
Mural by the talented street artist Nychos

Mural by the talented street artist Nychos

The pyramidal, futuristic skyscraper originally known as John Hancock tower. The radio antennae give it the appearance of a testy bull, entirely appropriate for this city.
I’ve always thought Chicago had a special ring to it. It’s both soft, and hard, and rolls easily off the tongue (as I also noted for the name Christopher.) It improves any other word it’s paired with. The Chicago Cubs. Chicago pizza. Chicago Transit Authority. It’s the subject of a famous poem that is famously misquoted:
Hog Butcher for the World,
Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat,
Player with Railroads and the Nation’s Freight Handler;
Stormy, husky, brawling…
(It’s Hog Butcher for the World, not the Nation)
The name itself is derived from a Native American word for a type of wild onion, shikaakwa. Chicago also has nicknames like The Windy City, Chi-Town, and Second City (as in the Second City comedy troupe) but to my mind it doesn’t really need them. Chicago is enough.
Need a name that’s like Chicago, without being Chicago? Here are some choices.
| Chalinago
Tricago Chandrisogo Checaza Chalcotho Shumeto Chussano Chrisotho Caboncho Davano Shobeldo |
Candellego
Nicabo Sjallinago Rhecava Chansaya Mimelko Chumigo Chicadi Shansado Vicago Chansano |

Her Cold Embrace, by Michael Macrae
Tales of knights in shining armor don’t always end happily.

Cuppa angst, anyone?
The inhabitants of Seattle drink more coffee than in any other American city, and we also boast more independent coffee houses than other American city. The trend began when Starbucks opened its first store in Pike Place Market in 1971, and really began to take off in the late 1980s and early 1990s. As a person I was more into tea than coffee when I first moved here, but that all changed when I chose an espresso machine as a Boeing employee commendation gift, and I’ve never looked back.
My personal favorites over the years include the Meowtropolitan Cafe, where one can drink and spend time with adult cats in a kitty wonderland jungle gym, and Sip and Ship where you can drink and mail packages at the same time. I was also fond of Ventoux Coffee, which had a pop-up trailer near a local secondhand store specializing in 1960s Scandinavian household furnishings whose owner taught my dog to dance for snacks. The Couth Buzzard used bookstore on Greenwood boasts a coffee bar in addition to books and a community jam space. Alas, Espresso Dental further down the arterial doesn’t offer coffee anymore, just tooth whitening services, which perhaps is sorely needed.
Do you need a name for a coffee shop where your characters like to hang out… as in Friends‘ Central Perk? Here are a randomgenned few.
| The Brew Zoo
Hoppin’ Mocha Coffee Shark Café Retro Mosh to Midnight Grindhouse Kitten Java Sisters Cup Town Grounds for Buzz Mocha-Lux Roastopia Perky Express Parlor Espresso Bean Alert |
Island Buzz
Coffee Dutchman Coffee Dragon Shambala Bean The Good Morning Bus Retro Roast Espresso Plantation The Xtreme Bean Mugville Java Bird Coffee Jock Eden Roast The Double Shot Room Village Brew |

I’m not rolling on the floor with laughter. Neither is the dog.

by Brian K. Vaughan , Fiona Staples Image Comics, 2012
The Saga saga seems to be a graphic novel favorite among readers who don’t ordinarily read graphic novels. The buzz on it has been very good since the series began, and the Goodreads and Amazon ratings high. It was even recommended to me, and friends don’t usually do that.
So I read Volume 1 and…ehhh…
I admit the story moves, the artwork is good, the characters are diverse and rounded; they are not clichés. The themes are adult, dealing with moral ambiguity, parenthood, sex, and love. There’s no juvenilia; the sex scenes are frank. There’s a sly, snarky sense of humor.
So why didn’t I like it?
Because none of it made any friggin’ sense.
Saga is set in a sort of space opera universe as depicted on the covers of 1930s and 1940s pulp magazines. Robots, magic, mythological creatures, and spaceships all co-exist. As in Star Wars, this galaxy is long ago and far away. There’s an intergalactic war going on which is never explained, as in who is fighting for what and why. One side utilizes winged humans as mercenaries, and they wield firearms and ray guns. The other uses horned humanoids, and they use swords and magic. Graphically, this is intriguing, as in the “Wings” have insect, bat, bird, etc. wings, and the “horns” sheep, gazelle, bull, and unicorn horns. All are different, and individuals. (Which, if they are actual species, doesn’t make sense, but none of this really makes sense.) The trouble begins when a Wing woman and a Horn man have an affair, then desert their platoons and run away together with their newly born daughter, causing consternation on both sides.
Why this miscegenation is so alarming is never explained. I can guess it’s because *gasp!* having both wings and horns, the child is destined to become this universe’s equivalent of Satan, or whatever.
So, the Horns hire a bounty hunter known as The Will to bring the couple back, while the Wings ask a character called Prince Robot to do the same. Prince Robot is from a planet of robots who all have video camera heads, but human bodies… they even have sex, doggy-style being a preferred position. Again, this is not explained. Nor is this monarch’s name. Are all the royal family called Robot? What about the plebian robots? It’s like having a human king named Mr. Human or Mr. Man. Do robots nurse their young? If not, why does the female robot have breasts?
Anyway, Prince Robot goes on the hunt for the deserters, and he’s really not a bad sort. But he runs into a bounty huntress called The Stalk who’s also after the runaway couple. She has the form of an enormous spider at least 8 feet in radius, topped by the armless torso of a multi-eyed goth chick.

