We take some time this holiday season to remember why we enjoy the GWC community so much. We take some holiday listener calls. And we run down the week in geek, including Fable III wonder and frustration, a Klingon interpretation of the classic Scrooge tale, YoSafBridg’s possible casting as Wonder Woman, and lots more. Special thanks to Gil Mantera’s Party Dream for our special holiday intro music this week, a techno jam called “Brave New Christmas.”
I just had a fraggledance in my not wearing pants. swoon
Thank you. I needed something cool to listen to this morning, and later at work. You guys should do this every week.
i am having a hard time picturing yosafbrig as a brunette.
Does this help?
^^^ Awesome hair!
Regarding Audra’s mention of the Alien in the Jane Austen world, I decided to do a little Seth Grahame-Smith-esqe mash-up. Here is Raymond the Alien done in the style of Jane Austin’s Emma:
Raymond
[b]Raymond the Alien, slimy, keen, and vicious, with a carnivorous appetite and hostile disposition, seemed to unite some of the best instincts of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-one days in the world with hoards of obstacles to vex him.
He was incubated in a human trained by the military, and had, in consequence of marine discipline, been imbued with those attributes from a very early period. His host had died during the birth leaving him without any indistinct remembrance of him writhing and screaming; and his place had been supplied by an excellent computer known as Mother, who had fallen a little short of a mother in affection.
Sixteen hours had Raymond been on the Sulaco escape pod, less as an intruder than an adversary, very unaccustomed to the environment, but particularly of Mother. Between them it was more the rivalry of foes. Even before Mother had ceased to hold the day-to-day functions of the pod, the mildness of her temper had hardly allowed her to impose any restraint; and the shadow of authority being now long passed away, they had been living together as assailant and contender very mutually attached, and Raymond doing just what he liked; highly despising Mother’s judgment, and directed chiefly by his own.
The real evils, indeed, of Raymond’s situation were the power of having rather too much his own way, and a disposition to think a little too well of himself; these were the disadvantages which threatened alloy to him many enjoyments. The danger, however, was at present so unperceived, that they did not by any means rank as misfortunes with him.
Sorrow came—a gentle sorrow—but not at all in the shape of any disagreeable consciousness.—Mother changed course. It was Mother’s intention which first brought grief. Once the planet rise brightened the viewing port that Raymond first sat in mournful thought of any continuance. The Planet in sight, the orbit decaying, the fire enveloping the living quarters, with no prospect of a moment to escape the inevitable. Raymond composed himself to accept, as usual, that he had then only to sit and think of what he had lost. [/b]
I’m digging Gil Mantera’s Party Dream! What a sweet tune for the cast!
~Shooter Out
Sent from my Droid using Tapatalk
It’s late, but here’s a nifty Christmas poem. “King John’s Christmas,” by A.A. Milne, best known for creating Winnie the Pooh:
King John’s Christmas
King John was not a good man -
He had his little ways.
And sometimes no one spoke to him
For days and days and days.
And men who came across him,
When walking in the town,
Gave him a supercilious stare,
Or passed with noses in the air -
And bad King John stood dumbly there,
Blushing beneath his crown.
King John was not a good man,
And no good friends had he.
He stayed in every afternoon …
But no one came to tea.
And, round about December,
The cards upon his shelf
Which wished him lots of Christmas cheer,
And fortune for the coming year,
Were never from his near and dear,
But only from himself.
King John was not a good man,
Yet had his hopes and fears.
They’d given him no present now
For years and years and years.
But every year at Christmas,
While minstrels stood about,
Collecting tribute from the young
For all the songs they might have sung,
He stole away upstairs and hung
A hopeful stocking out.
King John was not a good man,
He lived his life aloof;
Alone he thought a message out
While climbing on the roof.
He wrote it down and propped it
Against the chimney stack:
“TO ALL AND SUNDRY - NEAR AND FAR -
F. CHRISTMAS IN PARTICULAR.”
And signed it not “Johannes R.”
But very humbly, “JACK.”
“I want some crackers,
And I want some candy;
I think a box of chocolates
Would come in handy;
I don’t mind oranges,
I do like nuts!
And I SHOULD like a pocket-knife
That really cuts.
And, oh! Father Christmas, if you love me at all,
Bring me a big, red india-rubber ball!”
King John was not a good man -
He wrote this message out,
And gat him to his room again,
Descending by the spout.
And all that night he lay there,
A prey to hopes and fears.
“I think that’s him a-coming now,”
(Anxiety bedewed his brow.)
“He’ll bring one present, anyhow -
The first I’ve had for years.”
“Forget about the crackers,
And forget about the candy;
I’m sure a box of chocolates
Would never come in handy;
I don’t like oranges,
I don’t want nuts,
And I HAVE got a pocket-knife
That almost cuts.
But, oh! Father Christmas, if you love me at all,
Bring me a big, red india-rubber ball!”
King John was not a good man -
Next morning when the sun
Rose up to tell a waiting world
That Christmas had begun,
And people seized their stockings,
And opened them with glee,
And crackers, toys and games appeared,
And lips with sticky sweets were smeared,
King John said grimly: “As I feared,
Nothing again for me!”
“I did want crackers,
And I did want candy;
I know a box of chocolates
Would come in handy;
I do love oranges,
I did want nuts.
I haven’t got a pocket-knife -
Not even one that cuts.
And, oh! if Father Christmas had loved me at all,
He would have brought a big, red india-rubber ball!”
King John stood by the window,
And frowned to see below
The happy bands of boys and girls
All playing in the snow.
A while he stood there watching,
And envying them all …
When through the window big and red
There hurtled by his royal head,
And bounced and fell upon the bed,
An india-rubber ball!
AND, OH, FATHER CHRISTMAS,
MY BLESSINGS ON YOU FALL
FOR BRINGING HIM
A BIG, RED,
INDIA-RUBBER BALL!
~ from (excellent) poetry book Now We Are Six, 1927
You were looking at her hair? YOUR MAN CARD, HAND IT OVER NOW! 
I meant “nice hair” as in “huge… tracts of land.”
Nice hair, IYKWIM.
Nice Corset 
It looks like she’s glowing!
i am having a hard time picturing yosafbrig as a brunette.
She has hair?!
Breaking news!
Natalie Portman is knocked up!
http://marquee.blogs.cnn.com/2010/12/27/natalie-portman-is-pregnant-and-engaged/?hpt=Sbin
Helped me…into my bunk!
First, in this time of extended family vacationing, I am glad to have a new cast to get me through the next few afternoons of happy-togetherness. A reason to pop in the earbuds is welcome.
plus 
= yummo.
ummm… Talos… I think you need more limbs for a proper fraggledance. But yes, me, too. More or less.
Is Christina Hendricks being cast for acting ability (which I only know Firefly) or her assets? I hope the former.
I saw Tron Legacy, not bad. Visually stunning, weak story, but I want to see this again. I think I was not viewing this more critcally.
I’ve seen Wild Wild West and I found it racially offensive. How Will Smith agreed to this pile of craaaaaaaaaappppppppppp with those lines I’ll never know? Must of been the paycheck.
Here’s the Supernatural animation trailer from Madhouse I was talking about during the cast.
Looks like it’s gonna be hot stuff.
Now that I’m listened to the 'cast…
- Frak the haters, the 'cast is fine as it is, don’t change a thing.
- Sean doesn’t answer PM’s or emails.
- Ramblecasts are awesome.
- I’m having pasta for breakfast.