Thursday, December 28, 2006

Who Will Win Marvel's Civil War?

I don't read much Marvel. When it comes to Civil War, I only get the main series. (Although I really wanted the one with Howard the Duck. My LCS only bought a few and they sold out that Wednesday. Ah, well.) So, all my opinions here are based on what I've read in those five issues, the stuff often found at Newsarama, and my view, ignorant though it may be, of the Marvel universe. So, here I go:

Let's face it, Captain America's side will win.


Let's start with the obvious:

He's Captain Fucking America.

He's Marvel's representation of the American ideal. He represents, or at least tries to represent, all that is good about the USA. He fights for freedom and justice. He supports honesty and strong morals. He believes in the ideals on which America is based. And he probably bakes a spectacular apple pie. In other words, Captain America is what we (or at least I) want the USA to stand for in the world.

If Captain America's team loses, then it'll be like Marvel telling us that the ideals of America have failed, too. Sure, he'll probably keep trying to fight, but Captain America a fugitive from the country that made him that he took his name from, and a long term terrorist against that country just can't work.

If his team loses, what are the story possibilities for all the characters who joined him? They all become outsiders hounded by the law? They all move to France to sip wine with the Thing and gripe about how America was better once upon a time? They all go underground and their books get cancelled? They all get arrested and "rehabilitated" by Iron Man? They move to Latveria and join Dr. Doom in his constant quest for revenge against that fool, Richards?

It seems to me that if Marvel has the pro-registration side win, half of their heroes will become criminals and that will make for a boring line of comics.

When Captain America wins, though, his group can go back to being superheroes sort of like before, and Iron Man's side can continue being government lackeys, or whatever you want to call them.

Just because, after Civil War ends, the government won't be drafting all the superhumans, doesn't mean that they'll close down the programs they created. Why would they? They already have a, probably, large number of people registered and trained, why would they want to let them out just because Congress decided to repeal the Superhuman Registration Act? That would be like dismantling the armed services just because there's no draft, stupid.

In the newest Wizard, Dan Slott talked about something called The Initiative and suggested that this is where the registered heroes, who wanted to stick with the government, will be. Once the new Thunderbolts break out of their collars, the government's going to need someone to track down all the murdering psychopaths they allowed Iron Man and Mr. Fantastic to use.

Having the anti-registration side win won't limit story possibilities like having the pro-registration side win.

If the anti side wins traditional superhero with secret identities stories can be told. Stories about the government training a next generation of super powered people can be told. There can be a book about a government task force of superhumans who police the activities of those who aren't registered. And the few mutants can die in peace.

One Thing...

One thing that I really like living by myself is that I know, most probably, that any pubes found on the soap in the shower are mine. I can't say the same thing at my parent's house.

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Friday, December 22, 2006

That Monkey's Gone to Heaven

Just found out that we get to leave today at three! And those of us who were planning on staying until five don't have to use any vacation time! HAHAHAHAHAH!

And since, because of this small change in fortunes, I find myself in a good mood, I'd like to put a quote one of my favorite Allan Sherman songs, "One Hippopotomi":
One hippopotami cannot get on a bus,
Because one hippopotami is two hippopotamus.
And if you have two goose, that makes one geese.
A pair of mouse is mice. A pair of moose is meese.
A paranoia is a bunch of mental blocks.
And when Ben Casey meets Kildaire, that's called a paradox.
When two minks fall in love, with all their heart and soul,
You'll find the plural of two minks is one mink stole.
Singulars and plurals are so different, bless my soul.
Has it ever occurred to you that the plural of "half" is "whole"?
A bunch of tooth is teeth. A group of foot is feet.
And two canaries make a pair--they call it a parakeet.
A paramecium is not a pair.
A parallelogram is just a crazy square.
Nobody knows just what a paraphernalia is.
And what is half a pair of scissors, but a single sciz?
With someone you adore, if you should find romance,
You'll pant, and pant once more, and that's a pair of pants!
Thanks you and have a really nice weekend.

