and love... or something. I'm sure that's a metaphor for something, but... Banshees! Another very creepy melody and obviously Halloweeny lyrics.
Scariest/creepiest line:
I am every waiting
You are out there wailing

Mr. Crowley by Ozzy Osbourne
Why it rocks: Organ music, lyrics about the craziest motherfucker in Victorian England, and Ozzy Osbourne... can't get much scarier than that. I'd like to see Ozzy sing this to Alistair Crowley's corpse... that would make a damn good concert, actually.
Scariest/creepiest line:
Mr. Crowley, what went on in your head,
Mr. Crowley, did you talk to the dead.

Lady in Black by Uriah Heep
Why it rocks: Solemn, but with a nice beat. The lyrics are almost spit out and the refrain is replaced simply by a moaning wail by the only band (that I know of) named after a Dickens character.
Scariest/creepiest line:
And I begged her give me horses to trample down my enemy,
So eager was my passion to devour this waste of life.

Werewolves of London by Warren Zevon
Why it rocks: Without a doubt my favorite Halloween song. It's oddly upbeat for the subject matter, but the music has just a tinge of creepiness to mitigate that fact. Quirky, fun and violent, what is more Halloweeny than that? Ahoooooooooo!
Scariest/creepiest line:
I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand,
Walking down the streets of Soho in the rain.

Ice Cream Man by Tom Waits
Why it rocks: The sheer eeriness of this song gets me every time. The twang of the bells and the melodic chimes in the song’s opening are hypnotizing and the melodic sexual innuendos in the lyrics are a virtual Pied Piper’s pixie song of Humbert Humbert or Pennywise.
Scariest/creepiest line:
I got a cherry Popsicle right on time
A big stick, mamma, that'll blow your mind

I Hear the Rain by the Violent Femmes
Why it rocks: A slightly quicker (and slightly creepier) funeral dirge than we’re used to.
Scariest/creepiest line:
Burry me out on a lone prairie.
Friendly calls of the coyote.

Thriller by Michael Jackson
Why it rocks: Three of the greatest words in horror cinema: Vincent Price voiceover. Price did for terror what John Waters did for homosexuality in a way Hitchcock and Castle could only dream of.
Scariest/creepiest line:
Creatures crawl in search of blood
To terrorize your neighborhood.

Bela Lugosi's Dead by Bauhaus
Why it rocks: Tragic and romantic, just like Dracula, just like Lugosi.  
Scariest/creepiest line:
The count,
Bela Lugosi’s‘s dead,
Undead undead undead.

Hybrid Moments by The Misfits
Why it rocks: It wasn't easy choosing just one Halloweeny non-Halloween song by the Misfits- there are too many to choose from. Hybrid Moments captures the feeling of fleeting fun which Halloween carries with it the older I get.  
Scariest/creepiest line:
If you’re gonna scream, scream with me.

Weird Scene by Mr. Brown
Why it rocks: For a very long time I had no idea what this song was. I heard it on Little Steven’s Underground Garage while driving to Grand Rapids, MI on Halloween in 2006. It has since become one of my favorite songs and supplement to Ray Bradbury’s classic Halloween short story The Homecoming.
Scariest/creepiest line:
Uncle Billy’s always locked away inside the shed
He’s got these little marks along the right side of his head
Says he got them swimming with the dolphins in the sea
He is the favorite uncle of the weirdest family.

Discover Mr Brown!

Goosebumps Theme
Why it rocks: This song still sends a shiver down my spine. When I was young this show scared me more than the X-Files did because it could keep my attention, was fully comprehendible, and this song. The strings are like knives and the piano is like the forest in Hansel and Gretel.
Scariest/creepiest line:
Viewer beware, you’re in for a scare.

