Another One Bites the Dust

At the ripe old age of 82, Clint Eastwood, the actor who has pretensions of being a Republican, has decided it’s just jim-dandy with him if men “marry” men and women “marry” women.

His defense of himself for going over to the Dark Side is that he just doesn’t care who gets married to whom. Oh, well, Clint, that’s just great. Where should we erect your statue?

Well, you should care. It is not possible for “gay rights” and religious liberty to co-exist. The only way they can make same-sex mock-marriage stick is by either silencing Christians or forcing them to join in the orgy of moral corruption. It is not inconceivable that Bible-faithful Christians will someday be actively persecuted in this country for not going along with this abomination.

But Eastwood is only one of a whole stampeding herd of faux Republicans who have suddenly “evolved” into supporters of this satanic effort to estrange the people from their God. I only pray that God remembers, when He judges the United States, that not all of us went aboard this ship: the U.S.S. Ship of Fools.

Check Out ‘Imagination Theater’

Saturday night at our place is time for “Imagination Theater,” a cornucopia of original radio dramas (and comedies) by Jim French Productions.

We’ve been enjoying this for years. It used to be broadcast on one of our local radio stations, complete with interruptions and cancellations for stupid sports events until it was finally dropped altogether. So we listen online ( http://www.jimfrenchproductions.com ).

Our favorite series is “Sherlock Holmes” starring John Patrick Lowrie as Holmes and Larry Albert as Watson. Lowrie is something else: he does Basil Rathbone to a T. You might even think of it as Basil Rathbone imitating Lowrie.

These voice actors are really something. Imagine how hard it must be to make the character come alive without being able to use facial expressions or body movements, to impart varying degrees of emotion to your lines without hamming it up. And some of them are such vocal chameleons that you just can’t tell who was who until they give you the cast at the end of the show.

The stories themselves are pretty cool, too.

If you’re too young to have grown up in the pre-television era, in which radio was king, you may never have heard radio drama. Heck, I grew up with TV. But radio is its own art form and these plays are tremendous fun. More than any visual medium, radio engages one’s imagination. If you don’t have an imagination, you probably won’t enjoy Imagination Theater. But then if you’re that dull, you probably aren’t reading this, anyway.

Lovecraft Wasn’t Kidding

Very shortly after I posted my little review of The Shadow Over Innsmouth yesterday, I received news of the Massachusetts State Legislature‘s rush-rush, late-night passage of a “Transgender Rights and Hate Crimes Act.” The news came with photos of a crowd of ugly, coarse-featured men in dresses and lipstick thronging the State House to celebrate their victory over sanity and decency, courtesy of their state’s Democrat ruling class.

The pictures were really much worse than anything H.P. Lovecraft ever imagined.

Maybe his Innsmouth story was true. Looking at those pictures, one can’t help thinking, “This is what comes of worshiping devils and mating with fish-demons from the ocean depths.” How else could such things be?

 

A Truly Creepy Horror Story

Patty and I stayed up too late last night, listening to a BBC radio production of a dramatic reading of H.P. Lovecraft’s novelette, The Shadow Over Innsmouth.

This is one of the creepiest horror stories ever written. The narrator takes a side trip to a decaying Massachusetts seaport, Innsmouth, and winds up in a world of hurt. The whole place is rotting away, and the people are gradually turning into monsters as a result of certain pagan “religious” practices. His innocent interest in local history and architecture results in his being stalked by beings that are no longer quite human. And then it gets worse.

The BBC added a brooding musical background, and behind that are noises that you can’t quite make out, but it’s probably the inhabitants of Innsmouth chanting.

But now I know they weren’t chanting to their idols. They were merely participating in “cultural sensitivity training”!

I also understand, now, how Massachusetts came to be the way it is today.

 

Another Stupid Movie in Which a Lot of People Get Killed

Well, folks, here’s another one for you to avoid: The Happening (2008), M. Night Shyamalan‘s first R-rated film. Rated R for ridiculous. (Yikes, they think my name is hard to spell…)

Amazon customer reviewers have hanged this turkey from a lamppost. They don’t like the story, the acting, the directing–they don’t even like the music.

But I say that if you could make this movie starring Laurence Olivier and Judith Anderson, directed by Otto Preminger, written by Ben Hecht, with music by Beethoven, it still wouldn’t save The Happening. In a spirit of humanitarianism, I’ll try to spoil this movie for you so you won’t have any reason to watch it.

OK–for no apparent reason, everybody in New York starts committing suicide. It spreads all over the Northeast. We are shown one guy feeding himself to the lions at the zoo, and another feeding himself to farm equipment. It’s all supposed to be scary, but before very long, it’s just slapstick.

