X-Bow

According to Wikipedia, the crossbow is a type of weapon based on the bow, consisting of a horizontal bow-like assembly mounted on a stock, which shoots projectiles called 'bolts' or 'quarrels'.  The crossbow, as it's come to be known, has played a significant role throughout history, especially in the greater European and Asian continent, as well as the Mediterranean region.

The traditional bow and arrow has been a common tool since the dawn of recorded history, which required considerable strength and skill to master.  Comparatively, the crossbow possessed much of the same accuracy, but required much less training and expertise.  In ancient and medieval times, the bowmen were considered to be of a separate and superior caste, while just about anyone could be drafted to use the crossbow.

In the modern day, the crossbow, like it's cousin, has transformed and evolved many times, still as common and popular as ever.  Today, it is used primarily in sport and hunting, and with the popularity of The Walking Dead's Daryl Dixon, played by Norman Reedus, a whole new interest in the crossbow has been sparked.

The crossbow has always proven it's worth throughout the annals of time and I'm certain it will continue to do so, long into the future, whether there's a zombie apocalypse or not.  Where it seems to be a useless weapon, in my humble opinion, is sometime long long ago, in a galaxy far far away from our own.

In the Star Wars universe, Wookiees were a civilization advanced enough to have developed modern tank-like weapons and the ability for space travel, yet many of their hand-to-hand combat weapons in their arsenal, were still of a primitive-based design.  Bow staffs and spears were used in addition to laser blasters and cannons.  The crossbow is also a popular weapon used by the Wookiee armies.  It seems peculiar, to me, that the Wookiees had the foresight to develop stronger more destructive weapons, but still avoided casting aside their more inadequate weapons.  Though I never looked real close during the war on the Wookiee planet in Episode III, Revenge of the Sith, I'm sure there were still some Wookiee soldiers using rocks and stones.

The most prominent Wookiee of them all, Chewbacca, eventually left his home planet for a life of adventure, skipping around the galaxy with his companion, Han Solo, and though there were many instances that occurred in the time in between, the Wookiee never cast aside the main weapon of his people, the crossbow.

An impressive weapon to look at, intimidating in some instances, overall the weapon is bulky and inadequate.  For one, the crossbow (as it was used on the planet Earth) was designed for the ease of shooting ballistic projectiles like bolts and/or arrows.  In all of the times that I've bore witness to the use of the crossbow by Chewbacca, never once have I seen a quiver or any ballistics of any sort, being flung out by his trusty crossbow.  Hell! If you look closely at Chewies Bowcaster (pictured right), you'll notice that there's nowhere for a projectile, of any sort, to be launched from this outdated weapon.  

Filmmakers are in such a rush to design unique looking weapons for their sci-fi movies, that they set aside practicality for whatever looks cool and dangerous.  As stated before, Chewbacca's crossbow, looks impressive and even intimidating, to some degree, but it's better served as a museum piece.  An artifact worthy of spectacle and storytelling, rather than heated combat.  An outdated relic of ancient weaponry has no place in the  future, a long long time ago.

Double Deuce

When the name or term 'Double Deuce' is Googled, a number of responses come up.  First, and foremost, is the name of the bar that Patrick Swayze handed ass-kicking's out in the movie Road House.  Another bar and grill that comes up, likely because of where I'm situated in the world, is the bar I used to frequent years 'n' years ago during my drunken stupidity era, then later on, the meeting place where friends and I would consume buffalo wings or the daily special before taking in a movie on 'cheap ass Tuesdays' at the nearby cinema.  That bar no longer exists.  Not by name anyway.  Today it goes by an Irish name that I cannot recall.

The terminology, on the other hand, defines it as something completely different.  By definition, while it sounds country and/or western, what a 'double deuce' is....  Well...  On second thought.  You be  the judge.  The definition that I read online was as follows: A 'double deuce' is the act of when one person is seated on the toilet, taking a shit and a second person sits on the first persons lap and shits through the space between the first person's legs.  Now I shouldn't jump to conclusions, but, this sounds a little gay and quite a bit more daring than I'd ever care to witness.  Let's put it this way; Super Dave Osborne was an amazing stuntman in his day, but not even Super Dave would try such a daunting feat.  Not even with Genuine Saskatchewan Seal Skin Bindings.