Thursday, December 21, 2006

Ultimate X-Men

Originally, I was just going to write about issue 77, but as I sat thinking about the issue, I realized that my problems with this issue are endemic to the whole series since Millar left way back when.

The biggest problem is that since he left the longest time a writer has been on the book was Vaughan for twenty issues, so there hasn't been a long, consistent voice on the book for a while. (This has been an even bigger problem with Ultimate Fantastic Four, and many comics out there as a whole.) A long term, consistent voice can once again add to the characterizations of the team. Every time a new writer comes onto the series they pick certain bits out of the last one's run and drastically change others.

One of the things that I really liked about Millar's run was that the book wasn't just about the X-Men, but it was about the place of mutants in the world. Millar never forgot that the X-Men and Magneto's Brotherhood of Mutants were how the world saw all mutants. He showed them being violent. Even the good ones, the ones, supposedly, trying to promote understand between the two species, were out there smashing property and getting people killed. Who, in the eyes of the public, are the heroes? Millar also showed explored the mob mentality of the scared normal people through out the Sentinel and the public's reaction to learning that Magneto wasn't dead.

There were big ideas about the world and about the different people who live there in Millar's run along with some great characterization.

Then came Bendis and what should have been an Ultimate Wolverine mini, rather than a run in this book. Bendis took away the focus on the big ideas and wanted to focus on the characters during his ten issue (I think) run. That's a decent goal, but after him, the larger world was forgotten. What happened to the regular humans? Where were they? What happened to the consequences of the fighting? Gone, to the best of my recollection.

For me, Vaughan's run had the highest point since Millar with the Longshot story because it showed, as opposed to just telling me, that normal humans hate mutants. Still he seemed to want to focus on the people on the team rather than the team’s purpose in the world.

And now there's Kirkman and I'm still not sure about his stuff on this book. It's been merely okay. Nothing's wowed me. The "Phoenix?" storyline just sort of petered out. Who are right? Lilandra's people of the Hellfire club? I still don't know. I hope it get's better soon because I don't know how much longer I want to hold on to lackluster just because I used to like this book.

Not About Next Monday, I Promise

The last several days, it's been cold, for here, in the mornings. I think 25 was the coldest it got, which isn't too bad. You can still use water to defrost your windshields at that temperature, at least you can when it warms up to the fifties during the day.

Yesterday, as I was pulling some stuff off the gigantic and old dot-matrix printer when The Supervisor asked me, "Was it warmer out there today?"

To me, the difference between 24 degrees and 28 degrees is pretty indistinguishable. "Not that I could tell," I said.

"Yeah, I guess," she said.

I said, "Uh-huh." and went back to fiddling with the printer.

"I sorry," she said.

I looked over at her, furrowed my brow, and said, "About what?"

"That you have to walk in this weather."

"I don't have to walk in this," I said. "I choose to walk to work. I have a car."

She gave me this long look at me and seemed like she wanted to ask me something, but she didn't. I went back to work on the printer.

"I guess," she said, frowning, "that you save money by not driving."


"You save money."

"Yeah," I said. "I guess."

"Good," she said and turned away from me.

I went back to my desk and I'm still confused about the whole conversation.

Lyrics for Today

It's Not My Birthday from They Might Be Giants just seems right.

Especially the first two stanzas, or verses, or whatever.

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

More Christmas Bile

I don't hate Christmas. I really don't. I like seeing my family. I like watching people open gifts. I like the food, even if the turkey gives me a headache and the mashed potatoes are from a box. On Christmas day, I have a good time.

Leading up to Christmas, though, I'm sort of a Grinch or a Scrooge or some other grouchy character associated with Christmas.

