The House Committee on Science, Space, and Technology

Lamar Smith:

   Age: 67

   Degree: Law

F. James Sensenbrenner, Jr.:

   Age: 71

   Degree: B.A. Political Science; J.D. Law

Dana Rohrabacher

   Age: 67

   Degree: B.A. History; M.A American Studies

Frank D. Lucas

   Age: 55

   Degree: Agricultural Economics

Randy Neugebauer

   Age: 65

   Degree: B.A. Business Administration in Accounting

Michael T. McCaul

   Age: 53

   Degree: B.A. History; J.D. Law

Steven Palazzo

   Age: 45

   Degree: B.A. and M.A. Public Administration

Mo Brooks

   Age: 60

   Degree: B.A. Political Science, Economics, Law



Help finish this…  here's the rest of the committee https://science.house.gov/about/membership

M6 - End of Part 2

The sun hung heavy in a late afternoon sky, setting fire to the world as it fell slowly towards the distant horizon.  Shadows drew longer and longer as the minutes ticked off. Today’s warmth began to succumb to the cool breeze now blowing down mostly deserted streets trailing refuse in its wake.  Crumpled newspapers danced and twirled, crushed cans rattled, empty bottles rolled and clinked, plastic bags rustled like leaves, the detritus of civilization sweeping along in an annoying mélange of urban noise.

Sidewalks carried few pedestrians this afternoon.  Midweek, no one had anywhere important to be, and the rush-home-from-work crowd still had some hours to go before their daily stampede. 

As crowds went, the current incarnation was rather dilute, being mostly shiftless teenagers.  Kids with nothing better to do than hang out, no rides, no goals, their stay at homes moms probably too busy making dinner or something else sufficiently homely to care about their whereabouts. 

A ragtag group of skateboarders zipped by, sullen and quiet except for the rhythmic clacking of wheels against dips in the sidewalk.  Headphones in, they slid past without comment, something about the day making everyone depressed.

At least it wasn’t raining.

I shifted, metal chair dug into my back.  My waitress stopped by to ask if I needed a refill.  I shook my head sending her away with a request for the bill and a polite smile. She smiled back and walked off.  I’d had too many already.

One was enough for me, thank you.  Coffee here was always too bitter, too hot, scalded my tongue every time, pick a reason.  I hated the stuff they served at this place, but Marlin loved it, so I did my duty as a good brother and tagged along once a week.  That was the deal; no matter what was going on in our lives, we would always set aside a day for each other. 

Most of the time Marlin would drink while I watched, waiting for the inevitable caffeine buzz to pass from her through me.  Just like the drugs, our preternatural connection allowing me to share her high while sparing me the indignity of swilling blistering garbage water.

Now, her mug sat untouched on the table across from me.  Full, gone cold, mocking our weekly ritual, a reminder of a promise as yet unfulfilled. 

Clouds gathered further off, but the chill that was settling in would not be enough to bring rain.  Still, it would be another starless night, like every night since my sister was taken from me.

The waitress came back, handed me the bill, I handed her a ten and she produced change from somewhere in her apron.  A few folded singles and a handful of change exchanged hands.  One more reason I hated the coffee here, too damned expensive.  Another pair of plastic smiles met, polite but insincere. 

I spilled the coins onto the table.  A dull nickel spun on its edge before clattering onto its face, dying sunlight glinting off tiny polished bits.  I stared down at it, miserable, alone. 

Mom and dad were in denial.  For all intents and purposes, their hope is justified.  Marlin’s body lies inert in a south county hospital bed, in a completely vegetative state.  Maybe she’ll pull out of it, there’s been no physical damage to her body.  Maybe she will be okay.  Maybe this, maybe that.  I know she won’t be, though. 

Out of frustration I grabbed for the change, my hand coming back nearly empty, holding only two cents.  Fuck it, the rest was a tip.  Rising, I pocketed the pennies, tossed the dollar bills into the center of the table, and took the last sip of the horrible coffee. 

Sooner or later, I was going to get my sister back.

Today, though, I was going to Hell.

Tediore: The Everyman's Gun (A How To For Everyone)

It goes without saying that Borderlands is a Registered Trademark and owns all the things (sans Nerf).

Welp, here's my attempt to turn this:

Not going to lie to you, not sure if they still make this.

Into something vaguely resembling this:

Disclaimer: May increase chances of Pyscho attacks.

List of materials:

Shelf-liner:  This stuff.  