Ride of the Valkyries by Richard Wagner
Why it rocks: This song is a Halloween hold over from my parents.  I'm used to when hearing this song being told about how for the first few Halloweens my parents lived together they would set up speakers on the windowsill of there flat and play it all day long until trick-or-treating was over or the church down the street from them asked that it be turned off.
Scariest/creepiest line:
“All that listening to Wagner makes me wants to invade Poland”
~ Oscar Wilde on Wagner

by Matt&Caleb

Back from the Banned

Hiya folks.  Yesterday marked the end of the ALA's (American Library Association) Banned Book Week 08.  This is late and I hadn't planned on doing anything at all about it this year bug with the low coverage I've experienced around the event I figured late was better than never.  

I was overjoyed when while visiting a local small business book store this past week to see the shelves filled with a scattering of historically challenged and banned books on display each accompanied by a note card describing the specific case.  Among these books were classics like The Catcher in the Rye, Leaves of Grass, and Of Mice and Men.  

The ALA's website has a list of the Ten Most Challenged writers of 1990-2004.  If you haven't the time to read their disgusting and obscene trash have no fear, BSD is happy to offer the condensed gist of their grossest of works.

1. Alvin Schwartz

2. Judy Blume

3. Robert Cormier

4. J.K. Rowling

5. Michael Willhoite

6. Katherine Paterson

7. Stephen King

8. Maya Angelou

9. R.L. Stine

10. John Steinbeck

As for me I spent my weekend relaxing with a bit of Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, the cheeky fucker.

"Well, the kids have to learn about Tek Wars sooner or later."

CML

Independence Day

Happy Fourth, everyone. I hope you have a great weekend shooting off fireworks, grilling and being outside. Me? Well... I'm going to be working at the movies. Not that I really mind all that much. I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has dreamed of freedom and put it ahead of the illusion of security.

Oh... and watch out for those Daleks.

Halloween, Part one

When I was young, very young, I dressed up as Superman for every Halloween. Understand though that when I saw “ young” I mean before Superman suits had fake muscle chest, but also before I had memories. When I was young and all of my thoughts were framed through my father's camera and slid projector I dressed as Superman for Halloween. I do have one genuinely honest memory from those Halloweens though, I remember my mother knelling down in front of me and pulling my curl down over my forehead, just like Superman’s.

We were in the hallway of our old house, at the bottom of the stairs, standing on the long rug that ran between the bathroom and the playroom. The bathroom shone a glorious white. White lighting, and yellow light bulbs and white, slick, smooth, cold porcelain tiles glared out of the bathroom and into the halls and out all the windows of the house. I doubt it was late enough at night for it to be dark out, even for a night in late October, but in my memories it was pitch black outside.

After years of being the man of steel my curl would evolve, transform me, straighten and lengthen itself, pressed down to my forehead with my brothers hair gel, a tight widows peak, an orange devilock draping down my little Halloween melon head. For many years I put on a new cape, black and red replacing gold and blue, that I tied tight around by throat, damp with sweat and rain all October. For a month I lived as a little Dracula child, hiding under beds and behind trees, falling end over end into piles of leaves, stealing away with lengths of rope to hang bodies from trees and build giant spider’s webs. Halloween would transform me too, evolve me, turn me into little beasts, raise me from the dead, turn my face whiter and my blood redder, and let me walk out at night, set lose, a full fledge vampire sucking down sugar and ready to eat the black out of the sky, to unhang the moon and drop it in my pillow case like some treat I’d claimed as mine that night.

For a long time I spent Halloween with my best friend, my brother, Jake. Jake was my best friend from one Halloween to the next, not because he was my brother, or because for years he was the only other person in life I knew besides my parents, but because he was exciting. Jake was what Halloween was supposed to be: trouble. Lots and lots of trouble. Once in a psychology class someone asked me where I learned what it meant to be a boy from and my first thought was that no one has ever taught me more about getting into trouble than my brother, the kid who taught me what it was to be a boy growing up, who through torture and demonstration showed me how to hurt people, hide things, steal junk, dig holes and run from anyone. My older brother Jake showed me not only how to be a monster on Halloween, but how to be a terror every other day of the year too.



...to be continued.

Caleb Michael, ghoul

Happy Black History Month

...from all your pals here at BSD.