When I was little, decorating the house was a family affair, sort of. It was my mom, my brothers, and me, my dad was usually off doing his own thing, on an afternoon, after school, after Thanksgiving. We'd bring the boxes of stuff up and staple or tape pictures of Santa and Frosty and snowflakes up on walls. (We had this great one of Santa's sleigh that had the reindeer connected to the sleigh and each other by yarn so you could decide how they were flying.) We'd clear a spot on a shelf to put up a great carved, but small, nativity scene. (I had no idea what the nativity scene was until I was in junior high. I only knew it was in the Christmas stuff.) We'd hang up an advent calendar that was made out of felt and had a tree on it and then twenty-five different things with a bit of velcro on them that could be removed from the day and then placed on the tree. The actual tree usually didn't come for another week or so and then all of us would decorate it together. I can only remember one year when we had lights on the outside. My mom put the up. I remember helping to take them down, though.

Sixth grade, I think, I started bringing the boxes of decorations up and harassing my brothers and mother into helping decorate the house. At this time, I also took some lights to string up around my window so something could be seen outside to show we were celebrating Christmas.

In high school, I stopped harassing people and started just hanging the stuff up myself, when other saw me doing it they'd pitch in. By then it was a week or two after Thanksgiving had passed. Some of the decorations that had once decorated the walls for everyone had found their way onto the walls in my room. One year, when no one else was home, I tried to hang lights and fell off the ladder. I decided, after that, not to bother.

My first year of college when I came back, just a few days before Christmas, the walls were bare and the tree was sitting in a bucket on the back deck. The next day I brought the boxes up and started decorating again. The tree was brought in and the whole family decorated it.

The next two years, I was living with my family, again and I fell back into the high school habits, except I didn't bring up the wall decorations and I didn't put lights up in my window. I didn't see any point. And this time I had to harass people to get them to help with the tree.

The next two years I was away at college again, when I got back, nothing was set up and there was no tree. (The first of these two Christmases I used MS Paint to draw a tree, which I printed and taped under the TV and then placed my gifts to the family under it. The next year, I didn't.) When the tree was finally bought, it sat for a few days. Eventually, I dragged up the tree decorations. Everything sat for a day. I put lights on the tree and asked people to help me. They said they'd help that night. I waited. No one wanted to help that night. The next afternoon, I just started decorating. I got most of the way done when one of my brothers noticed what I was doing and asked why I didn't ask him to help and then he grabbed everyone else and we all finished the tree.

Things went on like that and then I was living with my parents, again, I said fuck it. I didn't do anything and I wasn't going to do anything. I thought about it, a lot. I felt bad that nothing was happening, but I just let nothing happen. Three days before Christmas, the tree was finally brought in off the deck and set up by someone. Two days before Christmas, my mom brought up ornaments and lights. The night before Christmas, I was getting yams ready for us to take to Christmas at my aunt and uncle's, when finally a brother asked me about decorating the tree. I said go for it. He sort of stared at me and wandered away. A little while later the other brother asked me about decorating the tree and I told him to go for it. He gave me an odd look and then wandered away. After a while, my mom got my brothers and dad together and they started decorating and then came to ask me to join in. I told her no and explained why. She said she understood, but I've never been sure if she really did. When I was finished with the yams, I went to my bed and read until the others were done decorating the tree, which was like 10PM or something. It seemed awful late when it was done.

That's pretty much when I gave up on the idea decorating for Christmas. When I lived in Cowcity, I decided not to do anything to liven the place up. (My roommate probably saw plenty of Christmassy colors, though; he was so high that Christmas.) Last year I lived here and thought about getting something to decorate but decided that there was no point, I wasn't going to enjoy it, why bother? Same this year. Why bother?

Giving up on the decorating thing made it so it didn't affect me like it used to, the thing that really gets me is one of my brothers, and it's a constant thing, not just a Christmas thing. It's just that it has been going on for so long and this fucking Christmas time and my other brother is flying in from Maryland for Christmas that I'm just really being bothered. Anyway...

A few years ago, my brother and his girlfriend moved to SF. At Christmastime he's asked if the two of them will be coming to Cowtown to be with family. The answer was "I don't know" or "maybe" or "probably" or "We're going to try" or something like that. I can't remember if either one of them were up three years ago. I don't think they were. I know they weren't in Cowtown last year. They had to watch a bird or something that can't be left alone for one day, and their car didn't have a window, or it did and it just wouldn't start and they didn't do anything to fix it, I can't remember. They didn't get their Christmas gifts from us until Easter.

