Back of the Envelope

Sluggy Freelance — So Zoe decides that she'd rather live with the cloners than go homeless. It's awfully nice of them to let her stay, isn't it? The only problem is that they're a little bit evil, but Zoe's pretty used to evil housemates by now. Meanwhile Riff, Gwynn, Torg, and Kiki are staying with Zoe's little sister, Min. I hope the chaos that tends to follow them around doesn't get Min in too much trouble.

Day by Day — A mugger tries to rob Sam and Zed with a switchblade on their date. Unfortunately for the mugger, they're both packing. Then Bush and the Republicans are in for some criticism for being wobbly.

Scary Go Round — The Evil Party puts a hit out on Hugo. Fortunately for Hugo, it's a McDonald's Hot Apple Pie filling hit, causing severe burns and causing him to drop out of the race, but he'll live. Now it's Mayor Mayor vs. Bentley Quorn.

College Roomies from Hell!!! — As I predicted last week, Dave turns Margaret down. She seems strangely happy about it. Maybe his rejection convinced her that she's not at fault for Satan going after her friends. I'm not really sure. And then we finally get an explanation from Roger about what he did to Margaret. Apparently his coyote-self licked her wounds, but the human mind thought he'd hurt her when he came back. I guess that might explain his suicide attempt. And with that conclusion to the In Absentia storyline, Maritza takes the rest of the week off.

General Protection Fault — The superpowered team makes their peace with the Speck, and is now fighting Warmonger, who's armed with the Mobius Stone, making him even more superpowered. As the Mobius Stone makes him nigh invincible, it looks like they're going to have to figure out a way to destroy it. Fortunately, they have the Speck's help, and his constantly morphing superpowers make him a helpful guy to have around.

Schlock Mercenary — So it occurs to Kevyn and Edward that maybe they could just hire Pranger's Bangers before they kill Captain Tagon. With a little knowledge from the future, Thurl quickly raises the necessary cash, and Kevyn begins the negotiations.

I've gotten tired of all the trackback spam I've been getting, so I've decided to implement countermeasures. Most of the spam seems to be going to a small group of posts. So what I'm going to do is delete those posts. That may seem a little extreme, but it's not. Since I don't want to just lose my old posts, I'll be posting copies of them throughout the day. Eventually, I'll change the date on them so they end up where they're supposed to be in the archives. I'm hoping this will avoid the spam since the new post will have a different trackback ping than the spammed posts.

If you've browsed through my categories, you've probably noticed that some are quite full while others are basically empty. The reason for this is that Categories are a fairly recent feature here at Powerblogs, and when I decided on the Categories to create, I looked at the posts that I had and created categories to fit those. However, I had a lot of posts before I created the categories, and I couldn't go back and categorize them all. Well, maybe I could have, but it would have taken forever. So unless I post on a topic frequently, it can stay empty until I start categorizing my old posts. Well, I'm not going to get them all categorized right away, no more than I'm going to get all the links in them fixed, but I have gone back and put a few in the categories that were pretty sparse. For example, all the Quantum Computation posts are now in the right category. I'll be working on some of the others over time.

The latest Christian Carnival is up at The Wittenberg Gate. I didn't have an article this time since I haven't done any blogging about religion recently. I'm still pondering writing something about the nature of the soul and dualism, but I'm reluctant to tackle this subject unless I'm willing to put the work into it that it deserves. The general thesis is that the idea that the body and the soul are two separate entities, and especially that the soul can have a separate existence without the body, owes more to Greek philosophy than Christian theology, which promises a bodily resurrection. There are indeed creatures of pure spirit, such as angels (and not necessarily all of them, although I'll have to check), but we're not them. Anyway, I'll talk about this in more detail when I have a chance.

From Mickey Kaus (via Instapundit):

Aren't the dates on these MSM Sunday sections beginning to look like a form of fraud, or at least deceptive non-disclosure? The printed Times Calendar section I'm holding in my hand claims it's the Sunday, April 24, 2005 edition. But it's really the Wednesday, April 20, 2005 edition. Uncredentialed blogs accurately report the date they were written, down to the minute, no? Advantage: Self-aggrandizing journalistic wannabes! ...

Well, um, no. Not in my case. This post will be going up at noon tomorrow, even though it was written around 9:30 pm the night before. I'm quite honest about that. Pretty much all the posts you see going up during the day were written the night before, mainly because I can't blog at work, but most blog readers are out and about during the day. Heh, I guess that's an advantage I can't claim.

The Storyblogging Carnival is now part of Conservative Cat's Carnival submission form. So now you have an alternate means to submit your stories. If you use it, try to remember to include word count, blurb, and suggested rating in the Comments section. The submission form doesn't have separate categories for that.

The principle of solar sails is fairly simple. Light has momentum, and when it strikes a surface, it pushes it. This momentum is very small, but in space, without friction to keep it in place, an object can be moved to significant speeds with light. Of course, the dominant force moving things around in space is gravity, so we usually don't see much effect from light. The key is to create a large, highly reflective surface which is also very lightweight--solar sails--in order to capture the pressure of the light and move your craft. The advantage of this is that while it starts out slow, it can eventually move the craft to very high speeds, better than conventional rockets, while requiring very little fuel (none for the sails, but it still needs some maneuvering capability). An ongoing, oft-delayed experiment with solar sails is Cosmos 1, which may finally be ready to go (registration required):

The Solar Sail, a spacecraft propelled exclusively by the pressure of solar radiation, also known as the "solar wind," will be launched in April 2005 - later than expected, writes Nezavisimaya Gazeta.

Lidia Avedyeva, a spokeswoman for the Lavochkin NPO, the spacecraft producer, says the launch was postponed due to an extensive pre-flight test program.

"Currently, start-off operations and all systems of the Kosmos 1, the parent vehicle of the Solar Sail, are being tested," she said.

It's been a long time coming:

The Planetary Society and partner Cosmos Studios kicked off the Cosmos 1 program in 2000, and it has since been plagued by a number of delays and setbacks. A botched suborbital test flight in July 2001 suffered a separation failure that prevented the deployment of two small blades that were designed to test the validity of the mission concept.

The launch was originally scheduled for late 2001, but after the failed suborbital attempt and a series of testing setbacks and delivery delays, the flight was postponed for almost four years until now. Other issues included concerns over the Volna rocket, which launched on a second doomed mission in 2002 that ended much like the solar sail test the year before.

The Volna rocket underwent a series of separation tests in a 60-meter drop tower in Russia in 2003 to certify the booster for flight. However, Cosmos 1 suffered from other issues in its radio and electronic systems, which required much more substantial testing than officials had anticipated. The S-band radio instrument was not delivered until 2004 — well over a year behind schedule.

Electronic systems were finally deemed to be qualified for flight last August. Final assembly of the satellite then began at the NPO Lavochkin factory in Russia. Officials finally announced a launch date for March in November as final tests were well underway.

I'm hoping it works, but these guys don't exactly have a record of success going for them. It should be launched soon, but I haven't seen any more recent articles announcing it.

Okay, I haven't blogged on this before, so I better start with the summary. What's happening is that the Democrats are filibustering President Bush's judicial nominees rather than giving them an up or down vote. This is unprecedented. Now, it's common, and accepted, to give judicial nominees a hard time, mostly in the Judiciary Committee, but once they're moved out of committee, the Senate has always voted on the nomination, either accepting or rejecting them, rather than using the Senate's debate rules to prevent a vote. Filibustering, by the way, is a tactic used in the Senate to prevent legislation from passing by refusing to shut up. Really. The Senate allows debate to continue indefinitely, and even if you're losing, you can just keep talking and a vote is never taken. Now, debate can be closed with a vote of cloture--it takes 60 votes to do that--but Senate Democrats have been highly disciplined in voting against cloture.

