I took another box of books to Half Price Books, this time earning a whopping $6.50 for the 30-or-so books I cleared from my shelves. I've got at least another box of books that I'll be able to get something for and about that much in books that don't have covers and thus are worthless. At least, worthless in the sense that Half Price Books will give me nothing for them. They will, however, take them off my hands and pass them on to some other outlet which will, in turn, pass them on to people who might want to read them.

Reuse. Renew. Recycle.


 

From XKCD.

From: Mr. Zebulon Pike, Deadwood, Dakota Territory
To: Mrs. Hannelore West, Kingsport, Mass.
September 1879

Cherished Sister,

I have, of late, been negligent in my duty to keep you informed of my activities here on the frontier and, I admit with some reluctance, that I have been somewhat depressed of late. I am a scientist and even though I have been encountering nearly inexplicable wonders; ancient spirits that animate the corpses of the dead, conglomerate constructs of flesh and bone and, of course, Dr. Hellstromme's giant iron mechanical men, each new wonder has been met, not with scientific inquiry and experimentation but with explosives and copious amounts of gunfire.

Today, however, is a new day. I have slipped the shackles of conventional science and stepped into an entirely new world.

I have already related to you of our banishment from the Sioux Nations in spite of our aid in suppressing murderous demon-possessed monstrosities and our subsequent encounters with Hellstromme's automatons in the Montana Territory. How frustrated I had been for in each encounter the devices, instead of breaking down when sufficient damage was applied, would detonate, destroying themselves so completely as to offer no meaningful data as to their construction. But, through the summer I formulated a theory of antipodal magnotomic ionization which I hoped would prove capable of capturing one of these machines.

The past several weeks have been divided between fleeing Hellstromme's mercenaries and, lacking proper tools and materials, attempting to construct the weapon that would finally capture one of the succession of infernal machines he has sent against us. Finally returning to Deadwood and my laboratory, I was able to complete my device, and not a moment too soon.

Several days ago, fliers were circulated throughout the town not only offering significant sums of money for our capture and delivery to the hands of Dr. Darius Hellstromme but warning dire retribution on any who would harbor us. Several of Hellstromme's men were about the town, agitating the residents and even their execution, to use an indelicate but otherwise accurate term, by Messrs. Tobin, Pace, Bongiovi and Sombrero, failed to allay fears. Many of the townspeople took flight to nearby Lead, Central City or even as far as Bismark. Our neighbors in China Alley simply fled to the hills.

We had expected at least several days with which to prepare but the assault began the next morning. And assault it was. A score of gunmen and one of Hellstromme's mechanical men of war brazenly striding down the main street with rockets and gattling guns blazing. Mr. Tobin, with his unearthly ability to walk without harm through the most whithering fire, went out to engage them on their own terms while the rest of us held back, our vantage from the roof and attic of the House of Pancakes.

The advance seemed to me overly showy and ineffective and, looking behind, beyond the tents of China Alley and up the hill, came another automaton. It was smaller, perhaps the size of a bear, but it was taking a more stealthy approach. The approach was, however, revealed and I went downstairs to confront the machine in the back yard. I placed my secret weapon, a glass bottle atop a short rocket tube, on the end of the LeMat pistol you gave me.

I stepped out into the yard in an attempt to get a clear shot but the beast raised it's arm and launched a rocket of its own, forcing me to take cover again in the back hall. I stepped out again and, standing in full view, took my shot, closing my eyes for a moment to shield them from the backblast of my rocket's propulsion.

It was superlative! Unfolding before me as some slowed down kinetograph, opposing rockets passed in flight; his passing dramatically over my shoulder and mine smashing him squarely in the chest plate. The glass of the bottle shattered and the finely shredded iron filings inside spread into a glittering cloud, pushed apart by identical magnetic charges. Yet, in free air, such ionization cannot long endure. Polarity returned to the countless particulates and, finding a nearby ferrous mass, contracted as if under intelligent command.

At that moment, time seemed to snap back into focus and I needed to again dive for cover as the machine began firing it's gattling at me. I knew, however, that the millions of sharp iron fragments were relentlessly working their way into the delicate inner workings, fouling fine toothed gears and interrupting electric circuits. The machine smashed through the door and advanced on me in the hallway, slowed by the narrow confines and the metal tearing at its insides. I had a second projectile and instead of launching it with its rocket, I threw it at the automaton's head. Indoors, the reaction was even more swift and I could now hear the crying of dying mechanisms.

It reached out with it's hand and as it ground to a halt, I began to laugh. It was if I could see through it's think iron plates and witness the filings digging grooves into fine brass clockwork, fowling chains and pistons, killing it from the inside out. My comrades, having dispatched the other automaton and either killing or setting to flight its infantry support, heard my laughter from out in the street and rushed to my aid, mistaking it for tortured cries of pain. They later told me it disturbed them thoroughly.

I am sitting now in the House of Pancakes, making sure the automaton remains inert while the others obtain for me blocks, tackle and a cart to move it to where I can begin the process of dissection. If it had not destroyed my lab, I would . . .

My lab. . . The handbills. . . The wanted posters that Hellstromme's men distributed in Deadwood to foment panic in advance of their attacks. My face was not among them. . . The frontal assault. . . The stealthy flanking approach. . . When I took cover in here, the automaton launched its missiles at my workshop rather than at me. It pursued me inside rather than firing its gattling. . . It was me. . . It was me. . . Hellstromme is after me. . .

