According to http://www.ew.com/article/2015/10/21/my ... -interview (which has interviews with both Adam Savage and Jamie Hyneman), the season of Mythbusters that will start in January will be the show's final season.
--
Rob Kelk
"Governments have no right to question the loyalty of those who oppose
them. Adversaries remain citizens of the same state, common subjects of
the same sovereign, servants of the same law."

- Michael Ignatieff, addressing Stanford University in 2012

A series of ficlets about the Befriending Victim Support Group.  I mean, even if they generally end up better off than before, BFing still has to be a traumatic experience....

Membership:
Anyone ever beatdown by Naruto Uzumaki.  Special group rates for nation-states and NGOs.
Just about everyone ever BF'd, or BFF'd, by Nanoha Takamachi.  Difficult to find venues for, since Nanoha keeps enthusiastically trying to re-enact the pivotal events.
Any Cosmic Entity ever bombarded by the Equestrian High-Orbital Friendship Cannon.  Refreshments catered by Pinkie Pie, no matter how hard we try to keep her from knowing the date or location.

So I've had an interesting two and a half days.
Saturday night, I turned off my computer.  Sunday, I tried to turn it on... and only halfway succeeded.  The lights and fans turned on, but no picture and no joy.  The odd bit was that the three lights on my keyboard never turned off, which suggested a motherboard issue to me.
Cracked the case, and powered it on again, this time staring at the status display.  It got stuck halfway to POST; not a RAM problem, but a problem with the mobo's RAM interface.  I looked it up online, and the board's borked.
The funny bit, and the reason for the title of the post, is that I'd already bought a replacement for it.  A replacement board, CPU, and cooler were sitting across the room, the RAM not yet arrived.  Amazon said that the RAM would be arriving on 10/26; at the time, I was amused at how it'd failed right *before* I was ready to slot in the new equipment, but then one of my friends commented that it only had a week until retirement.  The idea stuck.
(The RAM got here today, instead of Monday of next week.  I've installed it, and the machine now reaches BIOS.  Need to do some config, some driver install, and some Windows fiddling, and I'll be back on my desktop again- this time, with a Skylake i7 and 32GB of fast DDR4 to play with...)

Friend and pre-reader Helen "Hexe" Imre was (non-critically) injured in an automobile accident this morning, in which she also totaled the car she was driving. She's banged up but in no danger. More on this as we learn it.
EDIT:  Fixed misspelled title.  Damned smartphone "keyboard".  The one time you want the autocorrect to work, it doesn't.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

I've posted this elsewhere, but I figured you lot would be interested in it as well, so here, have a setting for your critiquing pleasure:
The Lords of the Ring and The Guardians of The Squared Circle
Imagine, if you will, an Orc and Dwarf engaging in something that's recognizably pro-wrestling. That's the core conceit of this setting.
We'll assume we're in something like the Blood Bowl setting: ISO Standard Fantasy Setting that's developed into something vaguely resembling the modern world with modern sports.
The basic building blocks of this setting are the Promotions, organizations designed to unify each of the various combat sports in either a region or ruleset.
There are three ends of the business:

1.  Duelists, who are straight up MMA-style fighters.
   
2.  Showmen, who are more interested in entertaining an audience.
   
3.  Godbrawlers, from whom the entire sport descends.
   

• The Various Non-Orc-and-Human races involved in this sport
  

• Godbrawling and Miracles
  

• On Gambling
  

• The Lords of the Ring
  

• Magic
  

• Some Miscellany
  

At some point I can easily imagine Doug commenting about Delores Umbridge:
"What's with all the 'hem,hem?' Are you part of the Ankh-Morpork Seamstress' Guild? I... really can't see you making much money if you are...."
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''

-- James Nicoll

The latest thing seems to be a disconnect between the vox populi of online polls and what the "analysts" are saying.
The polls overwhelmingly say that Bernie Sanders won... wait, that's "said;" apparently CNN, owned by Time-Warner Hilary's 7th largest donor decided all these filthy peasants' opinions don't matter. They want Hillary to go against the toupee.
Yeah... Remember that GamerGate thing from August last year?
Looks like the sort of stuff that started it just happened in real news, not just nerds and their vidya games.
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''

-- James Nicoll

So.. the board was down some 18 hours or so.  But it wasn't just us -- all of Yuku was gone.  And so far, Yuku isn't even acknowledging it on their support boards.  So I can't tell you what happened.  Sorry.
-- Bob
---------
Then the horns kicked in...
...and my shoes began to squeak.