Why is this so important to the Democrats? Why work so hard to keep these judges off the bench? Primarily, it's a problem of judicial activism. I've said before that I think it's a problem that the courts have so much power, riding roughshod over the democratic process to enact their preferred policy. Before judicial activism became so widespread, the political beliefs of judges mattered very little. As long as they were competent and did their jobs, they were okay, and the Senate passed most judicial appointments with little difficulty. However, now that judges are setting policy, their politics do matter, and judges are voted for and against along party lines. This even happens when the President appoints judges who believe in judicial restraint--that it's not the place of judges to make policy. The reason for this is that judges have already made quite a bit of policy, and judges who believe that this is wrong might just go about dismantling it.

Now, as a general rule, conservatives are for judicial restraint, liberals are for judicial activism. Part of the reason for this is that the country as a whole is a good bit more conservative than the judiciary, so much of what the courts do would never become law if it were up to the elected representatives. And part of this is a matter of principles. Of course, even saying this, it's not unheard of for conservatives to favor a little judicial activism now and then when it supports their policies. This is simple political hypocrisy, and isn't a mark against the principles so much as the politicians. (And, yes, you may see some of that from me as well, but I readily admit that I'm more of a pragmatic conservative than a principled conservative. I honestly think of it more as having different priorities than hypocrisy, but feel free to call me on it anyway.)

Anyway, since having liberal judges is very important to the Democrats, and since they don't have the votes to reject the nominees, they are filibustering them. This is, as I said, unprecedented. (There was one case of a judge in 1968 who was debatably filibustered. Very debatably.) So the GOP is considering what's called the Nuclear Option. This would modify the cloture rules so that the number of votes needed to close debate over a judicial nominee would be 51. This is not a change of the Constitution, which contains no rules for debate in the Senate, but a change of the Senate's internal rules, which only requires a majority vote to happen. In fact, the Senate already has a number of rules to prevent filibusters in certain situations, and some of the same Democratic Senators who are criticizing Republican efforts to change the rules now voted for a rule change in 1995 that would have eliminated all filibusters.

So what will happen? John Hawkins writes that Republicans shouldn't be afraid to institute the rule change, and Captain Ed writes that now that Republicans have the votes for it, they should just do it. I agree. Unfortunately, as Captain Ed also reports, everytime they come close to winning, they seem to choke.

Welcome to the seventeenth Storyblogging Carnival. Previous Storyblogging Carnivals are archived on this site. This week we have six entries, four of them from continuing stories (one of which is just beginning and another of which has just finished) and two stand-alone stories. I'd like to remind authors of the continuing stories that each part should contain a link to the next chapter (once it's online) and the previous chapter, and preferably, the first chapter. See Sheya Joie's The Child for an excellent example of this format. It doesn't have to be done exactly this way--I myself take advantage of Powerblogs' post-chaining, including a link at the top of each entry to the entire story on one page and links to each individual chapter at the bottom--but ease of navigation is important. Okay, enough of my micromanagement, and on to the stories. Enjoy!

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Scenes 12, 13, and 14 of A Meating of Mines (The Beginning)
by Dave Gudeman of Doc Rampage
The final 1,244 words of a 14,884 word story rated PG-13.

The heroes survive another grand adventure and exit according to their grand tradition--fleeing an enraged mob.

[And that's all, folks, for this episode. I think this is the first of our stories in progress to actually reach a conclusion. And it's a fun one. -DSC]

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Perils of Service, Part II of The Hormenith Portal Incident (The Beginning)
by Morgan Evans of Jedi Philosopher
The next 1,259 words of a 1,867 word story in progress rated PG-13.

A desk bound spy longs for adventure and finds his desk job boring. When he finds something that turns out to be of vital inportance the day before he retires, he learns that things don't always happen the way they do in books, and cloak and dagger exitement is overrated. Sci-fi/fantasy setting.

[Doc's continuing story may be ending, but Morgan's is just beginning. -DSC]

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The Bum
by Curtis Schweitzer of a-sdf
A 1,622 word short story rated R.

I've decided to try to take a break from "Walking to California" and try something new. Something really new. This story is edgy and violent. There's strong language and what the TV rating people call "situational dialogue" about a hooker and pimp. It is, in a word, rated R. It's somewhat inspired by the "Sin City" motif, and resembles it. I've tried not to use these elements casually, but in a mature way in a story that places value on defending the innocent.

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Awake, Chapter 12 of Eyes in the Shadow (The Whole Story)
by Donald S. Crankshaw of Back of the Envelope
The next 2,028 word of a 38,003 word novella in progress rated PG-13.

It turns out that Ryan's nightmares aren't half-as-bad as what he discovers when he wakes up.

[I don't usually comment on my stories, but one of my readers told me that this chapter really freaked her out. That's kind of what I was aiming for, but be forewarned. -DSC]

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Chapters 50, 51, 52, and 53 of The Child (The Beginning)
The next 4,528 words of a 43,779 word novel in progress rated PG.

Things are beginning to look up for Starr where Stone is concerned. Now if she can only find the key to ending the disunity in the group - and get the others to take that problem seriously.

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Yank Crank Monk
by Andrew Ian Dodge of Dodgeblogium
A 5,808 word short story rated PG-13.

The Sage of Wales discovers that the witch-hunting monk who is harassing him isn't what he seems.

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I hope you've enjoyed this edition of the Storyblogging Carnival. The next one will be hosted here in two weeks. In the meanwhile, check this out. It's an idea for collborative story-telling which might be quite interesting. It's an example of storyblogging which plays to the strengths of the medium. I have no idea whether the story it turns out will be any good, but it ought to be fun.

If you'd like to join the e-mail list, or if you're willing to host a future carnival, please drop me a line.

I didn't get much blogging done last night, since I went to bed pretty early, once more trying to find my lost sleep. The Storyblogging Carnival is done, though, and it will be up at noon.

Meanwhile, I have some thoughts on things I'd like to touch on this week when I get a chance, including the nature of the body and the soul, the collapse of the Twin Towers, and a couple of other things which I can't seem to recall at the moment, but hopefully they'll come back to me.

Sluggy Freelance — Yes, we're back with the regular Sluggy crew! Riff's plan to reclaim the house doesn't work out, and they're out on the streets, although with a brand new Playstation Puny. Gwynn, Riff, and Torg get into a fight over it, and Riff loses... mostly. He exchanges the PSP for the house, which might mean something if they had a house. Meanwhile, Zoe's visiting her sister, who apparently moved to New Jersey while Torg was in the Dimension of Lame, and she's quite upset with Riff and Torg and Leo.

Day by Day — Most of this week is spent dealing with Sam's and Zed's date, and Damon's attempts to spy on them. I know it's mostly a political strip, but sometimes I really enjoy the personal interactions between the characters more.

Scary Go Round — Tim decides he can't be mayor of the common man, since the common man doesn't care about science. So instead he convinces Hugo to run. Hugo's a fun guy, but half the time I have no idea what he's saying.

College Roomies from Hell!!! — Well, Diana, who, as I previously predicted, had stowed away, prevents Dave from killing Roger. Good thing, too, as Margaret was still alive. I am a bit disappointed that it really was a bait-and-switch. I expected something bigger here. Before long they're at the hospital, and we get a very sweet scene between Margaret and Dave before she kind of comes close to admitting that she really loves Dave. It's great for the D&Mer in me, although I remain convinced that it won't happen soon and Dave will basically tell her that it's too late (although I think someday they'll get another chance). What I want to know is what happened to Roger? He was basically trying to commit suicide by Dave--I have a hard time that he just changed his mind and decided to come back.

General Protection Fault — So, the Speck and Nick get into a fight, but that's just the standard superhero-crossover battle before the real bad guy shows up. That's not good for Nick's superhero friends, considering that they don't really know how to use their superpowers yet. Hopefully, the Speck will help before the Gamester bans him from this universe.

Schlock Mercenary — Well, future-Kevyn's off to save the galaxy, leaving it to past-Kevyn to save Tagon. Unfortunately, all the heavy firepower--namely Petey and Ennesby, with their armada and ship, respectively--have joined in on the galaxy saving, so past-Kevyn has just the mercenaries to work with. I hope he comes up with something.