This year, there was a moment when my brother said he was going to be there because an uncle was laying on the guilt. Around the first of this month his story changed to they may be there. A week or so ago I e-mailed to find out if they were going to be there or if I should mail their gifts so they'll get them before April. He wrote back and wrote back, "I'm looking for 'Boxing Day' with the fam if I can rent a car..." I don't live in England or any other of the commonwealth nations. I don't get Boxing Day off. I'm supposed to be at work that day.

Monday, I e-mail my mom, my brother, and his girlfriend and asked them all if they knew, with 100% certainty if people were going to be up the day after Christmas.

That evening, my mom wrote back to say she had no idea, but that she'd call my brother and ask him on Tuesday.

According to a message left by my mother on my machine while I was in the shower this morning, she spoke with my brother and they'll probably be up the day after Christmas.

According to the girlfriend in an e-mail I got today, there's 87% certainty that they'll be up.

I have asked for the day off. I have received the day off.

If they don't show up for Christmas Day or Boxing Day, I'm through with them. I've rearranged my schedule and taken days off to spend time with them. I even fucked up my Easter weekend in April to get them to come to the Bash. I like them. They're fun and smart. But if, after using a vacation day, they don't show up this year, I'm never going to do it again. They can rearrange their schedule if they want to see me. They can take time off work.

If they don't show up this year, the only way I'll ever rearrange my life or use a day off to see them is if they get married and I'm invited to the ceremony. Other than that, there's no fucking way. I'm tired of being the one who's always accommodating. I'm not going to be anymore.

And now that that bit of bile is out there, I feel angrier than I did at the beginning of this post. Right now, I wish that I wasn't going to Cowtown because even though I know I'll enjoy myself this weekend, right now I feel like dog shit that was eaten by a different dog and then vomited up on the sidewalk and then stepped in by some pedestrian.

So, like I said in the last sentence of yesterday's post, "Merry Fucking Christmas."

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Lots of Cursing

I locked myself out of my apartment last night when I took the trash out. Had to call a locksmith. It cost $105 to get back in.

Merry Fucking Christmas.

Sandman Mystery Theatre: Sleep of Reason #1

By John Ney Rieber and Eric Nguyen, according to the cover, for Vertigo Comics

The first thing I have to do is confess that I haven't read many issues of the original Sandman Mystery Theatre. I think that the number of issues I have read can be counted on two fingers. One of those two issues may have been a special. I'm not sure because I don't own any of them. (I'm not counting the brilliant "Sand and Stars" storyline from Starman.)

That out of the way, I'll start with what disappointed me about this first issue: no Sandy Hawkins. I don't remember any of the solicits saying anything about Sandy appearing in the mini-series (although I can't remember if I actually read all the solicits for the mini), but he's what I expected. He's going to be called Sandman in the new Justice Society book now, isn't he?

Still, that disappoint didn't affect me while I was reading the issue.

It starts in 1997 in Afghanistan with, what I assume will be, Wesley Dodds and Dian Belmont's last adventure together. Dian gets kidnapped and Wesley fights, as best a ninety year old man can, to get her back. It flashes to Afghanistan today where an embedded journalist, named Marshall, is trying to snap pictures during a fire fight. Later, Marshall gets a "meeting" with Masad, the leader, apparently, of the men the US troops are fighting. The "meeting" is cut short with Marshall being dragged to a balcony where he's going to be shot. Flash back to Wesley fighting after, literally, being stomped on to rescue Dian, and failing. Back in the present, Marshall gropes around in a box, where a gas mask can be seen, and grabs a gun. It looks like Wesley's sleep gas gun. Marshall fires saying "Sleep" in wavy letters surrounded by a wavy word balloon. He jumps out the balcony saying "Sleep" again and firing the gas gun.

