__________________
Into terror!,  Into valour!
Charge ahead! No! Never turn
Yes, it's into the fire we fly
And the devil will burn!
- Scarlett Pimpernell

2 very short songs that I think will act like low powered cantrips.  "we will wash it" and "we will mend it" by the bagpuss mice.  I see them as coping with small tasks such as cleaning and mending clothing

I finish with the slightly longer "Music is Magic" from the original Jem cartoon series.  I see it as a meta song. My thoughts are it either grants someone else the ability to copy Doug's song gift for 1 song or it makes a non-power song into a power song.

Mark

In 2005, Sesame Street created a then-new Muppet: Donald Grump, "a Grouch who has more trash than any other Grouch in the world (and often brags to others about it)" according to the Muppet Wiki. One of the things Donald Grump announced he was going to do was to build a swamp in one night.

This week, Trump announced plans to cut funding for the Corporation for Public Broadcasting.

Now we know what Trump meant by "draining the swamp."

I knew he's thin-skinned, but I didn't know that he was so petty as to put early-childhood education for millions of disadvantaged children at risk.

Live stream

__________________
Into terror!,  Into valour!
Charge ahead! No! Never turn
Yes, it's into the fire we fly
And the devil will burn!
- Scarlett Pimpernell

Spoken: 
And after three days of drinking with Larry Love, I just get an inkling to go on home.  So I'm walking down Coldharbour Lane, head hung low, 3 or 4 in the morning, the sun's coming up and the birds are out singing.  I let myself into my pad, wending my way up that spiral staircase and stretch out nice on the chesterfield.  Pithecanthropus Erectus is already on the CD player, and I just push that remote button for sublimity.  And I listen to the sweet sculptural rhythms of Charles Mingus.  And J.R. Monterose and Jackie McLean duet on those saxophones and the sound makes its way out of the window, mingling with the traffic noises outside, you know, and all of a sudden I'm overcome by a feeling of brief mortality.

'Cause I'm getting on in the world, coming up on forty-one years, forty-one stony, gray steps towards the grave -- you know, the box awaits its grisly load and I'm gonna be food for worms. And just like Charles Mingus wrote that beautiful piece of music "Epitaph" for Eric Dolphy. I say "so long Eric, so long John Coltrane and Charles Mingus, so long Duke Ellington and Lester Young, so long Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald, so long Jimmy Reed, so long Muddy Waters, and so long Howlin' Wolf.

Sung:
You woke up this morning
Got yourself a gun,
Mama always said you'd be
The Chosen One.
She said: You're one in a million
You've got to burn to shine,
But you were born under a bad sign,
With a blue moon in your eyes.

You woke up this morning
Now all that love has gone,
Your Papa never told you
About right and wrong.
But you're looking good, baby,
I believe you're feeling fine, (shame about it)
Born under a bad sign
With a blue moon in your eyes.
So sing it now:

Woke up this morning (oh yeah, oh yeah)
Woke up this morning (oh yeah, oh yeah)
Woke up this morning (oh yeah, oh yeah)
Woke up this morning (oh yeah, oh yeah)

You see, you woke up this morning
The world turned upside down, (Lord above)
Thing's ain't been the same
Since the Blues walked into town.
But you're one in a million
'Cause you've got that shotgun shine. (Shame about it)
Born under a bad sign,
With a blue moon in your eyes.
So sing it now:

Woke up this morning
You got a blue moon, you got a blue moon in your eyes (so sad, goddamn, a goddamn shame)
Woke up this morning
You got a blue moon, you got a blue moon in your eyes (oh yeah, oh yeah)

Oh yeah
Oh yeah

Mr. D. Wayne Love:
When you woke up this morning everything was gone.
By half past ten your head was going ding-dong.
Ringing like a bell from your head down to your toes,
Like some voice telling you there was something you should know.
Last night you were flying but today you're so low -
Ain't it times like these make you wonder if you'll ever know
The meaning of things as they appear to the others;
Wives, mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers.
Don't you wish you didn't function,
Don't you wish you didn't think
Beyond the next paycheck and the next little drink
Well you do so make up your mind to go on,
'Cause when you woke up this morning everything you had was gone.

