Did You know I made Weird Music?

Surprisingly Famous

An Update on my Youtube Channel

Hey did you know I’m a youtuber? A lot of people don’t, for some reason. Anyway, here’s what’s been happening over at youtube.com/savethecroissants lately. 

Be sure to like the ones you liked and subscribe! I mean, google has decided subscribing is basically meaningless but when you do it means a lot to me.

None of This is Art

This took me days to make. 

Effort ≠ Art.

Evergreen {Quarter 1}

I’m not a good communicator.

Christmas 2013

     Hey, Merry Christmas. I say ‘merry’ at the beginning of every holiday now, because ‘happy’ is a feeling, but ‘merry’ is an attitude, like a higher level of happy. But everyone looks at me funny when I say “Merry Thanksgiving!” Or “Merry New Years!” So it’s nice having a holiday where you can say merry properly.
     We’ve got a very big show for you today, first a video of me telling a winter–type story, perfect for all you displaced northerners, and then we have a bunch of pictures. Not a lot of text, because it’s all packed into the video! Almost a thousand words and the bonus of my face. You’re welcome. Merry Christmas. Merry Holidays too.

The Obscurantists

     I was reading a book about libraries, and they made reference to this old guy who had opposed the exploration of the new world. I forgot his name, but they called him an Obscurantist. That word struck me, I was sort of familiar with the concept of someone who would oppose new things, who would embrace obscurity in all its forms. I am that guy, most of the time. Then this record cover came to me almost in one piece in my brain. 

    I sort of imagine them playing retro R&B style music with a saxophone, a xylophone. some drums, and a crackly electric guitar. All their songs would sound uplifting, but are in fact veiled cries for help,  or angry sounding but with very cheerful lyrics. There would have to be that juxtaposition. And they would have lots of secret references to an agreed upon, very boring text. Possibly a history of europe. 

Tracks: {*Most if not all imaginary}

[Side 1]

1. I’m Alright, Alright!
2. Please Stop Calling Me
3. Here We Go, Oh No
4. Glorious Court 
5. Love is for Losers and Us Two Too

[Side 2]

1. You’re Okay By Me
2. Sometimes is not Forever All The Time But it is When it Rains
3. Nothing Can Hurt You if You Don’t Care
4. Let’s be Boring Together
5. We’re All Going to be Okay

Original

Better version of original

How to Photography

Step up step up!
Have YOU ever wanted to take pictures of things but just didn’t know where to START?
ALLOW ME!

For the next couple of weeks watch this playlist: http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLStygM4i5VdDzVFqNwO_J1CjDaJcKIPRn
And subscribe for ensured delivery of subsequent installments!

Florence: Gross

Seriously, this one is gross. 

If you’re a veganitarian please go read one of the other absurdly long photo posts we have available.

The Ponte Vecchio {and the Vasari Corridor}

This is a bridge in Italy most people know, I had always assumed it was flanked by several similar but inferior bridges and that this is how all the old bridges used to be.
Wrong!
 In fact the only reason this bridge is like this is because the family that used to run this town {The Medicis} wanted to get from their palace to the office without going down on the mucky street with the dirty common people.  So they had a famous architect build the Vasari Corridor on top of the shops that were already there.

Panorama: The Ponte Vecchio

Panorama: The Old Bridge. 

Here you can really see where they built on top of the old shops. 

The Inside of the Duomo, and the Baptistery

The inside of the duomo is very nice, but it’s also very big and very dark and I left the tripod in America. {SO HEAVY}
So bear with me here.

WARNING TO RELIGIOUS/UPTIGHT PEOPLE: There are some pictures of an old painting where the devil or somebody is stuffing sinners in his mouth.
It’s bloody and kind of gross, but still, it’s religion.
Oh, there’s also an actual human skull.
I think it’s a saint, or something.

 Detail: Doors with sheep on them. 

They’re really big on sheep here.

The main interior of the duomo, walk up view.

Florence, [Walk Around 2]

Warning: There are a couple of pictures of official reproductions of the world–famous statue by Michelangelo; David.
  He’s naked. But he’s also a statue.
  If you’re up–tight or super religious or something; You’ve Been Warned. 
   Seriously. 
     You can see his little carved…Erhgh–hurm. If that bothers you please go do something else.
Also: There’s a statue of Perseus and Medusa’s head. It’s copper or something, but still kind of gross.

Detail: San Lorenzo windows.

Detail: Piazza della Repubblica.

This thing is actually really cool, I was wandering around the Piazza della Repubblica and I noticed this big clump of people, all staring at a thing. So, like a human I had to know what this thing that was so interesting was.

