Proper Word Usage

Last night, as I was drifting in that awkward state between awake and asleep, I thought it would be a good idea to write a post proclaiming that Kurt Busiek is a misogynist, even though I don't think he is, based on the most recent issue of Astro City: Dark Ages. It would be easy to do because there are only two women in the book and neither one is a good role model. One woman is a gold digger who spends all the money her husband makes on herself. The other woman is a "superhero" who murdered a man. It's obvious that through these two women Busiek is saying that all regular women want to use a man for his money and women with any sort of strength and independence are out to eliminate men because they are threatened by the power men have. I mean it's totally obvious, right?

I realized, before I fell asleep, that it would be a bad idea because if people actually read it and even if I wrote at the bottom of the my intentions for writing it, they would probably be ignored because people tend to be blinded by the one bit that they want, whether that bit is a good or bad thing depends on the reader and his or her state of mind while reading it. (I do it, too. I'm not trying to say that I'm better, I just want to say that I realize it's going on within me as much as it is within every reader out there. Otherwise, how could you explain so many different religious takes based on one book?)

The whole reason I wanted to write it was to point out how by using a word in a place where it doesn't belong the word starts losing it's meaning.

There's this great strip over at Penny Arcade that helps to illustrate my point. Gabe is proposing to his then girlfriend, now wife, and says,

"It is not enough for me to say that I love her. I have used this same word to describe my relationship with milk, my television and those little bagel things with the pizza inside. So, to use it to describe the immense feelings and emotions that she elicits in me seems wrong."

Which is really good point. Do you think he loves his wife like he loves milk, his television, or those little bagel things with the pizza inside? I hope not.

I started thinking about this a while ago when I followed a link to a link to a link and came across some one's blog post where this woman wrote about why she wasn't going to read a certain online comic anymore. (I looked for the page, but I couldn't find it. Please pardon my memory if I really fuck this up, but I don't think I'm going to.) I don't remember what strip she wasn't going to read anymore because it wasn't a strip that I follow, but I do remember a comment. The person who wrote the comment said that she was no longer going to be reading PVP because Scott Kurtz, the creator, had written about (to find it you have to scroll down to the post titled "Jade," it's most of the way down) how he felt Jade had become a reactionary character, someone who stood in the corner, rolling her eyes, and telling the guys in the strip how they screwed up and that he wanted to make more time for her in the strip to flesh out her character more and then the next storyline happened to be one where Marcy and Jade tricked Francis and Brent into having a romance contest. Then she called Scott Kurtz a misogynist for doing that.

I got angry and wrote a horrible comment. I erased the post pretty quickly because I think a person should pause, count to ten, and reread an angry comment to decide if it was appropriate. And I didn't want to be pounced on by the people who would ignore what I actually wrote and be called a misogynist for it. Basically I didn't understand how a man can be considered a misogynist for writing that he wanted to take a closer look at a character he created and then doing a story about romance. Does that really make a man a misogynist? I don't think so. I think calling Kurtz one is a misuse of the word and takes away from it's intent and meaning. To know if Kurtz is a misogynist, the person who wrote the comment would have to know him, and I don't think she did.

Along the same lines are the women who jumped up (and those who continue to jump up) and say that Ron Marz is a misogynist because he created Alex DeWitt to be killed within the first few issues of Kyle Rayner's tenure as Green Lantern. One of my favorite pieces of writing on the subject is Kalinara's "Women in Refrigerators" post from way back in her first week of writing.

When people use a word like this too much in the wrong context, it reminds me of "The Boy Who Cried Wolf."

Let me put it to you like this:
Dave Sim is not a misogynist because Cerebus raped his wife, Astoria, and then divorced her. (It's in "Church and State.") Cerebus is a nasty bastard of a character that Sim created. Cerebus did the raping, not Sim. Plus, Cerebus and Astoria aren't real. They're fictional.

Dave Sim IS a misogynist because of the writings of Viktor Davis (who is a thinly veiled stand-in for Sim) in "Reads" (where he says that men are points of creative light and women are emotional voids trying to absorb the male creativity) and an essay called "Tangent" (where he agrees with what he wrote as Viktor Davis and bashes feminism and homosexuals and calls women beings of emotion who don't have the ability to be logical).

Maybe I'm wrong, though. Maybe I'm not allowed to even think like this since I'm not female and I don't think of myself as a feminist.

But I really hate to see and hear words with strong meanings lose their meanings. I don't say that I love those little bagel things with the pizza inside, I only say I really like them.

Nothin' Much

I've signed up for a test to get me out of this job. It's in thirteen days in Cowcity. I can bring a calculator with me. (I guess that means the math on this one will be harder than the math on the last one I took.) The pay is better. Whether this'll lead to a job and a place that I want, I have no idea.

After all, there's that song which says, "But how can you know what you want / 'Til you get what you want / And you see if you like it?"

A Few Bits

The First Bit:

I'm not going to finish the NaNoWriMo thing. A couple of weeks ago my main character started to become me and I really lost interest in writing it. I'm hoping to get another 2000 words out so I'm at least over the 20000 word mark. I may not, though. Who knows.

The Other Bit:

While I enjoyed my time back in Cowtown, part of me wishes that I hadn't gone because it just makes me loathe being here. The city is okay, but it's about to go through a growth spurt that will ruin the small town feeling that it's somehow kept even though there are over one hundred thousand people. Next year starts construction on two buildings in the downtown area that are going to be fourteen stories tall. If I wanted to live in a city with buildings that tall, I'd have moved to one when I started this job.

One More Bit:

I'm also going through a bit of post holiday self loathing. I'll try not to let it overflow here, too much.

Slumpin'

I have ten minutes before I leave. I've been catching up on work all day long. (Well, I've paused to catch-up on blogs that I didn't read over the weekend and the comics as well.)

For some reason, when I take a day off, The Supervisor, in her infinite wisdom (I hope you caught the sarcasm there), puts a stack of work in my basket. When other people take a day off, she distributed the mail only to the people who are here and then splits up any extra mail in the missing person's basket among those of us who are here.

Aren't I lucky?

There are other things that can, and possibly should, be said, but they won't be around until tomorrow, if I remember.

Is It Too Much To Ask?

I got this in my spam:
"Want to be BETTER then pornstar?
Amaze youre girlfriend"

Is it too much to ask that the spam people send me uses proper or, barring that, reasonable grammar?

Giving Thanks

I a few short hours, I'll be on my way to Cowtown for Thanksgiving.

I had a much longer post in mind, but then I read that Robert Altman died and decided to sit and read about his movies and think about his movies.

Be well, everybody.

Civil War #5

Anyone else think that Civil War #5 was kind of boring?

Don't fret, because Tetsubo Productions has made it much, much better.

Have a read.

(Via Blog@Newsarama)

It Has Returned

From July through the beginning of September, there was a turquoise Plymouth Belvedere parked along the road on my walk to and from work. Every day as I walked past it, I'd slow down a little to enjoy it. Sometime's I'd reach for it, but I wouldn't touch it, I'd just trace the lines around it, trying to get a sense of the shape.

And then it disappeared.

At first, I just assumed that the owner's work schedule had shifted and that's why I didn't see it anymore. But it wasn't there on weekends, either. One day I ran back to my apartment on my lunch hour and it wasn't there. I figured it was gone for good.

Saturday, walking to the post office, it was back. Parked right where it had sat before, as if it had never left. (Here's a picture I found of one online for those of you who can't picture what a mid-50s Belvedere looks like. It looks a lot like the one I see.)