Why is this happening? Because Mother Gaea is really cheesed off at us, dude! Like, this disaster is only a warning of what’s gonna happen if we don’t learn how to be good little Greenies… Barf bag, please. You see, all these different plants have suddenly “evolved” this neurotoxin that makes human beings kill themselves. The plants release it into the air and it spreads on the wind. There is no defense. This is all laid out for us by a talking head at the end of the movie, in case we didn’t catch on earlier. You know your screenplay stinks when you have to plug in a talking head to tell your audience what happened. Then again, maybe Mr. Shyamalan doesn’t know that.

“Gee, mister–if this movie is so bad, why did you watch it?” I plead temporary insanity. I had no idea it’d be that awful. Leave me alone.

So once again the art of film is used to preach a load of pagan poppycock. I guess we’re supposed to worship The Planet, or else The Goddess will sic her plants on us. Better watch out for those plants, because they can magically evolve, at very short notice, one mean hombre of a neurotoxin. And then they’ll stop for a while to see if we’ve learned our lesson. Better trade in your SUV for one of those Government Motors electric doohickeys. And don’t use so much toilet paper! A dandelion might be spying on you.

 

I’m Too Radical?

I’ve been gently chided by one of my esteemed colleagues in my “Playground Player Chess Forum” (see http://www.chessgames.com ) for being “too radical” on social, political, and religious issues.

My stars. They’re out there trying to overthrow every timeless standard of truth, goodness, and morality, and I’m radical. They want to tear down and re-invent humanity’s most basic societal institutions, like marriage and the family, and I’m radical. Mr. Crawling Vermin from Utah, the media’s favorite Republican, says same-sex mockmarriage is “a conservative value,” and I’m radical. They steal a national election and allow a sham president to govern as a king, and I’m radical. They pass 2,500-page “laws” without even reading them, and I’m radical.

So be it. Amen.

Enter the Zombies

You have got to see this: on www://theblaze.com, Feb. 19, “USDA Whistleblower Speaks Out About Controversial ‘Cultural Sensitivity Training’ Seminar.”

It seems like the federal government is branching out from fantasy into horror. So here we have government employees of the Dept. of Agriculture being turned into mindless zombies for the sake of “diversity.” The Blaze has video.

Here we have some nasty skraeling coercing the USDA employees to chant garbage like, “The Pilgrims were illegal immigrants.” We wonder what he is paid for this. We also wonder what it has to do with carrying out the normal duties of a Dept. of Agriculture agent. And because these poor devils need their jobs, they obediently repeat whatever words he puts in their mouths, and all their adulthood and self-respect flies out the window. How come “diversity” always strives to erase any independence of thought?

Is this America? It looks and sounds like something out of an H.P. Lovecraft story, or maybe a scene cut from “Rosemary’s Baby.”

Let me conclude by saying only this. In all of human history, there has never been assembled such a collection of fools, liars, hypocrites, thieves, knaves, and villains as comprise the present government of our poor country.

 

 

I Almost Review ‘The Last Banquet’

How far out of the box do I dare to go? Can I review one of my own books?

Well, it needs to be done, so here goes.

The Last Banquet, Book #4 of my Bell Mountain series, is so good, even my mother likes it. Big deal, you say? You bet, says I. Just try to impress your mother sometime. I’ll bet you can’t do it. It took me almost 64 years.

I can’t tell you much about the plot. If you haven’t read the first three books, I don’t want to take the chance of spoiling them for you. Suffice it to say the story continues, and that you’ll be in for some big surprises.

You know what? This is impossible. It’s hard enough to write the books, let alone review them. I’m responsible for my own publicity, but one has to draw the line somewhere.

Video Interview

Check out this interview, with me, on AFA’s site.

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What’ll I Say Tomorrow?

I’m to be the guest tomorrow on Tim Wildmon’s “Today’s Issues” show, 10:10-10:30 a.m. Central Time, on American Family Radio, which you can listen to online at http://www.afr.net . I have not been able to train my voice to sound like Basil Rathbone’s or Charlton Heston’s, so I’ll just have to go with my own. Yeesh.

I know the topic is to be my books, the Bell Mountain series of fantasy novels. But I’ve never yet had any radio host tell me in advance what questions he or she is going to ask me, so it’ll all have to be off the top of my head. If I get caught flat-footed and have to answer “Homina-homina,” you have my excuse.

If you think being on 200 radio stations at once to speak extemporaneously about your books, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, is a no-pressure situation, just try it sometime. Me, I’ve got the heeby-jeebies.

Not knowing what the questions are going to be, I have absolutely no idea what I’m going to say tomorrow! But if I can’t talk about these books, who can?