HSU IT Department

Arthur Greenleaf Holmes, the English Libertine Poet, delivers his scandalous verse and takes your live requests from the rectory at the Church of St. Thomas The Polygamist. Live on YouTube, tonight at 7pm EST.

Watch here.

Warning: With poem titles like "I built my love a menstrual hut" this show is not for the faint of heart or ear. (When he says "wildly inappropriate" he really means it.) But it is also clever, funny, elegant, highly literate, and shows off a delightfully quirky way with language. One of our absolute favorite performers at our local Ren Fest.

Edit: Here's his channel, if you want to see more/subscribe.

We have returned safely from our trek to Pennsylvania for the Blackmore's Night concert and the PA Ren Faire, huzzah!

By happy chance (so he says *ahem*) Mr Psmith picked a hotel for Friday that was across the street from not one, not two, but THREE Irish pubs!! So as a prelude to the evening's main event there was well-poured Guinness for Mr Psmith and a nice pinot grigio for me, and a bartender from Leitrim with a GORGEOUS accent (when we asked him how long he had been here, he said "T'ree weeks"). We then "garbed up" and, since the theatre was only two blocks from the hotel, paraded downtown in our Renaissance-y best, nodding regally at mystified passersby. The concert was very good; lots of fellow audience members also in garb, so it was a bit like going to see the 16th century version of Rocky Horror Picture Show, only with less toast and more shawm. Seeing Carl as the opening act on a big stage was great fun, and then Blackmore's Night played for 2-1/2 hours straight -- many old favorites and one or two we didn't know, and Candace's voice was as stunning live as it is on the CDs.

The next morning we had a two-hour drive to the Ren Fair but a luxurious hour to get dressed once we arrived (normally at our "home festival" we have about 20 minutes!). We looked splendid, if I do say so myself, particular Mr Psmith who is quite dashing in doublet, hat, boots and sword :) We strolled the grounds like visiting nobility all day and had quite the time, inspecting the baby dragons (i.e., anole lizards), watching the various minstrels, and eating anachronistic but tasty food items. The PA Faire is more "produced" than our home festival -- for example, all the performers are mic'ed and the joust had theatrical piped-in music that sounded like the soundtrack to Ben Hur! But once you get past the different character it's a fun change of pace. The Faire's theme this year was a fierce competition between Shakespeare and Marlowe, and the "Finale in Song" (which is what PA has instead of a final pubsing) had some very funny bits indeed where they got out of temper and ranted at each other, and the Queen was clearly channeling her Blackadder incarnation. Though as Mr Psmith said, the last number was much more Glee than Tudor. Still, worth the trip if only for the chance to see Empty Hats and trot out our black velvet one more time :)

Mr Psmith scored again with Saturday night's hotel which had an excellent restaurant complete with vegetarian menu (spinach, mushroom and goat cheese quesadillas with chipotle honey glaze -- nomz!!)

We slept in this morning, then headed out and were home by 5pm, well ahead of Hurricane Sandy which was all over the news of course. On the drive home NPR taught us things about Kurt Weil and the Threepenny Opera, and we passed a convoy of five utility trucks which we speculated were being mobilized ahead of the storm. Made me feel rather reassured; not that we're supposed to get more than high winds and an inch or so of rain at Chez Psmith, but still, it's nice to know that people are Planning Ahead. We're happy to be home, and I hope that all of you who are in Sandy's path weather the storm safely and with minimal damage!

Thank goodness for Wiccans, Renaissance Festivals, and the SCA, because otherwise all these people would be dead. Dies the Fire isn't a BAD book, it's just kind of...fluffy. Not that there aren't cannibals, rapists, gangs, and some detailed descriptions of death-by-broadsword, but everything happens just a leetle too conveniently. They need to escape from the city, and oh look! someone has a horse and wagon they use for Faire. They need supplies, and oh look! somebody in the group used to run an organic restaurant and has tons of supplies in the warehouse. (No mention of how they manage to get a baggage train laden with goods through a disintegrating city and out into the country.) They rescue a man and his wife from some White Power rednecks, and oh look! the man happens to be an experienced horse wrangler. They find a man trapped in a ravine, and oh look! he just happens to be a bowyer. As such, it has just the faintest tinge of wish-fulfillment on the part of the author.

A good summer read, but not the most complex piece of writing you'll ever encounter (or so I hope!). I doubt I'll be going on to the numerous sequels.