I've never been much of a car guy. I don't car about power and torque and the rest of the crap that goes on under the hood. I'm not a fan of muscle cars or massive trucks. I have, however, always liked the way that American cars looked in the mid 1950s. They're the cars that make me stop and stare.

There's something about the basic design so many of the cars had that just tickles me. Especially the hood.

So, until it disappears, again, I'll be taking a pause on my walk to and from work to stare at a car. I hope you don't mind.

(And for my mom, here's a 1957 Nash Metropolitan, another beautiful car design. These things were works of art, I tell you.)

Because Sometimes We Need Some Help

"Snappy come backs" from Jazz.

I have to agree with one of her commenter, "A hard-on doesn't count as personal growth." is my favorite.

Work Woes

If it's okay for an employee to sit her cell phone talking about her kid's grades and the grades of other kids, loudly, at her desk for twenty minutes, why am I not allowed to put my headphones on?

Today, I found out that something that was rather simple to do will probably be turning into a real pain in the ass. If a copy service is hired by another copy service, we need to find out who they ultimately work for.

Why? I asked.

To protect the injured worker. I was told.

From what? I asked.

We're not sure. You have to ask to find out. I was told.

And what if the copy service company doesn't know? I asked.

Then they need to find out. I was told.

What do I do then? I asked.

After you find out, you find out why they need to look at the file. I was told.

Why? I asked.

To make sure that the employee doesn't need to be notified. I was told.

But weren't we told in that painful "meeting" a couple of weeks ago that the only time we need to notify the injured worker is when it's for employment pre-screening which is a box that's supposed to be checked on the file request form so I have that answer already? I asked.

Yes, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't check, even though we only notify the employee for employment pre-screening. I was told.

And after all that? I asked.

You get the file redacted so the copy service can look at it. I was told.

So, nothings really changed except I have to waste more time frustrating myself and the person who works for the copy service by asking questions that don't pertain to anything relating to the actual copying of the file because I can look at the request form to find out if the file needs to be redacted easily? I asked.

Yes. I was told.

Hunkle?

Someone here just said, "I'm trying to find Maxine's file."

"Hunkle?" I asked.

She stared at me for a bit and then said, "No."

She didn't get it.

Most of you probably don't get it, either. But that's okay.

Four, It's Not The Magic Number

Been tagged by Jazz, who was tagged by Choochoo.

P.S. I'm not hunting down pictures, no matter what it might add to the reader's experience.

Four Jobs I've Had During My Life:

Worked at the front desk of my dorm building my first year of college. Mostly, I sat back there and did my home work, read, or played Solitaire (sometimes on the computer, but mostly with real cards). I was probably the only student who went to that school who had his homework done before midnight on Fridays.

I worked at a sandwich shop making, duh, sandwiches. I was there for about 18 months. I saw all the tourist freaks who came up to the mountains to get away from the city, but wanted all the conveniences of the city near by. "What do you mean the nearest movie theater is fifteen miles away? Isn't there one closer?" I'd be asked. "There's only one in the whole county. If you want to rent a movie there's a place right near store," I'd say. "But I wanted to see [insert crappy action movie starring Will Smith name here]," I'd hear. And then I'd charge that person for the sandwich I was making the whole time. Sometimes, I marvel at the fact that I still have all my original fingertips.

I did the Starbucks thing for nearly three years. It's pretty well documented in the archived sections here between December 1, 2003 and September 2, 2005.

Now I work here trying to look busy so I can spend time reading things on the 'net.

And those are the only four jobs I've had where taxes were taken out of my paycheck.

Four TV Shows I Like To Watch:

Only reruns of Frasier and my DVD collection, right now.

If I had broadcast TV I know I'd be obsessively watching Gilmore Girls, Veronica Mars, Lost, and The Office. (Well, not Lost anymore, since the idiots decided on a "no rerun" policy and yanked it until February. That's a long wait.)

If I had all the happy cable channels, I'd have kick out one of those to put Battlestar Galactica in.

And then in January 24 is back on TV. Argh! So many good things to watch that I can't watch.

But I don't have either broadcast or cable, so I'm currently working my way through my parents' copy of the first season of Star Trek.

Out of the ones that I own and can (and often do) watch whenever I want:

Star Trek: Deep Space 9 - The best of the Trek, I'm still missing the sixth season, though.

South Park - I only own up through Season 5, for now. "Scott Tenorman Must Die" is one of the funniest things ever produced on TV. The last line of "Here Comes the Neighborhood" is awesome, too.

Wonderfalls - All of you who didn't watch it when it was on TV screwed up. You got a great show cancelled. Shame on you. Shame.

Daria - Simply the best.

Four Places I've Lived:

The question here is how specific do I want to get?

Is writing "Only in California." enough?

How about writing that I've lived in Cowtown, Cowcity, North Bay, and College-ville?

To clarify a bit:

Cowtown: Where I lived between the ages of 5-18, 19-21, 23-24, 26. My hometown.

Cowcity: Where I lived between the ages of 24-26 and thought I'd be going to Grad School.

North Bay: Where I live now.

College-ville: The city with my second university which only claim to fame was the fact that it had a university in it.

Four Foods I Eat Too Much Of:

Fresh, soft, super sour sourdough bread. The smell. The texture. The flavor.

Ice cream, in general, is one of the greatest things ever. In particular: mint chocolate chip, rocky road, vanilla, fudge brownie, and so many others.

Pasta. I just have a general desire for the stuff. Slather it in red or white sauce with our without meat (unless it's shellfish, in which case I'll send the pasta right back up onto the plate), in a salad with olives and bits of cheese, dry and crunchy straight from the package, it's all good.

Four Movies I'd Watch Over and Over:

Fantasia - It's simply the best movie I've ever seen in my entire life.

Clerks - I can't help it.

Sleepless in Seattle - It makes my insides melt every time I watch it.

I'm gonna reserve the fourth slot for everything else that I've already watched over and over.

Four Places I'd Rather Be:

This is assuming infinite money and no need to work ever again, right?

Europe, just in general. That's where the history of my history begins. That's where most of the stories that I love first came from. That's where more has happened to shape the world than anywhere else. It's dirty, dark, cold, beautiful, old, new, totally wonderful, and where I'd like to be.

I'd like to be in New York City walking off a nice meal and heading toward a theater to see some new play.

On a beach where the water is clear, the breeze is light, and the people are few and far between.

In a house on a hill in a snowstorm with a fire going a book in my hand and nothing to worry about.

Four People I'm Tagging:

I don't want to tag anyone. If you want me to tag you, leave a comment and I'll edit the post.

How To Have a Three Day Weekend And Fall Even More Behind On Your NaNoWriMo Novel

Be in a really bad mood on Thursday. So bad that you forget that it's Thursday and think it's really Friday and plan on going to a movie to make yourself feel better.

Get to the theater and realize that the movie you want to see starts the next day.

Wander around the town for an hour with no purpose other than to try to get rid of your mood.

Stop in at the comic shop and pick up some comics, but don't bother to read them because you're in such a bad mood it'd only ruin the experience.

Wander some more.

Eventually, get back to your apartment, turn on reruns of Everybody Loves Raymond, even though you don't like the show, and heat up leftovers that aren't fuzzy and don't stink, yet.

Call the good movie theater to see what's playing there.

Go to the only showing, the last showing, of Death of a President, which isn't the cheeriest movie out there right now but is still excellent.