The art in this book is wonderful. Nguyen's art is a bit scratchy. Almost all the lines waver a bit, which helps to heighten the confusion in the story. The color pallet in Wesley's story is muted yellows showing the heat and blinding sunlight in his time. During the fire fight when Marshall is introduced, the predominate color is red which changes to an orange as the fight moves away and then to the same yellow as in Wesley's story and then back to read when there's some violence don to Marshall. Color is hard to talk about without being able to show what I'm talking about, but trust me, the coloring is outstanding.

Next month, I'll be picking up the second issue. I want to see Wesley and Dian's last moments together and I'm curious about what Marshall's going to be doing.

Monday, December 18, 2006

Today's Obsessive Song

By The Barenaked Ladies

It was the third or fourth song on my walk to work this morning and, even on my walk at lunch, I still haven't moved on to the next song.

Friday, December 15, 2006

Time Waster, the series continues

I have two goals for this weekend:

The first is to see For Your Consideration. I think that any movie that has people celebrating (sort or) Purim in the deep south has to be worth watching.

The second is to eat at the barbecue place that's right by the theater. I think I've been to the theater at least once a month since I moved here, but I still haven't tried the Q. It sure smells good, though.

I've been trying to go to lunch, since I hate going out when actual people are out, at places I haven't tried yet. I did the sushi place last week. It was good, but expensive, very expensive. The biggest problem I have with sushi places is they keep wanting me to order things with shrimp or octopus or squid in it. I can't handle those foods. I don't like the way they taste. And they make me vomit (or maybe there's just something out there that's totally unrelated to ingesting those creatures that makes me vomit after I eat them, I just don't know). So far my favorite place is the Mexican food place my mom and brother and I went to when I we came here to look for an apartment.

For next weeks place, I need some help. I want to try the Indian food place, but I've never had Indian food before. The one time I asked my brother about it, he told me it was good, but I might want to eat it on a night when I don't have anything to do the next day because I wouldn't want to be too far from the toilet. I also know about the Gilmore Girls suggestion of, when you order Indian take-out, burning down the house is the only way to get out the smell. So, I want to know, what should I order? Please remember that creatures with shells, creatures with shells and tails that swim or scuttle, and creatures with tentacles make me vomit, and not in the figurative sense.

And, just for the hell of it, here's a comic about cereal characters.

Justice Society of America #1

by Geoff Johns, Dale Eaglesham, and Art Thibert, according to the cover, for DC Comics

Dear everyone who was involved in the first issue of the new Justice League of America,

This is how you do it.

This is how you create an exciting first issue and pull the entire team together in only one issue. Sure, the JSoA team had five more pages to do it in, but I'm sure you could have asked for them as well, but they wouldn't have helped with my problems with the book.

Good luck next time, fellas.

Anyway, as I declared in my opening statement, I'm a pretty big fan of the Justice Society. I even like the "old men in tights" era of the team. I was, to put it mildly, upset when I found out that JSA was being canceled. I didn't see any reason to do it because the book hadn't lost its way like JLA had. It could have, and I think should have, continued on with a name change. It could have, and should have, been able to hit 100. The only reason, that I can think of, that it was cancelled was because DC didn't want a Justice Society book to have a higher number than the Justice League.

But that's not really what I'm supposed to be talking about, is it?

What I really liked is how, even though the collecting teammates was, at times, kind of boring (albeit important characterization), it was surrounded by the new Mr. America's mystery. So there were the introductions and then there was this mystery that, literally, came crashing down on the Justice Society at the end of the book.

Maxine Hunkle seems to have been the one character that everyone was most surprised by in this book. I was surprised, too. I had no idea what to expect, but everything I expected led me to cringe. She was called the team’s cheerleader and that just took me to a bad place. Like just about everyone else out there, though, I was thrilled with her character. The moment she said it was time to defy gravity, I was sure that there's no way I can dislike her. (Unless a really unskilled writer comes along and turns her into an evil slut. But Geoff Johns has enough clout to keep that from happening for a long while, right?) Her babbling may fill up panels with lots of words, but it makes so much sense for who she is. I can't wait to see what she'll become.

