Musings in the Dark: July 2012


Boss Chicks: Cipher

"Do ya feel lucky?  Do ya, punk?"

Alisa Tager, b/k/a Cipher, is a young mutant from the world of Young X-Men.  Created by artist Rafa Sandoval and writer Marc Guggenheim, Cipher first appears in Young X-Men #8.  However, using her particular abilities, Cipher was retconned into the series as early as Young X-Men #3.

Cipher is a spy, but she’s the most bad-ass spy I’ve ever heard of.  Her mutant abilities include the following:

  • Full electromagnetic spectrum invisibility
  • Complete stealth
  • Ability to move between phases (i.e. pass through solid objects)
  • Levitation
  • Voice masking
  • Pilot

She rocks sweet dreads, a foxy yellow & black outfit, and a deceptive smile.  This is a boss chick right here.  If I need to get precious intel; this is who I’d call.  Fuck James Bond.


Fic Alert: What You Need

"You know, if I wanted to harm you or anything like that, I could have done it when you were under.  I could have let you bleed out on my living room floor.  In fact, I could have told those men to throw your big ass out of my house, but I did none of those things.  I don’t know who you are, nor do I care.  You don’t have any money, you can’t offer me anything, and you won’t ever be able to repay me for what I’ve spent taking care of you thus far.  I wanted to help you, but maybe you’re just too big, too ugly, and too stupid to understand something as simple as that. So please, get the fuck out of my house.”

Read the rest here...


Me and my muse...*sigh*

It's funny how you can be swamped with a crapload of things to do and then all of a sudden, you get smashed over the head with an idea for a fanfic.  Like I have time to do any extra writing outside of my research and the editing of Tainted...but here comes the muse skipping along with a damn-near-fully-formed plot bunny and an icepick.  This means that I am compelled to write said fic because she will go all Sharon Stone on me if I don't comply.

The fic in question was inspired by Tom Hardy's Bane in The Dark Knight Rises.  Tom's sexy to begin with (lips!!!), but here he made the ol'girl damn near lose her religion.  I was literally breathing hard about four minutes into the movie and ready to throw my sexy panties at the screen during the beat'em-down scene.  If you've seen the movie, you know what scene I'm referring to.  By the time we reach the scene of him standing in front of Blackgate Prison, I was quite ready to launch myself at said screen.  Can we say giant girl boner???  

I have a predilection, so the mask is not a turn-off.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  My blood pressure hasn't been right since I caught the midnight showing. 

*cue drool* Dear Lord, could this man not be any sexier?

Four minutes in...and my pulse was racing.

*smiles slowly and spreads...*  Yeah.  You read that right.
When said fanfic, tentatively titled "What You Need" is posted on pinkelegance, I'll let you guys know.

*goes to sleep with visions of a naked Bane dancing in her head*


Fear of a Black Planet

**Author’s note:  The quotes contained herein are taken word for word from the emails I received.  They have not been altered except for the deletion of names and other potentially identifying factors.  I promise you, I could not make this shit up and I'm an author.

The title of this post is eponymous with Public Enemy’s 1990 classic, but it’s merely a stylistic choice. Last week, I joined Black Planet, which is a variation of or EHarmony, but as the title implies, it’s for black people.  This isn’t to say that it’s exclusive to black folk; there are plenty of other races people on BP looking to hookup/meet/date/marry a person of color.  But I digress.

I joined BP out of sheer boredom; I’m spending a great deal of time staring at a bunch of numbers and statistics have been known to lead people astray.  I’d been warned about BP from my bestie, but I knew I wasn’t looking for anything serious and I thought it would be okay.  I was bored.  What I learned from that six-day experiment was that I have absolutely no patience when it comes to this sort of thing, which is why I never did it in the first place.

