Aliens in This World

An ordinary Catholic and a science fiction and fantasy fan.

Monday, October 24, 2005

St. Simon the Zealot

Today we remember St. Jude Thaddaeus, who is known for being the saint of the impossible. But St. Simon was an even more lost cause -- a Zealot. Either he was the kind of Zealot determined to prove he was more pious than thou, or he was the sort of Zealot freedom-fighter that isn't realllll far off from terrorism. (Their Latin name was Sicarius, daggerman, because the assassins among them would carry daggers under their clothes, slip up to their victim, and stab him the midst of a crowd, then slip away again.) Yep, it wasn't glamorous Judas who was into all that. He was mainstream. Simon was the moonbat. (And him and Matthew together in the same band... ouch.)

If Simon's the same guy who was second bishop of Jerusalem, then he was also one of Our Lord's cousins. And he lived long enough to have to flee Jerusalem for Pella on the strength of Jesus' prophecy, and then watch as Jerusalem was slowly starved into submission -- a time of horror you can read in Josephus. It wasn't a happy thing for a former moonbat like Simon to have to watch. If Jesus hadn't called him, he would have died with them.

Weekend Report

Well, after all the sound and fury, I had a really good time at OVFF. I think all that letting off a little steam beforehand helped, so thank you, dear readers, for your patience! But it seems that everybody had a better time than they'd expected. Maybe I'm not the only one who's been a bit stressed by recent conventions. Almost everybody seemed in the mood to hang out and chat about anything but politics, to which I say YAY!

As expected, my song didn't win for "Best Space Opera Song". How to describe the equivalent? Hmm. How's about being up against Carmen, Norma, Madame Butterfly, and Tosca? Not exactly a big surprise not to win, is what I'm saying. Heck, I didn't vote for me.

(I really couldn't, since it's not really a "space opera song". Okay, so it takes place in space and sounds sorta kinda like a lied, but that's not the same thing.... Also, given the competition....)

All the same, I enjoyed the chance to be broadcast on "filk radio" and to go to the banquet. I am deeply grateful for the support of all the voters, and very humbled, too.

The final jam was, as always, nifty. I was also visited by the sudden realization that all cowboy songs could easily be turned into surfer songs simply by the application of the correct riffs. Others concurred, and the name "Emperor Norton and His Imperial Surf Rangers" was invented. Spiked helmets and baggies.

The only dim spot on the weekend was that Greyhound didn't get me home in time to go to Mass. Sigh. Honestly, I need a car. If I had a car, I could just stay up until dawn and then go to Mass. Also, car seats are a lot wider than bus seats. Of course, first I have to get my license. And learn to drive on the highway without killing anyone.

All nice ideas. Too bad I still have no hand-eye coordination to speak of.