• Spray Paint (Flat Gray, Flat Black, Gloss Dark Purple, Metallic Gold, Enamel Clear Coat)
• Nerf N-Strike Longstrike CS-6
• Painter's Tape and Scrap Paper
• Exacto Knife
• Power Drill
• Phillips (Cross) head Screwdriver (a normal one, and a small one)
• Superglue
• Shelf-liner
• EL Wire (any color for your choice of element)
• Sandpaper
• And this thing:

From the Build Your Own Lightsaber Kit

Oh, also a s*&t ton of patience and don't make the mistakes I did.  You can find just about everything at Walmart…in fact, I think I got everything at Walmart minus the EL wire.  The EL wire was purchased on Amazon.

First, disassemble the nerf gun.  The main body can be taken into two separate pieces.  If you have a small crosshead screwdriver, you shouldn't have to drill out the holes to get to the screws (yes… I did that.  You should not).  Take out the internals, but keep the screws.  Save the bits you take out, useful for more crafting.  You'll also need to cut up the magazine well to make it parallel with the fore grip.

Rail, Painted.

The Butt-stock assembly doesn't come apart, but unscrew everything because you'll need to pry the edges open for the EL wire later.  The only thing you need from the front barrel section is one of the rails (mostly the one without the giant screw stems on it.  Mostly).  

Okay, here's where some of the patience comes in.  Start sanding the bejesus out of the gun.  There's all kinds of molded injection plastic patterns, warning labels, Nerf logos, and other random things.  There will be blue dust EVERYWHERE, just a heads up.  When you finish, wash with soap and warm water (gets rid of the dust and oils and whatever the hell else is on the plastic.  …If you don't, the paint will not bond well.  I learned this the hard way), let dry, then put down a coat of black.

First coat will let you see anything else you want to sand.

Superglue the magazine release in place.

There's a few of these tubular elbows.  Cut them.  Cut them off.

Two more coats of black over everything (to include the inside).  Let the black dry, then Start with the faux carbon fiber pattern first.  It's easier to go back and correct any (of the many…many) mistakes.  Makes it easier to detail afterwards as well.

Cannot stress this enough: Make sure the shelf-liner (gotta be honest, not sure if I'm supposed to hyphenate that or not.  I'll stop though, you get the idea) is tight against the surface and in a direction you like.  If you use too much paint (whatever color you want, really, it's your project), it'll run under the pattern.  If you use too little, it won't show up.  It took me a few times to figure out a medium spray - paint can be painted over, by the way - so don't get discouraged if you don't like how it turns out.

Let everything dry before moving anything.  After you take off the shelf liner, apply the black very lightly, in one direction (I recommend diagonally) along the length of the body to give the pattern depth.  

Again: Patience

Now on to bordering.  Tape ALL the things, use the exacto knife to cut out the parts you want to color.  It's kind of self explanatory. Whatever colors you want to complement the overall look of the gun.

It may come out dull looking, but it's supposed to.  Remember the rail?  I drilled a pilot hole through one of the existing screw holes (hehe) in a place I thought looked good.  Two screws, not too hard, but don't over torque the screws.  Use the same screws that came from the rail, and the pilot hole small enough that you have to work a little to thread them through into the main body.  After that, apply three coats of the enamel clear coat to make it bright and shiny.

Your brain.

Your brain on MDMA (that… that was in poor taste).

Side note: The same technique is applied to the barrel, the butt stock, and the vertical grip.

Cut the top off so it fits into the magazine well.  Not… so it…  It has to fit well into the well.

Here we see the barrel; solitary, proud. 

All those elbow tubes you cut?  Put the two halves of the gun together, drill a hole at the junctions, and really anywhere you want the EL wire to come through.  Then feed the wire through the gun however you want.  Again, your show.  You can even take some plastic, glue it over any holes in the gun, and put the wire on top of it to give it better light dispersion.  It'll make it look cooler, but I started losing steam as soon as I picked up batteries for this thing.

Super glue and winding will keep it in place, I promise.  Time to seal it up, throw in the screws, and done.  Details, cell shading, and a Tediore logo will follow at some point, but it's time to move on to something else.  Hope you find it easy and fun, and can't wait to see how you improve on it.  I know you f***ers will too, you're all so damn talented (I'm not even being sarcastic right now, just jealous).

Look around the site, enjoy the posts.  Any questions, feel free to ask.

And yes, that is me.  That is my helicopter.  That is a Guitar Hero Guitar.

