Doob LaVey

A clever combination referencing three of my favorite things: Marijuana, The Church of Satan, and the french alphabet.

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Location: Kelowna, British Columbia, Canada

Long story, but briefly: I once saved a town from Dractyl, the vampiric pterodactyl.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Cosmic Rust pt. VIII

Picking up where we last left off, we find the Autobots mired in the dire predicament of being infected with cosmic rust and having already exhausted their supply of the only known cure. Their only hope lies in the matter duplicator, a device which has never functioned. Not even once.

Optimus Prime, Wheeljack, and Ratchet, who have been consulting with with their supercomputer, Teletran -1, suddenly notice that the computers' fine picture show and adequate oratory have been supplanted by meaningless garble.

"That's strange." says Optimus as we look over his shoulder towards the static filled screen. He taps away at the keyboard with the speed and accuracy of a pro. "Teletran-1 must be having some internal prob... My hands."

We can only guess as to the reason for Prime's digression, as no cause for concern is evinced by the animation. Is it dishpan hands, or what? We are left with our wild speculations for only a few seconds, until Optimus turns his hand over and we can see the brown speckles of the titular horror!

"I had no choice. I had to rescue Perceptor." he avers, as he turns towards the camera, and we're confronted with the harsh reality of just how far the infection has spread. Which is to say, it could be worse, I guess. Optimus has his fair share of rust on him, but it's gonna be awhile before he collapses into dust like those legionnaire guys.

Perhaps a bit pissed that Ratchet and Blaster are just slack jawed and staring at him, Optimus calls attention to their own condition. Curiously, they seem surprised as they discover that they, too, have been infected.

"Oh no! What's goin' on here, man?" cries Blaster with obvious dismay, proving he's not paid any attention to anything that's happened so far.

"Hey! It's suddenly getting hot in here!" announces Ratchet. But before we delude ourselves into thinking he's contracted a fever, the source of the escalating temperatures is quickly revealed as an external one. In fact, it's so external, it's not even in the Autobot base, and we know this because the scene immediately shifts to their headquarters exterior.

Remember that the Autobots live in their spaceship, the Ark, which crashed into a volcano four million years ago. So what we are looking at is the back end of an orange spacecraft sticking out of a rocky slope. On this particular day, the Ark is ensnared in a web of pink lightning. The camera pans to the right, revealing to us that, on a nearby clifftop, this energy is coming from the Decepticons' new lightning bug weapon. Operating this weapon is none other than the malevolent Megatron himself, while Rumble merely observes, clearly not privy to the missions' complexities.

"Why not use it at full power, and melt Autobot headquarters to the ground?" he queries.

"I don't want to melt them down, Rumble. I want them to suffer... Slowly." Megatron replies casually, enjoying a good chuckle at this prospect.

Inside the Ark, Teletran-1 is suddenly functional again, and has revealed to Optimus the presence of Megatron and his weapon. "He must be using that thing to spread the germs." Prime concludes, and we know his is correct from Perceptors' earlier findings that the germs feed off of the lightning bugs' energy. Although, if that's the case, I think that the Autobots would have suffered even slower had Megatron not turned his weapon on them at all.

"Then there is no time to lose." declares Perceptor, suddenly full of verve. Despite the fact that his case of cosmic rust is presumedly the most advanced, it hasn't slowed him down yet. "Come Wheeljack, we have work to do."

With that, the scene switches to what I suspect is Wheeljacks' workshop. Interestingly, everything here is made from grey metals, and not the standard Autobot orange. This suggests that nothing here is standard Autobot issue, which is entirely appropriate and fitting with Wheeljacks' status as an inventor.

The matter duplicator itself is a large and unwieldy affair. Its' main component is a computer terminal at least equal in size to Teletran-1. Wheeljack fussing with some parts until he feels like he's accomplished something, pushes a button. When this results in a) a light, and b) a sound, the Autobot duo wordlessly turn and look at each other. Whether it be from frustration or because he'd just seen The Empire Strikes Back, Perceptor swiftly kicks the computer a couple of times, and, sure enough, it beeps and flashes to life. Behind them, a pair of glass cylinders crackle with energy. My assumption is that you place "matter" in one of the cylinders, and "duplicated mater" is generated in the second cylinder, but no onscreen demonstration is forthcoming. Nevertheless, the Autobots are pleased with what they see. With cries of "Tremendous!" and "It works!" Perceptor and Wheeljack proceed to wave their arms about in a celebratory type manner.

With that, we rather unexpectedly find ourselves gazing at the exterior of the Decepticons' lair, deep in the watery depths of the ocean. Within, the famous cassette playing Soundwave, debuting unusually late in the episode, strides towards Megatron.

