Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man #48
Apr. 23rd, 2025 05:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Writer: Roger Stern
Pencils: Marie Severin
Inks: Bruce Patterson
Spidey and the new Prowler, left for dead!
( Read more... )
Writer: Roger Stern
Pencils: Marie Severin
Inks: Bruce Patterson
Spidey and the new Prowler, left for dead!
( Read more... )
Last night – Tuesday night – Gamers Nexus posted a three hour deep dive on how Trump’s tariff regime is completely fucking one segment of the computer industry: custom computers and components including gaming PCs.
I have now watched all of it.
IT IS WORTH YOUR TIME.
I never say that shit about a video this long but it is a documentary of goddamn note. I haven’t seen anything else close to this, showing not just numbers, but how those numbers compound – 145% isn’t a limit, some of the tariffs are additive on top of each other – and most of all how stupidly complicated they’ve made it.
Let’s say you’ve got a power supply. Let’s say it’s at 145% as a base unit, ’cause right now it probably is. That’s not the only tariff – that’s just one of them. Percentage aluminium by weight? You’ve got to figure that out, and you need to know where it came from, because that’s an additional tariff. Sometimes. Percentage steel by weight? Same question, same fluctuating situation.
How the fuck do you figure out where the aluminium legs on a resistor came from?
The transparency from Hyte in particular – it’s stunning. They’re just dumping pricing and strategy trade secrets in this video because they literally can’t do business in the US as things stood at time of shooting. They’ve cancelled all shipments to the US and once they’re out of stock already in country, they’re out of stock.
As they say, most people won’t really notice until shelves go empty.
And this is just one industry.
$600 for a PC case, anyone?
Posted via Solarbird{y|z|yz}, Collected.
The British city of York has a vast, fascinating history, but by far, chocolate production is the tastiest part of the city's legacy.
In 1862, the Rowntree family opened a grocery store that became a chocolate factory. Before long, multiple families started their chocolate-making businesses, and York became a significant site for chocolate production.
The chocolate factories created many jobs, and the money helped develop York, which became well known for all the treats produced in the city.
Sadly, the days of chocolate production in York are mostly over, and the streets no longer have the sweet smell of chocolate wafting through the air. But the rich and delicious history hasn't been forgotten.
The site of the old Terry's chocolate factory is now a modern housing estate, but a walk around will reveal little nods to the location's chocolate-making past.
From the clock tower that once adorned the factory, and also in a statue to Terry's most famous product, the chocolate orange.
The sculpture offers a tribute to a fondly remembered piece of York's past with the, perhaps unfortunate, side effect of making mouths salivate and stomaches rumble!
Music. magic. and undead creatures; The Black Fire Concerto has really got it all. Read on to see how metal music paved the way for author Mike Allen’s newest novel.
MIKE ALLEN:
Whatever could have possessed me to write The Black Fire Concerto, a post-apocalyptic secondary world body horror novel in which a pair of heroines who cast spells through their music face off against hordes of undead monstrosities?
My heroines, warrior-sorceress Olyssa and her teenage apprentice Erzelle, draw inspiration from the likes of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, Elric and Moonglum, Roland the Gunslinger and his sidekicks, and more. They are musicians traveling through a world overrun with ghouls.
Many scenes from the book, if a painter chose to illustrate them, could serve as death metal album covers. (Hint, hint, to any horror-loving artists out there.)
I’m not a musician, but music with a dash of darkness has been central to my life since my middle school explorations of my parents’ collection of symphonies by classical composers. Much of it did little for me — I tend to find soft, gentle music boring and irritating rather than relaxing. But some conveyed power, momentum, menace, like Grieg’s “In the Hall of the Mountain King” from the “Peer Gynt” suite. I especially fell head over heels for Stravinsky’s “The Rite of Spring” — I loved its energy and its rebellious atonality (the very qualities that caused the audience to riot at its 1913 premiere.)
At my mother’s insistence I sang in church choirs until I grew old enough to be allowed to say no. At about the same time I stopped going to choir practice I discovered that —somewhat to my parents’ dismay — the qualities of classical music that energized me could be mainlined in concentrate from heavy metal. The point of no return arrived when I used my dishwashing allowance to purchase Defenders of the Faith by Judas Priest, an album packed with science fiction, fantasy, and horror imagery, paced at an adrenalized frenzy.
Beyond just listening, all those years in choir proved to have a startling side effect: I had the lung power of a lion and could produce ear-shattering screams at will, leading to some delightful years as a garage- (or really, basement-) band singer, and hours and hours spent writing and recording songs with friends who were (and still are) excellent musicians. A special shout out here to my lifelong brothers-in-the-arts Mike Berkeley and John Morris. Our band was called She’s Dead, a phrase lifted from one of the stories in Clive Barker’s Books of Blood.
Now, I’ve been a huge horror fan for decades, but that wasn’t always so. As a child, I wanted nothing to do with horror tales or movies. A third grade reading of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart” traumatized me for years.
Yet hanging out with those same musician friends as a teen led to my first horror movies seen in theaters, and the discovery of a lifelong love of over the top, beyond the pale body horror, both humorous and ghastly serious: “Return of the Living Dead,” “Re-Animator,” “Evil Dead,” “Day of the Dead,” “From Beyond,” “Aliens,” “The Fly,” “Hellraiser.”