The Rest of the Story: You can read the whole story on one page by clicking here.

This one's short. It's another example of where I write a lengthy chapter, then realize that I'm not sure I like half of it. When I'm lucky, it's the second half I'm not sure about, so I split it in two and just use the first part. When I'm unlucky, it's the first half that's problematic, and either I delay for two weeks, or I spend a few hours trying to make it something I'm happy with. This is one of those times where the first half worked.

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Chapter 12
Awake

Remember it. Remember it, damn it! Don’t forget the word… Ryan put his left hand to his head, but the memory was fading fast. He blinked and yawned. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep at all. He needed to guard against Dominic, and especially to make sure he didn’t get to the gun cabinet. He must have dozed off. He leaned his back against the wall, and almost fell asleep where he stood before it occurred to him to ask why he was standing. I was lying on the couch, he recalled. Did I actually get up before coming fully awake? God, that’s crazy. He opened his eyes and looked around as he tried to figure out where he was. A yellow nightlight glowed from a doorway just across the hall from him—that must be the bathroom. The glow showed him the door whose jamb was digging into his right shoulder: Dominic’s room, if his sluggish mind remembered correctly. The door was ajar, and a trickle of moonlight paled the nightlight’s yellow glow at the door’s edge. I must have been heading to the bathroom.

His right arm felt dead and heavy. It was totally numb below the elbow now, not a hint of the prickling that had bothered him earlier, but he could not feel his fingers at all, or move them in the slightest. It felt heavier than it should, too, pulling down on his shoulder. I need to see a doctor about this. He glanced at his arm, and blinked again.

“That’s… wrong. I have to be dreaming still.” He reached his left hand out and gingerly tapped the thing that his right hand was holding without bothering to communicate any sensation to the rest of him. The gun was real. It was a black revolver with a short barrel, an exact match for the pistol in his dream, and the hand he couldn’t even feel, much less move, held it tightly, his fingers wrapped around the grip and his index finger pressed against the trigger. Ryan carefully pried the index finger loose with his left hand, disturbed at how much pressure it had been putting on the trigger. Not quite enough to fire, it seemed, but it had to be close. He pulled his other fingers loose one by one. I can’t move those fingers at all, can’t even command them to let go, but I find them holding a gun? The fingers were pliant enough when he moved them off. He almost dropped the weapon as it slipped from his reduced grip, but his left hand caught it around the cylinder just in time. When he realized that he was holding it with the barrel pointed directly towards his belly, he almost dropped it again. He had to remind himself that it was much more likely to go off if it fell than if he just held it, but he twisted his hand to point the barrel away from him.

He went into the bathroom and set the gun on the sink’s countertop, then closed the door, and, after a moment’s hesitation, locked it. Switching on the overhead bulb lit up the room, causing Ryan to squint. The hall bathroom was cozy, with a pink marble countertop and a lily pad soap dish filled with tiny green frog-shaped soaps. There was a tub with a sky-blue shower curtain, a knit cover on the toilet seat, and white and blue towels. The black gun sitting on the countertop was decidedly out of place. Ryan stared at it, wondering where it had come from. He couldn’t tell one gun from another, but this thing just looked ugly, with its snubbed barrel, oversized cylinder, and a handgrip of brown rubber. Ryan thought it was loaded, from what he could see of the cylinder, but he didn’t know how to open it to make sure. He could probably figure it out, but the last thing he wanted to do was try figuring out a loaded weapon. He did check for the safety, and if the red ring clearly showing was any indication, then it was off. He knew nothing about guns, and he had no desire to learn, so what had he been doing with it in his hand?

He tried to remember it. Where had it come from? Had he even seen it before? Could it have come from the gun cabinet? That made the most sense. But how had he gotten it from the cabinet? It had been locked, and the guns—mostly rifles, he hadn’t seen this pistol—should have been unloaded. He would have had to have gotten the key first. Meaning… “No, that doesn’t make sense at all.” Ryan had never sleepwalked before. Oh, he sometimes got up and moving while his brain was still working on waking up, but he was always fully aware by the time he had gotten more than a few steps. This was different. He would have had to get the keys from the kitchen table, where Dominic had left them, find the right one and unlock the gun cabinet, get the gun, load it, and then come here. He didn’t even know how to load a gun. He couldn’t have done it in his sleep.

Where did I think I was going anyway? “To kill Red-eyes.” That’s what his dream had been about. Only, Red-eyes was dead, and instead it had been Dominic in his place, different but disconcertingly similar, his trenchcoat and sunglasses so like what Red-eyes had worn in the earlier dream. “I was going to kill Dominic. Because I thought he was Red-eyes.” And, maybe, he is. “I was outside his door with a gun and… In the dream, I didn’t even pause. I just pointed the gun and pulled the trigger. Could I really shoot someone so easily? Could I really kill Emily’s brother that easily?”

Oh God, what’s going on here? Ryan’s mind just wouldn’t wrap around it. He couldn’t imagine how he… His thoughts froze in their track as he heard a door creak open in the hallway. Whose? Emily’s or Dominic’s? Footsteps approached, muffled by the carpeted hallway yet still causing the floorboards to creak. It was coming from further away than Dominic’s room, so it had to be-- A knock rattled the bathroom door and he jumped despite his best efforts.

“Dom, is that you in there?” Emily’s voice asked.

Ryan looked at the door, then at the gun. He had to hide it. “No, no, it’s Ryan. I’m almost done… I’ll be out in a second.” He started the faucet running, then slowly pulled open the cabinet below the sink. Its hinges squealed but not too loudly. Maybe Emily wouldn’t hear. He placed the gun inside, setting it down at the very back of the cabinet. When he had shut the cabinet door, he ran his left hand under the tap, then wiped it off on the towel hanging by the sink. His right arm hung uselessly by his side, so he didn’t even try to wash it. Only then did he open the door, where Emily stood blinking at the bright light coming from the bathroom. She was dressed in a simple blue nightgown that went to her calves, her long hair was disarrayed, and she had a fading red line imprinted on her cheek. She still looked lovely.

“Ryan…,” she began. “I’m sorry for earlier tonight.”

“Don’t be silly, Emily. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’m sorry I blew up like that. I, I just can’t seem to hold onto my temper tonight.”

“Do you really think Dominic might be… I mean, that Red-eyes could possess him? It seems impossible, but if you say you saw something, I believe you.”

But why? Why would you believe me over your own brother? “I don’t know, Emily. The thing inside of Red-eyes could be anywhere. I don’t think you should trust anyone.”

“Except you?”

“Well, I know I’m not possessed, but why should you take my word for that? And even if I’m not, that doesn’t mean I can’t be.”

“Don’t talk like that, Ryan! If I can’t trust you, then I’m all alone in this. I refuse to believe that.”

“Emily, I’m sorry. I wish I knew what was going on, or I could tell you there was nothing to worry about, but I don’t understand half the things that are happening to us.” I should tell her about the shadow-thing, and the dreams. She needs to know, but… Looking at those wide eyes, Ryan couldn’t. She was scared enough as it was. “Just be careful, okay.”

“I will, and I’ll be praying for all of us,” she said, and then looked at the arm that hung by his side. “Is something wrong with your arm?”

“I just landed funny when I fell into the pit,” Ryan lied. “My whole body hurts.”

“You should have said something,” she said. “Maybe we should take you to a doctor.”

“Tomorrow. Just let me get some sleep and see how it feels in the morning.”

“Okay,” she said doubtfully. “We’ll wait until tomorrow, but if it’s not better then, we’re going to the doctor.”

“That’s fine,” Ryan said, slipping past her. She went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her, and Ryan headed back to the living room, his left hand on the wall to guide him in the dark. Why hadn’t he just told her about the shadow-thing? He should have. He kept meaning to, but every time he chickened out. He needed to decide for himself what was real and what was false before he started telling other people about them. What happened to it? Where did it go? Is it in Dominic? Or somewhere else?

