Weekly Briefing from the North Texas Apocalypse Bunker, 05/24/24

Heavy is the Head Edition

Administration would like to formally apologize for the tardiness of this missive. I know some of you are champing at the bit to get this in your eyeholes as soon as you possibly can, and I can understand that completely. How else are you going to plan for the upcoming week? In this case, we were distracted by other Bunker Duties that required our complete attention and  made it difficult to concentrate on the newsletter. We will try to do better next week.

Proof of life 05/21/24. That fried pie is a slice of buttery, flaky, chewy heaven.

Blog Activity

Of late, I’ve been posting every Monday on the blog—the actual blog, the blog blog, as opposed to this excellent email delivery system. The topic on the site has been role-playing game theory, philosophy, and lots of personal anecdotes from past games and events. It’s called “Table Talk,” and like everything else you’re getting from me at the moment, it’s free. If you’re into nuts and bolts conversation behind the GM’s screen, give it a look-see, won’t you?

Additional YouTubery

Not to be outdone, the Official Conan the Barbarian channel on YouTube is live and actively posting videos and interviews. for those of you planning on attending Howard Days in a few weeks, this is the perfect warm-up for you, as many of the people in the videos will be on hand this year.

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Hello Darkness, My Old Friend

I suppose there’s an assumption that many people have when it comes to things like mental health; this idea that, once you fix whatever is bugging you, you’re done, and can move on. For some things, yeah, time heals all wounds, and the further away you move from an event, the easier it gets to process when it comes back up again.

But for other stuff, not so much. There’s a lot of pebbles in my metaphorical shoe that have collected over the years and when you get a rock in your shoe, there’s only so far you can walk before you have to stop, take off your shoe and shake out the debris. The thing is, the more walking you do, the more pebbles you end up collecting.

I’m sure there are other metaphors that are more eloquent, but I’m tired and creatively exhausted right now, so this is where we are; me trying to cleverly state that yeah, I’m going through a patch, and when that happens, you have to stop and shake out your shoes.

I was raised Texan, which means...well, a whole lot. But in this case, if my arm was hanging by a loose flap of skin, squirting blood everywhere, I am only allowed by law to say, “Ah, it’s all right, just gimme a paper towel.” Stoicism is so ingrained in our subculture, it might as well be genetic. Thank God I never got any of the garden-variety Puritanism of our wider USA, or I’d be emotionally stunted and well on my way to a heart attack, because anything that interrupts the Flow of Work is diabolical, and can only be prayed away. We are, collectively, a hot mess.

In my case, I’m still processing the loss of my dog and what that represents to me in the larger scheme of things. Sonya was the last trace of my old life. While she was here, so was a little piece of Cathy. I felt responsible for that piece, like a steward. Sonya was Cathy’s dog, before she was our dog, and then my dog, and then our dog again. It was impossible for me to separate Cathy with Sonya, no matter how hard I tried.

After a while, the pain became an ache, and then a twinge, and then we were okay, for a while. Having Janice in the house really helped. Sonya was a tomboy, but she was all about Sisterhood, and she needed a big sis to run with. She and Janice fell in together pretty quickly and had no problem with leaving me out of happy fun time. I knew we were going to be okay when Sonya went into “protect my people” mode with a drunk on the courthouse square one evening. Janice tells the story so well. She says, “It was like she became a different dog.” Not scary and barking and terrifying, but she had a hunter’s interest in the guy walking up to Janice. She went low to the ground and spread out, wide, like a furry alligator. She never vocalized, but kept the leash taut. If Janice had let go of the leash, there’s no telling what would have happened. As soon as he moved away, Sonya popped back up into her normal stance, all wiggly and happy and goofy. The danger was averted. All was well.

There’s a dog shaped hole in my house right now. I think I hear her moving around in the other room. I wake up and look for her. At least once a day, I look up and think, “Does Sonya need to go out?” I have to scroll past other people’s pet pictures. I’m a wreak right now. And this should come as no surprise to anyone, but just in case: that’s actually the first domino to fall. That feeling leads to other feelings, which turns into a spiral of falling dominos.

The good news, such as it is, is that this isn’t my first rodeo, nor my first time in the barrel. I’ve got a utility belt of skills and fixes, culled from previous therapy sessions, to deploy on this. One of my strongest coping mechanisms is, wait for it, writing. Who’da thunk it? I’ve also got meditation, medication, and other tools to give myself some structure to function and some space to feel the feels I don’t want to feel and in doing so, excise them from my gorilloid cranium, where they rattle perpetually around and distract me from life.