Woke up this morning,
When you woke up this morning,
Woke up this morning,
You woke up this morning
You wanna be, you wanna be the Chosen One.
Yeah you know it
Just can't help yourself

Woke up this morning,
When you woke up this morning,
Woke up this morning,
You woke up this morning and
You got yourself a gun.
You got yourself a gun.
You got yourself a gun.

(Oh yeah)
-- Alabama 3, "Woke Up This Morning (Theme to The Sopranos)"

-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

Feeling Thiborish of late.  So this.  To be completed.
“Okay. Am giving up. You win.”
Thibor managed from between clenched teeth. He took a step back, his
huge chest rising and falling in an obvious effort not to flee
screaming.

“We haven't fought yet.” His
opponent looked perplexed; or at least what passed for perplexed on
the beaked face of a twelve foot tall bipedal triceratops.

“Is not ruining it.” Thibor
continued. “Am still holding on to rapidly fleeing fantasy that
will not actually have to touch you. Please is not taking this away
from me.”

* * *

“Papa! Papa!” A blonde missile hit
his knee in a fashion that immediately convinced Thibor that his
daughter was not made, as were other little girls, of sugar and spice
and everything nice, but rather industrial strength rubber bands,
rhinoceroses, and farrier's anvils. Little Liesel used his momentary
stagger to climb up to his shoulders, her small, freakishly strong
hands grabbed handfuls of his shirt and the chest hair underneath;
the reinforced fabric of the shirt held out far better than the hair.

“Liesel. Gentle.” Thibor warned
as his daughter hugged his head from behind, arms around his
forehead, legs around his neck. “Urrrk!”

“Auntie Charcoal said you fought
dinosaurs today!” Liesel enthused, “Danger! Danger! Tell me all
about it!”

Managing to unwind the squirming five
year old and hold her out at arm's length, Thibor considered his
response carefully.

“No.”

* * *

While his inner monologue was clear on
the point that he was engaging in a tactical delay, allowing
civilians to clear the area and thus reduce their potential as
potential hostiles or collateral damage, Thibor did not believe it
for one second. It might have been true; he just wasn't willing to
give the tactical consideration the weight it deserved in the face of
what he had just jumped into. After decades in the special operative
game, the more jaded might think they had seen everything, but they
were deluding themselves. No matter what horrors you faced, no
matter how strange your foes were, things could always surprise you.
Not in an enjoyable surprise it is your birthday kind of way. More
of giant naked clown with a meat cleaver, trained baboon, and an
erection kind of way. The irony being that the latter was not
actually that surprising and was not quite a yearly occurrence, but
frequent enough to be strangely comforting.

A twelve foot bipedal triceratops was
not comforting. A twelve foot bipedal triceratops dressed, in the
saurian equivalent of a seventies uber-pimp costume even less so.
Purple crushed velvet pants and long coat, trimmed in leopard
patterned faux fur. Platform shoes that added another foot of
height, a hat, and a long silver cane topped with amber.

“No one messes with
Superflyceratops!” The creature announced loudly. “The Saurian
Shaft, the Dolemite of the Devonian, the Prehistoric! Pimp! Of the
Year!”

“Have been waiting all day to say
that.” The museum gallery was mostly clear, sure there were
several huge mounted dinosaur skeletons, each worth several million
dollars, not to mention the special exhibit of precious stones that
were the likely target of the attack. Thibor was sure he could, with
minimal property damage, deal with the situation as it now stood.
The moment that reassuring thought crossed his mind, he knew he was
truly fucked.

* * *

“Papa!” Liesel unwrapped herself
from his arm and dropped lithely onto the ground. Her cute little
face bunched up in a fierce pout, but no tears were forthcoming.
Liesel didn't cry. “Tell me or...or... I'll fight you!”

Thibor considered his daughter. She
was at that special age and height that made all children dangerous
in a fight. Well perhaps not dangerous;
highly-likely-to-punch-you-in-the-junk-because-that's-as-high-as-they-can-reach
was not dangerous; having that that, it was something to be avoided
if at all possible. Especially as Lethal did not punch her weight;
rather she punched the weight of her entire senior kindergarten
class, the teacher, the teacher's aide, and the school bus.

He considered telling her.

“No. Am not telling. Is going to be
fight.”

