L o b a B l a n c a {dot} c o m

Whilst walking/jogging/limping/suffering around the local high school track on Sunday, I listened to one of my favorite podcasts as they dissected the Halloween movie franchise.

This is quite the bittersweet topic for me. I continue to consider John Carpenter’s original 1978 movie to be not just a horror classic but quite possibly one of the absolute finest that the horror genre has to offer. At the very least, I know that it’s in my top three (and if you ask me on the right day, it’s my number one favorite horror movie of all time).

That being said, the franchise itself is…well, “a bit shit” is probably the nicest way I can describe the rest of the Halloween franchise. With the exception of one or two of the sequels, which aren’t necessarily good but rather palatable in comparison with the rest of the franchise, I’d have to say it’s an embarrassing legacy to the macabre joy of Carpenter’s original offering. And don’t even get me started on Rob Zombie’s vulgar reboot. Actually, you don’t need to; I’ve already torn into that particular affront to my horror movie sensibilities.

A strange thing happened, however, as I listened to the guys discuss these movies: a funny little idea that, throughout the rest of my torturous time at the track, took root in my overly fertile imagination and bloomed into the following poster. I’m not even certain what moment sparked this idea, but the more I thought about it, the more I needed to make it happen. Plus, the fact that the original Michael Myers mask was an altered Captain Kirk mask makes this all the more humorous to this horror movie/sci-fi dork. After all, what better way to update the original than to make it another Trek icon’s face as the new mask?

As for the image of Patrick Stewart in a rather non-Picard outfit, I decided that I wanted him to look more like Donald Pleasence’s Dr. Sam Loomis than his TNG counterpart. For a nanosecond, I considered going with Malcolm McDowell as sort of a Dr. Soran/New Dr. Loomis crossover. But then I remembered my anger toward McDowell’s Loomis and quickly kaboshed that idea. Besides, we all know that Sir Patrick is the best choice anyway, right? Right.

I know, I know. You wish you had this shirt, don’t you? Sorry, denizens. La Loba has to keep some secrets to herself…

Star Trek Über-Geek Cred in 3…2…1

You have no idea, denizens, how nerd-melty this makes me. I kid you not when I say that I have wanted a pair of Dr. Selar’s ears since I first saw the good doctor on the TNG second season episode, “The Schizoid Man.” Seriously. Not just Vulcan ears. Not even Mr. Spock’s ears (and I love Mr. Spock!). They had to be Dr. Selar’s ears. Like I’ve said before, I’m persnickety.

I always thought this was just going to be another one of my sad little geek dreams, kind of like owning one of Dr. Crusher’s lab coats or somehow obtaining one of the scarves that hang from Steven Tyler’s microphone stand (okay, that’s a completely different type of geekery…but it’s still one of my obsessions).

Then Mirror Universe things occurred in my life and I found myself standing on the precipice of Ultimate Geek Attainment. And I took it. Grabbed it with both hands and ran. Didn’t look back once.

So, yes, these are actually a pair of the ears that the beautiful and talented Suzie Plakson wore as Dr. Selar. I think they might even be the only pair left. They’re at least the only pair from Ms. Plakson’s personal collection. As is the photo of her as Dr. Selar, reading an issue of Omni magazine. Cute, no? The letter on the left is a lovely vignette that Ms. Plakson wrote about the ears. No, you can’t read it. Loba must keep some things to herself, you know. Oh, and this awesome custom framing? I can has amazingly talented aunt who does things like this for her geeky niece? Yes, please.

And there you go. Ultimate Geek Attainment. F.T.W.

Well, that was a Grand Diva blog post title, wasn’t it? I’m weathering unbelievable life tsunamis on multiple fronts right now, which unfortunately means the lair gets neglected. It’s not really how I’d like things. Then again, I do like getting a regular paycheck, so there you go.

However, I am thinking of you all, dear denizens. Which is why I bring you this link for PointlessSites.com. The name is pretty self-explanatory, no? I found this link several years ago, visited it with great frequency for a while, then completely forgot about it. Until I came upon the link a few minutes ago while searching through one of my personal e-mail inboxes.