Facebook

So I’m on facebook now. 

Me: http://www.facebook.com/jacob.earl.792

Save The Croissants: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Save-the-Croissants/189657707846900?ref=hl

ALSO: Fredrickson is not my real name. RELEVANT: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0pg0pSWrL0I&list=UUO9GYqZP0AMwATJvW8_D2Jg&index=2

CWA Mini–Sode: An Early Hallowe’en Costume

  Dr. Smith fished a piece of machined steel out of his pants pocket, eyeballing it above the thing he was working on.  He shook his head and set it down on the table, it wasn’t going to fit.
Bip
Boop
Bonk

  “Sir?”
 “Yes, Jeeves?”

Dr. Smith picked the thing up and squinted at it; a solution presented itself.
 “How do you like my hallowe’en costume?”

Dr. Smith smiled. “I see what you did there.”

How To Leave A Comment

STEP 1: Go to STCroiss.blogspot.com. If you’re reading this, you’re probably already there. This is the FRONT PAGE, it has a long list of all the posts.

STEP 2: Click on either;

     A. The Title of the post you want to comment on;

Or

     B. Scroll to the bottom of the post you want to comment on and click [0] Comments [0] Rections {May or may not say 0, depending on whether or not there are any comments or reactions}

This will bring you to the POST PAGE, {every post has one} It’s just like the FRONT PAGE but with only one post on it.

The one you want to comment on.

SCOLL DOWN.


STEP 3: See this bit? It is the COMMENT AREA.

Now, you have a choice. EITHER:

     A. Login Now
or
     B. Login Afterwards

You’ll need to login at some point, as if you don’t your name won’t show up.
For the purposes of demonstration let’s LOGIN NOW.
There’s a login button in the upper righthand corner of the COMMENT AREA, press that.

A thingy will pop up; the LOGIN THINGY

 This is the default option, and it’s an OKAY option but not really the best one, as it won’t remember you and you’ll have to type in your name every time.
I would only use this option if you already have a disqus profile to feed it.

Along the left side are OTHER options,

• Google
• Twitter
• Facebook
• Yahoo
• OpenID

I would suggest THESE options, as there is no typing if you’re already logged into any of those things.

For the purposes of demonstration, let’s choose Google.
{The Process is the same for any of the other options.}

STEP 4:

Select “Sign in with Google” A popup will…pop up. THIS IS OKAY.

Press the “Allow” button.

Now, after you do this, you should never have to login again, the computer should remember you.

STEP 5:

Remember the COMMENT AREA?

As per the prompt type in your comment.

Then, in the bottom lefthand corner of the COMMENT AREA Press the POST AS [YOUR NAME HERE] button.

STEP 6: 


Wait for me to approve the comment you just wrote. This may take a whole day, it may take no time at all. 


STEP 7: 

  

The CWA of Dr. Z Smith: Episode #114: Tempus Fugit

Darkness.
A man screaming.
Dr. Smith sat up sharply, the man was him.
He stopped screaming and opened his eyes.

-=fig. 696: where am i?=-

“Where am I?” he asked himself. A noise made him look to his left, there lay Capt. Brown, asleep.
He corrected himself. “Where Are We?”
Capt. Brown sat up, “Do you always wake up screaming?”
“No,” Replied Dr. Smith “But it's not unusual. Do you know where we are?”
“No, where?”
“It wasn’t a rhetorical question, where are we?”
“Oh. In that case, I dunno. It sure is hot enough though, isn’t it.”
“Okay, what’s the last thing you remember?”
Capt. Brown thought for a moment, “Well, we were in the past, in your living room, and I'd just said …um…something. Huh. I can’t remember what it was.”
“Never mind that, our memories have been wiped–” He carefully avoided mentioning the fact that he had memory-modification technology {because he really hoped he hadn’t wiped his own memory and dumped himself in the middle of nowhere.} “What's important now is what we have to work with, what’s in your pockets?”
Capt. Brown turned out his pockets, he had:

• Six-and-a-half dollars in half-dollar coins,
• A tourist map of the legopolis sewer system and adjoining undercity area,
• A paperback adaption of a Raymond Chandler novel
• And a small bag of marbles, won off the children who occupy the street in front of his apartment building. {Including but not limited to: a magnificent blue marbled shooter, a clambroth, lutz, oxblood, three tigers and a croton alley, along with some less exciting-sounding marbles.}

Dr. Smith had:

• No money, {but that was not unusual}
• A brochure {in french} for a free skydiving class,
• One bus token,
• A well-polished lock-pick set,
• A paperclip,
• A note, bearing Dr. Smith’s name, address and phone number, along with the instruction to ‘Ask for Jeeves, He'll explain everything.’ {He kept this in his pocket at all times, in case of a sudden attack of amnesia, unfortunately this attack of amnesia was far too specific for this paper to be of any use.}

Along with all this, Dr. Smith’s satchel had been replaced with a rather nice scabbard, which in turn contained his favoured sabre.
“Well, It's not much,” Said Capt. Brown “But at least we have all the stuff in your briefcase.”
Dr. Smith agreed and opened his briefcase.
It was empty.
Dr. Smith stared at the empty briefcase.
It did not magically become filled with various items.
“Why would I empty my briefcase?” Dr. Smith asked the air.
“I don’t know,“ Replied Capt. Brown, “But without all the stuff that was in there ¹, all we have are the things in our pockets. Our pockets, I might add, do not contain food, nor water. And it's hot here.”
“Let's get to some shade, then.” Suggested Dr. Smith.
The stood up and looked around.
It was flat {and terrain-wise, boring} in addition to hot wherever it was they were. But off to one side was a wooded area. If you could call palm-style trees a wooded area.
They walked towards that.
It was further away than it looked, and once they got there they were hot, tired, and thirsty.

  Dr. Smith examined the area. It was  slightly more interesting over here, but just as hot. There was a mass of twisted red metal just in front of them, Dr. Smith wondered what it had once been.
A sharp movement startled Capt. Brown, he reached for his guns, as was his first reflex. They weren't there, but he could feel the weight of his back-up gun on his hip so he drew that.

-=fig. 697: the stranded airman=-

  “Don’t Shoot!” Said the man, who had been in the shadow of the metal, where it presumably was cooler.  Capt. Brown didn't shoot, but he didn't lower his gun, either.
 “Wait, what is that?” Asked the man, gesturing toward the gun.
 “Aha, don’t try your mind tricks on me, I know them all. This is a Smith & Wesson .38 revolver. Fully loaded, I might add.”
  But Dr. Smith wasn’t so sure. “James,” He said, “That's not a revolver.”  It was only then Capt. Brown looked down. He nearly dropped the what-ever-it-was. “Zachary?” Asked a panicked Capt. Brown “Erm, what is it?”  He handed it to Dr. Smith.
  Dr. Smith turned it over a couple of times in his hands, it wasn’t heavy, not for a gun, it was green at the tip, and on the side a dial showed that it was firmly in the purple area.  As opposed to the orange area.
 “Looks like a Ray-Gun.” Dr. Smith said, handing it back to Capt. Brown “Seems to be fully charged, unless purple means empty.”  Capt. Brown brandished the Ray-Gun at the hapless man. “You hear that?” he said, “Fully charged. Probably.  So you better not make any sudden moves.”
  “I wasn’t planning on it. I’m Floyd, by the way. Floyd Schwartz.  And you are?”
 Capt. Brown was forced to holster the Ray-Gun, as his right hand was his hand-shaking-hand. “Captain James Brown–” He said, transitioning from ‘killer’ mode to ‘baby-kisser’ mode seamlessly “–of the Legopolis City Rooftop Police, Mayor of the Grand City of Legopolis. But you can call me Capt. Brown.” Floyd shook Capt. Brown’s hand and walked over to Dr. Smith. “Hi, ” He said, offering his hand “Floyd Schartz. But you can call me Floyd.”
  Dr. Smith glanced at the hand. “Dr. Smith.” He said. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Schwartz.”
 Floyd glanced at his own hand, hanging there, and awkwardly put it in his pocket.
 Dr. Smith walked closer to the metal. Then he figured out what it was. “It's a X-1000!” He cried.
 “Well, Yeah.” Said Floyd. “It was. Before I crashed.”
 “What happened?” Asked Capt. Brown, He had a passing interest in planes, being a rooftop policeman.
 “Well,” Replied Floyd “I was flying along, and then the engine stopped working, the controls froze up, and I started dropping like a stone. No warning. I had to parachute out.”
 “Well, yeah.” Said Dr. Smith, with the tone of someone explaining something to a child, “It's an X-1000. How long have you been in the air?”
  Floyd reached into the glovebox to retrieve his log, “Let's see, Five hours today, six hours yesterday, and three-and-a-half hours the day before that.”
 “Wow.” Said. Dr. Smith, obviously impressed. “Fourteen-and-a-half hours without a catastophic failure? I believe that's a new record for a Dödsfälla X-1000.”
 Floyd was sort of dejected.  “The salesman was so compelling. He said they couldn’t keep them on the lot.”
 Dr. Smith nodded knowingly, “Because they fall apart if you leave them sitting still too long.”
 “Since we're all stranded here” Capt. Brown said, trying to lighten the mood, “You have any water?”
 “Sure,” Replied Floyd, “More than I can really thought I’d need, I used a coupon. Good thing too, I guess, now that I'm stranded in a desert.”
 Dr. Smith started paying attention. If he were a dog, his ears would have ben described as being perked up.   He took a sidelong glance at the plane.  “I can fix it.” He said.
  “What?” asked Floyd, he was surprised by this, seeing as how his plane had basically been described as unfixable.
  “I can fix it.” Repeated Dr. Smith. “The plane. I can make it fly.”
  Floyd was suspicious. “What's your price?” He asked.
  Capt. Brown jumped in before Dr. Smith could tell him their price was nothing. “Our price is two-thirds of your water.”
  “That seems rather steep–”
  “Well,” said Capt. Brown “There are two of us. Besides, we’d be stuck here whereas you might escape.”
Floyd had to admit that this was logical, and consented to the deal.  Dr. Smith walked over and placed his hands on the broken machine.  If he were a spiritual man he would have described its shattered aura.
But he wasn’t.
So he couldn’t.  The best he could have managed {had he been in a sharing mood} Was the machine’s general feeling of brokenness.
  “Have you any tools?” He asked.  Floyd thought, “I have a hammer?” was his answer “And some screwdrivers. One of those wrenches that adjusts, but that’s about it.”
 Dr. Smith grimaced, “No Air Compressor? Electric Hog-Ring Pliers?  Drill Press? Tube Tester? Pop-riveter?”
 “I’m Afraid not, no.”
 “Not even an Arc Welder?”
 “No, sorry.”
Dr. Smith sighed. “This is going to take a very long time.”
Capt. Brown tapped him on the shoulder, “Don’t worry, I’ll help.”
It did take a good long time, but it took less time that it could have thanks to Capt. brown and his helpful ability to lift incredibly heavy things.
Like plane wings.
And fuselages.
And engines.
His strength also came in handy when there was a rivet that needed setting.  A normal man would require a specially compressed and counterweighted device, { using the same theory as the small gears on a bicycle }  Capt. Brown required a hammer.
When it was finally done, Floyd Schwartz climbed into the one-man cockpit.