It seems that the new Starman will be Thom Kallor from the Legion of Superheroes. But which one? Seeing Dawnstar's fringe suggests that he'll be from the Silver Age or Earth 2 or where ever, not the current Star Boy. (Oh, that was a spoiler, by the way.) And if he takes off his mask revealing a white guy, they we can all be sure which one he is. Will he go by the name Danny Blaine, though? That's what I want to know. I like how his mind is fractured, too. Time travel in comics always seems to be too easy and, I'm assuming here, I like the idea that traveling through time may have hurt his mental capabilities. Eventually, it'll be fixed, but for now I can enjoy it and I look forward to his first meeting with The Shade, unless they've already met and we all missed it.

The only thing about the issue that I have the slightest problem with is the art. Eaglesham is competent, but his characters don't have much weight to them. And I'm not talking about waist and hip size. (Although there is a picture of Power Girl where I thought it's lucky she has a super strong spine or else her breast would be down to her hips because her spine would compress until it practically doesn't exist any more.) What I'm talking about is a sense of gravity. Like the characters are standing solidly on something. In this book, gravity seems to have a low effect on all the characters and if the wind blows too strong even the ones who can't fly will be blown away.

Of course, part of my problem is comparing Eaglesham and Thibert's work with work of Stephen Sadowski and Michael Bair's first issue in the last book incarnation of the JSA. Sadowski and Bair are probably my favorite penciling/inking team to touch the JSA, ever.

One more art thing before I wrap all this up: To the colorist, whose name escapes me since I didn't bring the comic with me to work, your use of the big color dots in this book was far superior to their use in the first issue of Justice League of America, but I want to remind you for the next time you use it that from the dawn of comic book until the sometime in the '80s, the shading on characters was pretty much non-existent or done with lines from the penciler and inker. So, when you do the initial color pass be sure to block those panels in solid colors and leave the shading out of it. It just looks wrong.

Overall, this book was so spectacular that the grade shoots up the scale into letters that have yet to exist in those higher planes of existence magical character are always talking about. The next issue can not come out soon enough for me.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

My Favorite Lines

From my favorite Monkees songs:
Oh, I could hide neath the wings
Of the bluebird as she sings.
The six o'clock alarm would never ring.
Whoops its ringing and I rise,
Wipe the sleep out of my eyes.
My shavin' razors cold and it stings.
Up, up, come on get up off your street.
If you can only make it from your hands to your knees,
I know you can make it to your feet. wooah!
Floatin' down the river
With a saturated liver
And I wish I could forgive her
But I do believe she meant it
When she told me to forget it
And I bet she will regret it
When they find me in the morning wet and drowned
My pappy taught me how to float
But I cant swim a single note
He threw me in to teach me how
I stayed there floatin' like a mama cow
Creature comfort goals
They only numb my soul
and make it hard for me to see
My thoughts all seem to stray,
to places far away
I need a change of scenery
You cant begrudge her style, your Auntie Grizelda,
She couldn't budge a smile and do it for free.
So righteous making fudge, your Auntie Grizelda,
So proper judging others over her tea.
She used to bring me my newspaper
cause she knew where it was at.
She used to keep me so contented.
But I can teach a dog to do that.
Now they've darkened all the windows
And the seats are Naugahyde
I've been waiting for an hour
I can't find a place to hide
The being known as wondergirl
Is speaking, I believe
It's not easy trying to tell her
That I shortly have to leave
Just thought I'd share a little more of my Monkees infatuation.

newuniversal #1

by Warren Ellis and Salvador Larroca, according to the cover, for Marvel Comics

My first thought, after I finished reading newuniversal, was, "So, that's where the idea for Rising Stars came from." I don't know much about the original New Universe stuff, but I do know that it came out in the mid 80s, long before Rising Stars and I'm assuming that the flash from space was part of the original story. (I remember reading somewhere someone comparing this book to the TV show Heroes. Well, I've never seen Heroes, so I can't make that comparison. How accurate is that comparison?)

when I pick up a first issue, I always hope for something to happen. newuniversal sort of had something happen with the flash of light, but like so many number ones out there today there wasn't much beyond setup. (The ultimate example, in recent memory is the first issue of Justice League of America. Not much has actually happened in the first three issues (I don't have the fourth, yet). Hell, the team hasn't even been brought together, yet. But that has nothing to do with this issue.) The people who I assume are going to be the main characters are introduced.