I was visiting my mother's house this morning, helping her change the handle on her front door.  After finishing the task, I suddenly had to rush to the washroom.  On her toilet, there's an apparatus that raises the seat up about six inches.  She's on a waiting list to have a hip replacement and attached the seating device early, so as to get the hang of it before the day of her surgery comes.  Unfortunately, for everyone who visits, they also get to practice pooping as if they'd just had a hip replacement.  Thus was my experience.  After conducting my business, I returned to the kitchen where we'd been chatting.  I marveled in two things when  I sat down.  One was remembering a blog that I wanted to write involving the Zombie Apocalypse.  The second was being reminded of the illustrious 'Double Deuce'.  I quickly explained to my mother, who was not privy to the term, and regaled with the response that it gave her.  Normally, her brand of humour shies away from the vulgar, but she laughed loudly at the premise.  I don't know if she'll share the new found knowledge with anyone or if she'll be able to properly retell the story, but those fleeting moments of my mom laughing and shaking uncontrollably, were all too precious for me.

"Double Deuce" sounds like a country 'n' western term and taking a shit between your buddy's legs is pretty gay.., so maybe what I've said for years and years about country music turning people gay, may be true, after all.  I've always stated that it (country music) makes women think about men in tight-fittin' jeans and that it makes men think about men in tight-fittin' jeans.  I actually concocted a joke from that premise once, but nobody understood it.  After a few confused looks and head scratches, I aborted the premise, citing "It's not funny if I have to explain it to you..."

 Guess it was too intellectual for them, or something.

The Zombie Apocalypse

A short while ago, I watched a "science" show on a zombie-like virus that would eventually infect the entire world.  The show was on a science channel and spoke mostly of "what ifs", but much of the speculation was based in actual science.  The premise, essentially, began with a breaching whale, of all things, that lands atop a small sailing vessel.  The survivors are beaten up pretty bad, but are rushed to a nearby hospital.  Unfortunately, their injuries are far too severe and they succumb soon after arriving.  Unbeknownst to medical staff, however, is the unseen virus that exists.  Acquired from the whale that struck their boat, the two victims of this maritime tragedy are also infected with the rabies virus.  Even though they are deceased, medical staff contract the deadly virus and soon begin showing symptoms.  At this point of the science program, the pandemic really begins to snowball.  Eventually, the world is over run and humanity, as we know it today, is lost to the annals of time.  The program was a thing of pure fiction.  A form of accepted adult entertainment, but real enough to leave a grain of sand in the back of your mind, just large enough to make you think.., "What if?"  

Fast-forward to today, where there's word of a major viral outbreak in West Africa.  Formerly known as 'Zaire ebolavirus', it's now known simply as the Ebola Virus.  (Zaire was dropped, I suspect, because the stigma of a deadly virus really hurt the tourism of Zaire.)  Without getting into the thick of it, the virus, in it's simplest of terms is: It begins with an onset of influenza-like stage which includes symptoms like chills, sore throat, headaches and pain in the joints, muscles and chest.  The central nervous system is majorly disrupted with the development of confusion, seizures and sometimes even coma.  And that's the mild part.  Eventually, lesions form on the skin, followed by major bruising and eventually hemorrhaging.  The actuality of the disease is much more in depth than this, obviously.  Suffice it to say, it's not a cool way to be taken out in this world.  Having a vending machine fall on you after it steals your quarter.  Now THAT is a way to die, my friend.  Currently, according to Wikipedia (where I obtained this delightful description) says that there is no known cure for this affliction.

