The challenge of multi-tasking

I'm not only involved in the usual [and happily so] hectic life at both my studio and the Spark office, I'm planning a party for this coming Saturday night. As I move among my three floors of studio and home throughout the day, it's unusual if I'm not carrying something to place it elsewhere while on the phone with a client, a vendor, the condo association, an invitee, my family or one of my best friends who I am pressing into service again to listen to my list or to whom I am delegating another odd task.

If I accomplish all my goals today I will be less surprised than if I wake up tomorrow from a bender in a Vegas motel with a Turkish diplomat, a marriage certificate, a spangly pink jumpsuit, some vintage majolica, a yak and an empty oxygen tank.

Well, maybe except for the spangly pink jumpsuit. That is SO not me.

Chasing the Dragon

Hey Kids—

I am on my way to the convention in Atlanta that I've been name-dropping for weeks now.

Dragon*Con. Finally.

FROM THE PAGE—
"Dragon*Con is the largest multi-media, popular culture convention focusing on science fiction and fantasy, gaming, comics, literature, art, music, and film in the US."



I'm joining George Hrab and Slau at the Con and where both of these guys will be working their professional mojo at scheduled events. I know I'll be assisting in some way but I intend to carve out my own Dragon experience. For one thing, I'll be at Scott Sigler's THE ROOKIE Tailgate Tour kickoff on Saturday night and then heading over to the Parsec Awards. Hopefully all my pals will win something, which will be a trick because so many of them are up against one another in a number of categories.

I've promised pictures of goth girls and strange-character mashups, stories of decadent geek behavior and tales from the front lines of the podcasting and skeptic tracks. And I will most definitely make good on all of this, y'all!

And if you search on Flickr, there's a good chance you'll see photos surfacing of all sorts of Dragon*Con activities. With any luck nothing terribly incriminating will come to light. Well, not before I have a chance to contact my attorney.

Stay tuned for the post-Con reportage!

Today’s Find: Porcupine / Incident

You think you know contemporary progressive rock and wave it away dismissively. And then, this comes along.



Time Flies from the album “The Incident” by Steven Wilson’s project Porcupine Tree.

I found this via Sid Smith—writer, reviewer, quiet bon vivant—and his reportage at Postcards from the Yellow Room.

Allow me to quote his opening paragraph from the juicy review:

“Porcupine Tree has always been about exploring the resonance and echoes found within Steven Wilson’s subconscious. After witnessing a road accident, Wilson was prompted to construct an ambitious song-cycle exploring the numerous associations which this initial incident triggered."

Really, you have to read Sid's entire entry.

Sid hips me to all sorts of things I’d never hear about otherwise. Who knew Steven Wilson existed? Okay, lots of people. But not me. Wilson's project list is fascinating.

An excerpt from the wiki—

“Steven John Wilson (born 3 November 1967) is a British musician, best known as the founder, lead guitarist, singer and songwriter of progressive rock band Porcupine Tree. He is involved in many other bands and musical projects both as musician and producer (including No-Man, Blackfield and Ephrat) and also maintains a solo career.

Wilson is a self-taught producer, audio engineer, guitar and keyboard player, also playing other instruments as and where required (including bass guitar, concert harp, hammer dulcimer and flute). He splits his living time between Tel Aviv, Israel and London, UK.”



Remember those crazy days of imported vinyl prices? You can pre-order The Incident/Special Edition at iTunes for a mere pittance compared to what we used to shell out in the 80s. [Ah, the 80s...good times but I'm grateful I lived through them.]

Something more, also from Porcupine Tree: Fear of a Blank Planet, their critically-acclaimed and best-selling album available now for purchase. It's Wilson's self-described take on Public Enemy's Fear of a Black Planet.

The actual title track is a smart, clean, muscular seven-plus minutes of force. For you, the abbreviated version in video form:



Thanks, Sid. You do indeed rock.