CML, Black Manta Historian

New Year's Promises

Since Caleb recently went over our first year, I figured with New Year's Day coming soon, I'd share with you a couple of resolutions for BSD for the year double aught eight.

First, I'd like to say that I have a few posts of substance planned and they will be coming out fairly soon (most likely after the first).

In addition, we promise to give you more Star Wars, Superman and sleepy Dr. Robotnik's.

There will also be more content about T.Rex, unicorns and Guy Fawkes.

Lastly, I'd just like to say that BSD will be here in another year and hopefully just as good as it has been.

Any suggestions, just leave us a comment or send an e-mail.

Happy Christmas Mornings

Here's hoping you're all have a super funk christmas morning and a golden holiday. There are one or two presents still under the tree, maybe a bb gun in the back yard, and some ham somewhere, or maybe a cooked duck, which means it must be christmas. So, to all of you who lasted through the night, merry christmas from Blast Shields Down. Now get off the computer and spend some time with somebody somewhere; and we'll see you in a few days.



CML

The Great Red Ape

From all of us here at BSD, we'd like to wish you all a Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Festivus, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, a Miserly Celebration of Capitalism and whatever else. Hope your holidays are going as good as mine.



Now the Cybernetic Ghost of Christmas Past will tell you the story of Christmas...

Robot: THOUSANDS OF YEARS AGO, before the dawn of man as we knew him, there was Sir Santa of Claus, an ape-like creature making crude and pointless toys out of dinobones and his own waste, hurling them at chimp-like creatures with crinkled hands regardless of how they behaved the previous year. These so-called "toys" were buried as witches, and defecated upon, and hurled at predators when wakened by the searing grunts of children. It wasn't a holly jolly Christmas that year. For many were killed.

Frylock: Well, that still doesn't tell me why you--

Robot: I'm not finished. YOU should have gotten a snack. A war-like race of elves from the Red Planet landed on the ice-encased Earth, and they were immediately enslaved by the unevolved Santa Ape to make his confused toys using galactic elfin technology. Toys were made into recognizable shapes and given names like "train," but these toys were also thrown at predators and defecated upon because they were so stupid. Christmas still sucked, in a big way.

Cupcake

Blast Shields Down has made it to 100 posts. So, in honor of the event this post will have to stand as our piece of congratulatory pie, our little cupcake. It hasn’t even been a year yet and I already feel older.

Matt and I would like to thank all of you who have ever read anything here on Blast Shield Down. Whether you were misdirected here looking for pornography, share our strange interest in super heroes and star wars, or were simply repeatedly given a link by Biasman or myself, thank you for reading. This post seems kind of over shadowed by the recent State of the Blog, and our oncoming anniversary, but still, here’s to BSD.

Here is to 100 posts of Love and Breasts,
of Monsterous Fears and Childhood Dreams,
of Lex Luthors and Wilford Brimleys,
of Star Ship Captains and Draculas,
of Video Games and Cartoons,
and giant white whales.

They wouldn’t let Matt and I get hitched and have a baby, so we created BSD instead. And, I love it everyday, and I know Matt does too, like two mothers love a child, or C3-PO loves R2-D2 . More than you’ll ever understand, this is a part of us, it’s something we’re trying to make, meanings in things that aren’t there, purposes and reasons we'd hoped could help us understand who and what and why we are. BSD is what we wish were true, even if it really isn’t.   So, thank you all so much for being a part of it. I’d like to think that if you weren’t here I’d still write, but I know it wouldn’t be the same, and none of this would matter the way it does now at 100. So thank you.

And, here’s a little cupcake for you, and us, and BSD too.

Caleb Michael, co-writer, co-creator, and co-mother of Blast Shields Down

Finals, Kwanzaa, and a poem

Finals are over. Frosty the Snowman is a bitch. And there are less than two weeks until Kwanzaa.  Excited yet?

To wrap this up, here is part three of the star wars content. It's a poem, which kind of breaks some unspoken BSD rules, but it's about star wars and love, and I know that at least Matt and the girl I wrote it for liked it.

