BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

I’m not a big fan of lying. I was raised better than that.

One of the things my father always impressed upon me was that an individual has nothing in this world but his / her word. Therefore, if that word is worthless, that person truly has nothing at all.

Now, of course, there is certainly the old “circumvent the truth to save someone’s feelings” sort of thing. That’s not what I’m talking about. I mean flat out subterfuge. And, I should also note that this is not to say that I haven’t fallen off the truth wagon slightly. Just about everyone does at some point in their lives, no matter how honest they are. But, I  owned up to my mistake, which was minor but still enough to not be all that good. Afterward, I climbed back on the truth train and re-valued my word.

Now, I’m sure this sounds a bit funny coming from a guy who gets paid to lie. I mean, after all, what do fiction authors do for a living? That’s right, we make sh*t up. We tell lies about people who don’t even exist, all for the express purpose of making a buck. Well… The buck is kinda the ultimate goal, but we don’t really make too many of them to be perfectly honest. We do, however, entertain folks and most days that’s enough.

Rumor is I’m pretty good at it, where text is concerned. In person, apparently I have a “tell.” At least, that’s what E K says. I think it’s probably just because she’s the QB of the WFU and therefore knows everything already. I’m sure it has something to do with the red hair…

But, I’m sort of digressing, as is my usual M. O… Therefore, let’s move right along and talk about BLAM. Now, BLAM is something you might never have heard about outside the pages of a comic book (onomatopoeia and all that). And, I should also not that I am not now, nor will I ever be, referring to myself as “your old pal Vince.” So, rest assured, BLAM is not a revolutionary cleaner, solvent, chamois, or cheap plastic chopping utensil. No, BLAM is “Blog Spam.” Again, you may have never heard this term before, so I feel compelled to point out that I just made it up.

But, that’s not the point…

You see, Brainpan Leakage, like any other blog, is often the victim of SPAM in the comments section. I combat this on two levels. The first is a background filter that catches about 99% of it and stuffs it into the BLAM can. The second is that I require moderator approval on comments to my blog, therefore until I’ve read it and see that it’s not BLAM, it doesn’t show up online.

But, this doesn’t keep the BLAMMERS from trying, and in recent months they’ve decided to take a cue from the Email Spammers “subject line subterfuge” and start lying a whole lot. The thing is, they aren’t very good at it. So, today, I thought maybe I’d share a couple of my favorites. The IP’s, emails, and URL’s have been blocked out not for anyone’s protection, but because I have no desire to let them use my blog as a backlink…

(Click images to enlarge)

I just dunno… I think if you REALLY respected my work you wouldn’t be trying to sell my readers “cipro without a prescription.” But, that’s just MY opinion…

Okay, so obviously I missed something in my own blog. What the hell does being a Buddhist have to do with a crazed redhead chasing dogs around with a stiletto heeled shoe?

Define a “long time”… And no, I don’t want to purchase anything through your amazon store, thank you very much.

You run a couple of blogs on how to not be a victim of a serial killer/rapist – identity thief – sociopath? Must be hurting for content, eh? One question: Why does your URL have something to do with pet pedigrees?

LINUX? Really? I need to check my tags. Oh, and thanks, but I’ve already had my roof replaced.

There are similar blogs about the red cross running a blood drive at a Sci-Fi con? Wow. Must be a more popular topic than I thought. No sleeping pills for me, thanks. All I need is a generic Zyrtec…

There are actually plenty more from whence these came. I had trouble picking the examples to be perfectly honest. But, there you go. All in a day’s BLAM…

And, the moral of this story? If you’re going to try to blow smoke up my ass, then… well… umm… Don’t. But(t) if you insist on trying, at least put some thought into it…

More to come…

Murv

THE PUF REPORT: Part 3 of 5

As a rule, PUF always has a mascot.

Now, the thing about the mascot is that it changes every year. I’m not entirely sure what the first few mascots happened to be, because while I have been headlining the fest for something like 8 years, I came into the mix somewhere around the time of PUF #3.

Back in ’01, when #3 happened, the “mascots” were sheep. Not real sheep, mind you. Nobody wanted to clean up the sheep poo.  So, real grass eating wool makers were replaced by the next best thing – life-sized cardboard cutouts made in their likeness. But then, they eventually progressed not only into cutouts, but plush stuffed animals and plastic toys as well. Which is one of the things that drove the mascot diversity PUF is known for today. Even so, I believe sheep were still the mascot in ’02, as to this very day I have a nubbly little plastic novelty toy sheeplike thing that was somewhat of a party favor handed out at the fest.

