Canada is Better at Potatoes than America.

Apologies to my Legions of Fans, I’ve been visiting with relatives in the old country and haven’t had a moment to post since last week. Please accept my humble demonstration of remorse. Imagine me pawing at the hem of your blessed garments like a dog for a moment.Imagine you hear a slight wimper escape my lips as I stare up at you with eyes that say I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. 

Satisfied? Good. 

Now I’d like to get back to something I’ve been mulling  of late. Namely:Canada is better at potatoes than America. 

I know this will ruffle some feathers, but I’m tired of pretending this isn’t so. In addition to the masterpiece that is poutine, the Canadian race has simply outstripped their southern kin in every way when it comes to the mashing, scalloping, roasting, and (above all) frying of these excellent nightshades.

Crisp without wandering into potato chip territory, the Canadian french fry is a badge of honor for all. Even the lowliest McDonald’s is capable of turning out a decent frite north of the border. 

I cannot claim to know the reason for the divergence in quality between two nations that share so much. I suspect the cold has something to do with it. Hot carbs are always welcome on a cold winter’s night.That doesn’t explain why America is so much better at donuts though.

Maybe it’s cultural.Canada has a larger percentage of Scottish, English, aND Irish settlers. Those people know their way around a potato like a Kardashian knows the plastic surgeon’s office. 

Whatever the reason, I am greatful for it every time I get potato based products here.

Lovecraft on Youth, Imagination, and Experience

Not bad, sir. Not bad at all:

There are not many persons who know what wonders are opened to them in the stories and visions of their youth; for when as children we listen and dream, we thing but half-formed thoughts, and when as men we try to remember, we are dulled and prosaic with the poison of life. But some of us awake in the night with strange phantasms of enchanted hills and gardens, of fountains that sing in the sun, of golden cliffs overhanging murmuring seas, of plains that stretch down to sleeping cities of bronze and stone, and of shadowy companies of heroes that ride caparisoned white horses along the edges of thick forests; and then we know that we have looked back through the ivory gates into that world of wonder which was ours before we were wise and unhappy.

-H.P. Lovecraft, Celephais

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‘Nuclear War’ Card Game, 1965 — We Are the Mutants

I love this. Something is wrong with me.

Originally designed by Douglas Malewicki, an American aerospace engineer and eclectic inventor, the object of this satirical simulation of cataclysmic nuclear war was to be sole survivor, although final retaliatory strikes often eliminated all players in a deadly chain reaction…

via ‘Nuclear War’ Card Game, 1965 — We Are the Mutants

Read My Shoddy Work: Is it Not Midnight pt. 11

It’s another light week over here at the Miller’s Tales Blogatorium and Bistro. But that in no way excuses you from reading this shoddily written and virtually unedited free segment in my current work in progress “Is it Not Midnight?”

If you like stories with spooky cults and ritual killing that ultimately turn out OK, this serial is a ham-handed attempt to satisfy your preferences.

If you haven’t been reading along so far. You can catch up here:

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3,  Part 4,  Part 5,  Part 6,  Part 7,  Part 8,  Part 9, and Part 10 here.

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History is More than Facts.

One of the most frustrating aspects of reading or watching a bad period piece is the inability of the writer/director/whomever to remove the modern cultural assumptions from the work. Now, no one can ever completely achieve this, but so many are positively injecting modern morals and prejudices where they don’t belong. It’s distracting and grating. Continue reading