Climb in bed and sleep as soon as you get back.

The next morning, actually sleep in, but wake up with that bad mood hanging on like a tick on a dog's stomach.

Stare at the sausage that's been in the freezer for three months and wonder if it's safe to eat.

Cook it and eat it with scrambled eggs.

Call the downtown movie theater to find out when the movie you wanted to see yesterday is playing.

Shower, get dressed, and walk to the movie theater for the first showing.

See a huge line and offer a quick prayer to Cricket Christ that they're all there to see Borat or The Santa Clause 3 and not Stranger than Fiction.

Sit back with popcorn with lots of greasy fake butter stuff to enjoy the movie.

Laugh out loud at parts you think are funny, even if the rest of the audience isn't laughing.

Feel a little better, but don't head back to your apartment.

Instead, look at new shoes since two of the three pairs you own have holes in the bottom and the other pair is so old that there's only most no traction left, especially when it's wet out.

Find shoes you like, try them on, and walk around a little.

Don't buy the shoes because you're not sure how much money you have in your checking account at the moment and you don't have your credit card with you because you leave it out of your wallet so when you are going to use it you actually have to think about using it to decide if it's really worth it.

Don't go right back to your apartment to find out how much money you have or grab your credit card, instead keep looking at shoes and then expand into looking at all the things you can not, should not, and would not buy.

Dream of what you would do with all the things you can not, should not, and would not buy.

Be horrified at the "shoe stores" that devote more room to hats and hoodie sweatshirts than actual shoes.

Watch the people walking around the mall and marvel at how people of all races and religions can get along here, but not at a high school football game.

Wonder if the only true form of worship in this day and age is the accumulation of money and stuff.

Get bored and head back to your apartment.

Cook ramen for dinner.

Turn on your computer and promise to sit down and start writing soon.

Put on headphones and listen to music.

Sit down at computer.

Instead of typing, get up and change the sheets on your bed.

Clean the toilet.

Wash the dishes.

Decide you're tired and want to sleep.

Take off headphones, turn off the computer, promise you'll work hard tomorrow, and climb in bed.

Wake up early the next morning.

Gather clothes for trip to the laundry because socks should only stand up when they're on your feet.

Shower.

Go to the laundromat and wash and dry and fold clothes.

While there, try not to stare at the better looking people.

Stop by the store on the way back to your apartment for milk and batteries.

Find milk and batteries.

Wander around the store just in case there's something you forgot you needed.

Find many things you forgot you needed.

Chat with the girl at the checkout counter about the weather.

Hope it made her day better because all it did was waste two minutes of your day.

Drive back to apartment.

Carry everything, including the clean laundry, up the stairs in only two trips.

Read a comic book to celebrate.

Turn on your computer and plan to get to work soon.

Put milk and other perishable groceries away.

Replace batteries in smoke detectors.

Read two comic books to celebrate.

"Clean" the pile of comics on the floor of your bedroom by pushing them around the floor while trying not to read any of them.

Fail.

Find a game you haven't played in a while in the pile and decide to play it, but only for a little while because you have to write more.

Suddenly realize it's 9:30 and you haven't eaten anything since you got back from shopping and you're hungry.

Eat something then turn off the computer and go to bed, after reading the rest of the comics you bought.

Enjoy Franklin Richards, Son of a Genius: Happy Franksgiving! and Phonogram 1 and 3 quite a bit. (You bought 2 the month before because the cover is beautiful.)

Wake-up the next morning later than usual, but earlier than you'd like and wander around your apartment trying to figure out if there's anything that you should be doing that's important.

Watch an episode of Star Trek while eating breakfast.

Clean the bathtub while showering.

Watch another episode of Star Trek.

Turn on computer and sit at it saying to yourself that this is the time to get cracking.

Play Minesweeper and Solitaire and Hearts and Spider Solitaire and Pyramid for an embarrassingly long time.

Finally open the file and look at it.

Play another game of Minesweeper and promise yourself that it'll only be one game, this time, but know that you're lying to yourself.

Turn on the TV and watch an info-mercial about a little blender and one about coins; switch quickly between the two in case you miss something important.

Put on another episode of Star Trek.

Play the game from yesterday, but only for a little while; help that by setting a timer for two hours.

Make dinner and watch another Star Trek while eating.

Turn off the TV after you've flossed and brushed your teeth.

Sit down at your computer once again.

Put on headphones and turn on random music.

Skip to a song you like.

Finally start writing.

Write until you get enough words to put you at where you should have been at the end of Thursday, if you had been on time then.

Turn off the computer, climb in bed, and go to sleep with the feeling of guilt gnawing away at your stomach.

Unhelpful Idea

If the fucking doughnut shop that's on my walk back to my apartment was open, I'd eat until I started vomiting.

Since that's not going to happen, I'm going to the movies and buy popcorn coated with fake butter substitute.

A Mood

Maybe it's because tomorrow's a holiday, maybe it's because The Supervisor is a lazy bitch, maybe it's because I stayed up late (for me) and wrote far too little, but I'm in a bad mood right now.

It's the kind of mood where I want to kick a dog that's being walked by its owner. It's the kind of mood where I want to walk up to an insecure person and tell him or her that he or she is fat. It's the kind of mood where I want to be a big asshole to everyone around me.

I'm never really an asshole, though. Occasionally, I'll do something that I consider asshole-esque, other people don't think it's asshole-esque or they just don't call me on it. And when I do those asshole-ish things on purpose, I want to be called on it.

Those moments are very few and very far between.

Still, I really want to kick a dog or make some poor woman burst into tears right now.

Ape-stract Art

Cheeta, the true star of the '30s Tarzan movies, paints.

Here's how to buy them.

And this is someone who did.

Two Words I Wish I Could Work Into Daily Conversation

Didactic

--and--

Epistolary

Grok the Vote

As many out there know (hopefully close to the number 300,000,000, since that's how many people live in the nation now), today is Election Day in the United States.

While I'd like a lot of people to go out and vote, especially in an off year, I don't expect it to happen. And I totally expect the block of wood to become the Governor, again. So, I'm not really going to talk about that.

Instead, I'm going to talk about how stupid it is to have Election Day be on a Tuesday.

Way back in the day, it made sense. Men (because that's the only gender which could vote) who lived on farms could leave their farm on Monday, ride into town that evening, spend the night getting drunk and whoring it up even though they had a wife and kids at home, vote on Tuesday morning with their heads pounding, do some shopping for supplies and such, and head back to their farms that afternoon to arrive that night. It was like this for that day of travel and to keep people from traveling on Sundays because God wouldn't like that (Unless the person was Jewish because then God didn't want them to travel on Saturday, but back then all Jews were Satan's children; or Native Americans who were kept moving around the country or drunk.), so no voting on Saturday or Sunday.

Today, that doesn't make much sense. I'm betting that that even a farmer who lives in Wankerville, Nowhere has a car that can get him, his wife, and any voting children into town on voting day, any day of the week. (I guess God doesn't mind people traveling on Sunday. Hell, He doesn't mind them going to Denny's and that's a sin, right?) Folks who live in the suburbs and work in a city (or worse, live in Lancaster or Victorville and commute into Los Angeles) have the problem. They live an hour, or more, away from where they work, but they have to vote near where they live. (And, let's face it, most people aren't going for the absentee ballots or the early voting. I don't understand it, but there you have it. Maybe all the states should go the way Oregon did and just insist on mail in ballots.)