He fumbled into the living room, and then felt around on the end table until he found his keys. He picked them up and clicked on his flashlight. The outer clothing he had removed lay next to the couch, and his heavy jacket lay on the floor with it. He went over to the gun cabinet. Two of the drawers were open, and Dominic’s key hung from the lock of the one on the right. He knelt beside it and looked inside. It was filled with boxes of ammo, one of which was open. He had to set down the flashlight in order to do so, but he closed the box, fumbling with the lid in the dark, then the drawer, which he locked. He checked the next drawer, inside of which were three wooden boxes, one of them open. The felt-covered packing material was shaped for a revolver which wasn’t there, a revolver which, as far as Ryan could tell, would perfectly match the one he had woken up holding. Ryan closed and latched this box, then closed and locked the drawer. He’d have to wait until Emily was done and then get the gun and put it back. Meanwhile, he carried Dominic’s keys to the kitchen table and put them back. As soon as he had set them down, the bathroom door opened. He stepped away from the table just before Emily noticed him.

She gave a startled little gasp. “Who’s--? Oh, Ryan, it’s you. Are you looking for something?”

“I was just wondering where you kept the blankets,” he replied.

“Oh. Oh! I’m so sorry! I forgot all about getting you set up.” Emily came into the dining room and opened up a door which turned out to be the linen closet, and brought out some sheets, a pillow, and a blanket. She quickly set up the couch to a halfway decent semblance of a bed, then left him to get back to sleep. Ryan sat on the couch, this time even more determined to stay awake. He had to put the gun back. After that… no, he didn’t think he would be getting any sleep tonight. If he could find and load a gun while sleepwalking, then falling asleep was dangerous as much because of what he might do as because of what Dominic might attempt.

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This chapter is 2,028 words long, bringing the total length of the story to 38,003 words.

I may have lost track of the exact score, but the Bible study is definitely winning. I did miss it last week when the lack of sleep caught up with me and I tried, unsuccessfully, to nap after work. So you got more blogging last week, but this week I was feeling better so my time was better spent. Not that I don't enjoy blogging, but some things are more important.

If you hadn't noticed (and I barely noticed and I run the site), some of my old posts had accumulated an extraordinary number of Trackbacks. Unfortunately, those Trackbacks were spam, sometimes over 20 to a post, linking mostly to online poker sites. I deleted over 150 of them yesterday, and banned the sites, but I'm sure it's something I'll have to do on a periodic basis. Meanwhile, my eyes were getting kind of blurry there, and it's possible I banned some legitimate bloggers (you guys) by mistake. So if you find that you can't Trackback anymore, let me know and I'll see if I can fix it.

As Jonah's Jewish, he has even less of a personal investment in the new Pope than I do, but he does have some interesting thoughts:

Some believe there is a radical left wing in the Catholic Church that seeks to unravel the teachings of John Paul II, but this is an exaggeration of the Western — particularly, the American — press. The notion that you could find any cardinal eager to change church policy on abortion, for example, is simply a fantasy concocted by liberal journalists. Excepting, maybe, the issue of distributing condoms in Africa, it's hard to think of a hot-button social issue that divides the church's leadership a fraction as much as American editorial pages seem to suggest.

If a committee made up of Andrew Sullivan, Gary Wills, Andrew Greeley, Paul Begala, and Nancy Pelosi were given the power to select a pope from the current College of Cardinals, we would still have a pope opposed to abortion and gay marriage.

The issues that truly divide the church have to do with questions of local autonomy, global economics, and the like. It takes the solipsism of American liberals to imagine that simply because America is divided over certain issues, the Vatican must be, too. And it takes the ignorance of the American media to think that a "liberal" in America is a liberal in Rome, Buenos Aires or Lagos.

Isn't our solipsism one of the reasons terrorists hate us? You'd think those who worry about such things would be making more of an effort to avoid it.

The latest Christian Carnival, number sixty-six, is up at Pseudo-Polymath. Check it out.

A new pope has been selected:

With unusual speed and little surprise, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger of Germany became Pope Benedict XVI on Tuesday, a 78-year-old transitional leader who promises to enforce strictly conservative policies for the world's Roman Catholics.

I don't know anything about Ratzinger, aside from what the news article says, but if the AP is calling him a hardliner, I suspect he's my kind of pope. (The article has changed since I first read it, and it's no longer calling him a "hardliner," but a quick read-through of the article will show that the implication is still there.) This quote, for example, shows why he's not liberal enough for the AP, and why I like what I see so far:

As dean of the College of Cardinals, Ratzinger had delivered a particularly sensitive homily at John Paul's funeral. He followed it up with a fiery speech to the cardinals before they entered their conclave Monday, warning about tendencies that he considered dangers to the faith: sects, ideologies like Marxism, liberalism, atheism, agnosticism and relativism — the ideology that there are no absolute truths.

"Having a clear faith, based on the creed of the church is often labeled today as a fundamentalism," he said. "Whereas relativism, which is letting oneself be tossed and swept along by every wind of teaching, looks like the only attitude acceptable to today's standards."

Becoming pope at 78, it's highly unlikely he'll serve anywhere near the twenty-six years that John Paul II did.

Not being Catholic, I don't have a whole lot personally invested in the new Pope, but that doesn't mean that I don't respect the influence he has in the Christian church, even those parts of it that don't acknowledge his word as authoritative.

Now this is one of those stories that's too weird not to be true:

Truelove is spearheading the department's request to purchase and train a capuchin monkey, considered the second smartest primate to the chimpanzee. The department is seeking about $100,000 in federal grant money to put the idea to use in Mesa SWAT operations.
...
Weighing only 3 to 8 pounds with tiny humanlike hands and puzzle-solving skills, Truelove said it could unlock doors, search buildings and find suicide victims on command. Dressed in a Kevlar vest, video camera and two-way radio, the small monkey would be able to get into places no officer or robot could go.

It's actually not a bad idea, no stranger than the idea of training a dog to do police work. I have to wonder about the Kevlar vest, though. Light Kevlar vests only weigh about ten pounds, so I suppose a scaled down version might be light enough for an eight pound monkey to wear, but there's no way something that light could stop a bullet, so I don't know how much protection the Kevlar's supposed to provide.

Let's just hope Truelove doesn't think that arming the monkey is a good idea. It's not. Trust me on this one.

In the course of talking of the Papal selection, Michael Novak has some interesting words to say about providence:

Meanwhile, to jump back to the way God can work at a conclave: In between details like the weather, personal illness, chance encounters, and accidental perceptions thrown off by odd angles in the way people meet — not to mention unsummoned thoughts and images and intimations — there are a host of ways in which the Divine Artist of events can set the stage and arrange actions, without in the least interfering in the natural laws of human nature and history, or even in the perfect freedom of will of those who make decisions.

In fact, so much of our lives are outside of anybody's powers of decision, or even of complete knowledge. The Holy Spirit (God Himself, thought of as Three-in-One) has more than enough room to work as the great consummate Artist of events, without calling upon a ready repertoire of miracles. Occasionally, it takes one of the latter. But every year, when a tiny seed dies in the ground, and blossoms into a full shock of corn, thrusting out six or eight full ears of comparable seeds, nature itself is abundant in "miracles" of an un-miraculous, regular sort. It does not seem too far a stretch to allow for occasional real miracles, even though one prefers not to ever count on them.

That is: I think the Holy Spirit can work miracles in a conclave. Yet I can clearly see so many utterly natural, contingent possibilities that I fail to see why He would have to.

Providence is generally thought of as the way God arranges what looks like chance and coincidence to work to accomplish his will. It's the word that would generally be used to describe the divine activity that Mr. Novak is describing here. To answer the question that I posed in this post's title, here is what Michael Novak has to say:

We do not have the promise that the Holy Spirit, personally, will choose each and every pontiff, in conclave after conclave. Rather, each pontiff chosen is blessed with the protection of the Holy Spirit, for the sake of the people he serves, at least to put some limit on the colossal damage that a truly bad pope has sometimes caused. Yet normally, out of respect for the rules of nature and liberty He Himself set, the Holy Spirit works through the actions and contingencies of real, concrete, finite, limited human beings — those 115 cardinals this time — doing their best to think through the needs of the Church.