-=fig. 698: the jaunty craft, poised to take flight=-

  “It’s…Magnificent.” he said in a voice just above whisper.

  “It only looks like that.” Corrected Dr. Smith, ever keen to rain on a parade with reality. “A lot of parts were broken, So I had to use what I could, and what I couldn’t use but needed I re-purposed from elsewhere.  On the plus side, It’s a lot lighter now. On the negative side you no longer have brakes, a muffler, a cargo door, seat springs, or even an attitude indicator, and you only have seven functioning cylinders.”

  “Well, how many did I start with?”

  “Twelve. Theoretically. But most X-1000s roll off the line with only ten functioning cylinders.”

  “Will I be able to fly?” Floyd was getting nervous now.

  “Probably, but you’ll also be hemorrhaging fuel, so don’t plan on going more than about a hundred miles. Oh one more thing,” Dr. Smith added, almost as an afterthought, “When you start it up, Your dashboard will light up like a city at night, every single warning light will come on. Temp problems, low oil, check engine, compression failure,  And they‘re all true. Try not to land unless…well, I was going to say unless you have to.  But try to only land if you see somewhere with people. Or possibly airplane parts. Most preferably both.” 

  Floyd Schwartz nodded and solemnly donned his flight goggles.

The engine cranked three times before Capt. Brown walked over and hand cranked the propeller. 

It started then. 

They watched the impossible plane fly away. 

-=fig. 699: airbourne=-

Something occurred to Capt. Brown. “We got that water off of him, Right?”

  “Oh yeah.” 

  “Good.”

¹ Stuff such as: Water, a Tent, two comfy red Armchairs, a Record Player, a Small Table, a Radio, a change of clothes {For Capt. Brown as well as Dr. Smith} basic foodstuffs, like Potatoes and Bacon, and tools of all sorts. Mostly obscure ones, but also things like hammers and screwdrivers, firewood, matches, and an espresso machine.

So Long!

Flying From Here {Palmer, Alaska} to California {By way of canada} tomorrow in Dad's 180.
{It's a plane, a small one, as they go.}
This will take a week or so, and when I get there, I'm not sure there's wifi.
What I'm getting at here is don't expect a story on tuesday.
Or blog posts on the other days, for at least a week.

Apologies and a Consolation Prize

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Due to a debilitating and unforeseen throat in-phlegm-ation I will not be able to write the C.W.A of Dr. Zachary Smith today. 