~ ~ ~

Addendum: George reminded me that the second drummer during King Crimson's last tour—the show I saw at the Keswick—was Gavin Harrison, Porcupine Tree's drummer.

THE ROOKIE: The Unboxing

Scott Sigler and A Kovacs simultaneously, via skype, decant their hot-off-the-press copies of THE ROOKIE. The book is a limited hardcover first edition with a press run of 3,000 copies.

Sigler is a New York Times bestselling author of INFECTED and CONTAGIOUS. Recently he partnered with A Kovacs of the San-Diego-based Audacity Events to form Dark Overlord Media. THE ROOKIE is the imprint's first offering.

THE ROOKIE's Team: Scott Sigler, Future Dark Overlord™ and brilliant author; A Kovacs, project manager and hall monitor; Kevin Capizzi, GameDay program layout and 3D modeling; Greg Poloynis, alien designs and illustration; Jerry Scullion, team logos and book cover; and me, interior design.

Working with this ridiculously talented team was one of the high points of my professional life. I cannot overstate how honored I was to be hired by Dark Overlord Media and much I enjoyed working with Scott and A. They're not only gifted professionals but amazing people as well. More about this when my copy of the book arrives.

THE ROOKIE Story Synopsis:
— from the page
Set in a lethal pro football league 700 years in the future, THE ROOKIE is a story that combines the intense gridiron action of "Any Given Sunday" with the space opera style of "Star Wars" and the criminal underworld of "The Godfather."

Aliens and humans alike play positions based on physiology, creating receivers that jump 25 feet into the air, linemen that bench-press 1,200 pounds, and linebackers that literally want to eat you. Organized crime runs every franchise, games are fixed and rival players are assassinated.

Follow the story of Quentin Barnes, a 19-year-old quarterback prodigy that has been raised all his life to hate, and kill, those aliens. Quentin must deal with his racism and learn to lead, or he'll wind up just another stat in the column marked "killed on the field."

~ ~ ~

Go, Krakens!

True, that.

“
It is sobering to reflect that one of the best ways
to get yourself a reputation as a dangerous citizen
these days is to go about repeating the very phrases
which our founding fathers used in the struggle
for independence.


”
—CHARLES A. BEARD, American historian

found via my friend Joe Hanna.

The virtual mop and bucket

No, this isn't a post about cleaning up the attrition that was the festival a few weeks ago. Although, dude, I could go on and on about that week.

One of my activities as Ms. Information for the Geologic Podcast is comments moderation. It's unfortunate that we can't leave the comments open and free. There's a serious twit migration every so often and it's hella difficult to mop up after the spammers track muddy URLS all over the place.

They get more wily all the time, these spammers. My guess is that they're actual workers since there a double-Recaptcha feature on the site. SOMEone has to do all that login. Tedious job, that.

Once in a while, I'm amused by the attempt to look like a real comment. One of their tricks is to cut-and-paste a previously-posted comment and attach their slimy info to it. And then sometimes, their "comments" are just stupidly hilarious.

To wit:

"Well, so nice post haah! Your mind help me so much! I’m not sure if you mind the thing I’ll do here, Im online seller for the Ed Hardy, and also the pretty UGG Boots were my products, alright, seems I have to make the apologys for my Jordan Shoes, they are the moste hot item on my site, are u interest in them?"

Spam-tastic.

I should be working...

You know how it is.

You have a stack of work and you find yourself doing stupid things on the net. So, Celebrity Lookalikes. Yeah. Well, I ran a few photos out of sheer morbid curiosity. They gave me a collection of people that included Harvey Keitel, Matt Bellamy, Clive Barker. Clive Barker. Not even Clive Owen. And Grace Kelly. Grace Kelly?! The nerve!

I can't understand why they didn't pair me with this guy.
Clearly, we were separated at birth.




Chester Bennington on the right.
Oh, and that's me on the left.

We could be the new Mick and Bianca.