For me, the Decepticon leaders' presence here raises a few questions, since when last seen, he was firing the lightning bug on the Autobot base. Now we find him here, a half a world away(speculation), at the bottom of the sea(confirmed), uncomfortably perched in a chair that seems entirely too tiny(confirmed). I must wonder, when was it that he left, and why? Did he leave minions to guard the bug as it cooked our heroes into new heights of diseased states? Did he leave it there unattended (not impossible on this show)? Or did he pack it up and go home? But all these inquiries are for naught, as it is Megatron who will ask the questions.

"Well, Soundwave? Has Laserbeak returned with the visuals?"

"Affirmative." Soundwave responds in his distinctive monotone.

With that, he opens his chest compartment and manually removes Laserbeak.

Laserbeak, of course, is the more famous of twin of Buzzsaw, both of whom are cassettes that transform into birds. Though nearly identical, they are easily distinguished in that Laserbeak has red parts, whereas the corresponding parts on Buzzsaw are gold.

Laserbeaks' fame comes from his frequent and prominent appearances on this show, where he is regularly depicted as a effective spy and important component of the Decepticon forces. However, anyone who cares to read the filecards included with these particular toys, will discover that it is Buzzsaw who is the spy, and Laserbeak is actually an interrogator, who's chief characteristic is stark raving cowardice. Yet, somehow, Buzzsaw hardly ever appears on the show. What gives?




Personally, I blame marketing. You see, back in the day, Buzzsaw and Soundwave were packaged together and would run you a hefty $25, easy. So, obviously, anyones' decision to buy this package depended entirely on how much they like Soundwave, who is considerably larger than Buzzsaw. Fact is, it didn't matter how much you liked Buzzsaw, no one was shelling out for this set if they didn't want Soundwave.

Laserbeak was also part of a two pack deal. The difference was that he came with Frenzy, a fellow cassette transformer, and together they ran you no more than $10. Frenzy, like Buzzsaw, is another TV no-show and underappreciated twin of another Decepticon cassette; in this case, Rumble. So it fell to Laserbeak to sell this pack. Perhaps unsure how to sell the rather limited and sadisitic notion of interrogation in a kid friendly manner, the writers probably decided to just pilfer the obvious coolness of espionage from Buzzsaw, and transferred it to "what the heck are we supposed to do with this guy" Laserbeak.

Being kind of a Buzzsaw fan myself, this has always been a bit of a pet peeve of mine.

Anyway, Soundwave plugs Laserbeak into a slot on a nearby computer, less like a cassette and more like a VCR... uh, cassette. Anyway, the video rolls and Megatron is much delighted by the images of Autobots all laid out like their on their deathbeds, moaning in obvious discomfort.

"How terrible." he notes, and, lest there be any doubt about his sincerity, he also rubs his hands together with glee.

The image zooms in on Optimus Prime as he stands next to his little yellow friend, Bumblebee, who is looking particularly worse for wear, inasmuch as the limits of the animation will allow. While considerably rusty, it looks more like he was outside the monkey cage and took shit hits to the side of the head and torso.

"Somebody's got to get us back to Cybertron, Prime." suggests the little yellow Autobot, in a fit of apparent idiocy. I mean, Bumblebee probably does not say this because he wishes to infect the entire population of their home planet, but it's not clear to me what else he might hope to accomplish there.

" Too bad you used all your Corrostop on the human statue, and gave the rest to me!" quips Megatron to the recorded images. "Well, rust in peace, Prime!" he says, chuckling and reclining in his little chair. But he isn't given long to enjoy himself, for as soon as he says those words, the recording broadcasts Perceptors' voice announcing "We did it! We're going to be saved!"

Megatron, of course, is not pleased as he listens.

"We finally got the matter duplicator working. All we have to do is scrape some Corrostop from the Statue of Liberty, and then we'll mass produce it!"

As I'm watching this, I'm suddenly amazed by the quality of this recording. It's amazing how Laserbeak was able to cover the action from so many angles; Overhead, over shoulders, close ups, and somehow still go undetected. I had to confess, it's a better job than even Buzzsaw could have realistically achieved.

The camera work goes unnoticed by Megatron as he shuts it off. "We must hurry!" he commands.

"What is our destination?" Soundwave asks, perhaps afraid to put two and two together.

"The Statue of Liberty, of course. Pity it won't be there by the time the Autobots arrive!"

Well, I'm left wondering just how the Autobots plan to "scrape off" the Corrostop. After all, isn't this stuff supposed to render metal safe from "anything"? So how do you get it off? For similar reasons, I wonder how the Decepticons plan on destroying the statue. I guess it's possible that the lightning bugs' destructive capacity just might outclass Corrostops' protective capacity, or maybe the just want to hide the statue. We'll see.

