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Replacement Therapy

I watch a lot of British television–a lot for an American, that is–and not just on BBC America. I watch Masterpiece Theater, I subscribe to Acorn TV, and I even buy DVDs direct from the UK so I can see some shows not available any other way (“New Tricks” is a good example). But there’s one thing I hate about British television series: They’re too damned short.

Now that my beloved “Ripper Street” has completed its stingy 8-episode Season One, I was jonesing for a new series. I saw the ads for the new show called “Orphan Black,” but to be honest, I wasn’t going to watch. Then an advert for the opening 3-minutes popped up on my Facebook feed and I thought, why not?

In the first minutes, we meet Sara (Tatiana Maslany) at a train station somewhere near New York City. She’s a Brit, and she has serious problems. But whatever she’s up against, it’s  nothing compared to the what’s bothering that woman over there, crying at the end of the train platform. Sara goes over to the woman, and discovers that the woman looks just like her…right before the woman steps in front of the oncoming train. Sara, distraught, has a moment of panic, then a moment of clarity; she grabs the dead woman’s purse and flees the scene.

That’s the three-minute setup, and it was pretty good. Good enough, in fact, to get me to plunk it on the DVR and watch the whole episode.

Is it as good as “Ripper Street”? No. Is it better than most things on American network television? Yes.

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It Was a What, Now?

It’s one of those things I dreaded. A reader of the Fallen Cloud Saga has asked me what species of dinosaurs I used in the series. Don’t get me wrong, it’s terrific that readers want this kind of detail and “behind the scenes” info, and I’m more than happy to provide it, but I know this will only give ammunition to Paleozoic anoraks to shoot holes in my world-building techniques. The row that ensued over my leaving Quebec under French control was epic. I can only imagine what will happen with this.

But, rather than just a cold list of species, I’ll give a little of my thinking to the scenario as well.

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The Seattle Art Museum (SAM) gets a lot of press. With its prominent location, its recent mega-buck expansion, and its “Hammering Man” sculpture out front, it gets noticed and it gets visited–a lot. SAM has an excellent permanent collection, spanning two millennia of art history and representing cultures from every continent, and it has a great space for traveling exhibitions, so it is deservedly the Belle of the Seattle Art Ball…but it’s not my favorite.

We used to have a membership (kaching) but soon found that, if we weren’t interested in what was touring through the museum, we didn’t go, and since the visiting exhibitions stay at SAM a long time, we often ended up going only once a year.

Then we discovered The Frye.

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Amp That Vid

The eye is an incredible organ, but it has its limits. We can’t see infrared or ultraviolet, much less anywhere else along the massive electromagnetic spectrum. We can’t see very well at night or when we’re surrounded by a lot of reflected sunshine. The eye is particularly susceptible to defects, from myopia and astigmatism to cataracts and floaters–not unexpected in what is essentially a high-precision organic instrument, but definitely a limitation. Aeons ago, for example, someone with vision like mine would have had the nickname, “Food for Wolves.”

Another limitation of our otherwise remarkable eyes is that we can’t see subtle, minute shifts in light or color. Our eye (or, more accurately, our brain) averages them out, giving us a more stable view of the world than one in which we see the quaking of each individual leaf in a gentle breeze or the shudder of everything in the room as a heavy truck rolls by outside.

But a team of scientists at MIT have found that where our eyes fail us, a computer can give us a helping hand.

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Requiescat in Compost

Gossamer WheelToday, as wide-eyed robins tweedle at the bluing grey of the overcast Seattle dawn, I prepare to say farewell to an old friend.

Nearly twenty years ago, we bought this, our first house. It was a blitzkrieg day, viewing house after house, some empty, some occupied, some small, some large. Our realtor took us all across North-of-Seattle King County as we searched the MLS for a home in our price- and requirement-range. This house, which we dubbed “Three Trunks,” was the third one we saw, and on arrival we knew it was the house we wanted. The rest of the day, viewing 17 more homes, was pretty much just spent confirming that first fact.

We called it “Three Trunks” because in the front garden near the street was a sad old triple-trunked alpine fir. I don’t know why, but for some reason alpine firs were popular in this neighborhood, sometime around the mid-1970s. When we take walks around the borough, we see them here and there. All of them are wretchedly ugly, stressed, and usually unhealthy, primarily because (duh!) Seattle is not an alpine climate.

The alpine fir in our front garden is uglier than most. After we moved in, our neighbors gave us the 4-1-1 on the old thing and let’s put it this way: It bore the scars of war.

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Squeeze Play

Kurt R.A. GiambastianiIt’s a sad fact of life, but publishing is a business. Not only that, it’s a cutthroat business. So is bookselling.

With profit margins shrinking and the sudden surge in e-book sales, the entire industry is in an uproar, and nowhere more so than in good, old brick-and-mortar bookshops. Frankly, aside from a recent visit to the Mecca of Books (a thoroughly unsatisfactory visit, too, I might add), I can’t remember the last time I was in an actual bookstore.

Well, it just became a shooting war.

Stephanie Burgis, author of the beloved Kat books for young readers, recently posted about major developments between Simon & Schuster and Barnes & Noble (lots of ampersands there…sorry). She refers us to articles posted in the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal (both of which are worth a read), but here’s the bottom line:

Barnes & Noble has reduced [Simon & Schuster] book orders greatly, to almost nothing in the case of some lesser-known writers.

This, in my opinion, is the death-knell for B&N. If they don’t back off of this stance, I give them five years, at most.

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Black Gold

Black TrufflesFoodie Alert!

If you don’t know already, it’s black truffle season. What? What’s that? You can’t afford them? You refuse to pay $500/ounce for these bad boys?

I don’t blame you. I won’t pay that much for anything unless it’s going to save my frakking life. (Or my wife’s life, but don’t tell her. She’ll get a big head.)

So, where did I get these black beauties? No, I didn’t fly to France and take my snout for a walk in the woods. No, I didn’t waylay Gordon Ramsay on his way home from work. No, there isn’t some guy in a Pioneer Square alley with a trenchcoat and a gruff voice who says “Psst. Buddy. Looking for some fungi?” (Okay, maybe there is a guy like that, but (a) I haven’t met him and (b) he’s probably selling a different kind of mushroom.)

No, I found Oregon Mushrooms, a small(ish) but respected purveyor of mushrooms for over a decade. And they grow black truffles. Yep. Real black truffles. White ones, too (more about those after the jump).

Expensive? Well, yes, but at $20/ounce, it’s not impossible, at least not for a once-a-year treat. Continue Reading »