So I'm laying in bed this morning, sleeping very lightly with the TV on in the background.  I have it set to a news channel and I repeatedly hear a story about two aid workers in West Africa who contracted the deadly disease and are now in peril.  They've been quarantined in Africa, but are now being sent back to America for treatment.  According to the news story, the Ebola virus has never existed in the western hemisphere, but soon it will.  The patients are being flown, one-by-one, under triple layered protection, to somewhere around Atlanta, Georgia. (This is the same area where "The Walking Dead" takes place.  Coincidence?) (Yes, actually.)  Each patient will be on a gurney surrounded by a protective plastic tent, which will exist inside another protective plastic tent.  Caregivers will be wearing hazmat-like suit and treatment throughout the transit will be given via thick rubber gloves that are at the side of the initial protective plastic tent.  Great care and attention has been given to the seriousness of this situation and anyone who is familiar with horror and tragedy movies, you know that so much attention to safety and prevention is just aching for failure.  Someone's going to tear their suit, be too ashamed to admit to it, rush home to kiss their wife and play with the kids and eventually, everyone in the greater Atlanta-area are f*cked, and eventually even me, way up here in Saskatchewan is going to be inflicted...  Selfish motherf*ckers...  But I digress.

I'm sure the reasoning behind why these people were volunteering in West Africa was of noble intent, but it's unselfish acts like this that are usually the most selfish.  Just because they wanted to stand out as being "heroic", supplying aid and rescue to those unlucky enough to be born into a shitty life, these people may eventually cause the end of the world.  With so much aid to be given at home, why fly half way around the world, placing the rest of us in jeopardy?

When asked why these two aid workers deserved to be given treatment in America, it was stated it was because they were Americans and because they gave so selflessly to help those in need.  I call bullshit!  By bringing them back to America, you're stating that the level of medicine in West Africa pales in comparison to that of Western civilization.  Of course, this IS true.  I doubt dancing around a fire, chanting incoherent rants will rid anyone of the hiccups let alone the Ebola virus.  At the same time, though, by bringing them home, you're proving to the world, that being an American is superior to everything and everyone else.  Maybe that's true.  I'm not to judge the validity of that belief.

The Ebola virus is contracted by contact with infected monkeys, fruit bats and pigs.  How someone comes in contact with two of these three things, is beyond me.  Pigs, I understand, because bacon is f*cking awesome.  Fruit bats confuse me.  They are only a few inches long and what fruit they eat, is hardly enough sustenance for even the hungriest of Africans.  I mean, what the f*ck is one grape going to do for ya?  As for coming in contact with infected monkeys...  You'd think people would've gotten the hint after catching AIDS from these motherf*ckers back in the 80s.  Now people are f*cking them again?  Is the gene pool so limited in Africa, that men have to take to the jungles for some sexy time with promiscuous monkeys?

It's written that to contract the Ebola virus, one needs to come in contact with the bodily fluids of an infected creature.  Blood, mucous & urine.  Semen, I've read is another example...  Other examples include, contact with contaminated medical equipment. (It's like nobody knows they can boil water with fire to sterilize this shit!)  The lack of usage of protective clothing like gloves or surgical masks.  The virus is not an airborne contagion, but you get some dumb motherf*cker sneezing in your face, and you're f*cked.  And given my, albeit limited, exposure to foreigners, considerations like "covering their mouths or noses in the event of coughing or sneezing, is not among their strong points".  I caught many colds from face-to-face conversations with the Filipino folks I used to work with.

The outspoken Donald J. Trump tweeted out a couple of comments via his Twitter feed, and though he's full of shit most of the time, I have to agree with him on these points he's made.

1. "Ebola patient will be brought to the US in a few days - now I know for sure that our leaders are incompetent. KEEP THEM OUT OF HERE!"
   
2. "Stop the ebola patients from entering the US. Treat them, at the highest level, over there. THE UNITED STATES HAS ENOUGH PROBLEMS!"

They're both valid points.  Why tempt fate by bringing this shit to North America.  You're just putting the rest of us in jeopardy.  Why punish us for doing the right thing and minding our own f*cking business?  You watch.  Some kind of shit will go down.  No one will own up to it right away.  The virus will get out.  People will die.  The government will label the virus some other media-savvy name, so as to divert attention away from the strain being identical to the Zaire ebolavirus.

I think this statement sums it up the best...

The Los Angeles Times reported that sixty-three percent of American families are now considered dysfunctional. Good. 'Cause that means when Armageddon really happens, thirty-seven percent of this population is going to "lose their minds". "Oh my God, the world is over!"  Us sixty-three percent?  We're going to go, "Hey... there's no one watching the Lexus dealership!  We're going to the Apocalypse with leather and a CD changer!"