The picture above is obviously not a sheep. It was taken in ’08, when aliens invaded PUF. Although, now that I think about it, sheep and little green men might have gotten along just fine. Well, maybe not gotten along per se, but I’m betting the alien dudes would have had some fun with the sheep. What the sheep would have thought of that is anyone’s guess. I suppose it would largely depend upon the individual sheep and… well… things we simply won’t go into here.

Uhh… Ahem… So, moving right along…

Of course, the point here is basically to illustrate that the mascots have become an important – and expected – fixture at the Festival. To that end, I’d like to offer the following quote directly from the Festival Organizer herself,  Tish Owen. In her book, Chasing The Rainbow: Facilitating A Pagan Festival Without Losing Your Mind, she states:

WHY ARE THERE ANIMALS AT PUF? – We really have no good answers to that question, except that it amuses us. We did not start out with an animal mascot or even a name. But over the years, we have had too many bagels donated, cooked pigs, a sheep incident, the fire, the accident, the flood, and then we just started adding the animals for fun. Then at some point, someone started killing the mascots and it has devolved. We have had: bagels, sheep, pigs, penguins, flamingos, Chihuahuas, and flying pigs!

There have been more, such as the aliens, since the publication of her book. And, as you can see here on the right, she wasn’t kidding about the mascot killings. A poor, inflatable blue-green dude met his demise on the road right outside the VIP cabin one night. The scene was odd since no cars had come by for several hours, yet there it was, flat as the proverbial pancake. It definitely made us wonder if it was perhaps a “staged accident”.

But, at least in this case the particular end met was a bit more swift. Among other victims of the “serial mascot killer” another alien was found in the walk-in freezer in the dining hall. It was frozen solid, and still had a… well… there’s simply no delicate way to say this… It still had an “anal probe” protruding from its rectal orifice, which prompted site investigators to conclude that the green dude had been tortured as well as frozen to death. Of course, this theory led to… Yeah, you guessed it… An Alien Autopsy.

Sometimes there have been notes from the killer. Sometimes not. I think it largely depends upon the particular killing – that being whether it was one of the planned murders, or merely an opportunistic sort of hack and slash.

Still, there are times when the method or arrangement of the corpsified mascot remains is a message unto itself. For instance, during the year of the flying pigs many a winged swine met a horrible and terrible fate. One in particular was the little piggy who had none. In point of fact, the reason he had none is because he was the roast beast. He was even layered between two slices of breand and served up to Tish herself in her lunch one day – ostensibly so she could “taste test” the roast pork that was to be served for dinner that evening. It’s quite possible you heard her laughing when she unwrapped the sandwich, no matter where you happen to reside. We definitely heard her from one end of the campground to the other, and many points beyond.

By now I’m sure you are wondering just exactly what all this has to do with “dingles”… Well, nothing at all really. But, we’ll get to them eventually…

This year, 2009, was a first for PUF mascots. You see, instead of sheep, or frogs, or chee-hoowah-hoowah’s, we had Pirates. That’s right, Pirates. Not Pie Rats. Although, Pie Rats could possibly be fun. But, I digress…

Since the mascot was actual human being type of people it made things a bit more difficult on the “serial mascot killer”. After all, if you “kill” a stuffed, plush penguin, all you do is make a mess. If you actually kill a festival attendee who is dressed as a Pirate, the sheriff shows up and there are hard questions demanding answers. Therefore, miniature rubber duckies with pirate garb molded onto them served as the victims. Them, and Peeps. Yeah, I know, it was sort of like Peep sacrilege, but what can ya’ do?

Anywho, moving right along, this year’s PUF had a fantastic lineup of guest authors. Kristin Madden, Dorothy Morrison, Raven Grimassi & Stephanie Taylor, Moi, and even Christopher Penczak. (Can anyone see where this is going?)

Well, just in case you haven’t caught on just yet, think about the following… Pirates are the mascot, we are a bunch of authors who like hanging out together, because we are authors we make a living with words, and we all  pretty much have severely warped senses of humor… And, we’re punny… Very punny… Ya’ there yet?

Yeah… We dubbed ourselves the Pirates of Penczak…

But, even through the “bad pun groans” wafting from my PC speakers I can still hear you asking, “But, Murv, what the hell does all this have to do with a dingle? And, moreover, what the hell is a dingle anyway?”

Well, to answer the first question, not a damn thing.

To answer the second, you’ll have to ask Raven and Stephanie, because you see, all I know is Raven won’t let Stephanie go into the dingle by herself…

More to come…

Murv

The next installment in THE PUF REPORT: Part 4 of 5 – Food, Glorious Food…