Happy Easter 2024!

He Is Risen!

I hope everyone is enjoying a restful, worshipful day.  Easter is here!  Christ Is Resurrected!

Enjoy time with family, celebrating Christ’s Resurrection—and the promise of His Return.

Happy Easter, everyone!

—TPP

SubscribeStar Saturday: Disco Elysium

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I recently picked up the “final cut” of Disco Elysium during the Steam Spring Sale at the amazing price of $9.99 (it usually MRSPs for $39.99).  It’s a game I’d heard about since its release in 2019, but always with an air of mystery around it.  It’s a roleplaying game, yes, but totally different from the typical fantasy-inspired roleplaying worlds of, say, The Elder Scrolls series or even the sci-fi roleplaying of Cyberpunk 2077 or Starfield (Ponty’s promised a review of CP2077, and I am quite excited to read it).

There have been non-fantasy roleplaying games before, to be sure, and even those that take place in the modern-ish world.  Disco Elysium, however, is unlike any other game I’ve ever played, roleplaying or otherwise, and after just a few hours of gameplay—and having not even solved the first case yet!—I love it.

It also turns out the game can be had on consoles—and much more affordably than the default Steam price.  Amazon has it on the Nintendo Switch ($25), the Playstation 4 (marked down $16.90 at the time of writing), and the XBox One ($24).  If I’d known it was on the Switch I likely would have got for that console (and may still do so), but I think the game is meant to be played on the PC.  That said, I can tell it’s quite console-friendly based on the controls.

What sets Disco Elysium apart from other games, I think, is that most of the game is dialogue—with your own mind.  And not just one, unified mind, but your character’s entire nervous system.  It is probably the closest simulation I’ve ever experienced to what goes on in my mind, although I’m not a drug-addled 70s-style super cop down on his luck.

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TBT^2: Spring Break Short Story Recommendation 2022: “Witch’s Money”

It’s SPRING BREAK, baby!  Finally, at long last, yours portly has eleven glorious days (counting weekends) to recuperate from a rather brutal semester, before slogging through one more round of it.

I typically experience severe burnout about twice a year, and it has hit hard lately.  I’m sleeping poorly, working constantly, and eating excessively.  My overall health has suffered, and I need to shut down for a few days.

Shut down—and read short stories!  Every year I offer up my Spring Break Short Story Recommendations, which will start up next week.  But here is a little preview of a past story recommendation.

With that, here is 6 April 2023’s “TBT: Spring Break Short Story Recommendation 2022: ‘Witch’s Money’“:

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Love Letters

Last week I read Taki’s Magazine for the first time in awhile, and I’m glad I did.  The magazine’s owner and editor, Taki Theodoracopulos, wrote a piece entitled “A Love Letter to Love Letters,” about—in case it wasn’t clear—love letters.

I was on a letter writing kick a few years ago, as The Age of The Virus granted ample time to indulge in time-consuming hobbies.  I am still a proponent of writing handwritten letters, though I have not written nearly as many lately.

Taki’s piece, however, quite eloquently explains the appeal of writing letters.  While he focuses on love letters, his arguments apply to letters generally.

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Monday Morning Movie Review: A Bucket of Blood (1959)

Thanks to Joe Bob Briggs and The Last Drive-In with Joe Bob Briggs, I’ve finally experienced some film inspirado.  To celebrate seventy—yes, seventy (70)—years of filmmaking, Joe Bob and Darcy the Mail Girl hosted a special live edition of the show to honor Roger Corman.

For the uninitiated, Roger Corman is the king of the B movies.  He’s made anywhere from 500-700 films; one source of the disputed figure is that Corman himself doesn’t know how many films he’s made!  Casual fans most likely know Corman from 1960’s The Little Shop of Horrors, which was filmed on the same sets as this week’s film, A Bucket of Blood (1959).  Tonally and narratively, the two films are very similar (as a fun aside, The Little Shop of Horrors was the first flick I watched on Shudder).

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Lazy Sunday CXLIII: Food II

Yours portly loves food, and if my constantly fluctuating weight is any indication, I have a contentious relationship with it.  Food for us fatties is like a narcotic to the addict:  we know we shouldn’t eat so much of it, but it numbs us to the harsh realities of life.  Conquering the hold food has over us is an eternal struggle.

So here I have some classic posts about food (or the lack thereof):

Bon Appétit!

—TPP

Other Lazy Sunday Installments:

SubscribeStar Saturday: Sartorial Decline

Today’s post is a SubscribeStar Saturday exclusive.  To read the full post, subscribe to my SubscribeStar page for $1 a month or more.  For a full rundown of everything your subscription gets, click here.

People are not dressing well anymore.

I’ll include myself in that assessment.  When I first started teaching, I wore a coat and tie every day, although I’d shed the coat pretty quickly.  On Fridays, when teachers were allowed to wear jeans, I’d make myself wear a tie if I wore jeans, as a compromise (that also used to be my stage look—jeans, sports coat, tie).

Since The Age of The Virus, everything has loosened up.  I happily wear polo shirts—tucked in!—to work most everyday, aside from the six weeks of frosty winter we sometimes get in South Carolina.  Fiddling around in an un-air-conditioned football pressbox in August is far more pleasant when I’m not wearing a long-sleeve button-up with a goofy tie.

Indeed, teachers can now wear jeans, so long as they are of a darker hue, any day of the week.  My female colleagues avail themselves of this privilege fairly shamelessly.  As I descend elegantly into middle age, I’ve adopted the uniform of my people:  five-pocket workman’s slacks with a tucked-in polo or short-sleeve button-up shirt.

What has stirred my sartorial ire is not form-fitting jeans or polo shirts, but the prevalence of pajamas—yes, outright pajamas—among the general population.

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