This is probably closer to the way I see things than the standard Evangelical answer.

Just in case you don't have enough to worry about (hat tip Instapundit):

A HUGE asteroid which is on a course to miss the Earth by a whisker in 2029 could go round its orbit again and score a direct hit a few years later.
...
Although they are sure that it will miss us, they are worried about the disturbance that such a close pass will give to the asteroid’s orbit. It might put 2004 MN4 on course for a collision in 2034 or a year or two later: the unpredictability of its behaviour means that the danger might not become apparent until it is too late.
...
The asteroid is big enough to cause damage on a regional scale, with an expected impact equivalent to a 1,000-megatonne explosion. It was discovered last June and its orbit plotted in detail by December. Startled astronomers calculated at one point that its chances of a direct hit on Friday, April 13, 2029, were 1 in 38. But additional calculations have set those fears to rest. The asteroid is now expected to miss but come close enough to be below the altitude of TV satellites. It should be visible as a rapidly moving point of light.

That would have been one bad Friday the Thirteenth. I'd like to think that in thirty years we'll have the technology to deal with such a threat, but it's been thirty-six years since the first lunar landing, and somehow it doesn't feel like the advances in the necessary fields of technology have been fast enough.

To be honest, though, I usually don't worry about these sorts of things. I'm a Christian, which means that I believe that even when terrible things happen, they fall under God's sovereignty. I'm not looking forward to the end of the world (which this asteroid wouldn't be causing anyway), but even the end of the world isn't the end of everything.

I will be hosting the Seventeenth Storyblogging Carnival on April 25th. If you have a story on your blog that you'd like to submit to the Carnival, please e-mail me at dscrank-at-alum.mit.edu (or post in my comments), including the following information:

• Name of your blog
• URL of your blog
• Title of the story
• URL for the blog entry where the story is posted
• (OPTIONAL) Author's name
• (OPTIONAL) A suggested rating for adult content (G, PG, PG-13, R)
• A word count
• A short blurb describing the story

The post may be of any age, from a week old to years old. The submission deadline is 11:59 PM Eastern time on Saturday, April 23rd. More detailed information follows:

1. The story or excerpt submitted must be posted on-line as a blog entry, and while fiction is preferred, non-fiction storytelling is acceptable.
2. The story can be any length, but the Carnival will list them in order of length, from shortest to longest, and include a word count for each one.
3. You may either send a complete story, a story in progress, or a lengthy excerpt. By lengthy excerpt, I mean that it should be a significant portion of the story, at least 10% of the whole thing. You should indicate the word count for both the excerpt and the complete story in the submission, and you should say how the reader can find more of the story in the post itself.
4. If the story spans multiple posts, each post should contain a link to the beginning of the story, and a link to the next post. You may submit the whole story, the first post, or, if you've previously submitted earlier posts to the Carnival, the next post which you have not submitted. Please indicate the length of the entire story, as well as the portion which you are submitting.
5. The host has sole discretion to decide whether the story will be included or not, or whether to indicate that the story has pornographic or graphically violent content. The ratings for the story will be decided by the host. I expect I'll be pretty lenient on that sort of thing, but I have some limits, and others may draw the line elsewhere. Aside from noting potentially offensive content, while I may say nice things about stories I like, I won't be panning anyone's work. I expect other hosts to be similarly polite.
6. The story may be the blogger's own or posted with permission, but if it is not his own work he should gain permission from the author before submitting to the Carnival.

If you'd like to be added to the e-mail list, please let me know. Also, feel free to advertise the carnival on your own blog. Finally, let me know if you want to host a carnival in the future.

Fortunately, I didn't take the hook, which was in the form of this e-mail I received:

Our ability to search resumes online has allowed us to grow at a pace second to none in our industry. Because of this, we are touching base with individuals who have posted their resumes that meet our requirements for the positions we have available.

Based on the career profile you provided us, you might be interested in the following job(s). Please review the job description(s) and if you would like to continue the process, send blank e-mail with the word "USASPECIAL" in the subject line to ustoday05@cox.net

0100 — Sr. Financial Representative

As a front line financial agent, you will be responsible for connecting different countries' financial markets by acting on behalf of our customers. All you need is an active bank account, good communication, internet access and desire to work as a big team. Get from 5 to 10% from each transaction!

This message contains information which is privileged and confidential and is solely for the use of the intended recipient. If you are not the intended recipient, be aware that any review, disclosure, copying, distribution, or use of the contents of this message is strictly
prohibited. If this confirmation notice was sent to you in error or to unsubscribe at any time, please click:
http://reg.e.usatoday.com/edit.aspx?0636442840

Thank you for using USATODAY.com.

Regards,
The USATODAY.com Team

For the latest news, please visit http://www.usatoday.com/

The fun part about e-mails like these is that they look legitimate. I'm pretty sure it's not, for several reasons. First of all, although my resume is online, this wasn't directed to the right e-mail. It was instead sent to an e-mail list I'm a member of, not one used by any one person. Second, although the links are legitimate, the e-mail address is suspicious. It's not at the usatoday.com domain--instead it's a cox.net e-mail, ustoday05, which isn't even reasonably close to its supposed source. Third, it specifically says that this business opportunity requires an active bank account, which is suspicious right there. Finally, the original source of this e-mail is, according to the header, in Brazil. So I'm guessing it's a phishing attempt, similar to the Nigerian e-mail scam: "Tell us your banking information and we'll put $10 million in it, trusting you to give us $9 million of it and letting you keep the rest as a commission." This is, of course, just a way to get your banking information so they can drain your account. That's essentially what phishing is--a legitimate looking e-mail trying to get people to give personal information, whether banking accounts, credit card numbers, passwords, or whatever--in order to facilitate electronic theft. And as any web-savvy person knows, you never send personal information via e-mail, whether it's someone you trust or not, because e-mail can easily be intercepted and read unless you encrypt it.

Once again, I'm running late, which isn't very excusable considering it's the only post I get done on Saturdays. Ah well, better late than never, and I'll put it in the right spot in the archives anyway.

Sluggy Freelance — Uh-oh. Calix's plan to free his people didn't work out so well, and their ship was destroyed by John Jacobs's fleet and the survivors imprisoned. Meanwhile, Bun-bun's captured Calix and is about to execute him, but Kada negotiates for his survival. Which is all well and good, except they both end up hanging over the side with ropes tied around their ankles, at least until Calix challenges Bun-bun to a duel. Which may make things better or worse.

Day by Day — Lots of teasing of Zed for being so behind the times, and he and Sam have a date. (Sam is short for Samantha, by the way.) Most of the humor centers around the character interactions, but a few jokes are saved for bashing the old media.

Scary Go Round — And the political campaign kicks off. Shelley supports Mayor Mayor by proposing lots and lots of lying. Tim Jones, though, is proposing to make things right by science. Because, you know, you can fix all woes by science, or something like that. Meanwhile, there's another player, Mr. Quorn, who represents the Corrupt Party or something like that. Tim isn't doing so well, but a televised brawl between the campaign advisers of the other two candidates may lift his fortunes.

College Roomies from Hell!!! — Back to the woods with Roger and Margaret, where it looks like neither of them is willing to return to the civilized world. Margaret's attempts to convince Roger to do so brings out the beast. And Mike and Dave finally arrive to bring them home, only to discover Roger with a seriously hurt and unconscious Margaret in his arms, apologizing for losing his temper and basically asking to be lasered. A lot of people think this is simple bait-and-switch, apparently on the theory that Roger would never hurt Margaret just for killing his mother, but I'm expecting something bigger to happen.

General Protection Fault — Now this is fun. The GPF crew has entered an alternate universe where they're superheroes. There's just the tiny problem that Nick's transuniverse adventures tend to draw the ire of the Gamester and Mischief because they risk the very survival of those universes. And one of the Gamester's opponents has slipped into this universe, which is never good. Anyway, everyone has fun discovering their superhero identities--well, except for Sharon and Dexter. They have... issues.