  

How Not to Talk to Women: Cosplay and Gaming

When it came to popularity in high school (many years ago), I fell into that vague category of knowing a lot of people without really hanging out with any of them.  So, when my social circle started expanding ever further near the close of senior year, I found myself on the couch of a neighborhood friend – whose broad reach of likeability, athleticism, and extrovertedness, landed him many lauded achievements in the way of yearbook photos – one morning. 

Amongst his friends, all present at the time, were the quintessential cool kids.  Every archetype fulfilled by the affable tough-guy, hard partying sidekick, obligatory stoner, and the most popular girl in school (that…that’s not hyperbole). 

Kinda like this.  (The club, not the link)

I’d never spoken to this girl directly.  Though, to be fair, I never found her interesting enough to make the effort.  It seemed, however, the opportunity would come this morning.  Names fail me, but I’d still change them.

Example 1: Here’s where things begin

I noticed something very odd that morning; in the way everyone treated the popular girl.  Upon waking from a couch nap, Tough Guy loudly announced to the room at large (but mostly in the direction of Popular Girl) that laying on one’s stomach ‘makes mean boners.’  He then proceeded to ask Popular Girl if she knew this fact, and followed up with a suggestion on how she could best help him get rid of it.  She tittered in good humor as a response.

Some minutes later, Stoner Guy asked her if she’d like a beer, commenting ‘maybe today we can get you drunk enough to see you naked.’  Again, Popular Girl laughed.

Whatever Sidekick said to her has been lost in the mists of memory, but I remember the entire interaction as being repulsive in a way that made me very uncomfortable.  I don’t know if it was because I was expected to participate in this, if it was because this seemed like the most normal thing to them and she was completely inured to it, or if I just felt uncomfortable with her tacit acceptance of everything.

At some point, everyone else had decided to step out, which left Popular Girl and myself alone together on opposite ends of the couch facing each other.  I couldn’t help myself, so I asked (exact words from both of us), ‘Doesn’t it bother you that they talk to you like that, and that they’re all trying to sleep with you in spite of claiming to be your friends?’

Her answer bothers me to this day:

‘Oh, they’re just playing around.  They do it all the time, they don’t really mean it.’

The sad, sad fact of her naivety coupled with the absolute truth that yes, they did mean it, was enough to dissuade me from ever pursuing a friendship with all but the host (again, he’s really the nicest guy ever).

Example 2: Kelly Jean and Atomic Mari

The last few weeks over the holidays, moving into a new house and being alone, have brought upon all kinds of boredom.  Without Netflix or my books to keep my brain distracted, I turned hungrily to the Internet for entertainment. 

Kelly Jean as Alice (twitch)

Kelly Jean is one of my favorite cosplayers and gamer girls.  If you’ve never seen one of her twitches as she destroys people in League of Legends (and is thusly one of the reasons I stopped playing that damn game), go here.  She’s funny and she’s a fantastic cosplayer. 

I had never watched a twitch before, so it was fun to watch a game played in real time.  What was utterly mortifying, were the incoming comments from anonymous users.  In my disgust, I didn’t screen capture any of the comments of the first day.  The moderators, fortunately for Kelly, were generally very quick to delete offensive comments.  There were so many, though, that they couldn’t get all of them.  Here’s a very VERY small sample space from the second day I watched:

Beat_tengudoomzy: Best things come in small packages

Xnukegaming: <message deleted>

Mafiailipidor: U WANT MY COOKIE MM?

Porphyriontr: We want your <3

 

The first day dealt mostly with asking to see her breasts, wondering what she was wearing under her pants, asking to sleep with her, telling her they were going to do criminal things to her.  In short:  a lot of <message deleted>’s. 

I wanted to tell her not to listen, not to give into that type of sexual assault (I was going to use the modifier ‘borderline,’ but the border had been crossed), not to crumble under that for want of more followers, that not every gamer is a complete pervert.

It doesn’t stop there.  In addition to watching twitches, I also que’d up Smosh’s Game Bang on YouTube.  It’s essential a group of friends playing games for a variety of challenges.  Mari is the token gamer girl on the show populated with guys.

It’s clear that these people are friends.  Their interactions are that of a close-knit group, but if you pay attention to the attitudes in the context of example 1, you’ll see that Mari is treated like Popular Girl.

Example 3: Cosplay as a Profession

My own guilt drives this last example.  Here’s some honesty.