So, on Election Day, our voter, who lives in the 'burbs, has to be at work by eight, but to get there on time, she has to leave at 6:30 to ride in the car pool. Polls don't open until 7, so that's no good. She does live in California, which means her employer has to give her "reasonable time off to vote," but according to the poster hanging in the break room "reasonable time" is an hour, that means she could vote at seven and then drive herself to work, but by then, traffic is so insane it'll take her more than two hours to get to work, not to mention trying to find parking and paying for a temporary permit.

The polls, though, don't close until 8, so maybe after work. Work ends at 5, but since she left with the carpool in the morning, she has to wait for everyone to get back to the car, which means they won't leave until closer to 5:45. The drive that takes about 80 minutes in the morning always take closer to 100 minutes in the evening, which gets her home close to 7:30. That would be, barely enough time to get to her polling place, if she didn't have a family, who she could probably take with her, but she's so exhausted it's easier to pop a frozen lasagna into the oven and sit down and try not to fall asleep before the food burns.

I know that's all a little over the top, but still wouldn't it be easier for nearly everyone if Election Day was on Saturday. That way, the only thing most registered voters can blame not voting on is not wanting to wait in line. And, honestly, if not wanting to wait in a line is your reason for not voting, maybe it's good that you're not.

A Thought

One of my favorite bands, right now, is (are?) The Dresden Dolls.

When I lived in Cowcity, I remember hearing their song "Coin Operated Boy" (low-res video) (which many of you have probably heard) and thinking it was clever and funny, but not much more. About a week before I moved one of the two radio stations I listened to, that weren't NPR based, played some snippets from a concert The Dresden Dolls had performed a month or so earlier and that's when I heard the song "Girl Anachronism" (the mp3) and I knew that this was an album I had to have. I didn't buy it, though. I was about to move and I didn't have the income to justify buying a CD.

About a year ago, I finally bought it. It was better than I expected. Odd and twisted (the song "Missed Me" (its mp3) is my favorite example of that) and wonderful. The piano isn't always used as an instrument, but as something for Amanda Palmer to take her anger and other emotions out on while playing the melody.

I don't know what it is, but there's something in their music that's haunting and lovely and frightening all at the same time and I can't seem to get enough of it.

I just got their new album, Yes, Virginia, but haven't been able to absorb it yet. This writing thing has pushed my musical appreciation off until the end of the month because I don't write so well while listening to music I've never heard before, but I'm looking forward to the time that I can sit back and really listen to it.

But that's not my thought.

My thought is that I want The Dresden Dolls to be huge. I want everyone to have experienced their music, even if they don't like it, because I enjoy it so much. If they become really popular and other bands start cloning their sound, will they be as interesting? Is it better for me, as a fan, to have them stay as they are, less known than they could be, because that keeps them more free to do as they please in their music?

I'm not sure.

Walk Sleeping

I only wrote about 800 words last night. I wasn't feeling well, though. I shut the computer off and climbed into bed around eight and pretty much fell asleep right away. (Well, after I read the latest issue of 52. I don't want to be confused when Newsarama posts their weekly interview with the editor of the comic.)

I woke up this morning just as tired as I was when I went to bed, but I climbed out of bed and shuffled to the kitchenette and made a peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich for breakfast. (I wanted strawberry jam, but it's gotten a bit old and sort of crystallized to the jar.) The food didn't wake me up, neither did the shower, nor the walk to work. (No rain today, just clouds that I'm hoping will open up and dump down on us.)

I'm afraid this means I'm approaching the ill event horizon. I'd like to pull away before I get caught in it, but if it's unavoidable, I'm ready for the ride. The main thing I wonder, though, is why, if I'm going in, it had to happen on the weekend? Couldn't it have held off until Sunday night so I could ditch work on Monday?

If I'm out on Monday, which I doubt I will be I'll probably be just fine then, I'll spend the time that would have been spent at work watching Wonderfalls, which I had returned to me last weekend. It's a good way to spend a sick day.

It's Just Been

It's been raining today, though it's not right now. The building smells wet, but not in the good clean way that outside smells. It smells sour. And it's been hot in here all day. Why, when it rains, do people automatically assume that it means cold?

I've felt off all day today. I think it's the heat and the smell and the bad for me breakfast I had this morning. Hopefully once I leave I'll be my normal self. No promises, though.

I only wrote about 1250 words of my "novel" last night. More than I thought I'd write, but not as much as I should. If I keep up this pace, I'll get about 37500 words written by the thirtieth. Except I have to load the stuff at work, so I suppose it'd really be around 36250 words. I posted an excerpt on my profile page, but I'm having trouble just loading the profile, let alone the excerpt. It's the beginning of the story.

I should be working, but I don't want to. And I don't mean I don't want to in the playful sense, I mean that I don't want to work. At least I don't want to work here. Maybe it's because there are leaks coming through the ceiling like there are every time it rains. Maybe it's because people won't stop talking about SUSM's panic attack yesterday. Maybe it's the way everyone points out the obvious. (There's only so many times I can hear someone say that it's raining. And then there are those who passed by while I was getting the mail ready and each one asked, "Are you getting the mail ready?" I know it's a rhetorical question, so I don't answer, and then they hover. They're not interested in learning how to use the mail machine, they're just hovering. I can't just tell them to fuck off because that'd be rude, even though that's all I want to do.)

I have enough money saved for a deposit and first month's rent or first and last month's rent, but I don't quite have enough for all three. (I did, briefly, but I decided to pay off a student loan instead.) I should have all the money I need by the first of February, if nothing goes wrong.

I need a new job.

I need a new location.

I'd like a new state or country.

I want something different.

Test!

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Midland "You have a Midland accent" is just another way of saying "you don't have an accent." You probably are from the Midland (Pennsylvania, southern Ohio, southern Indiana, southern Illinois, and Missouri) but then for all we know you could be from Florida or Charleston or one of those big southern cities like Atlanta or Dallas. You have a good voice for TV and radio.
The West
Boston
North Central
The Inland North
Philadelphia
The South
The Northeast
What American accent do you have? Take More Quizzes

I've lived in California all my life. I guess it was the TV that did it to me, huh?

Comic Book Wednesday

Last night, I discovered that I've been reading too many comic blogs with a feminist slant. (The two that I check every day are Pretty, Fizzy Paradise and Written World.)

How did I make this discovery? When I finished reading the first issue of the Geoff Johns/Richard Donner Superman, my first thought was, "Superman really should have talked with Lois before deciding to adopt that kid." My second thought was, "Shouldn't Lois be with him while he's asking John and Martha for help? She is his wife, after all." And my third thought was, "Why can't the people at DC leave well enough alone and keep Superman as the only Kryptonian left alive?"

A few months ago, I would have complained about the extra boy from Krypton, first, but not now, apparently.

I'm one of the (few, probably) people who really liked it when Superman told Lois he was also (and really) Clark Kent and I was thrilled when they finally got married. To me, it made perfect sense.

Since they got married, I've only picked up a few issues here and there of the Superman books. I often thought that the superheroics, after Jeph Loeb left, sort of missed the mark and tried to ignore the fact that he was in a marriage. The recent stuff by Busiek has been better. More give and take between the Lois and Clark. Geoff Johns helped to write the first arc after the one year later jump and I figured he'd help Donner to keep the marriage in the book. It didn't happen that way.

