Jazz and Anime

I watched the Best Sessions of Cowboy Bebop last night. They were really good and I may have to pick up the DVD some day when I have disposable income.

But two of the episodes in particular hit me. One, where this old mechanic guy is repairing and renovating a Space Shuttle to get it to fly again. The Columbia. It was written years ago, so there's no way they could have known. But still. When it rolled out of the hangar and I saw the name, I got a little choked up.

And the other wasn't so much the episode itself, but the song that they played. Which made me sad for reasons that shall remain private.

Another side effect of retail

Talking last night with some co-workers while we were closing, I realized that come Christmastime, pretty much all my enjoyment of Christmas songs is going to be utterly destroyed by playing them over and over and over and over on in-store play for probably two months. Bah, humbug!

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Please tell me this is a parody. Please.

I really don't want to live in a world with Hummer brand laptops for your Hummer lifestyle.

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Death in High Places (17/??)

I was going about this wrong. Sure, I could walk all over the city and browbeat anybody who had a reason to want Justice out of the way. But unless I got lucky, that wouldn't get me any closer to figuring things out.

Besides, once Nomos decided this was something that mattered, that's what he'd do. And if I couldn't think of any better ideas than Nomos, I might as well quit. So, clues. The Scales. Nomos had probably pulled all of the crowd in for questioning. He's not stupid, but without Justice, he didn't have any sense of proportion.

Death in High Places (18/??)

The real question wasn't who, not yet. That would come later. Once I figured out why, and how, then I'd have the who. How? She was stabbed. By what? There's any number of things in the sharp, pointy, and stabby categories. Nomos had her body and the resources to figure that out. Whatever it was, it wasn't at the scene. So the murder had taken it with them, or thrown it away somewhere.

One blow. From the front. Either Justice had known her murderer, or she'd been helpless. I needed more to go on. Neither one made much of sense.