I know I’m running behind on some things. I know I’m moving slower than usual. It is what it is. The important thing for me (and for everyone, in fact) is to recognize when things are bad, and make the changes and adjustments necessary to get back on track. To knock the rocks out of your shoe. I can’t sit on it and hope it goes away. Not anymore. I have a new life. I’ve got a wife who loves me in ten thousand different ways. She deserves me at my best, not patched up and leaking oil. I deserve to be happy and healthy. I want that for myself.

So, it’s back to the restricted diet. Back to daily meditation. Back to eating cauliflower and drinking water. I don’t know how much I want to share here, or how much you want to read? Is this where the talks about the P.T.S. go (Permanently Tumescent Scrotum)? I don’t mind sharing with you, but I also recognize that we need bright spots in our lives and I like to think this newsletter does more good than harm.

Let me know what you think below.

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Weekly Report from the N.T.A.B. Division of Media Review

Note: While it’s not our usual policy to codify, grade, and report on older and/or dated films and television shows, we were recently subjected to something that we feel might have slipped by most of our normally astute readers and so we have elected to highlight

Icons Unearthed (ViceTV/Hulu/streaming)

A docuseries that digs deep for the untold stories behind some of the biggest movies, tv shows, and franchises, complete with rare photos and videos, insider interviews, and more. Produced by Nacelle, the same company that makes The Movies that Made Us and The Toys that Made Us, with very similar production values.

I should point out that I’ve only watched two series in this, um, series: The Simpsons, and Marvel (Cinematic) Universe. Other series include The Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, Batman, James Bond, and even The Fast and the Furious. Anything in that list tickle your fancy? I’ll bet there’s something there you can groove on. If you’re at all curious about how the sausage is made, these 8-episode documentaries are an excellent overview of How They Did It.

If I could assign this series as homework for everyone claiming to be a “critic” or a “content creator” under the age of 35, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’m always surprised when movies get made because everyone is a house of cards, just waiting to topple in the wake of a sneeze. There are so many moving parts, so many egos, so many people with money and no taste, and so much collaborative work that happens before anyone shows up on set that it’s truly a miracle when things come together. Hearing these stories from the people that were in the room, and getting opinions from actual writers, animators, producers, directors, and other creative people who do the real work on these projects is, to me, both fascinating and invaluable.

There are some minor irritants with the series, but they are the same complaints I have about every single docuseries still relying on advertising to pay for itself—namely, the fake cliffhanger (“but another director was waiting in the wings...and his ideas could kill the whole project before it got off the ground...:), and the reuse of the single picture they have of the person, shown over and over and over again.

However, what they get right is a deeper dive than the usual behind the scenes puff piece, including setbacks, controversies, and sometimes even unpopular opinions. They also do a great job of combining the creative decisions and celebrity insights with behind-the-scenes producers, studio heads, and other ‘back office’ discussions that the vast majority of people know nothing about.

Let’s just cut to the chase, all right? The first episode of the Marvel show? A recap of all the failed Marvel TV shows and movies that predated Iron Man in 2008, along with commentary as to what the hell Stan and the other Marvel executives were doing at that time. Granted, it’s not a deep dive—that’s what books are for, my people—but it’s a LOT deeper than what 90% of the “content creators” are doing, and moreover, really contextualizes those decisions and presenting them lightly, without too much detail and talking...it’s as if they had a target audience in mind and built the series around trying to educate the morlocks by tricking them into watching something with celebrities and quick cut edits.

I didn’t learn as much about Marvel (for I was there and still remember those big decisions) as I did about The Simpsons. What really fascinated me was how the early shows and seasons were put together and who some of those names were in the credits. The Simpsons series covers the first ten years of the show (the best years) and the Marvel series stops at the first Ant-Man movie. Both great stopping places. I look forward to the other shows and will point them out to anyone who needs a refresher on why all of this matters.

Mark Finn is one of the most opinionated and influential experts on Robert E. Howard in the state of Texas. He’s an author out of largesse rather than as a vocation and writes stories because he can’t play the guitar. He loves gorillas, values a well-placed conversational movie quote, and treasures the picaresque in literature. Annoyed with people’s misunderstanding of popular culture, he took it upon himself to buy a movie theater so he could lord it over every film student on the Internet. He likes to say, “If three people tell you you’re drunk, go lie down.”