* * *

One of the areas of research that
rarely, if ever, makes it into general books on the subject of
dinosaurs is mating. Reproduction through laying eggs is covered,
including brooding behaviours, nest patterns and the number and size
of the eggs were all there, but the actual mechanics of dinosaur
reproduction were absent. Due to soft tissues not fossilizing, the
subject of dinosaur junk, though under study, just didn't make it
into the big book of Dinosaurs. Thibor knew that someone, somewhere,
was likely writing their doctorate on whether or not you could
effectively kick a dinosaur in the dick. More power to them.

For his own part, Thibor was a
practical individual, and did not linger on the possibility of
Superflyceratops having junk that could be effectively kicked. A
kick from Thibor could shatter stone, it would be an effective
attack, there actually being testicles there would be a bonus, not
necessary, but a bonus. At the last moment the ceratopsian pimp
shifted, catching the kick on the large muscles of his thigh. The
force of the blow knocking him backwards.

“Motherfu...!” Superflyceratops
managed. He stomped his leg and danced in a quick, pained circle.
“Oh now you're going to get it! Dinowhores!” The gem on his
cane flared with a sickly amber light, bathing the room in a piss
coloured glow; a urinal cake's view of the world. Several of the
mounted skeletons stirred and pulled themselves free, glowing green
flesh manifesting, wrapping around the bones.

“That T-rex has tits.” Thibor
managed, suitably horrified. “Why does T-rex have enormous tits?
Cannot even reach around them with tiny little arms.”

“T-rex? None of those here.”
Superflyceratops crowed. “You're looking at a super-fine,
hot-blooded, Tyranosaurus Sex.”

* * *

Quoting from http://forums.sjgames.com/showthread.php?t=148883

KarlKost Wrote:In my opinion, the Magic system for Mage, along with its scenario (having room for ANY real life OR fiction idea of mysticism we have, and not only that, but also the possibility to place superscience toghether in the mix) its the most brilliant idea I have ever seem.

And GURPS Mage 3ed just gave that raw, brute idea, the balanced, well thought system, to make it a coherent system.

Peg and I ended the day by going to see Beauty and the Beast as a kind of anodyne to the events of the morning.  (For those not following in the "2:15" thread, that would be the funeral and entombment of my mother.)
I'd like to recommend the film.  Visually spectacular; all the songs from the original plus new ones with lyrics by Tim Rice; great performances; great stuff overall.  Emma Watson makes for an even spunkier and more intelligent Belle (who's a bit of an inventor if her primitive washing machine is any indicator).  Dan Stevens' Beast is remarkable, given that the only part of his portrayal that's CGI is his face -- those full body shots are him in a prosthetic suit.  Oh, the "gay content" which has the usual right-wing morons riled up is two guys looking at each other for a few seconds in a dance at the very end of the film.  As someone on Twitter noted -- a girl falling in love with an animal created by witchcraft, that's wholesome entertainment suited for children.  But let two men show that they're attracted to each other...  sheesh.
Anyway, worth seeing.  And if you don't know the majority of the cast beforehand, finding out who's playing whom will be a surprise for you.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

http://drunkardswalkforums.yuku.com/
Hey, I can browse the forums securely, and now securely log in...  But why does it look so bad?  Oh right, because they're delivering static resources like CSS over HTTP, and the browser doesn't allow that.  But still, it's encouraging to see any level of support for HTTPS in 2017. ??
-- ∇×V

So for those of you who don't know, one of my many hobbies is building
scale models. My particular focus is science fiction, although I also do
the occasional aircraft.
So before we moved, I bought a Bandai
kit that consisted of R2-D2, and R5-D4, both in 1/12 scale. Last year, I
bought the BB-8 and R2-D2 set, and assembled both of those. Since I
didn't want to build a second of R2-D2 specifically, I quickly decided
that I'd be doing Geo for the older R2 release.
I just finished
the kit today. In addition, doing the Adam Savage Method of doing
multiple pieces in case things go wrong, I went ahead and did up the R5
in the same color scheme. Anyone wants to write him/her up as a Warsie support character, is absolutely free to.
So here you go, the "action figure" of Geo, and his unnamed R5 Warsie "cousin".






--

"You know how parents tell you everything's going to fine, but you know they're lying to make you feel better? Everything's going to be fine." - The Doctor