The only appearance of Lois in the issue has her sitting at her desk working. Superman flies up to her window and speaks with her for a while. She asks if the kid who crashed is from Krypton. Superman says that the government isn't sure, but he has a feeling. Lois writes an article for The Daily Planet saying that another Kryptonian has been found.

And that's it for her.

The next day, Superman goes to visit the kid and learns he's been taken. Superman threatens to zap Sarge Steel's head off using heat vision(tm). Then Superman takes the kid and goes running to his parents for help.

I still think the should have grabbed his wife along the way or let her know that he's got the kid. (I know, she's smart, she'll know right away.) Marriage should be a partnership, especially with a strong woman like Lois.

The thing is, I think I know why Clark/Superman wouldn't speak with Lois about it, she's not the sort of woman who wants to have kids.

Lois is the sort of woman who likes her job. She good at it and she knows that and she loves doing it. She knows that kids take a lot of time and effort that would be taken away from her job. She's smart, so she know that if she has a child to take care of, her work and the child will suffer. She can't be a full time mom. She wants to be out in the middle of the Pacific ocean watching the Navy test it's newest vehicle and be able to write a first hand account of Blank Manta trying to steal it. But with a kid at home, she wouldn't let herself to that because she'd have to be a mom first and even if she doesn't mean for it to happen, she'd resent the child a little for taking away the life she used to have and love.

On the other hand, I think she'd make a great aunt. She'd have all sorts of exciting stories to tell her nieces and nephews. She'd bring then gifts from exotic locations. She'd love them as much as she'd love any child she had on her own, with out the possibility or resentment.

Maybe it's time for Lucy to have a kid and to leave the rest of the Kryptonians where they should be, dead.

699!

WOOOOOO-WHOOOOOO!

I Have No Candy

Last year, I had candy. I bought it at the beginning of the month and nibbled. After two weeks, the candy was gone. I went back to the store and bought more candy, some to nibble on and some to hand out. My plan didn't work, though, I nibbled and gorged on the candy and had to return to the store on Halloween, bought more candy and poured it into a big bowl when I got back, just in case.

There was no case last year. There was not one ding-dong from the door bell. There were no rap-rap-rapping or tap-tap-tapping on my door.

The next day, I was left with much candy, which I devoured with gusto. At the time, I greatly enjoyed it. How often does one get to see how many Reese's Peanut Butter Cups one can fit in ones mouth and still chew? (I started gagging at eight and got twelve in there before the drool got too bad. The secret is to have them all unwrapped before you start and use your cheeks, it's amazing what can be fitted in there.)

Even though candy went on sale late in August, I've been a good boy (especially for being a fat boy who likes his peanut butter wrapped in chocolate) and I have not bought any candy. My mother offered to buy me some when I was in Cowtown this weekend and I declined because, well, it may not have made it back here. Some may have, but it's very questionable if there would be any candy today. I'm guessing very little, if any at all.

Well, all of that was a pointless way of sharing that I'm driving up to the grocery store for some candy, just in case, and probably a pizza, because why make dinner when you're already going to the store and pizza is on the way?

Meeting, Sort Of

We had a "meeting" at three. It was over the phone with all the other WCABs in the state and the people "in charge" of setting up the system in which people can view public records.

In the "meeting," I learned that there are only supposed to be two people who take requests to view files and process them. These two people are supposed to have their own phone lines so messages can be left for them after hours and when they are on breaks (hopefully not at the same time, but this is the state and we don't actually do things that make sense). These two people are also supposed to handle any redaction that needs to happen. My office has decided to ignore that guideline (or suggestion or rule or whatever they want to call it) and keep our current system of whomever happens to be at the counter or happens to answer the phone first.

I also learned that if it's requested, we are supposed to charge people for copies. The injured worker gets charged $.10 per page plus any postage (although I was told to use "common sense" and not charge an injured worker if they don't want many pages copied; when I asked how many pages wasn't too many, I was told I already know). Anyone else who wants us to make a copy for them gets charged $1.00 for the first copy of each page and $.20 for additional copies of a page. (That means if you're not the injured worker and you ask me to make three copies of three pages, you have to pay me $4.20 for the nine copies before I hand the copies over to you.) All people who are not the injured worker must pay with a check or money order. The injured worker may pay with cash, but we do not have petty cash to make changes, so if the injured worker wants to pay in cash but doesn't want to run down the street to the bank to get dimes, he or she has to give up the whole bill. (I'm looking forward to the day I'm handed a twenty for copying 15 pages and I get to tell them that I'm keeping the $18.50 because the state doesn't allow us a bit of petty cash, but that he or she gets a nifty receipt saying that he or she was charged $1.50 for the copies.)

I was told that we are not allowed to ask to see ID because the person does not have to identify his or herself. I am, however, allowed to ask to see ID if I want to verify the person's identity.

If the person who wants to view the file doesn't want to fill out the request to view form, I'm supposed to read that person the questions and fill it out for him or her.

I learned that there are people to contact if I have questions, but not to actually contact them until I'm sure the question hasn't already been answered for someone because the people I'm to contact to ask questions will be busy answering questions. Oh, and I'm not to contact the person who did most of the speaking over the phone and who also put together the packets everyone had (and the new forms we use) because that person now works for another department. No one was trained to replace the person who created the packet (and the new forms we use).

Now that was a productive 90 minutes or work.

Question

Row, is it something you do on boats or is it something you have with your spouse?

Update

Got this letter from JSIC:

I understand that you have requested an Alternate Work Schedule (AWS) to stay until 6pm. I will not approve a request to work past 5:30pm.

*sigh*

9/8/80

Eight weeks ago, I put in a request for an alternative work schedule. I wanted to work Tuesday through Friday from 7AM until 6PM starting the beginning of October. The next Monday, The Supervisor came over to me and said that JSIC would never approve of that schedule. She told me that he didn't want anyone working those hours. She handed me back my request, without signing it (which she's supposed to do whether she approves it, or doesn't), and told me she'd be happy to give me the other alternative work schedule.

The other alternative work schedule is a 9/8/80. That means in a two week period a person works one eight hour day, eight nine hour days, and has one day off.

I thought about it for a while and then three weeks ago, I put in for the 9/8/80, with every other Monday as my day off (starting on November 13th) and those eight nine hour days would be from 8AM 'til 6PM. The next Monday, The Supervisor came over to me and said she couldn't approve it because she doesn't know if the state allows people to stay until 6PM, but she'd speak with JSIC to make sure. The next day she came to me and said she'd spoken with JSIC and he didn't know and he said he'd check into it.

Yesterday, I went to The Supervisor and asked her if there'd been any answer about my alternative work schedule because I wanted to start it next week. She told me that wouldn't be possible but she spoke with JSIC on Wednesday (I think she was bullshitting me) and he still hadn't heard from the personnel department, but he's sent several e-mails. She told me to be patient and maybe I'd get it approved before December.

It's nice to know that the people I work for want to help their employees.

Comic for Today

Because politics should be this fun.

Because I don't have anything interesting to say today.

Επειδή δεν έχω τίποτα που ενδιαφέρει για να πω σήμερα.

나는 오늘 말하기 위하여 아무것도가 관심을 끌 있지 않기 때문에

Потому что я не имею что-нибыдь интересовать для того чтобы сказать сегодня.

Omdat ik om het even wat niet heb die interesseert vandaag te zeggen.

Puisque je n'ai rien intéresser pour dire aujourd'hui.