Halloween flitted, shambled, cavorted and squirmed its way around the digs of Dr. Drakken. Dracula’s wives, looking awfully like Shego and the older Shegoth, flitted along a cobwebbed corridor bustling with the ghostly dancing of windblown draperies.  The master awaited them within the decayed elegance of the partially tumbled down ballroom: finger bones of moonlight reached in through fissures and rents in the masonry to caress the wax encrusted candelabra, dusty marble and monster with frost.

  He stood in the heart of the chamber stabbed straight through with moonlight as Shego, in her flowing wraith of diaphanous silks, slid gracefully in the ballroom on rollerblades hidden under the the darkened train of her dress.  At her approach, the orchestra, a ghoulish assemblage of undead, banged forth from their tumbled, rotted coffins ; began the twelve chime opening of Camille Saint-Saen’s Danse Macabre as Shego, more undressed than anyone but her husband abruptly realized, ghosted her cinnamon and pumpkin pie scented body into his awaiting embrace.

She looked up at him with what would have been a large eyed innocent look if it were not for the innate fractal smirk that poked the barest flash of incisor into her expression.   

“Did I forget anything?”

 “Only most of your costume.” He placed his hand a little lower down her back than was officially sanctioned in the waltzing handbook, led his wife in the dance.

In attendance, a red headed succubus outfitted Carmine Palisander* turned to her companion; declared:  “You’re wearing the same outfit, but Shego pulls it off better than you!” Her partner, a completely costumed Stygia, shrugged within her bodysuit while trying desperately not to quip that ‘pulling it off’ was exactly her boss’ secret costume maneuver. She got by with: “Moonlight makes everything look sexier.” 

The waltz was winding down. Drakken quirked an eyebrow at his wife: “I’m curious.”

“About?” 

“Your plan.” 

She leered : “Maybe I’m just that shameless!” 

“Maybe you are!” 

Shego fell in love even more deeply with the man who absolutely trusted her. She brushed up against his excited frame; whispered in his ear: “Only Vith you!”

At that precise moment the quartet of Stoker heroes, albeit female variants, interrupted the scene: a Dies Irae Von Helsing seemed to stake Drakkula--he hammed on the spot...stake?--as a Kohran Quincy, Umbra Harker and Nocturne Raven Seward dragged the struggling Shego behind a pillar where the flickering torch shadows recorded a hidden, oversized axe decapitation. 

The assembled guests applauded. The orchestra struck up the strains of Prokofiev’s Dance of the Knights, and the guests paired up; whirled gracefully about the hall. 

Towards the end of  the Capulet dance, the host and hostess reappeared recast as C. A. Rotwang and his lasciviously nefarious automaton, Robot Maria.

After the music, Drakkwang raised his splayed fingered mechanical hand into his character’s iconic pose ; declared in a ridiculous mock German accent, “Isn’t it worth the loss of a hand to have created the party robot of the future, the Maschinenmensch?!”** 

Shego-bot intoned, “Everybody, get down!” She tilted her comely metallic hip, lifted her left index finger skywards in time to the descent of a light scattering disco ball.

Abruptly the scene changed: ruined castle midnight became retro futuristic city scape; undead orchestra morphed into proles operating a vast cog and driveshaft infested jukebox that vented steam and music: Staying Alive, to be specific. 

Drakken, an impressive banana grin sketched across his blue face, applauded his wife; the assembled guest took it up. Shego curtsied with a clank, took the lead in time to the Bee Gees.

It was quite the party. 

 ******

*Shegomania, chapters 11, 12

**Almost a direct Metropolis quote

http://randomc.net/2015/10/04/one-punch-man-01/
I'm gonna have to watch this one. A cape who trumps Superman and Goku.
__________________
Into terror!,  Into valour!
Charge ahead! No! Never turn
Yes, it's into the fire we fly
And the devil will burn!
- Scarlett Pimpernell