When it comes to certain people (like Jessica Nigri Sushi …  sorry, that’s what I call her), I am biased.  Without ever having met her, I see the overt sexualization of cosplay in a way that panders to an audience of perverts and lonely men, so she can sell prints and make money. 

I used to.

 Tying everything together and resolutions:

The unfortunate part about what I’m about to say next, is that anyone reading this probably already feels the same way.  The cosplay community (and to a lesser but growing extent, the gaming community) in general, is of the mindset that this type of behavior and thought is unacceptable.  And that’s great!  People are aware, and awareness is spreading, and it needs to continue until all of this is just a bad memory.

Ensani Volz is my favorite (not one of, but The) cosplayer.  She’s a great friend.  Never once did I have a second thought about her enjoying what she does, never once did I think to criticize her when it came to selling her prints.  I’ve even bought some to support her.  Hell, she’s inspired me to do photo shoots and get my name out there. 

Best. Harley. Ever.

So why, if it’s okay for her, is it not okay for someone else?  It isn’t enough to just say that we support one while still condemning another.  Entire thought processes need to change.  It isn’t up to (in this case) me, to believe that someone is pandering to an audience or perpetuating a stereotype, because that’s just as bad as me going on-line and saying <message deleted> at a stranger.  Who am I to think ill of someone who is truly having fun? 

Here’s what Ensani had to say about it:

Hi, this hobby has turned into an industry. And just because someone sells prints/makes money off of cosplaying and making costumes doesn't mean that they don't give a shit about the characters they cosplay or aren't doing it to have fun AND ALSO make some extra money. I adore each and every character I've cosplayed. I've put my heart and soul into the characters I've cosplayed. Every new character on my "to cosplay" list, I love and fangirl and theorize about with weird headcanons. I want to expand my craft, learn more about sewing and creating props and armor. I want to make amazing, finely detailed, glowing axes and learn to create flowing, embroidered ballgowns. 
And if I'm able to make some spare cash so that I AM able to do these things, what is so damn wrong about that?

Kelly also had some words for the people that were bugging her.  Tying what she said in with what I felt about Jessica, and what Ensani said – Kelly brought up to the point that characters that she cosplays LOOK like that.  More than adding to that point though, I am thrilled she stuck up for herself instead of backing down:

if I may take two minutes to be vaguely serious: I have always worn what I like when streaming. I have streamed in tees and jumpers. But I refuse to be bullied into not wearing things that have cleavage (when it is not even breaking the rules - often in cosplay which is supposed to look that way!). I am a stubborn lady, so when I started to receive unnecessary harassment (rape threats, really??) it just made me more want to show how I will not be forced to dress one way or the other to appease anyone. I will continue to do so until this is not an issue, because I hope one day it is not.

And finally, on changing our thought processes:

Gaming is lagging (see what I did there?).  Anonymity has bred foul-mouthed little rodents that don’t hesitate at all to spew racial slurs and sexual attacks at any and all in reach.  It’s commonplace when it shouldn’t be. 

I love Game Bang, but if I were to watch that as my younger self, if I were to play games online as my younger self…I’d be shaped by what I hear and what I see.  I wouldn’t think twice about talking to people like that.  I’d think it normal to treat girls like that. 

Just because that’s the way it’s always been, doesn’t mean it’s the way it has to be.  I’m stoked when I see people stick up for what they know is right, what they enjoy.  I’m proud to be friends with people like that. 

And I’m sorry for ever thinking the way I did about strangers I’ve never met.

All I ask, from anyone reading this, is all I’ve ever asked: 

Pass it on, and help stomp this kind of thing out, because <message deleted> is not how you talk to girls.

I won't lie...

I just found the closest sword.
I'll have real cosplay pictures up eventually.

Here’s some solidarity (and some humility, but not much):

I know why villains monologue:  If you spent time and effort to put together some Rube-Goldbergian style plan to off the protagonist, wouldn't you want SOMEONE to know about your hard work?  It's all about validation.

The Road to DragonCon

Okay, New Year, new fitness goals...

Anyone that's having trouble putting on weight or muscle can follow me throughout this (which is why I'm putting it up.  Much more fun to commiserate together, non?).  I've been practicing tracking meals and workouts, through the MyfitnessPal app (thank you ADB) over the last week.  Current goal is 2.5 pounds a month, and >3000cal a day.  Low sodium, low sugar kind of diet.

So, once a week (at the end of the week), I'll post my workouts and my meals.

Completely lost track of where this was going.  Happy New Years.  Year's?  Hmm...