Blog Post Idea Realized

This may ramble and not make a lot of sense, but here's where my NaNoWriMo is going to be coming from.

After the World Trade Center fell, my aunt was so afraid that she questioned letting her kids go to school. She lives 3,000 miles from New York. The green sign on the side of the highway that tells you that you have entered the town she lives in has about two hundred people. The entire county has about 55,000 people in it. The tallest building is, I think, six stories, but that's three miles away from the school her kids went to.

When I school started a few weeks later, I heard some of the students saying that they were scared to be there. What if something like what happened in New York happened there. And I thought they were crazy because no one was going to crash a plane into a university that no one, outside of the state, had heard of.

But hearing these sorts of things got me thinking. How would people like my aunt and those scared students react if terrorists attacked the US like they have attacked Israel? What would the average person here do if coffee shops or pizzerias were bombed? What if the places bombed were a store that had hundreds of branches in the US, earns billions of dollars each year, and nearly everyone has visited at one time or another? What if several bombings happened at exactly the same time? What if there was at least one bombing in each state?

How would people react? How quickly would people be able/willing to get on with their lives? Would those people try to have the exact same life as they had before? Would people be able to simply go to the grocery store to pick up some milk? Would the people in the cities and towns that weren't bombed be able to move on faster than the people in the cities and town that were bombed, or would they constantly be waiting for the other shoe to drop?

What would the government do? If the multibillion dollar company began failing, would they bail it out? Would stores start placing metal detectors at the doors? Would government security be provided for the stores? Would people be screened before they could enter a store to buy some ice cream? Would only a limited amount of people be allowed in at a time? (At the time, I wondered if the government would start looking at passports to get into the US from Canada or Mexico, but since that's starting at the end of this year I no longer have to speculate.)

So, I've been wondering these sorts of things for about five years, but I couldn't figure out how to use them (other than log on to some terrorist website and say, "Hey, guys, I have a suggestion..." but that didn't seem like a smart thing to do). Last month, I figured out how I can use them. Looking at all the thoughts now, it would probably make for a decent political thriller, but that's not my sort of thing (Okay, I enjoy watching political thrillers, but I don't think I could write one, at all.) and it seems like the usual way an idea like this would go.

Late last month, I figured out how to use this stuff and make it a real human story, how to make it about someone more than about something. I filed it away in my brain and assumed that I'd never write it. A couple of weeks ago, I was reading a blog that mentioned the writing month and, after much hemming and hawing, I decided that this would be the place to get this out of me.

I only hope it works.

Because My Brother is Brilliant (Sometimes)

I had to share these.



This last gets pretty big, if you click it.

Go and see some (but not enough) of his art on his MySpace page.

An Idea For a Blog Post

I've been having trouble writing the things that I want to be writing here. Mostly stuff about comics (especially the JSA, apparently there are some comic fans (more specifically they're DC comic fans) who don't get it) and some horrible news about one of my favorite TV shows and the general loathing I have toward my job and, by extension, my life right now. Also, there are two letters that I should really respond to right now (I should have responded to one last week, actually). I can't/don't, for some reason.

In my private stall this afternoon, I was pondering the reasons for the lack of motivation. Am I just lazy? Do I have nothing to say? Am I trying to save writing for NaNoWriMo? Which I thought was silly. You can't save writing, can you? Maybe you can. Maybe you want to write, but don't and that need to write just builds up inside of you until, in a fluffy of activity, you churn out four long blog posts and a rough draft for a short story and an outline for a screenplay in on day. What I really mean is that I can't save up writing. If I don't do it, it just disappears. Gone. Forever gone.

That led me to thinking about my idea for my NaNoWriMo and how I haven't written anything down. I haven't written sketches about the main characters, not even their names. I haven't outlined the main points the plot should hit. I haven't even come up with a title. Should I be doing these things? Is it cheating? It won't be part of the finished product, so I could do it, right?

And then I was wondering if I should just share my idea here. I'm going to be seeing many of the people who read this stuff on a semi-regular basis on Saturday and I expect that at least one person, who isn't a parent, to ask me about it. (Although he could be distracted by the goings on, and even if he's not distracted by the goings on he's usually easy to distract with certain topics.) Maybe I should head off any questions and just write about my idea here.

That's when some jackass voice said not to. Said that I should keep it a secret. Why keep it a secret? The only person I (sort of) know who's doing this madness as well has her own ideas and would never use mine. So, what's the point of keeping mine secret.

The jackass voice had no response to that.

So, guess what I'm going to do! Tomorrow, though, because it's almost time to go and I'm going to see a movie tonight.

And They Have A Plan.

(from TV Squad originally, but I picked it up at Blog@Newsarama)

Election Coming

I voted last night. (Absentee!) Filled in several bubbles completely, leaving no white areas, with a number two pencil.

I voted for the weasel, not the block of wood because I'm hoping that the celebrity of the block of wood will wear off in the next eighteen days and the people of this state will realize that the block of wood hasn't been much of a leader. In nineteen days I expect to have my hopes crushed.

I really want to get into this whole thing, especially the history of all of this and then the dumbest move ever for decreasing the state's debt. (I do not look forward to the day that those bonds come due. I guess cutting spending and increasing taxes just wasn't the way to go if you want to keep your popularity up and not actually govern.)

I can't get into it, though. I don't have the time and I can't conjure up the words to properly express my vehement repulsion at the ignorant voting masses.

I used to be one of those people who believed that everyone should vote; now I'm a person who thinks that only people who go out of their way to become informed about the elections should be allowed to vote, but if that happened, I guess no one would be allowed to vote in the US of A.

Mark Foley

Bill Maher's take on it.

And I quote:

Read the labels on your food. It turns out the healthiest thing you can put in your body is Mark Foley's penis. He was probably the first fruit those pages ever came into contact with that wasn't drenched in pesticide.

(via Mark Evanier's blog)

I'm not saying that Foley was right, but at least those boys are still alive.

Out of Context Quote of the Day

"Are grand balls just for the sake of showing off that important?"

From this comment to this blog post.

Yes, I do feel like a snickering child today.

I'm Nervous

Because I signed up.
Why don't you sign up, too?

Interrupted!

Since my writing about comic books was interrupted by work, I'm just going to link a bunch of comic strips that I thought were funny.

Bob The Angry Flower: The Cult of Skaro (What can I say, Daleks are awesome.)

How To Be Happy: Importance of Mood

From the creator of Cat and Girl: Mr. Smarty Pants

Real Life Comics: Lord of the Rings: The Abridged Version

Cat and Girl: They're Both Right

Diesel Sweeties: Fifty States, Fifty Slogans

ShortPacked!: The Future of Fandom

Thanks

First, thanks everyone who wrote comments on last Friday's post. I meant to turn comments off because I had no clue what might be written. It's nice to know that the 'net isn't just full of assholes who should be out buggering roosters.

Second, I'm glad none of you used the s-word. It's a word that most people use to dismiss.

Third, after reading the comments, I think I need to clarify. I know the basics of going up to people and speaking and I'm not afraid of making an ass of myself in front of anyone. (Probably half of what I say makes me come off as a jackass.) What I meant by asking "how do people do it?" is how do people physically speak around people they don't know.

When I want to speak with someone at a party, or something, and I don't know the person, I walk up to him or her and open my mouth and nothing comes out. I physically can not speak. When a person I don't know says something to me, I can answer, but it's usually short and sort of dismissive, like the example from the comic shop.

That's all. Tomorrow, something more light-hearted.