Schlock Mercenary — It worked, Kevyn has gone back in time to just before Tagon died. Unfortunately, Schlock stowed away, and the extra weight threw off the time travelling, and it is just before Tagon died, meaning it may be too late to save him. First, though, Kevyn needs to make contact with his past self. Then we'll see who lives and who dies.

At least his Open Society Institute has done some useful and important work in this fascinating study:

The Chinese government's Internet controls have kept pace with rapid changes in technology and are buttressed by self-censorship, university researchers said in a study Thursday.
...
China's filters can block specific references to Tibetan independence without blocking all references to Tibet, according to the report by the OpenNet Initiative.

Likewise, the government limits discussions about Falun Gong, the Dalai Lama, Tiananmen Square and other topics deemed sensitive, the study finds.

Numerous government agencies and thousands of public and private employees are involved in censorship at all levels, from the main pipelines, or backbones, hauling data over long distances to the cybercafes where many citizens access the Internet.

That breadth allows filtering tools to adapt to emerging forms of communications, such as Web journals, or blogs, the study finds.

Some key findings, which may also point to weaknesses, include:

_Though some dissidents complain that e-mail newsletters sent in bulk are sometimes blocked, individual messages tend not to get filtered.

_Much of the filtering occurs at the backbone, but individual Internet service providers sometimes deploy additional blocking. Cybercafes and operators of discussion boards also control content proactively under threat of penalties.

_Filtering tends to be triggered by the appearance of certain keywords, rather than a visit to a specific domain name or numeric Internet address. The keyword-based filters also allow blogs to keep people from completing posts containing banned topics.

Overall, it's some truly interesting work they did, especially how they went about testing China's filters. I wonder if I'm banned in China? I should hope so! But if the e-mails aren't filtered, then people ought to be able to join my blog's mailing list and still get the posts e-mailed to them. Too bad that they can't learn about it if they can't get to my blog in the first place.

At least you'd think so from quotes like this:

"It frightens me ... as an artist and curator. Now we're being watched," Hernandez said. "It's a new world. It's a Big Brother world. I think it's frightening for any artist who wants to do edgy art."

What's she so worked up about? This:

Organizers of a politically charged art exhibit at Columbia College's Glass Curtain Gallery thought their show might draw controversy.

But they didn't expect two U.S. Secret Service agents would be among the show's first visitors.

The agents turned up Thursday evening, just before the public opening of "Axis of Evil, the Secret History of Sin," and took pictures of some of the art pieces — including "Patriot Act," showing President Bush on a mock 37-cent stamp with a revolver pointed at his head.

The agents asked what the artists meant by their work and wanted museum director CarolAnn Brown to turn over the names and phone numbers of all the artists. They wanted to hear from the exhibit's curator, Michael Hernandez deLuna, within 24 hours, she said.

(Hat tip to Dean Esmay and Jeff Quinton.)

I agree with Hernandez. The Secret Service is completely out-of-control. It's the new Gestapo! Things were never like this under Clinton. Well, aside from incidents like this:

President Clinton's Secret Service agents searched the apartment of a student columnist for Cal's Daily Californian who wrote a satirical Big Game column mentioning Chelsea Clinton that appeared in the school paper lat week.
...
Branum, who stood by his column but disclosed that he has published an apology Friday. He also produced a tape recording he made during the search by the two agents. On the tape, one of the voices, depicted by Barnum as Secret Service agent Chris Von Holt from the San Jose office, can be heard saying '...What happened is Mrs. Clinton turned to one of her agents and yelled what the f--- is going on . . . and he called me and said, Jesus, let's get out and talk to this gentleman!'

Incidentally, Hillary Clinton had arrived in San Jose on Monday. When she was spotted by reporters, she refused to respond to shouted questions about the column incident. Clinton aides declined comment.

Special Agent, Arnette Heintze, in Washington, D.C., denied that Clinton had anything to do with initiating the investigation.
...
Sources on campus there report the two Clinton Secret Service agents bullied Branum to coerce his 'permission' to search the apartment after telling him they would otherwise hold him while getting a search warrant, Branum told reporters.

The pair then lectured Barnum about an earlier editorial column in which Barnum referred to the president Bill Clinton as Sexual Predator-in-Chief which Von Holt then referred to as a '...low blow.' Branum contends.

The agent whom Branum identified as Von Holt reportedly told him 'I want to make sure you don't have any weapons or any of the stuff you see on TV that actually happens in apartments, like a big picture of Chelsea with a big `X' in blood on it.'

They instructed Branum to stay home from work at the student newspaper for the day, except during his scheduled class hours, which they had obtained from the university, Branum said.

Before leaving the Secret Service agents demanded that he sign a waiver giving the Secret Service access to his confidential medical records, including any pertaining to mental health, Barnum said.

Okay, I'll admit that I quoted from this article partly because it is so one-sided, even if it can't decide how Branum's name is spelled. You have to look in another article to see what had the Secret Service so worried:

Branum, who said his column was intended to boost support for the school's annual football game against Stanford University, wrote: "Show your spirit on Chelsea's bloodied carcass, because as the Stanford Daily lets us know, she is JUST ANOTHER STUDENT.

"She embodies the Stanford ethos of establishment worship that must be subverted and destroyed. ... Is hate a strong word? Yes. Is it applicable? Certainly."

I think the Secret Service had not just the right but the responsibility to look into the matter both times.

Tired of listening to me moan about my life? Then go read this week's Christian Carnival at AnotherThink. It's a whole lot better reading than the whining around here!

I had a nasty surprise when I opened up my credit card bill last night. It turned out to be over $1,000 higher than expected. A second look showed that the unexpected $1,000 in charges all took place in Indiana and Missouri, two states I've never been in. A quick call to my credit card company, and they agreed to remove the charges if I cooperate in prosecuting the person who did it--presumably just by signing an affidavit--which I'm more than happy to do. The big question is how they did this. They were using a physical card--this isn't Internet fraud--so the question is how they got a hold of it considering that I still have my card on me. My best guess is that they somehow found the mini-card that my credit card company insisted on sending me. I should have destroyed that thing when I got it, but instead I kept it in my wallet. It's not there now, so I suppose it fell out somewhere and some dishonest Indiana resident found it.

So now I can't use my card until it's replaced, and meanwhile I've got to shift all the automatic deductions to something else. I'm sure I'll forget something, and when they find the account closed they'll cut off my service and then charge a penalty before they turn it back on. What fun!

Last night I decided to take a different approach to the sleep problem. Instead of going to bed earlier, I'd go to bed later. Not real late, but around 12:30 am or so, and see if I wake up as often during the night. If so, then it's time to consider medical alternatives. If not, then maybe I'm just not equipped for the early to bed, early to rise thing. How'd it go? Well, remember how I write these posts the night before. Yes, I wrote this before I tried it. If I remember, however, I'll update this post before it goes up and let you know.

Update: Well, I slept through the night, not waking up until six. Of course, having gone to bed later (and having trouble getting to sleep, so that I was awake until 2 am), I'm still exhausted. I'm going to have to come up with something better.

I haven't blogged on this since the original story broke, but recently Sandy Berger admitted that he deliberately removed classified documents from the archives and destroyed them:

For months, he called it an honest mistake.

But on Friday, Sandy Berger pleaded guilty to a misdemeanor in federal court. Berger, who served as President Clinton's national security adviser, is acknowledging that it wasn't an honest mistake and that he intentionally took and destroyed copies of classified documents from the National Archives and cut them up with scissors.