Absolutely magnificent!

I have. . . I have an arch-nemesis!

Z


 

And so, mob rule in the state of Main has taken away the rights of its citizens to marry who they love.

The only consolation is that those bigots days are numbered. The trend is towards marriage equality and eventually the rights of the people, of ALL the people, will be reestablished.

Jesus Venn Diagram from LOL God.

 

A Vampire Steampunk Young Adult Romance from Questionable Content.

 

There is Halloween candy still in the bowl and November has only just begun and already the Christmas season is upon us. The holiday Muzak is playing in the stores. The million dollar nativity is going up on the USX plaza. There was a woman yelling on the street corner "calling out the child molesters in Jesus' name." Well, that last one happens all the time, not just during the lead up to Christmas. In any case, the so-called War on Christmas has officially begun.


 

It began at Marcon when I picked up a pith helmet. It was an actual pith pith helmet from Blonde Swan and, having bought such a thing, I was committed to creating an appropriate costume around it. Thus began my search for all the other parts.

I could have simply gotten a safari jacket and been done with it, like so many of the Great White Hunter or Colonial Explorer costumes are, but I didn't want to do that for several reasons. First and foremost, because it is somewhat common, I didn't want to run with the crowd. Second, such a look would require that I have a dress shirt and tie under the jacket and walking around at a convention is hot enough already. I decided that I would modify the jacket to have the high collar of the British infantry tunics of the Boer wars.

Jacket and Tunic

When I got the jacket from Gentleman's Emporium, I worked out that I would tear the lower pockets off, replace the buttons and could use the material in the unused belt to remake the collar. The flaw in that was that I didn't know quite how I was going to do that. I had a rough idea but needed someone with experience to work out the details and do the actual sewing because I have no sewing talent whatsoever. I called my mom.

Over at my parent's house, we were able to work out how to turn the belt into a collar. We ripped out the back seam that ran down the center and one of the edging seams. The crease that remained would become the top of the collar and what had been the center edge was sewn along the inside of the collar.

It's pretty difficult to describe so let me throw it onto my scanner:

Collar detail illustration

This is looking at the underside of the collar on my right side. You can see that the original collar is still there, underneath the new collar to provide a little support. The edge you see at the top is now the bottom of the collar after it folds down and is the original edge of the belt. That extra bit of material you see overlapping the original collar at the left is originally the middle seam of the belt, where it was sewn into a tube and then flattened and edged to make it a belt. The holes of that ripped seam was lined up with the base seam of the original collar and the crease that was once the edge of the belt became the top of the collar where it folds over.

The front of the collar was cut and edged and some hooks needed to be added to hold it together. In the end it is much like the infantry tunic but somewhat exaggerated. Even with the original collar underneath to provide some support, the collar still has a tenancy to not stay up properly. There's not enough material to sew in a standard collar stay but my wife indicates that there is an iron-on material that will serve that purpose.

I replaced the buttons myself. Tying a square knot is apparently all the talent you need to successfully do that.

I needed a belt. I ordered a proper Sam Browne belt from Sportsman's Guide. Following their size table and description that indicated they were sized large to fit over clothing, I ordered a size large. It was far too small as I could barely get the belt around my waist to connect at the first buckle holes. I sent it back and ordered two sizes up. It turned out to be almost too large but it was much easier to punch a few more buckle holes in the leather to shrink it to fit.

LeMat and Holster

The Sam Browne-style shoulder strap would be necessary to hold up the gun and holster. I have a replica LeMat revolver and it is a bear of a gun, weighing in at over 3.5 pounds. All the holsters I found online for LeMats were cavalry-style holsters with flaps but since I wanted to show off the pistol, I would need to make my own. I commissioned a friend of mine to come over and help me out. In the end, it's a reasonable first attempt. I chose to use snaps to hold the belt loop on to make it easier to put on and take off the holster but the weight of the gun overwhelms the snaps at times. Also, the weight of the game pulls the gun away from the belt. To workaround both of these problems I took a thigh strap from another holster I had and wrapped it around the holster to cinch it up. It's not an ideal solution but the strap and buckle breaks up the lines of the holster in an aesthetically pleasing fashion so it will do.

A few other do-dads and accessories and it was complete.

Zebulon Vitruvius Pike! Gentleman Explorer!

The presentation leaves something to be desired as it's taken in front of a closet at a Halloween party. I hate small camera flashes as well. I should be in a jungle environment or, at the very least, outside. WindyCon is coming up in a few weeks an I'll probably be wearing this around on either that Friday or Sunday (or both).

Crossposted on Steampunk Fashion.

 

“Most of the candy sold during this season has been dedicated and prayed over by witches,”

- - - From a Kimberly Daniels article (that has since been pulled) from the Christian Broadcasting Network's website.


 

Steampunk display at the Waterfront Barnes and Noble

They have the Vandermeer Steampunk anthology (have it already), 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (have 3 copies), The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (have 2 copies), Leviathan (that I'll be getting when it comes out in paperback) and Boneshaker (that I almost bought right then but, sorry B&N, I'll probably be ordering on Amazon next week).

I don't know about the steampunkiness of the other selections on the shelf, but if it were me setting up the display, I probably would have thrown in First Men in the Moon (just because Wells needs to be represented) and the Steamboy DVD.

The steampunk genre seems to be growing quite vigorously. Huzzah!