People lie, especially on the ‘net.  You can be anything or anyone you want to be and no one will ever know the truth.  So when doing something like this, be up front about what you’re looking for and don’t deviate from that, and know that you don’t have to be polite or courteous, and you shouldn’t respond to everybody.  Having said that, with the exception of my screen name, I was perfectly honest about everything.  I’m grown and I have no reason to lie, especially to a stranger.  I stated in my profile that I wasn’t looking to get married or boo’ed up and in spite of this, I kept getting the same introductory messages.  I started to wonder if BP had a list of conversation starters because each guy literally asked the exact same thing in the exact same order. 

"Ok, for my questions to you. What are some of your goals, hopes and dreams? Are  you really single and why are you single? How long have you been single? Do you have any brothers or sisters? Do you have any kids? If yes, How  many? cos i love kids and i like to play and be with them. Would you  like to have more Kids? What do you do for a living? How old are you  really? What makes you upset? What makes you happy? What do you expect from your Partner? How do you handle conflict in a relationship? What do you look for in a Relationship? If there is  something you want to say but you think you might be rambling or it is  not important, it is ok, to me it is important."


As you can see, the grammar is horrible; everything is smashed together without indentation or paragraph breaks, and most of them clearly never heard of periods because the sentences ran on so much I broke out my sneaks.  I’m not a grammar Nazi, but this shit was ridiculous.  I don’t expect for everyone to have the same command of the language as I do, but I need to be able to carry on some semblance of conversation.

"Hello Cutie,            To start telling you more about me_i am 6'0" tall with a Brown eyes, i do not smoke and i do not drink alcohol,i am a very good looking gentle man of 41 and i will be 42 by Dec 20th years Im into a Construction  business for the Past 10 years and i do  travel within  the regions to Construct and i would be willing to married to a wonderful woman whether she has Kids or not or not willing to have more Kids am still okay just wanna be happy together with my woman for the rest of our life together...I lost my Dad when i was Ten (31)...My Religion is Christian.I ’ am Easy Going, Adventurous, Romantic, Ambitious and have a very good sense of humor."
In spite of me saying up front that I didn’t want anything serious, I kept getting messages like this:
"I have been burnt so Bad. My last relationship ended on a very sad note for me but I do not believe in regrets. I tell you this because I cannot predict the future. I have never been married, but it would be a very great thing in my  life to get married because i do believe there is someone special out  there for everyone. I don't believe in Divorce, I only want to get  married once and when I do get married, i want it to be for better for worse... and forever. I would love to know the basics about you.... Well, I am really  serious about you and interested in getting to know you . I will be  waiting for your Calm and Humble reply."

And this:

"What I am looking for is someone who will get to know me ,who will love me forever and be there for me ,who is willing to merge her soul with mine to result in what is called fate then later merge her heart with mine and that will be marriage.And then I get to live with her in his humble abode for ever and start a family > with.I am single and I am looking for someone who understands love and know what love is."

Mind you, these are introductory emails, as in them being the very first sent to me.  And then I got some from men who were from the United States but “in Nigeria on business taking care of their sick mom”

"Currently i am in Africa on a short visit for building a company for the federal Governmet of Nigeria i am also here in Nigeria to come take care of ma sick Mom in a Hospital here as well,But I will be returning back very soon."

I got about three of these, and the wording was precise. It was always a building engineer or construction analyst, it was always Nigeria, and it was always a sick mother.  In fact, the phrasing was so specific that my Spidey senses tingled.  Now having been a caregiver, I begrudge no one who is doing the same.  But what I don’t like is someone using an ailing mother with breast cancer as a ploy for sympathy or pussy points.  My best friend, who spent some time navigating the bullshit-infested waters of Black Planet, told me that it was a known fact (on BP forums) that these men were actually Nigerian residents running scams to get an American woman to bring them into the country.  That actually explained a lot; especially this bit of chicanery:

"I always make sure to share the little that I have with someone and I'm also satisfied with whatever I 've.Also when it comes to sex/lovemaking,i think both of us should play an equal role.My woman should be able to satisfy me during love making and am not afraid to give her all what she want in love making till she is drunk with my love.To add a few I am not a racist and i am very romantic.I will go to where ever and who ever i find to be my soul mate.I love always being around my woman and letting her know how much i love her through my physical touch on her body with my sensitive parts."