Yes, I said one of. Don’t ask. The answer isn’t worth it.

And, hell, because I’m in a giving mood, here’s another of my favorite photos from TrekCore.com. Featured is, of course, the ever lovely Gates McFadden, hugging the fantastically talented, “I would have given anything in the world to work with him” makeup artist extraordinaire Michael Westmore. To those who are not familiar with Westmore, he was “Da Man” when it came to makeup designs for all the Star Trek spinoffs. If I remember my trivia correctly, he created the look for the Ferengi, the Bajorans, the Cardassians…even the Ocampa and the Kazon (okay, so there are duds here and there). He was also the one who personally hand-painted each and every one of Jadzia Dax’s leopard spots, which he would then sign. Honest! Oh, and he started out as Butch “I’m Eddie Munster” Patrick’s makeup artist on The Munsters. How effing cool is that?

I had a moment of epic geek proportions on my commute home this evening that I simply had to share with my denizens.

My drive home takes me through a busy section of city that calls for a lot of stop-n-go for about 3 miles. It’s not as bad as it sounds as I typically spend the time waiting for the traffic report and deciding what I’m going to listen to for the rest of the time I’m on the road. I know, tsk to me for splitting my attention.

So today, we’re all in a relatively speedy groove and I’m lucking out with all green lights. I’m also well ahead of the bus that runs its route along this same stretch of road. I can see it about five cars behind me and I’m well chuffed because I’ve beat it (and obviously listening to a British podcast, which encourages me to use slang like “well chuffed” even though I know it would make me sound like a proper git if I ever actually tried to use it in casual conversation).

Anyway, there are a couple of people standing at the bus stop, including a somewhat largely built guy (I think the proper term for him recently appeared in my Rob Zombie rant: “built like a brick shit house”). He’s wearing camouflage shorts, work boots, an unbuttoned jean shirt, and a T-shirt. More precisely, he’s wearing the T-shirt you see above. Yes, he is sporting a vintage fourth season Star Trek: The Next Generation cast T-shirt.

I have this same shirt. It’s in sad, over-laundered shape thanks to becoming the shirt that I slept in all the time, but I still have it, folded up in one of my “boxes of shame” (Pandoro ain’t got nothin’ on Loba). I loved this shirt. Loved the poses. Loved the weird layout that made it look like the crew was: a) letting off a weird nuclear glow; b) floating in space; and c) GINORMOUS in comparison with the Enterprise. Loved Beverly’s yellow hair.

What do I love even more? That I literally squeed when I saw this shirt on a dude I never in a million years would have pegged as a Trekkie. Just hanging out and heading home at the end of the work day. Wearing a shirt that’s more than 20 years old.

Tell me that doesn’t just blast awesome.

Enough serious. It’s Friday, FFS.

So, here. A combination of two of my favorite obsessions: the British and Star Trek. I think I may have pulled something with how fiercely I smiled throughout this entire video.

It remains a simple truth that, though I may not have my own Twitter account, I continue to haunt the tweets of my ImagiFriends^TM.

One, two, Loba’s coming for you…

Trying extremely hard to be beautiful, succeeding in an obviously fake way, and possessing no real substance beneath the pretty.

I have a nerd notebook in which I write nerd notes about nerdy things. I wrote this about Avatar. I honestly don’t even remember writing it, but it made me laugh this morning when I discovered it while looking for something else in my notes.

My apologies to Avatar and James Cameron for the harsh comparison.

A Star Trek/X-Men crossover? Wouldn’t that be the most awesome thing ever?

Actually, no it wouldn’t be. Okay, sadly, I own this book. It’s sitting on my bookshelf right now. Mocking me with its blatant mediocrity. I have nerd shame about very little, but this book sends nerd shivers through my spine. And not the good kind.