Now, for some time there's been speculation about what was in those documents that Mr. Berger destroyed. The documents were copies, rather than originals, so destroying them wouldn't do any good, unless, as some of the rumors said, they also contained handwritten notes from various officials commenting on them. This has been firmly denied by the Department of Justice prosecutor in charge of the case:

"Those documents, emphatically, without doubt--I reviewed them myself--don't have notations on them," Mr. Hillman tells us. Further, "there is no evidence after comprehensive investigation to suggest he took anything other than the five documents at issue and they didn't have notes." Mr. Berger's sentencing is scheduled for July, and Mr. Hillman assures us Justice's sentencing memo will lay out the facts and "make sure Mr. Berger explains what he did and why he did it." Meanwhile, conservatives don't do themselves any credit when they are as impervious to facts as the loony left.

Doc Rampage is putting forth one of those conspiracy theories on his blog.

So, leaving the conspiracies aside for the moment, why did he take the documents and destroy them? According to Berger, he took them to review for the 9/11 Commission Hearings, even though he should not have removed classified documents from the archives. He then destroyed them because he was nervous about being caught. Innocent? I suppose, but as has been pointed out before, he has an awfully lax attitude towards classified documents for a former National Security Advisor. At the end of the day, he's going to get a slap on the wrist, whereas you or I would likely see prison time.

I've been having the hardest time sleeping. Two nights ago, for example, I got to sleep at a reasonable time, around 11:30 or so, which should have been fine in order to wake up around 7:00, which is what my alarm was set for. The problem is that I woke up at 2:30, 5:00, and 6:00 as well, and each of those times I was awake for somewhere between half an hour and an hour. I was exhausted at work yesterday. I'm not sure what a decent solution would be. Going to bed earlier just seems to mean waking up earlier (although it's hard to see what could be earlier than 2:30). Ugh. Aside from being exhausted at work, I'm also exhausted when I get home, and that hurts the blogging and the writing I'm trying to do as well.

Update: Writing my posts the day before has its disadvantages, as I often say that something happened "today," which was true at the time I wrote it, but it's "yesterday" by the time the post goes up. I've corrected this post so that the days are relative to the posting date rather than the writing date. And after yet another wakeful night, I can tell you that what's earlier than 2:30 am would be 2:00 am, which is when I first woke up last night.

The newest Storyblogging Carnival is now online at Tales by Sheya. Have a look. If you'd like to read previous versions of the Storyblogging Carnival, I have a complete index.

Now that the full facts have come out, Powerline has published the full story:

The following morning, the mystery was finally solved. Democratic Senator Tom Harkin telephoned Republican Senator Mel Martinez and said that Martinez had handed him a copy of the memo on the Senate floor. This caused Martinez to interrogate has staff, and an aide named Brian Darling confessed that he authored the memo. The story, as related by Martinez and his staff, is that Darling wrote the memo in draft form, and Martinez, thinking it was a standard checklist of arguments in favor of preserving Terri Schiavo's life, then handed it to Harkin. From Harkin, the memo found its way to ABC News and the Washington Post.

The Democrats were thus not guilty, as many of us believed, of creating the memo as a dirty trick. However, the central claim of many Democrats, newspapers, and commentators--that the memo was the product of the Republican congressional leadership and constituted an official "GOP talking points memo"--has likewise been proved false. It was this characterization that justified the memo's use as an indictment of congressional Republicans' motives in the Schiavo case. If the memo had been correctly described from the beginning, as the inept product of a freshman senator's aide, with no responsibility for Republican political strategy, which may not have been read by a single Republican senator, it is questionable whether it would even have merited a news story.

It looks like I was essentially correct in my initial take, that there really didn't seem to be the evidence to pin the memo on the Republican leadership or the Democrats.

It is a sad fact that even in groups that strive to be accepting, some people just don't fit in. Even in Christian fellowships, there are certain people who make others uncomfortable. I've observed this myself, and generally the person who has this difficulty is a guy, socially awkward or downright inept, who in his attempts to connect to other people tend to drive them away. This is particularly the case when the person he's trying to connect to is a woman, and he makes her feel uncomfortable. In a day and age where concern over harassment gives management and legal services fits, it's easy to see where this may be grounds for asking the person to leave. If he makes the women feel uncomfortable, if he makes the "fellowship environment" intolerable, then it's better that he leaves rather than drive everyone else off, right?

Well, unless you take Jesus's commands to love your neighbor as yourself seriously. Now, the person who comes to mind wasn't at all ill-meaning, just awkward. He certainly wasn't shy about talking to women in a direct manner, but he was, as near as I could figure, harmless. I'm pretty sure he could take no for an answer, he just wasn't very good at figuring out the hints that usually mean no. That one fellowship actually asked him to leave bothered me immensely. What good is it if you only love those who are easy to love? The Bible calls on us to love our enemies, surely it calls on us to love our more annoying brothers as well.

I bring this up because I've noticed a tendency for Christian fellowships to justify this sort of reaction to people they have difficulty with. That conflicts happen shouldn't surprise us, nor should the fact that some people make us uncomfortable. But if you're a comfortable Christian, you're doing something wrong. God calls us to do things that are distinctly uncomfortable, and that includes loving those who are hard to love.

Sluggy Freelance — Bun-bun narrowly escapes to his other ship as Calix's villagers take over his flagship. Then, despite a few delaying fillers, Bun-bun goes and lowers da boom on Calix for betraying him. It looks like Bun-bun will get the map after all. I hope he doesn't kill Calix--I like him.

Day by Day — Some fun interactions this week, even when they're commenting on Senator Cornyn, the FEC, the UN, Canada, and a whole lot of journalists.

Scary Go Round — Shelley and Amy dress as nuns to escape the vampires. I'm not sure how well their reasoning--nuns are poisonous to vampires--works, but they make it, with a little help from some vampire slayers. After that, it's a rather pleasant vacation and the return trip to Tackleford, where it looks like Tim is running for Mayor against Shelley's boss.

College Roomies from Hell!!! — It doesn't look like Mike will be making any attempt to renew his friendship with April anytime soon. Well, I sort of expected that. And then Dave tries to explain to Mike what happened with him, Satan, and God. Mike believes him, which is good, and manages to convince Dave to come along in the search for Roger. Unfortunately, Diana overhears part of their conversation, the part about Roger going crazy and killing a bunch of people, or maybe it was killing a bunch of people and going crazy. I'm surprised she doesn't confront Mike and Dave about it, and I wouldn't be surprised if she has stowed away in the car as they head out for the woods. The best idea that anyone has shown this week is when Mike suggests pooling their information about Satan. It's about time they tried working together on this thing. No one but Dave is doing very well on their own, and Dave had some divine help.

General Protection Fault — Nick's firing up the Mutex again. At first I thought there'd be a Sluggy crossover, as Nick had planned a trip to the universe of purple-haired Portugese speakers, but it looks like he's changed his mind since Ki was willing to dress the part. Now he plans to head for a pocket Universe, and the Gamester is worried because the Universe isn't so much a pocket. When that happens, it means there's the potential for some galaxy-destroying trouble.

Schlock Mercenary — Speaking of galaxy-destroying, Kevyn's ready to travel back in time and save the galaxy, and Captain Tagon while he's at it. First he has to explain what he's doing to his mercenary company, though. Meanwhile, he also explains a little bit of how this time-travelling will work to the rest of us.

The Rest of the Story: If you missed the last chapter, it's here, or you can see the whole story on one page.

This is the next chapter of Eyes in the Shadow, a continuing story involving dreams, visions, a demon, and one very skeptical and cynical Grad student. Although I had this whole chapter written over two weeks ago, it still took a great deal of time to get ready. It looks like I was right in thinking that these chapters would be some of the hardest to write. Hopefully, it's paid off, and it won't be a chore to read. I just wish I was as far ahead in the next chapter, but I only have a couple of paragraphs of that so far.

---

Chapter 11
Home

The most remarkable thing about the house was how small it was. Ryan had seen larger apartments. It was a white ranch with a small front porch and an attached one-car garage. Ryan didn’t think the garage would hold their rental car, even if it were otherwise empty, so he wasn’t surprised when they parked in the driveway. The yard was a decent size, with some sort of shrubs clustered near the porch, but Ryan couldn’t see much of it as none of the lights were on. It was nearly eleven, so Em’s family might have gone to bed, but Ryan still would have expected a light to be left on for them. In fact, most of the other small houses in this overcrowded neighborhood still had their front lights on.