I mean, do women actually fall for shit like this?  After I picked myself up off the floor, I gave it a great deal of thought.  A lot of women are desperate for love & companionship.  Their self-esteem is so low that they will fall  for stuff like this and embark upon something that will ultimately lead to disaster. There are reasons sites like BP, & EHarmony are so damned successful.  I know you guys are probably wondering, “Amaya, what in the hell were you doing on a site like this anyway?”  The answer is boredom, but it soon turned to annoyance.  One dude got mad and called me out of my name because I wasn’t responding to the IM fast enough, another guy wanted me to drive to NC so he could “nut all over my breasts,” and another wanted to know how big my “things” were.  One individual told me that he could tell I was a “beautiful, caring, sensitive ‘Queen’” based on my profile pic.  Note: I was wearing one of my Mardi Gras masks in said pic. 

Needless to say, I got tired of all of this crap quick, fast and in a hurry and deleted my account.  I simply lack the patience to deal with such inane infantile chatter—it can’t even be qualified as conversation.  My bestie, in spite of having dealt with BP drama, encouraged me to keep the account and wade through the garbage to find someone worthy of conversation (because they do exist), but it just isn’t worth it to waste the time.  But as with most things that happen to me nowadays, the experience served to be nothing more than blog fodder.  I certainly hope you get as much amusement out of reading those quotes as I eventually did.



…or fear of Friday the 13th

On days like today, there is typically some good TV on; usually in the form of horror flicks.  I love horror movies.  When I was in my formative years, I was at once terrified and fascinated by them.  The first one I can remember that scared the shit out of me (and instilled a healthy fear of scarecrows) was Dark Night of the Scarecrow.  It was a made-for-TV movie about a wrongly accused man who hid in a scarecrow to hide from vigilantes.  He was murdered and his spirit returned to haunt the men who killed them.  The last scene in the movie is of the scarecrow and…let’s just say I didn’t sleep that night.  I watched the movie again last year and that scene still makes me nervous. 

Halloween came out in 1978 and Friday the 13th came out in 1980.  Of course I saw them, and of course they frightened me.  I spent many a night sitting up in my bed, too scared to sleep because either Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers was going to come out of the closet and get me.  Both of them were effective in their own way.  Jason was a disgusting retarded hillbilly with a fucked-up face, so he was more gross than anything else.  Michael, however, was a tall, silent stalker in Dickies and an altered white William Shatner mask.  You knew what Jason was, but you weren’t sure about Michael.  He looked human, but there was clearly something other going on behind that damned fa├žade.  It was he that utterly terrified me, right along with Bubba the Scarecrow.

*takes a moment*

Even now, I can't bear to put an image of Michael up on my blog.  That's how it should be done, my friends.

The reason why this worked so well is because whatever our minds can conjure is always far worse than what a director can put on the screen. So on Michael (and Bubba by extension), I could project all of my fears onto that stark…white…mask…and as an imaginative young writer, believe me when I tell you I had some horrifying monsters I was seeing instead of a Shatner veneer.

But in spite of my fears, or maybe because of them, I couldn’t help but devour these movies.  The 80s were a glorious time for horror, both camp and not.  Examples of some good stuff:  Prom Night, The Shining, Graduation Day, Happy Birthday to Me, The Howling, My Bloody Valentine, Creepshow, Christine, Cujo, Sleepaway Camp, A Nightmare on Elm Street, Phenomena, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Phantasm, Child’s Play and The Amityville Horror.  This list is not exhaustive, and to be perfectly honest, only the first half of the 80s produced pristine classics.  Or maybe that’s just because I was younger and far more impressionable then than I was after 1985.  Nowadays, it is extremely difficult to pull off an effective horror movie because our sensibilities are so jaded.  I can’t think of the last time a movie made me uneasy. 

I’ll always love horror movies.  I like being curled up on the couch in the dark, with my hand over my eyes, peeking through the slits at the TV.  I’ve seen Halloween about 200 times, but the sight of Michael Myers stalking babysitters will always twerk the primal part of my brain where that petrified little girl still resides.