- Christopher Titus, Norman Rockwell Is Bleeding

Tainted Meat

I live in a 4-level split home.  It's in a nice neighbourhood, with very little or no crime.  I live near a couple of schools and a high school.  There's even a church or two down the street, if the urge ever comes to me to go pray or something.  I love my home very very much, but in recent weeks and months, I've begun looking at my home in a very different way.  My house is NOT "zombie-proof".

The main floor has a big bay window facing the street and patio doors to the rear, both providing great visibility to the undead, if they ever decide to reanimate and roam the earth.  As well, the living room and spare bedroom, also have large windows, which would provide a determined zombie, with brains on the mind, to gain access to my home.  These are the things that freak the shit out of me, late at night when I'm watching "The Walking Dead" or any of the "Resident Evil" movies.  What the hell would I do, if such an event were to occur?  I don't own any weapons, not that I'd be a very good shot anyway, as I found out last year when taking target practice with a f*cking BB gun.  I seem to shake too much, while holding the heavy instrument.  I'm such a chick!

My sister's house is perfect.  A one level home with limited windows facing front, excellent window coverings on all, and best of all, direct entry into the garage.  So if escape is necessary, no one is placed in danger of being ravaged.  As for me, I have to leave my front door, then fumble with keys to get into my garage, all the while fighting off hungry zombies.  I'll have my work cut out for me, if the occasion should ever arise.  Perhaps I should have "zombie drills" in the meantime, to get myself in proper preparedness.

The thing I don't completely understand about zombies, though, is what drives them to crave human meat?  Does it taste like chicken?  Or more specifically, brains!  Why do so many zombies crave human brains?  And I also wonder, has there ever been a zombie who bore into a human brain, only to sit back and grunt, "Aaargh.  Thisss isss terrrribllllle...!  Wherrre'ssss a Mickey D'ssss?"  And what if a person was a vegan before they were a zombie?  Would they rather carve into a head of lettuce?

The entire idea of a Zombie Apocalypse is so preposterous.  In watching the season finale of "The Walking Dead", there was a production note saying that on the night of filming, the air was so cool, that the breath could be seen from the actors playing the zombies.  So post-production had to go over every frame of film and erase the breathe via CGI.  This raised some questions with me.  If a zombie does not breathe,  how are they able to grunt and groan or in some movies, speak the word "brains".  In order to squeak, squeal, grunt, groan, howl or holler, air needs to pass over the vocal chords.  If the undead don't breath, how are they able to do all of these things?

This isn't the only question to cross my mind, either.  Another logical conclusion seems to be eluded from every zombie-esque type film of television show.  I'm not sure if the subject has been broached in the comic book, that "The Walking Dead" is derived from, but:  With all the meat and brains that zombies take in, do they shit?  Why is it you never see a zombie squatting in a street or an alley or next to a bush, pinching out a soft gooey loaf of shit?  I doubt that they'd wipe off any excess.  They're rotting corpses, after all.  The smell of shit, might be a blessing in comparison.

If zombies do indeed shit, it is possible, I suppose, that they'd do it right in their pants.  Proper hygiene seems pretty low on their list of priorities.  Most of them, don't even comb their own hair.  What they do do, however, is maintain a, somewhat, healthy wardrobe.  Of all the zombie movies I've had the privilege of watching, the zombies have always kept their private parts private.  I'm not some kind of sicko hoping to see naked rotting titties, but one has to wonder.  The clothing always seems to be tattered and torn, but never enough that zombies are left roaming the countryside, au naturel.  It's like the Incredible Hulk, in the sense that Bruce Banner is a smallish man, yet when he loses his cool, and becomes the behemoth man-beast, all his clothes tear away, except for his trousers which stretch to accommodate his incredible size.  Just as the lowly zombie tears and rots away, his trousers (or her pant suit) stays intact just enough to cover the necessities.  I suppose this is a good thing, as zombies tend to "live" off the land, just as beatniks and hippies do.

So that being said.  In the end, I haven't anything to be afraid of.  I can sit idly by in the comforts of my own home, watching my television set and drinking from my glass, safe in the fact that even if a Zombie Apocalypse were to arise, there's nothing to fear, because who's afraid of a f*cking hippy?  Not this guy!