Nerdgasm: Spock, Bilbo and one mind-blowing LP

From the Two Sides of Leonard Nimoy LP. Insanity. Utter insanity.

TV: Sci-Fi network to become "Syfy" tomorrow ...

And after thinking about it, I've concluded it's a good move for the network.
Yeah, it's a PR grab, we get it. But that's not really a bad thing, is it?
Currently, the Sci-Fi network is commonly known for two things - Battlestar Galactica and B-rate monster flicks. And of the two, only one still stands. Hint: it's not Battlestar. And the misconception that the network airs nothing but crap (can't anyone remember their good shows? Taken, Mystery Science Theater, etc.) isn't really good for business.
Enter the "Syfy" brand. Billed as the hip, more-accessible side of science fiction, SyFy execs say the new station will now put more emphasis on well-written original programming filled with heavy doses of quirky humor.
Warehouse 13, a show about two Secret Service agents assigned to a fantastical factory in South Dakota, will be a perfect example of this, execs say. The series premiers tomorrow at 9/8c.
So let's hope there's something to this re-branding. With Caprica on the horizon and Stargate still running strong the network certainly has the tools to live up to their hipper billing.
Just one thing, don't cancel all the B-movies, guys. I need something to watch at 3 a.m. on Fridays.

What are your hopes for the new station?

VACATION: Be Back on Sunday ...

Hopefully you'll make it through the weekend without losing a hand to an errant M-80. Sparklers only, kids. Have a happy Fourth everyone.

Billy Mays: Discovery Channel Marathon

Did you know Discovery is running an all day marathon tribute to Billy Mays? No? Well they are. And you should be watching. Why? Because, it's Billy Mays, man.
The marathon culminates at 10 p.m. EST with the series finale of PITCHMEN. Be there. Wear blue.

Pitchmen co-host Anthony "Sully" Sullivan had the following to say:

There are no words to describe how I feel about the passing of my great friend and fellow Pitchman Billy Mays. I have a massive hole in my heart. My thoughts go out to his wife, Deborah, son Billy III, and his beautiful daughter, Elizabeth, his mom and dad and his whole family.

Billy and I have known each other for 15 years. We are the greatest of friends. He was the best at what he did -- his uncompromising style coupled with his black beard, blue shirt and khaki pants will be embedded in my memory for all time. His uniqueness created an industry that I am proud to be a part of. We were literally joined at the hip for the past six months.

Discovery Channel's "Pitchmen" was not only a wonderful experience, but also a great opportunity for Billy and I to let people into our world and see what an awesome guy he was in front of the cameras and show our friendship to the world.

There was a lot more to Billy as a person than Billy the Pitchman -- he was a loving, caring family man with the heart and roar of a lion. He loved what he did and loved his fans. The overwhelming outpouring of support shows what an amazing individual Billy was.

I'm proud to have had him as a friend. I'll miss him greatly and I'll miss hearing him saying, "Hi Billy Mays here... Here's how to order!"

RIP BILLY.

Billy Mays: "At the Office"

Today we take a look back at a classic Billy Mays viral, his trip to the office.
RIP BILLY.

Flash Fiction: Jane likes guitar

It had to be raining for Jane to play her guitar.
Otherwise, she'd say, it just didn't feel right.
It was a funny thing, her always playing in the rain. Especially since Jane would write some of the happiest songs you ever heard. Her fallbacks were major chords, upbeat and vibrant, and some of her best songs - "Valerye Man," "Garnished Pages" "Total" - all used them.
But don't get me wrong, Jane's songs were never simple. In fact, they were some of the most beautifully complex things I'd ever heard.
Jane played the guitar like a piano. The chords were always just a backing. And as she gently caressed the frets of her worn twelve-string her fingers always managed to pluck out some sort of melody. Sometimes you'd expect what she'd play. Sometimes you wouldn't. Sometimes it be light and slow and sometime the music would be so hard and fast it really did sound like rain. And Jane liked that.
She was a musical genius. But of course you've never heard of her. That's OK, don't feel bad. No one outside of King River has. But here she's something of a legend, that's for sure. Go ahread, say the name "Jane Simmons" down at the Coffee Bean and I gaurentee some latte-sipping music nerd will chime up with a story about how Jane almost scored that life-changing contract with Virgin Records for "Baby, Shake Your Band." Or about how she almost opened for Crosby Stills and Nash on their world tour of '83. Or how she almost joined Bob Dylan's backing band. Or how she almost ...