Anyway, I whipped this up after random afternoon geek-dreaming in which I tried to figure out a way of fixing the X-Men movie franchise while crossing it over and tying it in with the aftermath of the TNG episode “The Host.” You know, the episode that introduced us to the Trill…and also introduced us to the uncomfortable realization that Beverly and Riker did the nasty, Trek-style (but only after Bev made sure Deanna was down with that).

No one checked with Professor Xavier…er, Captain Picard, though. I suspect he might have been a bit miffed, don’t you?

Like I said…silly geek-dreaming. Of course, this actually sounds better than that shit bog of a third X-Men movie that they actually made.

Dear Scotland,
You don’t know me. I’m just another of the millions of wacky voices out here in teh Interwebz ether, screaming into the winds of egoizing inanity.

Truth is, I don’t really know you either. I mean, I know where you are (I’m not that American that I can’t locate you on a globe or a world map). I know things like you’re part of the United Kingdom, you’re Gaelic (sorry, is that a “don’t ask, don’t tell” topic with you?), and you love thistles, ponies, and men who go commando in their kilts. Oh, and you deep-fry candy bars, which makes you kind of sexy.

What I don’t understand, however, is why one of your residents found me through a keyword search of unimaginable cruelty. An Edinburghian…er, Edinburgher? Someone from Edinburgh found my lair through the keyword phrase “gates mcfadden bad actress.”

You wound me, Scotland, and your wound is deep and painful. Look, you’ve also upset Dr. Crusher.

What did I ever do to Scotland?

What kind of country are you, making the Enterprise‘s CMO cry like that?

Bad Scotland. BAD.

[For the record, that phrase never before appeared at the lair in any capacity. Well, except for now, thanks to you, Scotland! I counteract your meanness with this: Gates McFadden Excellent Awesome Super Duper Amazing Spectacular Actress. Ha!]

It’s no big secret that I’m a bit of a cheap wolf. My shelves of used DVDs and books are probably the greatest confirmation of this statement. For others, I pull out all the stops. For me? Meh. I’m okay with sloppy seconds.

Wait. That came out so very wrong. What I mean is that I don’t mind buying something that someone else previously owned. I’m a frequent Amazon Marketplace and eBay lurker. If you know how to play the game (and are looking for arcane enough merchandise), you can get really great bargains. Like the still-sealed set of all 10 seasons of Dangermouse I found for under $5, including shipping.

All that being said, sometimes I get these weird urges. Geek desire poisons my blood with its fever, and I start lusting after things that I know I don’t need.

But I want them. Like the Force FX Mace Windu lightsaber replica that I want, not because I give a rat’s ass about Mace Windu…but because it’s purple. Purple, people. I love purple.

And, yes, I do blame the Admiral for this current object of Loba geek lust. Why did I have to touch his lightsaber?!?

Or how about this? A realistic replica of Freddy Krueger’s razor claw, created by RazorGloves.com?

Is there any valid reason for spending that much money on a prop replica? And by valid, I mean something other than the shiver of horror geek joy I felt when I heard the screech of metal on metal that the blades made against this piece of steel. Of course not! But when I see this or the Mace Windu lightsaber replica, I feel this overwhelming urge to hunker over and scurry about hissing, “We wants it, we needs it. Must have the precious!!”

What is this insidious Pavlovian need that seems to dwell within the hearts of so many of my fandom brethren and…er, sistren? Why is it that we are so conditioned as geeks and nerds to lust after these things that “normies” consider silly or pointless? Is it not enough for us to enjoy the shows and movies from which such merchandise was born?

And if it is enough, why then can I not shake the pressing need to somehow acquire one of Dr. Crusher’s blue lab coats? And don’t think for a second that I’m kidding on this one. I would have even settled for that weird-looking first season lab coat she wore. But for more than $1,000?

Sigh. Maybe Gates McFadden has a spare lab coat and one day she’ll find the lair and be so blown away by my undying devotion to her character that she’ll give me said spare.

And right after that happens, Starbuck will find me and ask me to be her wingwolf.

Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go sulk and polish my hypospray. And that is not a euphemism.