A Star Wars poem for Higgy:

You shut down the trash compactors on my detention level.

That is to say, you take my breath away.

And maybe I just want to be your Bothan spy, 

Climbing in your AT-ST,

Hoping we’ll drive home together tonight,

Back to Echo Base or Yavin IV.

And it makes me smile.

No, 

I’m not saying that you are the

Comforts of a Tauntaun.

But you do have the warmness of one.

And a certain bluish glow,

Like Obi-wan on Dagobah.

I’ll sit and watch twin suns with you,

Waiting on Tatooine.

I’ll make the Kessel Run to you,

In less than12 parsecs with 1.21 gigawatts.

And through the haze of snow and sand storms,

Or the clouds of Bespin

I’ll follow you

Like a Tuskan Raider

Would their Bantha.

You found me like a probe droid,

Hit me like a wamprat,

Loved me like an Alderaanian.

And so, I don’t have a bad feeling about this,

Because I think you’re the droids I’m looking for.

So lets party like ewoks,

Live like Rebels, die like Wookies,

And love like only Hoth will ever let us.

(edit)

Caleb Michael, played

Thanksgiving

Well... football was watched, turkey was consumed and now I'm ready to recline and ride out this tryptophan induced hangover until I'm knocked out of it by some sort of phone call.

So, Happy Thanksgiving everyone! And let's just all be thankful that Ben Franklin's proposal to make the turkey the national bird failed.

Happy Guy Fawkes Day

Okay, first off, I really hate usurping Caleb's day of posting, but I had to... So, skip this and go read Caleb's post which is right below this one. Do it, now.

Back?

Alright... It's Guy Fawkes Day, a day that commerates the attempt by a group of Catholics to blow up Parliament while all the politicians and King was there, or it commerates the foiling of the plot... I can never remember. Who cares?

Anyhow, it's an awesome day. Go watch V for Vendetta or something.

I want that hat

"Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot,
I know of no reason
Why Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, t'was his intent
To blow up King and Parliament.
Three-score barrels of powder below
To prove old England's overthrow;
By God's providence he was catch'd
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, let the bells ring.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!"

Crappy Halloween Costumes

Since today is Halloween, I decided that I would give a little advice, and generally be an asshole on the topic of Halloween costumes. None of these rules apply for little kids, let them be whatever the fuck they want, but for anyone going to Halloween parties (admission is usually cheaper with a costume) here are some costumes to not wear. I also realize that it's way too late to change your costume, but maybe if you picked any of these, you should just stay home.


The Ghost:

Come on... it's a friggin' bed sheet. Did you just pull it off your little bunk there? There aren't even any eye holes on the thing. This is good for scaring your roommate after he comes home at four am from a drinking binge, but not as a costume. How lazy are you? If you're going the lazy route, really go with it... wear an OSU shirt and say you're going as a retard or an asshole or something.

Disclaimer: Wearing a bed sheet with a bunch of random holes cut in it does not count as lame.

Poor Charlie Brown

The Pirate:

Is that a feather or a sword?

Pirate used to be a fine costume, because who doesn't love pretending to be a bloodthirsty plunderer and murderer, but it's way overused now. I'm not even talking just on Halloween, ever since Pirates of the Caribbean came out, pirates are all anyone ever talks about. If you want to loot things, be a Viking or a Hun or something.

Disclaimer: This does not apply to attractive girls pirate costumes. They can wear anything that they want... well, except for our next costume...

The Pumpkin:I'm a tool!

Um... yeah... Do I even have to write about this atrocity? She looks like a pumpkin cookie, or something.

Hobo:

A flannel shirt, raincoat and a bottle of liquor do not constitute a Halloween costume, nor does not shaving or showering for a week. This is a good idea, however, if you want to sleep on the bus and not be bothered or if you want to scare little children away from your box. However, if you want to look absolutely insane... definitely go for the 1920s crazy hobo clown costume...


Well, that's all... next up: What not to Eat on Thanksgiving.