Tonight Jane took the stage without any fuss. Quiet and reserved, as always. Her twelve string sat next to a birch bench and she uttered not a word before flying into "Darker Coils," one of the Coffee Bean's crowd favorites.
Jane never spoke in between songs. She never spoke at all on stage, in fact. It was part of her persona. Disembodied.
And you never saw her face on stage either. Sure you'd see it when she walked out. Those glinting green eyes looking equally bored and thrilled as she walked out on the stage to thunderous applause. But after the music started, her face disappeared. Auburn hair cascaded wildly over all her features, wrapping itself around her head and neck and forming a makeshift mask. Jane on stage. Disembodied.
And playing some of the best damn stuff you ever heard.
"Garnished Pages." "Total." "Valerye Man." And she ended with what we always assumed was her favorite, since she always ended with it - "Nigel's Rain."
The piece started out slowly, ethereal melodies layered over tapped bass notes. She made it seem easy, but it was some of the toughest stuff she played all night. As the song picked up so did her fingers, flying wildly over all stretches of the fretboard and coaxing a universe of sounds. You got transfixed. You got transported. Her hands were mesmerizing and the music a thing of enchantment. The melodies flew and flew and by the end, it really did seem like it was raining. And maybe that was why Jane was so damn good. She had to simulate the beauty of nature to play. She had to make it rain.
How else could she play?

Billy Mays: Trip to McDonalds

This week Morning remembers the late, great Billy Mays. Billy died Sunday at his Tampa home. He was 50.
I'll post funny clips and interviews all week long. Feel free to leave suggestions and links in the comments.

Books: 2009 Locus Award Winners

Here are the 2009 Locus Award winners for best science fiction/related books published in 2008. (On a related note, these lists make for a great starting point if you're new to the genre.)

• Science Fiction Novel: Anathem, Neal Stephenson (Atlantic UK, Morrow)

• Fantasy Novel: Lavinia, Ursula K. Le Guin (Harcourt)

• First Novel: Singularity's Ring, Paul Melko (Tor)

• Young-Adult Book: The Graveyard Book, Neil Gaiman (HarperCollins, Bloomsbury)

• Novella: "Pretty Monsters", Kelly Link (Pretty Monsters)

• Novelette: "Pump Six", Paolo Bacigalupi (Pump Six and Other Stories)

• Short Story: "Exhalation", Ted Chiang (Eclipse Two)

• Anthology: The Year's Best Science Fiction: Twenty-Fifth Annual Collection, Gardner Dozois, ed. (St. Martin's)

• Collection: Pump Six and Other Stories, Paolo Bacigalupi (Night Shade Books)

• Non-Fiction/Art Book: P. Craig Russell, Coraline: The Graphic Novel, Neil Gaiman, adapted and illustrated by P. Craig Russell (HarperCollins)

• Editor: Ellen Datlow

• Artist: Michael Whelan

• Magazine: F&SF

• Publisher: Tor

Flash Fiction: Shady Brook

I'm getting a little self-conscious about posting all this writing on here, but hey, a promise is a promise. If nothing else, this flash fiction experiment is teaching me the value of free writing.
I just hope the stories (which are all unplanned at the beginning, by the way) are at least comprehensible. Anyway, enough bickering. Here's today's entry. Enjoy!

The two boys crept through the dense thicket of ferns, paused for a moment and let their arrow fly.

“Whop! A direct hit! Nice shot Marcus!”

Marcus adjusted the crow feather he’d found earlier and plunked into his ear to block out the sun.

“Thanks Nick. I wonder what we hit. Let’s go check it, huh?”

Nick nodded enthusiastically and the pair pushed their way through the ferns. The forest was thick, but their prey had fallen in an easy clearing. As the boys stepped into it they were surrounded by rays of golden sunlight, piercing down in near-parallel rays from above the high tree canopy. It was noon, or thereabouts.