I don't know how to deal with people.

Example: I picked up my comics yesterday and as I was paying, Chris, who is spotty at remembering my name for reasons that will soon become clear, asked me what I was doing. Here's the perfect moment to try and make a friend, right? He likes comics and I like comics. Sometimes even the same comics. (Last week he seemed genuinely happy to see me picking up 52, American Splendor, True Story, Swear To God, and some Legion of Super-Heroes back issues and said that my stack that week looked exactly like his. I made a comment about him already having the Legion issues. He said something about trades. I left.) What do I say? I told him I'm going to try and gets lots of sleep. He laughed. I smiled and left. When I got out to the street to cross, I realized that I'm a real asshole and maybe it would have been nice to geek-out for a while with an actual person in person rather than occasionally spout off here or throw out two sentences on another blog or hope to see my brother (HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAH!).

So, I'm wondering how do people do it? How do they just start talking to someone they hardly know? How do they go around posting huge comments on blogs of people they've never met?

I haven't, and this may be hard for some people out there to believe, made a friend without the help of a friend since the fourth grade. That's, shit, eighteen years ago. The really great friends I made in high school I met because one of my elementary friends had infiltrated another group and had decided to pull me in with him. (I'm still not sure why. Especially since he went a different direction soon after.) For that, I'll always be grateful because I still see and e-mail some of those people several times a year.

*sigh*

Also, Tuesday was the birthday of someone who was my best friend for years and years. This was the first time, ever, that I didn't send a birthday greeting via e-mail or as a card. I haven't seen this person in over a year. I don't know why I didn't do it.

Lies?

I want to be six to eight inches taller. The fat on my body converted to muscle. I'll go to the gym everyday, but only to spend an hour or so to keep myself toned. I want to look good, but not like I'm trying to look good. I should look effortlessly good. My jaw is better defined, more square, and my eyes are perfect so I won't ever need glasses. I want to be taller than nearly everyone out there so they all have to look up at me when we're standing around talking. I want to look good in and out of anything.

I want to spend ten minutes every morning carefully mussing my hair with a variety of products. It should look similar to the carefully mussed hair of guys appearing on TV and in magazines. When it gets longer, I'll use product to place the bangs in such a way that they constantly look like their going to fall in my eyes, but I can be confident that nothing will fall in my eyes.

I want to go to work wearing a suit. Some days I use a belt, some suspenders. Each tie matches only one shirt and they are all full of power. I have a different jacket for each day of the week and an overcoat that stays in my office, just in case.

I want to believe that every idea my boss has is a good one. I just go to work knowing that I'm doing what's needed, what's right. I know that my boss has my best interests in mind. I want to never have a thought against anything my boss says or does. I defend all the choices my boss makes and am quick to agree with my boss' boss because I know that in time that person will one day be my boss.

I want to work at a place that says it's out to help the world so I feel good about working there. Any bad press can be easily ignored because I believe what I'm told. I want the place that I work to reward me, in some small way, for believing everything I'm told.

I want to go out every night with people I barely know, but I call friends. Each night I'll go to a different "hot spot," but only hit the major party clubs on weekends. I can drink more than anyone there and not get drunk. I dance much better than I'm expected to and know all the current moves. I have the ability to charm any woman I see into going home with me, but since I'm a courteous fellow, I only do that on Friday and Saturday nights because I don't want to disturb anyone's ability to do the best they can for their employer.

*sarcasm* Great */sarcasm*

Got this in my e-mail this morning:

To all employees:

On behalf of the Labor and Workforce Development Agency, I want to thank each of you for your dedication to public service and for the job that you do. Your day-to-day contributions help California's workers and employers to be successful and it goes a long way to making the Golden State a better place to live.

Public service is a noble calling and we know that it often requires sacrifices. We not only appreciate your commitment to the State of California, but also the sacrifices you continue to make in order to serve the people of California.

Thank you for all that you do!

Vickie



======================



October 4, 2006, as "Thank You State Workers Day"



PROCLAMATION by the Governor of the State of California

Managing the affairs of the eighth-largest economy in the world is no small task. Without the dedicated team of men and women who work for California, our state's progress and prosperity would come to a grinding halt.

Few organizations in the world call upon such a fantastic array of talents to ensure that its goals are met. In California, we rely on state workers who represent almost every field imaginable: law enforcement, medicine, information technology, food services, administrative support, law, engineering, education, science, maintenance, aviation and architecture, just to name a few. Each serves in a different capacity, but all serve the common good of our Golden State.

Today is a special day set aside to honor the tremendous accomplishments of each and every one of our more than 215,000 state workers. No matter the responsibility, they are an integral part of what makes our state the successful and enjoyable place it is to live, work and play. I extend my gratitude for their contributions towards making California the greatest state in the greatest nation in the world.

NOW, THEREFORE, I, ARNOLD SCHWARZENEGGER, Governor of the State of California, do hereby proclaim October 4, 2006, as "Thank You State Workers Day."

IN WITNESS WHEREOF I have here unto set my hand and caused the Great Seal of the State of California to be affixed this 3rd day of October 2006.

What a huge crock of shit. It's the only thing that I got, that wasn't from the union, about what yesterday was and it wasn't sent until eight o'clock last night

I feel more used than appreciated.

It sucks that he'll be re-elected in November, but that's the stupidity of people when they're blinded by celebrity rather than actually using their brains.

Link Dump, Sept '06

I don't want to talk about it.

Here's Mat Weddle - "Hey Ya" (Cover) from YouTube, the one that mixes in the original video. It's been my obsession this afternoon. I always thought the original version was a lot of fun, but this one seems to have more pathos to it.

The Veronica Mars season premier. I won't be complaining next Tuesday about missing the show.

The creepiness of bunnies yawning.

Two bits about fan reaction to things. One is "Entitlement and the Modern Fandom" and the other is "Fandamentalism." Both are geared toward comic fans, but they relate to many different types of fans out there.

Straczynski and Zabel's Star Trek re-boot proposal from 2004. Reading it made me wonder what the other four seasons of Dark Skies would have been like.

The Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny because who doesn't like to see a Care Bear Stare nail Jackie Chan and Abe Lincoln? It's been passed around for a while, but we can always use a reminder.

A memo that helps to explain why the South Park movie came out the way it did.

Kevin Smith's Career Highlights as told by the people at The Onion.

Guide

I dreamed that the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy referred to whales as "dolphins with down syndrome."

So, TV

Well, tonight begins the (probable) last season of Gilmore Girls and I won't be there to see it.

*sigh*

(I do have TV, this time, but it uses bunny ears and only gets three channels, one of which is the Spanish station. I was going to try for that Comcast deal where it's like $30 a month for cable, internet, and phone service for 12 months, but they don't offer the phone service here, yet, and that means no deal for me.)

I'm really curious about this new season because it's the first where the show isn't run by its creator and her husband. And, although I'm in the minority, thought last season was consistent with its characters (see this stuff here) and was pretty good over all.

The buzz on the show is mixed, some hate it some think it’s just what it has always been. I'm hoping for the latter, but probably won't know for myself until this season is on DVD, but that won't be for another 10-12 months.

Oh, well.

Instead of dwelling on it, I'm going to go and see Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest for only $4.50 and after the movie I'll dwell on missing a favorite TV show.

Next Week: I can't believe I'm missing the season premiere of Veronica Mars. Why can't I just be like a normal American and luxuriate in growing debt instead of wanting to get read of it?

