Archive for the ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’ Category

h1

The Tucson Comic-Con

November 13, 2012

About 5 or more years ago, we attended one of the first Tucson Comic-Cons — held in a local comic book store (Heroes and Villans). Met the artists, got some free comics. Fast-forward to a week ago yesterday, we again went to the Tucson Comic-Con — this time it was in the Tucson Convention Center. And it was fun, indeed. Lots of comics I’ve never heard of — no surprise there, as my comic tastes are pretty old school. Some of these artists (who were manning their own tables) are spectacularly talented, some others — not so much, but they have unique ideas for story lines, so there’s that. Lots of curios, gadgets and geegaws (as my grandmother would have said) for sale: light sabers, steam punk accoutrements (ray-guns, gas masks and goggles) original paintings and sketches, jewelry, lunch boxes, indie books, t-shirts (including a Darth Vader silhouette with Mickey Mouse ears).

Also, we enjoyed the sci-fi movies and tv shows in evidence: Star Wars, Star Trek, Firefly, Doctor  Who, etc. etc. etc. Speaking of Doctor Who, here’s a local Dalek rumbling around the Comic-Con:

The coolest part of the whole scene were the folks dressed up in their various cosplay attire. There were fairies and elves (not the slutty kind), lots o’ Star Wars denizens, a father-son zombie thing, and delightful steam punkers. Here’s my favorite couple:

Don’t know who they are — she reminded me a bit of Drusilla from BtVS — but he — don’t know who/what he is, but I loved it.

So glad to see the Tucson Comic-Con has grown up — hope it gets bigger every year.

Advertisements
h1

Music for Halloween, Classic and Otherwise

October 24, 2011

Here are are my top thirteen Halloween music faves. Okay, they’re not all Halloween-specific, but they fit the mood of the holiday. If you expected a “classic” song that’s not there, keep in mind just because it’s old doesn’t mean it’s a classic — or even that good  (sorry, “Monster Mash,” “Purple People Eater,” and theme songs from both The Munsters and Addams Family — all good and fine, if you’re seven years old).

In alphabetical order:

Ballad for Dead Friends (Dashboard Prophets)
Blue (Angie Hart)
Burn the Pain (Trip Cyclone, Shivers 2: Harvest of Souls)
Cry Little Sister (G Tom Mac; True Blood version)
Desperado (Alice Cooper)
Halloween (Dream Syndicate)
Idiot Prayer (Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds)
Pet Sematary (The Ramones)
Rest in Peace (Spike, Once More with Feeling OST)
The Wrong Side (Abney Park)
Time Warp (Rocky Horror Picture Show OST)
Transylvanian Concubine (Rasputina)
Tubular Bells (Mike Oldfeld)

Six songs that scared me as a child (that I’ve since grown to love):

D.O.A.* (Bloodrock)
House of the Rising Sun (The Animals)
I Am the Walrus (The Beatles)
Sick Things (Alice Cooper)
White Rabbit (Jefferson Airplane)
White Room (Cream)

Zombies + Beatles = I Wanna Eat Your Brain

Surprisingly, “Sympathy for the Devil” (Rolling Stones) didn’t bother me. Go figure. Maybe even as a kid, I didn’t buy their “ooh we’re dabbling with demonic stuff here” schtick.

*Except for this song. Who the hell thought it was a good idea to release this for radio play (circa 1971)?  Frightened me more than anything I’ve ever heard.  Ever.  Still creeps me out. Do not look this song up; it will give you nightmares.

Six old-school faves*:

Danse macabre (Camille Saint-Saens)
Funeral March of a Marionette (Charles-Francois Gounod)
Hungarian Rhapsodies, No. 2 in D minor (Franz Liszt)
In the Hall of the Mountain King (Edvard Grieg)
Teddy Bear’s Picnic (Henry Hall)
Toccata and Fugue in D minor (Johann Sebastian Bach)

*Gee, waddya know, the majority of these I first heard in old Warner Brothers cartoons. And then there’s Raymond Scott’s “Powerhouse” — which isn’t spooky, but is industrial-assemby-line-unstoppable-machine awesome.

Hope you find something above you will enjoy. Happy Haunting!

h1

Details Details Details

June 22, 2010

Tucson Botanical Gardens: You might be thinking, why go look at a bunch of brutal cacti in all this heat and dust? How about because the detail inherent in such things, in such places, is wonderful upon closer examination. Case in point, here are a few close-ups:

A saguaro:

Pavers beneath your feet:

.

A silver cistern against a blue sky:

A psychedelic succulent:


In Vampire News (via TMZ, natch): Xander Harris gets probation for assaulting a cop last Spring! Maybe Willow worked her good-witch magik on the authorities. Maybe Xander should be banned from The Bronze for a while.

No Xanders Allowed.

Oh look, more party hats:

h1

Out of the Shadows, Masks

May 18, 2010

often birds lining the rooftops dream
me back into being much
like a flag popped by an impatient wind
so many stars sewn across my breast
I am a confederation a union of all
things stirring beneath eddies of dust
in the stillest of corners
of all creatures wearing furs
and masks kissing in the rain

(An excerpt from my longer poem, “Often, Sometimes, Hardly at All“)

Wouldn’t it be fun fun to make up names for nail-polish colors, or movie posters:

h1

All Apologies

May 15, 2010

I’m all apologies this afternoon — recently discovered it wasn’t Joss Whedon who put an end to the “Once More with Feeling” sing-a-longs, but 20th Century Fox (via Wikipedia):

“In October 2007, after a dispute with SAG over unpaid residuals, 20th Century Fox pulled the licensing for public screenings of Once More With Feeling, effectively ending official Buffy singalongs. . .”