The pair scanned the ground and their eyes fell to the struggling form pinned to the side of a tree by a vicious looking arrow. The legs were still kicking and a small pool of crimson blood was forming underneath.

“A rabbit! Whop! Right through the heart, I’d say. You hit a rabbit Marcus! Nice shot!”

“Thanks. Makes me feel like one of them folks Father’s been talking to. They shoot the rabbits, you know. Use every part of them too. The fur for gloves and the legs for meat. Probably even find some use for the bones and teeth, but I don’t know.”

“What do you think Father will say when he sees it?”

“I don’t know. It’s supper at least. That will make him happy.”

While the boys were talking the rabbit stopped its struggle. The pool of crimson had filled out nicely. Nick reached for the rabbit, picked it up and plucked the arrow out from the creature’s still heart. A squirt of blood shot onto Marcus’ face and he smeared it into three slashes, pantomiming a native dance he’d observed back at the Indian’s camp one night.

Whop! Whop! He screamed.

“Come out of it now, Nick. We need to get back to camp.”

The boys began their march back through the fern bush, carefully navigating around a cluster of rocks before hopping on the old log and crossing over the Shady Brook stream.

“Father says this place wasn’t always called Shady Brook,” Marcus said. “He says it used to have another name. Its true name before the White Man came and changed it. What do you think of that?”

“What do I think of what?”

“Of the name. Of us changing it. Do you think it changes things any?”

Nick’s eyes crunched up, squeezing the blood war paint into a frightening pattern of intricate lines dancing on his cheeks. He seemed to be thinking. “I don’t know, it does, I suppose. But things always change. That’s the way. Just look at what Father’s doing, he’s trying to change the Indians, isn’t he? Give them religion? Who says they want it?”

The boys walked back in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

It was near dusk by the time they reached the camp. Father was sitting with one of the Indians when the boys walked into the camp, the rabbit proudly slung over Nick’s bloodied shoulders.

“Father! Father!” Nick exclaimed. “Look what we killed out there today! All by ourselves! Can we cook it?”

The conversation with the Indian broke of and the boys’s father made his way over to the two youngsters.

Nick thought he noticed a flicker of momentary disgust pass over the Indian’s eyes before he turned his head to the ground and walked quietly back toward the burning fire at the center of the camp.

Nick’s Father knelt down in front of the boy and sternly asked, “Why did you bring this here?”

Puzzled, Nick answered “We brought it for you.”

“Well, I don’t want it. Can’t you see you’ve insulted Chakotay? I’m surprised he didn’t walk over here and tell you off himself. It’s not good what you are doing, bringing a dead animal in here and asking if we can cook it when there’s already plenty of food.”

Marcus, feeling pity for his brother chimed in. “We thought you’d be proud of us. You always say a man needs to make it for himself. He needs to stand on his own two feet and get his own food.”

“That might be true, but not here. Can’t you boys see? These here Indians, they see us as takers. Takers who consume all that’s around them. We’re like blight to them. That’s why they need religion. That’s why they need us here. We’re not takers, but we’ve got to show them that. Now get rid of that rabbit Nick. And for the love of God, loose the war paint and the feather!”

Confused, the boys scampered off into the woods, depositing the rabbit into Shady Brook.

“I just don’t get it,” Nick said, after a long silence.

“Get what?”

“How we’re the takers.”

Marcus couldn’t answer. “Come on, let’s go back and ask Chakotay what they used to call Shady Brook. I think he’d like that.”

GOODNIGHT SWEET PRINCE: Billy Mays Found Dead at 50

Mays was found dead in his Tampa, Fla. home this morning.
For more info check @YoungBillyMays and FoxNews.
Billy's Twitter says he was involved in a bumpy landing on a U.S. Airways flight on Saturday. Authorities are investigating whether the crash and Billy's death are related. He was scheduled for hip surgery tomorrow.

***UPDATED Monday, June 29 4:28 P.M.***
The Hillsborough County medical examiner Dr. Vernard Adams said Monday that Mays had heart disease.

Mays' wife, Deborah Mays, released this statement Monday: "While it provides some closure to learn that heart disease took Billy from us, it certainly doesn't ease the enormous void that his death has created in our lives."

RIP Billy, Pitchmen was one of my favorite shows this summer.