An Ode to Cheese...(3/5)

This entry deals with the third greatest film of all time:  Mega Shark vs. Crocosaurus, starring Jaleel White (b.k.a Steve Urkel).  This wonderful little chunk of cheddar brings back the megalodon from Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus.  Apparently, the megalodon didn’t die along with the cephalopod and returns in this sequel of sorts with a vengeance.

A 1500-ft crocodile shows up in Africa for reasons unknown, interrupting a blood diamond mining operation.  Said croc is captured by a "great white hunter" named Nigel Putnam in one of the most ridiculously funny sequences ever conceptualized.  There’s no way in this galaxy that a croc that large would respond to any tranquilizer of any sort that damn quick.  How Mr. Putnam manages to smuggle the crocodile out of Africa on a cargo ship is conveniently glossed over by a well-placed commercial. 

Terry McCormick (Jaleel White) is a naval officer and shark specialist.  He invented some hydrosonic spheres designed to attract sharks (for what reason, only God knows).  While testing his equipment, he unknowingly attracts the megalodon, who promptly destroys the warship.  The croc and the shark meet up when the shark attacks the cargo ship.  The shark likes to snack on the croc’s eggs and the croc is understandably not having any of that shit.  The remainder of the movie revolves around McCormick and Putnam and a female government agent named Hutchinson trying to destroy the croc and the shark.  Hutchinson is supposed to be tough and smart, but she comes off as a domineering ballbuster instead.  She’s annoying.

Highlights of this marvelous little film:

Jaleel White’s obvious overacting.  The scene where he’s grieving while being interrogated is side-splitting and fart-inducing.  *bangs fist on table*  “I need the data!”

A stereotypical dumb blonde walking in the "jungles of Africa" in stilettos and a pencil skirt...who "has to meet with rebel leaders in two hours."  She doesn't make said meeting.

The megalodon’s supergiant dorsal fin and the fact that it roars.  A roaring shark.   Really? 

The annihilation of the Panama Canal by the megalodon and the crocodile and the apparent fact that Panamanians were okay with it.

The crocodile destroying the American Airlines Arena where the Miami Heat play.  Joker just stepped on the building.  He also ate Shamu while vising Orlando.  One logically assumes that Orlando and Miami are right down the street from each other.

The shark swallows a nuclear submarine whole.

Putnam does a cartwheel in the sand while shooting a baby croc.

See this cheesy goodness for yourself:

I swear, this fantastic little movie should have gotten nominated for at least a Golden Globe.  It is simply ridiculous that it has been overlooked by the Academy.  3.5 gleeful stars.

**UPDATE!!**  Word on the street is that there will be a third film featuring the megalodon.  Said flick is entitled "Mega Shark vs. Mecha Shark."  *cries tears of joy* There is a God.


Boss Chicks: Nubia

I grew up loving Wonder Woman, so Nubia isn’t new to me.   However, I’d forgotten about her over the years because life will do that.   But Denny reminded me about her and I thought, “YES!  PERFECT!”

Nubia was created by Robert Kanigher and Don Heck.  She first appears in Wonder Woman #204.

As comic book heads will tell you, Diana Prince is the titular Wonder Woman, an Amazon princess formed from white clay.  Nubia is her twin sister, who was formed from black clay.  This was done by Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons because she wanted a child of her own. Aphrodite gave the twins life, but Nubia was kidnapped by Mars and raised to be a warrior, and he kept her mentally enslaved.  

Nubia is a highly-skilled combatant and martial artist and put a beatdown on her twin when they first met.  They fought several times and eventually, Diana was able to free Nubia from her mental prison.   Nubia eventually went on to ultimate badassery, including running thangs on her own island.

Nubia is an Amazon, which means she kicks ass and takes names while being utterly fabulous.  She has superhuman strength, speed, a healing factor and enhanced senses.  She’s also a telepath, a markswoman, and a weapon master.  Nubia has a sword that can counteract the effects of her sister’s golden lariat. And did I say she’s fabulous?

I’ll say it again:  She’s fabulous.