Ah, nothing like a coterie of old dweebs in expensive suits to ruin a good party.

Well, here’s the fourth of five Spikes:

An image which makes me think of Abney Park’s “Stigmata Martyr” — if you don’t know the song, listen to it there. A steam punk band with a belly dancing member — can’t beat that with a stick.  (what?)

And now for a completely unapologetic poem:

.

In the Garden of Moonflowers

This is the time to linger,
when the heart like an overripe plum
is full to bursting:
twilight in early Spring;
the white flowers in the garden
with their phosphorous radiance,
the warm air lapsing into coolness.
Welcome, fleeting kingdom!  A gentle fiefdom
existing between the reign of the sun
and the domain of the stars.

This, too, is the time
to most dread, the interval
clocks cannot keep;
an intermission in the play
for looking behind
our gilded mirrors.
In this hour I cannot close
the eyes of my soul,
yet I cannot look away.
All things assault the senses;
I cannot bear such sentience:
the coolness of water on my fingertips,
the lilt of birds hidden
in the shadow-laced limbs of trees,
the murderous stab of memory.

I was driven into myself
like a dog beaten into viciousness:
I bared my teeth and raged
at the end of a choking chain
against the towering trompe l’oeil
who wielded the whip.
In my heart I have known his murder,
and the freedom such a death brings;
not for him —
his soul will fall to the frigid depths
and an anchor loosed at sea —
but freedom for the one
who wields the knife: a sigh released
as when a treacherous bridge is crossed,
the rapture as one unearths the ancient
jewel-encrusted dream
of beginning life anew.

But like this lavender twilight,
our dreams are just thus,
and quick to elude us
in noon’s practical light.
In the intimate embrace
of this evening’s air, I’ll wait,
choosing my dream
like a primitive
selecting the slender limb
to shape into the sleekest spear.
I will whittle my reserve
into a most pointed and deadly device;
and when the nightbirds take wing,
I will hurl my well-worked dream
with a savage’s sure aim
into his slumbering, unguarded heart.

This, then, is the time to linger.
The air is most sweet
between breaths.
Consequence
is out of my hands,
like a hawk released from the hunter.
The decision has been made.
Astronomy is a science
of ignorance:
the world turns not
of its own volition,
but under the impetus
of average men
driven to great feats
of madness.
But look —
how the flowers open to the night!

.

(Published in Illumen, Autumn 2009)

h1

In the Mood for Vamps

May 12, 2010

Been listening to the “Once More with Feeling soundtrack again (obsessively); so much fun to sing along to! Especially in the car, in traffic. Alone. We went to the Buffy Sing-A-Long at the Loft Cinema a few years ago — yowza, such fun! (My husband gave me both the CD and the tickets to the Sing-A-Long — he’s the most wonderful man I know!). Goody bags and costumed folk and everyone singing! A splediferious event, indeed. I was hoping to go every year, but . . . Joss Whedon has since put the kibosh on those Sing-a-Longs.   Sad Face : (

Now I’m doubly glad we went.

I still have my goody bag.

So I’m in the mood for vamps these days (surprise, surprise). Here’s another vampire poem, a love poem, of sorts:

The Kiss

Help me drive these iron stakes
into the unyielding earth, help me unroll
coils of spiked wire
across arrowed heads,
help me keep the woods at bay.

In the shadows of trees,
they move like natural things,
graceful and fleeting,
their brassy eyes lanterns swaying
in a windless night.

We move inside the house, feeling the locks
on doors and windows, leaving
garlands of prayers,
building great smoky fires
to obliterate the stars.

Through a broken mirror
one has entered
among us. I touch my own vein.
I will lean into your shadow
for this kiss.

.

(originally appeared in Dreams &  Nightmares, December 1994, No.34)

.

Below is the third in my series of five Spikes:

And here’s a pic of my grapevine winding its way around my yard:

Isn’t it romantic?

h1

Because You Never Know Where You’ll End Up

May 9, 2010

“Half the fun of the travel is the aesthetic of lostness.” —Ray Bradbury

“When was the Last Time You Slept in a Wigwam?” Actual sign outside the Wigwam Motel on Route 66 in Holbrook, AZ. We didn’t spend the night, but we did take pictures. Wish we’d gotten to see the inside of one of these ‘wams.

I swear,  Arizona has one of the bluest skies in all creation.
And now for something completely different:
.

.

Plainsong

your        voice the tip of a knife tracing a line
from navel to sternum        your voice
the witchcraft binding the mischief
of self-sworn spells

your voice        the faint wail of pipes
wandering beneath the wind        your voice
the luminous soul spiraling
out of a dying kiss        your voice

reaching through the cage daring
to pet the rabid heart
your voice        the sigh of an angel sinking
one sword through two sinners        your voice

.

(first appeared in Black Hammock Review, Spring 1999, No.8)