  As a result, It won't be up tomorrow. 

 As a consolation prize, I present this family Reunion photograph that was hiding in the floorboards by the Uncle Ferdinand box:

-=Best Regards=-

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-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

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Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

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The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode #68: Dinner at the Smith's

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Last week as you recall, Dr. Smith had been tasked with the undesirable job of playing host at the feeding of what seemed to be hundreds of seven to nine year-old's. 

-=fig. 516: at the dinner table=-

Jeeves had scrounged up what he could, but the food supplies were mysteriously low.
This was odd, because the pantry seemed to go on forever.
 It's just that it was…empty. 
  Dr. Smith stood, knocking his chair over in the process.
"Attention." It wasn't the sort of weaselly 'attention's you get at say, town hall meetings, but more a…command.  But spoken without a commanding tone. As it turned out, it was quite effective.
  Cutlery clattered to the plates, some with food still attached.
Dr. Smith spoke;  
  "This is the last bit of food we have in the house.  With the City under siege, I don't know how easy it will be to acquire more.  There is always the tunnels, but I would rather not head back to the basement.  The streets are filled with the sort of men that had the house hostage, that is to say, Frenchmen, and there is no door on the roof, but I am willing to hear alternate modes of escape."   They all started talking at once. "Quiet!" Dr. Smith said, with an exclamation point, so that it was obvious that he was serious.  "One at a time.  Raise your hand."   Capt. Brown raised his hand, and, without waiting to be called on, continued. "What about that magical Door that can go anywhere?"
Dr. Smith had obviously thought of this, "Impossible to control, and it only works one way. Once you're there, you're there.  Next?"  A child raised his hand. "You seem smart, why not just invent something that kills all the bad guys and be done with it?"
  "The Closest thing I have ready is this bomb that uses atoms, it's effective, certainly, but it would kill us all.  Next."
     "We could fly out, there's no ceiling." 
       "There is, it's the ground wrapped around like a Möbius Strip.  Next."
   "Why not just use the back door?"
 Dr. Smith was about to dismiss this idea out of hand when he realized that it wasn't a half-bad idea.
  "What's your name, boy?"
    "Andrew, sir."

-=fig. 517: andrew=-

The boy was the Picture of Dr. Smith at that age, uncomfortable, quiet, and short.  He even had a little Bow-tie which no doubt never quite fit.
      "The sir is completely unwarranted."  Dr. Smith had taken a liking to the boy. 
"Alright, Sir."  Andrew said, glumly.  He was worried that he had offended Dr. Smith, somehow.   Rightly too, for Dr. Smith's default tone was that of irritation, not that Dr. Smith had noticed.
 Having just stolen Capt. Brown's food when he was distracted, Teresa had a question for Dr. Smith.  "Zacha–"  Dr. Smith interrupted her. "Dr. Smith"
   Teresa was confused.
  "He gets to call you by your name." She gestured at Capt. Brown.
   Dr. Smith replied. "He's my friend."
    Capt. Brown leaned toward Teresa conspiratorially, "He has a very defined sense of friend, I've known him almost his entire life, So I qualify.  Don't take it personally."
Teresa Shuddered to clear her head of the extreme sanity that was Dr. Smith's mind, and continued with her question. "Alright, regardless, my question is: Why can't we hear gunfire?"  She was of course referring to the bedlam that is main street Legopolis:

-=fig. 518: bedlam, with a side of mustard=-

"Because we're half a dimension away from anywhere.  I'm done eating." He hadn't touched his meal  "I'm going out, to see about more food. Goodbye."
 Teresa looked at Capt. Brown, "Is he always that brusque?"
  "Yes."

-=-

-=fig. 519: the back door=-

As much as Dr. Smith loved his house, he was glad to be out.
  He had never been good at…people.  Machines were better.
Machines didn't call you 'brusque' behind your back.
  The air was fresh, shame about the gunpowder smell.
From the other side of the house Dr. Smith could hear the traditional sounds of war, gunfire, screams of pain and…cheering?   There also seemed to be a man selling hot turkey legs and cups commemorating the big battle.
  Dr. Smith had to hand it to the street merchants of Legopolis, they were tenacious.
 Buying a hot turkey leg would put him too much in the open, although if bystanders were purchasing them how dangerous could it be?
    Then he re-thought that statement, in light of the screams.
     Besides, the grocery store was only a couple of blocks away.
Unfortunately, those couple of blocks were swarming with the worst sort of villains.
 Foreign Villains.
He would have to do it, secretly.

 

-=Best Regards=-

-=-=-=-=-=-

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

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