There's the goth girl (Woman? She looks like she's in her mid to late twenties in the artwork. And maybe she's not really a goth and the coloring was off in that first picture. I don't know.) who lives in San Francisco who talks to, what looks like, Brother-Eye in her dreams. There's the guy from Oklahoma who, probably, put the newuniversal symbol in a field, and burned his girlfriend up. There's the cop that comes back from almost dead with the power to pull his penis into his body so the audience can't see it and won't be offended by it. And there are the scientists digging around in Latvia and discover a skeleton with the newuniversal symbol in its skull (which immediately made me think of Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials books with the people who chiseled holes in their heads to gather more pixie dust, or whatever it was).

Salvador Larroca's line work is wonderful. I've always like the way he draws and it's interesting seeing how he inks his own work. The line doesn't look as crisp as it did the Ultimate Daredevil & Elektra or X-Men, but it's still nice. The coloring, though, doesn't work for me. I like, and I'm sure I'm in the minority here, the way his art looked with the flatter color that was used in those other comics mentioned. The digital painting (I assume Corel Painter is what's been used) is nice, but I think it would better serve the story if it was used to separate the moments of the woman's dream from the real world. How great would it be if her dreams were hyper real compared the real world? I think it would be wonderful, but I'm not in charge here and I don't work in the comic industry, what do I know?

Some mystery is set up: What was the flash or white event, which is what it's being called in the comic? Does the symbol that appeared on the woman's face create scanty magic armor or at least that tight black number in the real world? Should "Dueling Banjos" start playing in the jail scenes? How long before these people get together? And is Brother-Eye trying to create a new version of OMACs in this book?

I'm not sure if I'll be picking up the second issue because I wasn't excited at the end of the first issue. I like the art, I like Warren Ellis, and I trust that the story will get interesting, eventually, but I'm not sure if I want to wait for three or four issues before it does. I guess we'll see when the next issue comes out.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

A Spattering of Thoughts

So, I passed the test and I can't really think of anything to say, but because I don't want to work and I want to look busy and I like practicing my touch typing (crazy, I know) I'm trying to write something any way.

Just read that Peter Boyle died this afternoon (evening in New York, I guess). He was the monster in Young Frankenstein. He was the only reason to watch Everybody Loves Raymond. He seemed like a funny man.

Is it odd that when people die (so far, even the people I know) I don't feel bad about it? I just sort of think, "Well, there it is, then." and move on. Maybe I'll react different when a grandparent dies, but I don't know. Last Thanksgiving, when my grandpa was sick and in the hospital, my parents and the one brother who came to Cowtown all sort of prepared for the possibility of him dying. I didn't feel bad about that. He's in his 80s. He's had a long life. I didn't see anything wrong with a man that age dying, even if he is my grandpa.

What else, what else?

I like listening to The Monkees. Have I ever written that here? I can't remember. I like their music and I like their logo.

Okay, it's nearly time to go and I'm ready.


I passed the test yesterday!

Now I can start worrying about so many other things!

Monday, December 11, 2006

The Next Day

On the next day (or this day, if you're reading this on the next day), I will be in Cowcity taking a test. I don't know how prepared I am for this test, but I'm not really worried, either. I just hope I pass it and can move away from where I'm at.

That is all.

Friday, December 08, 2006

Fruity Oaty Bars Make a Man Out of a Mouse

Been pretty much ignoring this place this week, haven't I?

The week did start off with me having actual work to do since I had several hundred files at my desk that needed to be boxed and shipped to storage. I got them boxed, but the state's (or the department's) contract with UPS expired so I wasn't able to ship them. Now they just sit in the back in a pile waiting for the state (or the department) to get all up in DHL's face and get a new contract so we're not using a service that cost three times as much as we used to.

