It was one of our better filks. More singing, less talking than usual. My first song was in honor of the current north Texas drought: White Man's Rain Chant. I passed out copies of the chorus so everyone can join in. We need it . . . Later on I asked for a performance of Banned From Argo, a song which is practically banned itself. I've heard it on CD but never live. That puts me ahead of tygerr, who'd been reduced to the filk equivalent of a Soviet dissident begging for copies of a famous samizdat. But I wanted to hear it sung, so we did. It was good. Having to do it at every circle for years on end would get old, I grant, but it's worth hearing once.
We did have some random chatter. A tale was told of David Brin at a con, following up his deconstruction of Star Wars by offering a revisionist take on the Aliens series. In his vision Newt lived, grew up, helped make peaceful first contact with the homeworld of the aliens, and became engaged to one. My comment:
"Man of acid, woman of base."
Much fun was had by all. Jerry seems to be a good addition, though I'm glad he stopped his off-topic digressions before I had to give a "I can get politics everywhere, but filk only here" speech. Next we have fencon, with imported pros and all night open filking, huzzah!