“You did tell them we were coming, right, Em?” Dominic asked as Emily turned off the rumbling engine. When she switched the headlights off the yard became a dark island in the residential night.

“Not exactly,” she admitted as she got out of the car door.

“And what does that mean?” Dominic also stepped out of the car to continue the conversation over the roof. Ryan got out with them, but he immediately moved toward the front of the car, keeping his distance from Dominic.

“I was going to call them, really, but we were at a hotel and they would have charged a fortune to make a phone call. I thought about calling collect, but then Mom and Dad would have had to pay for it. So anyway I put it off, thinking I’d call them from a payphone, which would be cheaper than the hotel, but I kind of forgot about that until we got to Atlanta, and then we ran into Red-eyes. I was thinking that I had to find a payphone and call them when I remembered that you were in town, so I called you instead, thinking that I could use your cell phone to call and it wouldn’t cost anything. Not that I just wanted to talk to you for your cell phone or whatever. I did ask to borrow it when we met up, remember? But you told me the battery was about dead and it was charging up in your room? After you went and got your stuff, I kind of forgot to ask if you had gotten your cell phone, what with all the running from Red-eyes again. Do you have your cell phone?”

Dominic sighed, a reaction that Ryan often had when Emily rambled. “Yes, I do. Not that it does us much good now. We’re just going to have to ring the doorbell and wake them up.”

“Uh, maybe not,” Ryan said. He had taken a look in the garage while Emily was talking, his keychain flashlight just penetrating the dust filmed glass. “I don’t see a car in here. Are you sure they’re home?”

“Why would they be gone?” Emily asked, coming up beside Ryan. Dominic followed. Ryan moved back, ostensibly to let Emily look, but also so he could turn to look at Dominic.

“Hmm, wasn’t there some kind of retreat this month?” Dominic asked. “I don’t remember which weekend it was, but it could be this one.”

“I was hoping they would be here, that they could help. What are we going to do now?” Emily asked.

“Don’t worry, Em. I’m sure they’ll be back tomorrow. We’ll just go inside and get some sleep tonight.”

Dominic rang the doorbell anyway, just to make sure no one was home, before taking out his key and letting them in. From the small living room where they entered, Ryan could see straight to the other side of the house, a sliding glass door in the next room, which looked like a dining room. The house didn’t have any hidden depth to make up for its lack in the other dimensions. Ryan wiped off his shoes on the floor mat to avoid tracking mud or sand or whatever was on his shoes onto the light blue carpet. He felt grimy all over; he was grimy. Wearing the same clothes for two days in a row while running through snow and falling into sand-filled wells could do that. He stepped onto the carpet and looked around. Ryan had become used to sharing an apartment with two other guys, so while he had grown accustomed to small living spaces, when guys shared a place the furnishing was sparse at best. The furniture here made the cramped space seem even smaller. The living room overflowed with it, with couches, and reclining chairs, and end tables, and lamps, and an entertainment center, and a gun cabinet, and a coffee table, and—Gun cabinet?

“Whoa, what’s with the weapons?” he asked. It was a cabinet set against the wall, with a cherrywood finish and two rows of drawers at the bottom and glass doors above, behind which were four rifles hanging on racks. One of them might have been a shotgun--Ryan really didn’t know all that much about firearms. There were locks on every opening, ensuring that no one could get in without a key. Or at least a prybar.

“What about them?” Emily asked.

“I thought your father was a minister.”

“So?”

“So? So?! What, is he an armed minister?”

“Around here, most of them are. He likes to go hunting with his friends, and do some sport shooting with the pistols. I’m a pretty good shot with the twenty-two myself.”

“Better than me,” Dominic said with a small smile.

“That’s because you always use the forty-five. The recoil on that thing throws off your aim.”

“You don’t have a key to that thing, do you?” Ryan asked nervously.

“Well, I left mine in my apartment. Dom has his key though, right?”

“Right,” Dominic affirmed. “Do you really think we’ll need the guns, Ryan?”

I’m much more concerned about you getting your hands on one. He couldn’t say that aloud, though, so he just shook his head. “I guess not.”

“Good,” Emily said. “Even if Red-eyes is demon-possessed, we don’t want to kill him. Especially if he’s demon-possessed. He’s not really to blame for his actions then.”

“I told you that he was dead,” Ryan growled, angry now. Hadn’t they believed him? “I don’t care whether the body was gone or not, there wasn’t any pulse! If I thought he was coming back, I’d recommend we arm ourselves to the teeth and keep shooting until he stays down, ’cause he’d be some sort of zombie! The reason we don’t need guns is because he’s gone for good!”

“Whoa, dude, calm down!” Dominic said. “We’re not doubting what you saw, but maybe what you saw isn’t all there was to it. I think we’re all agreed that he isn’t human, at least.”

You’re wrong. Red-eyes was human. It’s the shadow-thing that isn’t. That wasn’t dead, and it was probably with them right now. Was it speaking through Dominic’s mouth, just pretending to be him? If so, it must have stolen his memories, since it knew all the things that Dominic should. Or was Dominic still himself, while it was only beginning to take him over from the inside? Or had the red irises just been Ryan’s imagination or some trick of the light? He had spent most of the last day trying to convince himself that the things he was seeing were wild imaginings or optical illusions, and he hadn’t succeeded once. Too many times his stubborn disbelief had made him hesitate when he should have acted. From now on he would trust what his eyes told him, and they had told him that Dominic’s eyes had been just as red as Red-eyes’, which had happened right when the body had disappeared, and Ryan wasn’t even going to try to put a positive spin on that coincidence.

“Okay, okay,” Ryan said, forcing himself to calm down. “So what do you think we should do?”

“If you’re certain Red-eyes won’t be coming, then maybe we should just get some sleep. You can have my room, if you want, and I’ll sleep on the couch here,” Dominic said.

Next to the gun cabinet? I don’t think so! “No, I’ll take the couch,” said Ryan. “You can sleep in your own bed.”

Dominic shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He headed off to his room with his suitcase and laptop, pausing to hang his coat in the coat closet nearby and toss his keys on the dining room table. Ryan heard the door open and close.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Emily asked.

“Yeah, just…” Ryan dropped his voice to a near whisper. “Sit down: I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?” Emily asked, sitting down on the couch.

Ryan sat down next to her, at the very edge of the seat cushion as if ready to bounce to his feet and start pacing. He forced himself to stay where he was and ignore the butterflies in his stomach. Calm down, you’re not asking her on a date. No, just telling her that her brother is a demon. “Let’s say Red-eyes was demon-possessed or something,” Ryan began. He forced himself to look her in the eyes, primarily because this was important, but also so he could watch how she would react. This was the first time he’d admitted to her that he thought Red-eyes might have been a demon. She just continued to look at him, her tongue moistening her lips. Ryan forced himself to continue. “I’m pretty sure Red-eyes is dead, but that doesn’t mean the thing that was inside him is. It could possess… someone…”

Emily’s eyes widened. “Really? You’re… you are Ryan, right?”

“Not me!” he said more loudly than he intended. He dropped his voice again. “When we were standing by the pit, I thought… Dominic’s irises looked red.”

“I didn’t see anything,” she said. Emily wasn’t speaking softly at all, and Ryan kept expecting Dominic to come back through the doorway asking what they were talking about. Emily’s brow furrowed. “Besides, Dominic seems fine to me. Maybe it was just a trick of the light or whatever.”

“Emily, I’ve blamed everything I’ve seen over the last twenty-four hours on a trick of the light and I’ve been wrong every time. This time I’m going to believe what I saw.”

“But it doesn’t make any sense! Christians can’t be possessed,” she said.

“I’ve had just about enough of your condescension,” he said, angry. “Yeah, I’m not a Christian, and the more you keep treating me like that means I’m a fool or a devil, the gladder I am that I’m not. Don’t you dare look down on me!” He realized that he was shaking his right fist at her.

“But,