Been singing certain songs over and over again in my head. Beatles's "Girl" has been going through my head a lot lately. As has the Fruity Oaty Bars song from Serenity. There's no logic to any of it, they're just there on alternating cycles.

Been thinking a lot about what a waste going to college was. My job isn't dependent on having gone to college. I'm still more than ten thousand dollars in debt. I didn't make any lasting friendships. I was told by someone, who I had a huge crush on, that talking to me was just like talking to her sister, right after I asked her out. (Up until that point, I thought that line was just made up by John Hughes or some other teen angst writer.) The moments of academic enjoyment were few and far between. I think, if I had the chance to, I'd stop my high school self from going to college. I'd encourage the younger me to sign up for the test that I took 18 months ago and go work for the state. I'd tell me that I could go to a JC part time and eventually work my way to a university if I wanted to. I doubt I'd be any happier or healthier, but I wouldn't be so paranoid about money and maybe I'd have done some interesting things in these past nine years. Also, I can't see how me making a decision like that would negatively effect anyone around me.

That's one of the two points in my life that I can look back at and see that if I had just made one simple choice, things would be different. There's no way for me to know if they'd be way better, but I know that a couple of things would be better. Not going to college/university right out of high school would make money better. The other point would make a different thing better, but money would probably be pretty much the same.

Everyone can see moments like those, right?

We all think like this sometimes, right?

The weirdest thing is that I don't want to go peeking into those two worlds in the MWI because I'd hate to know if there's another me who's worse off and I'd hate to be the me that's worse off.

Does that make sense?

Thursday, December 07, 2006


The Slow Dancer
Deliberate Gentle Love Dreamer (DGLDm)

Steady, reliable, and cradling her tenderly. Take a deep breath, and let it out real are The Slow Dancer.

Your focus is love, not sex, and for your age, you have average experience. But you're a great, thoughtful guy, and your love life improves every year. There's also a powerful elimination process working in your favor: most Playboy types get stuck raising unwanted kids before you even begin settling down. The women left over will be hot and yours. Your ideal woman is someone intimate, intelligent, and very supportive.

Your exact opposite:
The Hornivore

Random Brutal Sex Master
While you're not exactly the life of the party, you do thrive in small groups of smart people. Your circle of friends is extra tight and it's HIGHLY likely they're just like you. You appreciate symmetry in relationships.

ALWAYS AVOID: The Battleaxe

CONSIDER: The Maid of Honor or The Sonnet
I've changed OkCupid catagory. I used to be The Boy Next Door. Now I am, apparently, more deliberate than random. I'm not sure that's a good thing.

For the Love of Doug

As long as Doug isn't on the receiving end, that would just be inappropriate.

And now, the art's for sale.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006


Finally answered Alliya.

Oh sweet Duck Christ, do I even make sense when I write things like that?


I was just handed a card to sign for someone who is going to have a bunion taken out.


Tuesday, December 05, 2006

I Always Wondered...

What a Baldy Award looked like and why it was named what it was named.

Now I know.

Monday, December 04, 2006


I'll just ignore that second paragraph because nothing I've experienced in my life has shown it to be true.

Friday, December 01, 2006

Ends 'N Odds

I forgot to go on my break this morning. It's no big deal because I was sitting here reading Websnark's thing about Goats and playing Dice Wars.

Yesterday, after I wrote the post, I found it hard to concentrate on anything for a long time. I tried to read on my break, but couldn't focus. It was like I was excited because I had written something that seemed important and relevant and interesting, to me at least. I felt like I should have kept going. I just didn't have anything else to say, though.

Does anyone who's read Neal Stephenson's Cryptonomicon know why he uses the term "Nipponese"? To me, it makes sense to have the guys in WWII say it, but, honestly, how many people use it now? Don't most of the people in the US today say "Japanese"? Do the Japanese call themselves Nipponese? If I wanted to be correct, should I be calling Japan Nippon?

I don't know when it'll be on the air, but you can watch one of the songs over on YouTube right now. It's called Guy Love.

That's all I have today. Be well, peoples.