“Return of the Living Dead,” Dan O’Bannon’s blackly humorous unofficial sequel to “Night of the Living Dead,” deserves special attention. Everyone remembers how those zombies craved brains in their diet. What’s less remembered is that those zombies from 1985 ran fast, and shooting or slicing them did no good. Nothing short of incineration got rid of them. My ghouls, fueled by a magical curse, totally belong to the O’Bannon school.
With all these movies and metal, I’ve surely dated myself as a creature that reached my first creative bloom in the 1980s. I would not have dared to make my heroines classically trained musicians, though, were it not for a surprise return to the world of classical music in mid-2009, when I became the arts columnist for my home city’s newspaper.
In October of that year, I landed a National Endowment for the Arts fellowship that sent me to review world class orchestra performances in New York. I am still no expert on the topic, but I learned enough to describe these performances, and my appreciation for them, with at least a dash of eloquence.
In truth, my duo would not sound much like a metal band if you heard them play. Search the web for videos of harp and pan pipe duets to hear an approximation of their harmonies. The way they fight with musical notes, on the other hand, comes straight from the iconography of heavy metal.
As do undead fiends. (Hello, Eddie from Iron Maiden!)
Both elements have the potential to send the blood racing. I intend The Black Fire Concerto to serve as a double jolt.
A fair question: Is there truly any overlap between the world of classical music and the armies of the dead? I say it depends on the choice of music.
Remember my explorations of my parents’ classical music records? In sixth grade, I drove classmates nuts by constantly humming the “Dies Irae” passage from the fifth movement of Berlioz’ “Symphonie Fantastique.” Entirely unbeknownst to me, that very same year, Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining used a synthesizer version of that same musical segment as its opening theme.
In hindsight, considering the influences which inspired this novel, that sure seems like foreshadowing.
The Black Fire Concerto: Amazon|Barnes & Noble|Bookshop|Powell’s|Kobo
A London pub is more about interior design or atmosphere than views—except, that is, at Tamesis Dock. This pub takes the form of a boat moored on the south bank of River Thames, right in central London, from where one can take in the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben, the London Eye and Battersea Power Station all while sipping a Guinness. It’s thought to be one of only two boat-based pubs in the city.
The story goes that the boat was built in the 1930s in the Netherlands. It somehow made its way to Paris, where it was requisitioned by German soldiers during WWII. After the war, it was bought by a former member of Britain’s Merchant Navy and taken to the south coast of England, then eventually in the ‘80s or ‘90s, to London.
Moorings in central London are almost impossible to come by these days, and Tamesis (the ancient Roman name for the River Thames) Dock’s current owners estimate that the boat may be the only one moored on the south bank of the river. Rent is paid to the Port of London. And the Thames estuary is only 32 miles east, which means that the tides cause Tamesis Dock to float twice daily.
Seating here spans three levels, with both open-air and covered zones, and on a clear day, the views are amazing. The bar is found in the ship’s lower deck, has seven taps, and there’s also pizza and light snacks. Tamesis Dock also hosts events and live music.
What I read
Made a rather slow progression through Li, Wondrous Transformations, and finished it, a little underwhelmed somehow. Some useful information, but a fair amount of familiar territory.
As a break, re-read of KJ Charles' Will Darling Adventures, Slippery Creatures (2020), Subtle Blood (2020) and The Sugared Game (2021), as well as the two short pendant pieces, To Trust Man on His Oath (2021) and How Goes the World (2021).
Then - I seem to be hitting a phase of 're-reading series end to end'? - Martha Wells, All Systems Red (2017), Artificial Conditions (2018), Rogue Protocol (2018) and Exit Strategy 2018), and the short piece Home: Habitat, Range, Niche, Territory (2020).
Also read book for review (v good).
Literary Review.
On the go
Martha Wells, Network Effect (2020).
Up next
Predictably, Fugitive Telemetry and System Collapse.
Also at some point, next volume in A Dance to the Music of Time for reading group (At Lady Molly's).
Still waiting for other book for review to turn up, but various things I ordered have turned up, so maybe those.
Property for sale on
The Turks Head is a traditional Victorian pub in St Helens, Merseyside. Built in the 1870s in the Tudor style, it's popular with the locals and has a reputation for award-winning craft beers.
If the home-cooked food, open fires, and steady supply of beer aren't enough to attract you, the pub also proudly claims to have the oldest pie in St Helens. Its age is unverified; it was found when the pub was renovated in 2017. Presumably, someone dropped it behind a bench, where it lay undisturbed for decades.
Its remarkably well-preserved condition led the owners to display it proudly once the refurbishment was complete. It now rests in an acrylic box on a wooden plinth with the story of its discovery engraved:
"This pie was discovered during renovations of The Turks Head public house (Feb 2017). It is thought to be the greatest discovery since Howard Carter and Lord Carnarvon unearthed Tutankhamun in 1922. We still don't know what mystical powers have been set free in The Turks Head."
St Helens isn't often compared to the Valley of the Kings, so the above claims may be slightly exaggerated. There have yet to be any reports of a curse.
Only a 'what has actually changed' set of notes today, rather than a reflection on where I am on the goals.