Ten

I've been enjoying my work blog, but since I don't always have enough stuff going on to make a decent post, and since I have other thoughts I'd like to share, I decided to start a companion blog. Don't expect me to adopt any personae for this. I just might occasionally have something I feel I need to express.

For instance:

I just purchased Pearl Jam's Ten remix. I bought the version with the remixed/bonus tracks, and I gotta say, I like it. The differences from the original tracks are subtle, but they are there. Most noticeable is the fact that all the reverb is gone.

I always felt like Ten didn't fit somehow with Pearl Jam's other albums. Now it does. Now they have a comprehensive body of work. It shows definitively that PJ was never a metal band, just a good rock & roll outfit.

So I listened to Let It Be...Naked again. I read up on it. Naked is how the Beatles (with the possible exception of Lennon) wanted that album to sound. Thanks, Sir Paul, for fixing it.

Both of these albums show the raw performing power of these bands. They didn't need all the layering, the overdubbing, the technological trickery to make this music sound good. I recommend giving both a listen.

Death Threats and Suicide Watches

The reason I started this blog was to possibly show that Municipal Planning wasn't so boring that accountants said, "Well at least I'm not doing that."  These past couple weeks have certainly gone a long way toward proving my point.

Let me just state that, even though I am quartermaster for a crew of cutthroats as bloodthirsty as any, I don't enjoy an excess of drama and adventure in my life.  I would have made a great hobbit.  No adventure, and lots of meals--that's me.  So I was shocked to learn that the da of one of our Plank-holders--a Plank-Holder who has built a cabin with blatant disregards of the Articles--called up just about everyone who would listen and threatened them with hideous medieval tortures.  The most aggravating part is that hideous medieval tortures are my job.  The son has gone into hiding, but we figure he must still be aboard, as someone keeps scrawling ominous messages ("Keep out!  This means you!  Avast!  Go back, for the path you take will lead to certain DOOOM!!")  for us every time we take some action against him, such as marooning his stowaways or barricading his cabins.

As if that weren't enough, another crewman has been stockpiling rats as pets, and when we told him he can't keep that much vermin in his bunk (last thing we need is an outbreak of plague), he went on about how ever since his wife was lost at sea, the rats are all he has to remember her by.  Bear in mind, there hasn't been some transgression on this ship that wasn't accompanied by a similar heart-rending tale, but if we let him keep his rats, everyone will wants more rats, and the next thing you know, somebody's contracted the Black Death.

We are already embattled by another crewman and his excessive rat problem; unfortunately, as we are a privateer operating under another's colors, this case is being decided by the local magistrate sometime next month.  It would be sooner, but there are always a lot of pirates operating without a Letter, and those scalawags' hangings take precedence.

Response to the Carpenter Mate

It's a pirate ship.  If we have anything, It's bottles.

Note to the Carpenter's Mate

We have plenty o' bottles for ye and your messages! Rum bottles, wine bottles, you name it...

Listen Up, Ye Mongrels!

Ahoy me hearties! Quatermaster's log, Stardate...crud...never really got how to calculate Stardate.

It's been very busy on the ship, lately. Lest you think my job is merely punishing the blaggards who try to shirk the Articles, I also last week helped explain to the Markholders why exactly we wanted to expand certain crew quarters beyond their current capacity. We were denied, but we asked.

And now on to the scuttlebutt that's actually interesting.

No floggings yet, but we have alerted those crew that they will have to relocate to other cabins.

One of the crew was keeping pigeons in his bunk, which is not allowed in close quarters. They have all since mysteriously disappeared. It's best not to ask where they've gone; I'm just glad they are.

Moving closer toward some sort of penal action is the crewman who set up his bunk too close to another. I am waiting to hear his justification, but he has been avoiding me. Lashes (or the threat thereof) might loosen his tongue a little.

I am also waiting on proof that two of the crew are pooling their shares and therefore should not be separated, as their quarters are getting a little crowded. We recently decided that if crewmen can provide proper justification and are pooling their shares for some common purpose, we would allow them to continue bunking together, as that way they can keep an eye on their communal horde. They are, after all, pirates, and would end up accusing each other of all sorts of untrustworthiness if separated, and I don't like risking gunfire on the ship if it's uncalled for.

Always remember, Plank Holders, to keep track of how many crew cabins you're allowed to build in your part of the ship. If you've only got enough room for four cabins, don't try to sneak in a fifth between the ribs. And make sure the crew bunking there don't harbor stowaways. That's a floggable offense. One Plank'er's just finding that out right about...oh...now. I expect he'll be banging on my door soon.

Also make sure you keep track of who's in your quarters, lest you go through unnecessary stress trying to explain why certain crew show up in cabin assignments when they're not supposed to be there.

That brings me current. I shall sign off now, as I soon need to take my turn walking the bridge and inspecting our fine vessel.