Terrifically Important Opinions

After a week of rain I was able to get outside and hack back the jungle that had been my yard, but now contained Tarzan, Jane, Boy and Cheetah.  I kept Boy.  Everything else had to go.  It was TALL out there.

We've had the weirdest Spring.  It's been one long late April out there, overcast most days, rainy for a good third of that to a greater or lesser degree.  Things that should have been past by May are still hanging in there - but things that blossomed early got beaten to death by the precip.  I am not pleased and I will be writing letters. - well, Boy will be writing letters. - well, Boy will be standing around in his loincloth while I write letters.  Son of Tarzan grew up goooooooood.
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I have been loving William Shatners' series "Weird - or What?" on whatever serves as my television.  Is it even still a television?  It runs on the internet, I think.  You have to boop a remote to make it change channels so it's like a T.V.  OK.
Anyway, the Shat does good.  Usually he bats for the state line, but age seems to have taken the edge off his PRESENCE DAMMIT.  I am a secret 'unexplained phenomena' fiend and he gives excellent host - not too serious, very, very irreverent, and no old ground gone over (I'm talking to you, Winchester Mystery House.)  It's good to see my Captain having fun and getting his bills paid.  Yeah, I'm probably late to the ball on this one, but it's quality trash television.  Not nearly as good as Leonard Nimoys' late lamented "In Search Of" because Leonard Nimoy, but there ya go.
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The surprise winner of my science fiction Jones Award has to go to the series "Altered Carbon."  They took a very, very average book with a premise that had been done before, and better;  and turned it into a very, very addictive show with engaging characters and some honestly come-by, make ya think issues, like 'What is reality? What is personality? What is the soul? Where does memory reside? Do memories dictate the future?  Are memories enough to base a past upon?' type questions to ask yourself while all the kung fu and bloodshed is going on. Two thumbs up, a twist and a kiss, with a triple lutz and a Flying Camel.
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The shittiest offering is the series "The Rain."  If you have a baby that cries all the time and won't shut up, stick that kid in front of this slow-moving woofer and watch it pass out from sheer baby boredom.  "The Rain" consists of white people slogging through the woods, with subtitles.  I thought there was going to be some post apocalypse action going on here, but instead I got a damp, tiresome reprise of the eighteen years I spent in Oregon. 
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The very place where I used to live is now RAWK, or BBQ, or something.  CHAZ.  That's it.  The takeover down in Seattle on Capitol Hill.

I lived four blocks down from East Precinct and a more useless bunch of ballsacks could not be found.  They did nothing. Nothing.  One night our building was under siege, actual siege, by a group of home invaders that was trying to break in and kick down doors.  This was in 1984. The manager sat behind the windowed front door on a chair, holding a metal baseball bat. We tenants took turns patrolling the roof so they wouldn't climb up the fire escapes, or onto a neighboring roof and jump over to ours.  I remember taking my turn with three other people, and I had an infant in that building, you realize, and all I had was a sharpened screwdriver hoping if someone tried the jump from roof to roof, I could icepick the fucker.  We kept calling the police, and they kept not arriving.  Oh, they'd drive past - they just didn't stop.

I don't agree with defunding.  I absolutely agree with tearing it all down and starting over - from the ground up.