Anyway, I bet I can wrap this all up in just one more installment, it seems like there's nothing left but the epic, climactic battle.


So look for that.


Here.



Soon.

Saturday, June 02, 2007

Give Me My Life; What Was It?

You know, amazing as it may seem, we are coming up pretty quick here on the second anniversary of Doob LaVey. WOW! Can you believe it? That's a long time. The only other thing I've ever stuck with for two years is "not dying" and I guess I've gotten pretty good at that, as I've been doing it for over 33 years now (It's gonna take awhile for Doob LaVey to catch up to that one!;).

The Doob LaVey of today is not the Doob LaVey of yesterday. Nor is it the Doob LaVey I set out to create. Almost immediately, it took on a life of its' own, growing and evolving from a somewhat
cohesive narrative with the occasional digression, into the sporadically updated series of random tangents that you see before you now.

What I originally envisioned was for Doob LaVey to be my story. My tale as I tromped and stomped my way from here to my death bed. Every ounce of love and laughter was to be captured here; Every heartbreak and horror preserved here, in my own words.

Which, now that I'm thinking about it, sounds an awful lot like every other blog ever. The difference being that I'm almost as good a writer as I am an architect, and I am a way better architect than any other blogger will ever hope to be. Uh... LOL?

Long ago it became clear to me that it was far too late to try to get my blog back on track. So I had to do the next best thing. Thus began work on my autobiography. Before you ask, no, it's not finished yet, and no, I wouldn't look for it in bookstores any earlier than next year. But it has begun! Oh my, how it has begun.

As a little treat for my regular readers, I've decided to post portions of my autobiography here for both of you to enjoy. Without further ado, I present to you the foreword from "Give Me My Life; What Was It?".

Okay, maybe one little "ado" first. Traditionally, the foreword is written by a person other than the author. You know, a friend, a colleague, a worthy adversary, and the like (which need not be specified). For this solemn duty, I chose my old chum, Darren Pisni. Even though I haven't seen or spoken to Darren in decades, our history together made him the perfect match for this kind of assignment. One private investigators' fee of $435.72 later, I was reunited with this long lost childhood friend by telephone.

Now, I may or may not have mentioned Darren to you before. Either way, he was the bloke who, as an infant, mistook "Dran-O" for a beverage, and imbibed heavily. Ever after, the resulting burns and damage rendered his speech into something more akin to a garbled mess of consonants. So I hope you understand me when I say I meant to be as brief on the phone as possible. As I hung up, I regarded the twenty two minutes as a sacrifice for the greater good, as he had agreed to write the foreword, as I'd hoped.

Thusly freed from worry, I sat down to work, and churned out good material at a steady rate for almost two weeks, until the postman delivered a parcel to my doorstep. As I had expected, it proved to be the foreword Darren had written. Excited to learn all the kind and wonderful things he had said, I eagerly tore open the package so I could have a look at the manuscript.

As I mentioned, due to the quality of Darren's deductive abilities, he had blessed him with a severe speech impediment. In no way had it ever affected his reading or comprehension. Yet, as I perused the manuscript, I found that he'd transcribed the whole thing in his personal brand of Scooby talk. I dialed him up immediately.

"What the fuck, Darren." I said. "What is this shit?"

"Rev repuno kak renar gorda." he replied, feigning suprise.

"You know what I'm talking about. Now explain yourself!"

"Keppa seruba kon tili. Moki slaa. krey peti krey."

There's only so much abuse that one man can take, and I hung up on him. I had more important things to worry about; Like where was I going to find someone to write this thing?

Even then I knew who it would end up being. The best man for the job was the one I always turn to, when I want a job done right. Me.

So, with all my ado's now exhausted, I present to you... this.


GIVE ME MY LIFE; WHAT WAS IT?
An Autobiography
by
Jamie S. Luxton III


Foreword
by
Jamie S. Luxton III

Sometimes a man just has to drink alone. Especially when he's forced to delve into the deepest and darkest of places within his own mind; Places he'd hoped to never venture again. However, these things must sometimes be done, even if only for the sake of professionalism. I, as a professional autobiographer, would be remiss in my duty, were I to recollect for you only the happier moments of my life. That would be only one half of one story; only one half of one life (and the shorter half at that).

Try as I might, I cannot forget my responsibility to my readers, who have either dished out an assload of cash for this volume, or else risked incarceration by stealing it (it'll make more sense after it's published). Whichever way it was for you, dear reader, brace yourself. Prepare yourself for the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

So help me God.


Off to a pretty good start, aren't we? Next time, I'll let you all have a gander at chapter one. Should be a hoot.