Things have been quiet here at Restaurant Fuel central lately, because I haven’t had much time to blog in the midst of everything else. Work has been supernaturally busy, and I’ve been struggling to get my application packet together for that creative writing program I’ve been blogging about (but am beginning to doubt whether it’s what I really want to do).

Also, Tina needs me to do the DC Craft Mutiny website, and the twins are — as always — a major focus of time and energy.

I’m sure I’ll be blogging regularly again in a few days. But for now, an apology.

Is there any wonder that Keith Olbermann is becoming one of the most popular figures in cable news? After a decade of right wing dominance, there is finally a courageous voice on mainstream cable television who represents staunch opposition to the right wing ideologues who otherwise dominate the airwaves.

Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert hide the truth behind comedy. Olbermann just presents the plain truth.

Ladies and gentleman, I present Mr. Keith Olbermann:

I remember sitting in my old director’s office, discussing the year’s communications strategy, when one of our program’s Fellows came into the room to tell us that the Twin Towers were on fire. Everyone in the office sat together in the kitchen, watching the first few hours of 9/11/01 on the ceiling-mounted television. Then work closed, and I stepped outside to meet Tina, the streets of Washington, D.C. clogged with cars.

The rest is a blur. I nearly got into a fist fight with a guy in Steed Park over my dog. Gay men gathered on 17th Street restaurant patios, sobbing. The city of Washington was quiet, despite so many people wandering around outside. And it was so crisp and clear, so beautiful. A fine day, really. Except for the unending news reports and that faint plume of smoke off in the direction of Arlington.

There are other images — television images — that come to mind. Bush with a bull horn at Ground Zero. Calls for unity, not just from around the country, but also from around the world. An overwhelming call for war against those who did us harm, a call that was heeded, but not fulfilled in the way we’d all hoped.

How things have changed since then. Who would have thought that five years later, America’s unprecedented national unity would be torn apart by the Republican administration that sought to use the largely blue-state tragedy of 9/11 to consolidate and make permanent its hold on all three branches of government. That Democrats who tried to have a say in the decisions of the post-9/11 response would be silenced, demonized, marginalized. That even a moderate like me, someone who has never identified with the “bleeding heart” liberals of the world, has taken the mantle of “liberal” for better or worse, because of things the President and his allies have said about Democrats on television.

Things could have gone so much differently. But to me, 9/11 is the day the dream ended, the day America was transformed from a free society into something I barely recognize. Fear guides so much of our government’s public policy that it’s hard to believe that just six years ago people still cared about Bill Clinton, Monica Lewinsky and her stained blue dress. That a President lying about a sexual encounter was ever thought to be a threat to the nation’s security. How naive we were then. How naive we all still are.

I first played Medal of Honor for the original Playstation back in 1999 — at the time, shooting Nazis was a refreshing change of pace from the usual alien hordes that dominated first person shooters. But nearly seven years later, I’m sorry to say the WWII genre has gotten a little stale, as evidenced from this gameplay video from Call of Duty 3:

Hey look, we’re in a bombed out French village again! Oh no, better take cover in that building! Luckily there’s a big hole in the wall from which I can conveniently shoot Nazis that have dug into that building across the street! Isn’t it swell how American artillery opens up holes in just the right places? Wow, isn’t the HDR lighting cool and innovative — why it’s like a whole new Normandy campaign here — let’s just milk a few more million bucks out of this franchise …

The best show on television, genre or otherwise, is back. Well, sort of. SciFi has launched a new series of “webisodes” that bridge the gap between the season two finale and the season three premiere. I’ve already seen the first one, and I am happy to report that it feels exactly like the regular show, right down to the music and the writing. This isn’t the usual “let’s throw some characters we’ve never seen before and shoot on MiniDV” kind of thing — it’s got real cast members (Tigh, Tyrol, Cally), some background players and some interesting revelations about what life is like on New Caprica under Cylon occupation.

A good comparison would be the Star Wars: Clone Wars shorts that came out between Episode II and III, except that this is live action and uses the real actors. I can’t wait to see the whole project collected on DVD — I have a feeling it’s going to end up like a Season Three Episode 0 when all is said and done. It looks like there will be about the same amount of content as in a full episode of the series.

SciFi is pushing it so much, that they’ve made the first webisode their homepage. Check it out.

Some readers may remember that last year, Restaurant Fuel.com looked a lot different than it does now. This is because the site was running on the PostNuke content management system, and like many PN sites, we got hacked. I hastily threw up an MT site, always intending to redo the template to make it look like the old version of the site. I’m happy to say, that I’m in the process of doing just that — soon enough, Restaurant Fuel will return to its old look and feel, but updated a bit to reflect changes in the tone and focus of the blog.

The second thing to bring up is that back in the late 1990’s Restaurant Fuel was a print ‘zine, created by myself and my wife, Tina Henry-Barrus (aka Tina Seamonster). Although the ‘zine went defunct in 1999, it was always my hope to return to print publishing in some shape or form. This is about to happen, as it’s my plan to resurrect Restaurant Fuel as a small press publishing label. My plan is to produce an anthology, as well as chapbooks to be printed in limited edition print runs. My comic book, The Alberic Heresies, will also likely fall under the Restaurant Fuel imprint. The idea is to follow the indie rock model — great cover art and design, varying formats, and an approach that treats short stories like seven-inch singles.

Keep in mind, this is not going to be a big publishing operation with a huge financial investment. This is going to be micro publishing, mostly on demand, but I’m going to be taking what I learned creating a ‘zine and running a small indie record label and hopefully put a new spin on this. We’ll see how it goes.

Although Restaurant Fuel will remain my personal blog, it will also be the main source of information about the new publishing label. If you visit Tina’s site, I think you’ll see the model I’m shooting for.

So that’s it for now. I’ll have more updates about the new Restaurant Fuel as things progress.

Yesterday, I woke up with that feeling I used to get in the fall. I knew somehow that things were about to change, but wasn’t quite sure how. The air was crisp and cool, as if summer had died of a sudden heart attack, and the sky was smeared grey from the impending hurricane, or tropical depression, or whatever the meteorologists will ultimately decide it is. It was not unlike a late August day back in 1992, when my parents loaded up the station wagon and drove me to the University of Maryland to start college. Less than a year later, I was driving the family car between home and school, and cancer killed my father.

Today is Tina’s first day at home with the girls — daycare is done, and we walked out of the center last night with a twinge of sadness. The girls spent much of their first year of life in that building, with the teachers and other kids. Now they will likely never return. Although it’s exciting that they’re staying home, it’s hard not to mourn the relationships they’re leaving behind. I will miss the sense of community I shared with the other parents, and watching the girls interact with their peers.

That’s one change, and it’s a big one. But there are others to come this fall — parenthood isn’t a constant state so much as a surfboard riding huge waves of growth and development. Every day, watching the girls leap forward, I am more keenly aware of the shortness of life, the importance of each tiny moment. In as much time as I’ve been living outside my mother’s home, my girls will grow old enough to drive a car. It seems like just a few years ago that I went off to school, but in reality it’s been a large number of years. So short, so long.

Being a parent makes me think of mortality a lot. And I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it’s my own mortality that obsesses me.

Another big change - this morning my friends Michael and Edie at long last adopted a child. It would be wrong of me to divluge the details of their lives to some 3,000 monthly unique visitors, but I will say that there are no two people on planet earth who deserve to be parents more than them.

Okay, back to more productive activities.