“I know a thing or two about this game.”
The character is supremely creepy when encountered at the turn of the page, and of course the reader’s reaction is negative. But then, it turns out The Stalk is the sometime girlfriend of The Will, both belonging to the Bounty Hunter brotherhood, or something, and when Prince Robot shoots her, The Will is pissed. He vows revenge on the Prince, who is appealingly clueless… sort of like French comedian Jacques Tati as Monsieur Hurlot. But despite his being one of the “bad guys” The Will has more of a moral compass than you’d think. When he visits an interstellar brothel, he’s offered a ten-year-old girl to torture and rape. Disgusted, he shoots the brothel’s owner and takes the girl away so she can have her freedom.
This kind of moral complexity… along with the WTF’edness of the universe, and the clever writing… is what kept me reading, just to see how it would all turn out. But, it was all a bit too silly for me. The dialogue at times was too self-consciously hip and sitcom-like, as in one exchange where the couple, being alone and frightened, play a truth-or-dare game with each other, and the woman says “I enjoy the taste of my own breast milk” in response to some question. It was so out there it was almost a parody of itself, like something you’d see in Heavy Metal magazine mocking the psychedelic, boob-heavy stories that appeared earlier in that magazine’s publishing history.
At the end of Volume 1, when the couple find a forest of rocket trees (yes, rocket ships, fully furnished, that grow like trees) and blast off to safety, I said “Hmm, that’s what all the buzz is about” and closed the book.
But, if anyone else wants to check it out, go ahead. Maybe what bothered me about it wouldn’t bother you.

by Richard Adams
Avon Books, March 1998
[Challenge # 39: A book with a non-human (animal or fantastic creature) main character]
I don’t think any talking-animal story has ever come close to what Richard Adams accomplished with Watership Down, an epic tale of rabbits who flee their doomed warren. It had the perfect mix of myth, adventure, naturalism, and irony… irony in that world-changing or mysterious events in the rabbits’ world are actually mundane ones for human beings. An escaped dog decides the outcome of a war. A punt on a stream is alien technology, and a freight train a rampaging Godzilla. Adams’ rabbits handle these elements with a very British matter-of-factness, as if they were fighting in the trenches of Verdun.
But they are not without humor and charm, especially in their tales of El-Ahrairah, a rabbit trickster deity who supports his people with smarts and sass. This rabbit, or lapine as Adams puts it, mythology is a good part of why the book has become and remains a classic. Not only that, the world they inhabit is itself a mythology, a rural English countryside without motorways, radios, air traffic, or tourists, where cows are milked by hand and children never watch TV. Cars, trains, and electrical pylons make appearances, but that’s it. It’s a mythic twist within a twist.
I first read Watership Down at the age of 13 and enjoyed it immensely. It’s one of those books that are a perfect bridge for young teens into more adult reading. I even remember how I got it: from a bookstore in Philadelphia, on a day trip there with my widowed mother, who had pulled me out of school to enjoy the autumn weather. And like many other budding writers, I created my own language from the lapine glossary that Adams provided at the end of the book, a language that ranks as a conlang classic. (Adams utilized “soft sounds” like th, f, and hr and short verbs to create something that rabbits might speak, if they could.)
For the “talking animal” selection of this year’s Author Water Cooler challenge I chose Tales from Watership Down, billed as a sequel even though it’s more of a coda/appendix. Half was more rabbit mythology tales, and half short stories of what happened in the new Watership Down warren after the defeat of General Woundwart. I don’t think any of this could have been read on its own; one would have to have read and enjoyed the previous book. The stories are a lot like the multiple appendixes J. R. R. Tolkien provided after the “official” ending of Return of the King (“Well, I’m back,” he said.) Material that enhances what you just read, but is not really necessary.
That said, I did enjoy my re-visit with Hazel, Bigwig, Fiver, and their companions. The further history of the warren unfolded logically in a series of small events that added more to the world, teasing us almost of what might have been if the author decided to create a series. If there was a theme to it, it was the importance of even-handed, inclusive, yet decisive, leadership. Adams even managed to right some wrongs in the original story, in that the female rabbits received more of a voice, and he hints that the does are in fact responsible for cultural transmission in rabbit society. It’s an intriguing idea of a free-floating stream of ESP that acts as a collective unconscious, in the Jungian sense, for the rabbits. It nicely explains how distant warrens can have the same language and societies, though I am not sure the author intended it as such.
Thumbs-up for readers who have the original book.

La danse de Salomé, by Gaston Bussière, 1914
(See my post on Savage Queens here)
I still can’t get enough of Salome and her yen for peacock feathers.
There were other powerful women in the Good Book, some judged as “wicked” by past moralizers: Jezebel, Delilah, Herodias. Others acted just as strongly, but because they weren’t pagans, were forgiven, like Deborah and Judith. Judith in particular has inspired as many depictions as Salome has.
Want to start writing some apocrypha, such as the Gospel of Mary? Here’s a list of names to populate those stories with.
| Zirah
Tiphiel Shudirbah Ganomi Delmariah Asheba Thulsheba Shaanitha Zonupha Gophosa Huthassah Desiriam Omimah |
Thessadiah
Ajith Gethsheeba Tosabra Labritha Gimethjabel Rimiah Hednia Shorjiel Noliphica Tethareeva Zeneshah Tajuna |