*eye roll*

TMSV came into work yesterday, beaming, and said, "Happy autumn solstice, everyone."

Last winter she talked about the equinox. In the spring she got excited about all the solstice festivals. During summer she said it was her favorite equinox. I corrected her each of those times and even pointed out the similarities between the words "equal" and "equinox" and how "equal" relates to spring and fall, not summer an winter.

Yesterday, I didn't correct her.

It's her lifestyle choice, after all.

Comic Book Monday Continued To Tuesday

Here I go again.

Cowls:
Great for hiding faces, bad for movement, it's just that simple. The cowl can put broad strokes over features of the head watering down the details of a face, but it, by definition, is attached to something else, a cape or the suit itself are the most obvious examples, and that makes it hard to turn the head. It's a bad choice.

Capes:
They may look good, but they'd only get in the way. Heavy material would be a drag on a hero and light material is harder to control and is more likely to get caught on things. Capes can not serve any purpose that's it's worth getting tangled and strangled over.

Masks:
The only way a mask would be a good idea is if it were made to have eyeholes large enough to allow full range of vision with the eyes, with or without goggles. Goggles could cause a problem due to smudging, scratching, cracking, and possibly warping vision, but those problems are acceptable because they'd provide so much extra protection they'd add to the eyes. Personally, I'd go for goggles since they could be made to my prescription as well.

Gloves:
The standard reason for a superhero to wear gloves is so they don't leave finger prints so they can protect their identities, right? I get that. The problem is, though, that gloves dull the sensations to fingertips and that makes it harder to do certain things. To cope I suppose a hero could find some ultra thin material to allow more feeling, but any material will smooth out the hands and make them slicker than they usually are, I don't want to see Nightwing jump off the roof of one building grab the fire escape on the one he aimed for only to slip off and fall to his death, or severe back trauma, because of his gloves. Some sort of grips could be added to the gloves, but that interferes with fingers being able to feel anything. I've worn gloves with little rubber grippers on them, all I could feel were the grippers pressing into my palms and finger tips. And then there are the heroes, Batman and Captain America come to mind, who look like they have leather gloves on, leather gloves do not allow for much movement of the fingers, even with lots of use. I don't think that, in the real world, gloves would be useful for superheroes, except when it's cold, but that's just common sense.

Shoes:
We all know the problem with female characters wearing high heels, right? We know it's stupid to expect someone, in real or fictional life, in those things to jump off of buildings, land perfectly, and chase after someone, right? (Frankly, I think heels are stupid in general and high heels in particular. It's just unfortunate that they make people appear taller which usually gives them confidence.) So, on a real life hero, no high heels. (Although I do like that American Maid, from The Tick cartoon, used hers as weapons. That was awesome.) No boots, either. It's insane that Robin wears things that look like boots. Those are not the sort of things that anyone should wear boots while performing acrobatic stunts and running across narrow walk ways. Some sort of soft, high lacing slipper thing that has a soft rubber soul would make more sense, it just wouldn't last long being treated that brutally on hard, rough surfaces. And then there's the problem with the runners. There are tons of different kinds of shoes built for runners, but how many of them can stand up to running thousands of miles a day at speeds faster than 700 MPH? Going barefoot wouldn't work for a runner either because it would just tear up the soles of their feet because their moving too fast on surfaces that too rough for calluses to build and any calluses that were built would probably be ripped off after the third step because there's just so much force the skin couldn't hold up (unless the person is (nigh-)invulnerable, I guess).

Utility Belt:
Nope, bad idea. To be of any use the belt needs pouches large enough to carry the equipment the hero needs, but strapping those around the waist limits movement. It must be so uncomfortable for Batman to sit down with his belt on. I have no idea what would be good for a hero to carry, but the best I could come up with was the pouch Jack-in-the-Box carries, but it seem like there'd be too many opportunities for it to get snagged or lost, and no one who depends on equipment wants to be without it. The best idea is not to be a superhero without superpowers, if you depend on equipment too much, expect it to get lost, stolen, and broken, with or without a utility belt.

Armor:
Heavy, limits movement, requires lots of upkeep. Unless you're a hero who's going to stand there and hope the criminal runs over to you and surrender, you're screwed. Even super strong heroes would have trouble with armor because they wouldn't want to be so rough that they rip the armor apart. Electronic armor, like Iron Man's, would be even worse because it depends too much on power to keep it running, cut off its power supply and the person inside is screwed, he or she can't even lift a leg and may not even be able to get out of the armor. Avoid armor at all cost.

Comic Book Monday

Over the weekend, I spent more time than I should have thinking about the costumes that superheroes wear. (It's all due to Ragnell and her post at Blog@Newsarama and then the one at her own blog about Arisia's new costume (or uniform, if you want to be that way).) Not in the same way as Ragnell because, for the most part, I don't mind extra skin (although I do like changes in costumes to show changes in maturities if the character is supposed to be becoming more mature mentally, I'm looking forward to the day Supergirl grows up and lowers her shirt). No, I've been thinking about the practicality of the costumes they wear.

The first place I started was with the skin tight spandex. Is that really practical?

For the heroes who spend lots of time in space, I think it's exactly right. A thin layer of material pressing against the body could provide a decent pressure suit keeping the blood vessels in the skin from bursting and causing bruising and other problems. If the material also insulates and regulates body temperature and perspiration, then there's no need to wear anything else.

For heroes who spend most of their time on Earth, I'm not so sure.

Runners, like the Flash, it makes sense since spandex would cut down on wind resistance and would be less likely to be shredded by air moving past, but what about the friction created by the body while moving? Wouldn't the armpits and crotch area be worn out right away? I'm also guessing it wouldn't provide much, if any, support for female runners, which probably isn't a great idea. (Well, a sports bra thing would work, but then they'd have to be drawn with flatter chests, and that's not going to be happening anytime soon.) I guess a special material would have to be made that can't be worn away while running. (Unless, of course, the runners' sweat is also a lubricant that soaks through the costume and provides a nearly frictionless glide.) (An aside, while I liked the design of the Kingdom Come Flash, I always thought his nudity would be a problem because running at those speeds with no support, his junk must bounce around something fierce.) I also assume that runners create a lot of heat, which keeps them at a comfortable temperature all the time. Which leads to...

Heroes who aren't runners or nigh-invulnerable probably shouldn't be wearing spandex because that stuff provides no protection from the wind or cold. Take Nightwing, he does a lot of waiting on rooftops and skulking around at night (or he should, at least), that's a cold place to be. While he's running around chasing guys and doing crazy flips off of buildings he'll be nice and warm, also sweaty, but when he stops and a breeze comes through, his teeth'd be chattering so hard they might chip. What if it gets caught on something? How annoying would that be? (Although not as bad as other items, which will be discussed later.)

The (nigh-)invulnerable heroes who don't really feel changes in temperature can get away with the spandex because if they're not feeling it, it must not be happening, right?

Work is almost over, so I'll have more costume conundrums tomorrow, including, but not limited to, cowls and capes.

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Surrogate Family Syndrome

While at work:

• Are there birthday celebrations which include a cake, singing, and small talk on every birthday?
• Are gifts mandatory when a co-worker's grandchild is born?
• Do "Get Well" cards get passed around when someone is sick longer than three days?
• Does the whole office "chip in" to buy flowers for a co-worker who attended a funeral?
• Does the office become divided over issues about the copy machine, printers, or who cleans the refrigerator in the break room?
• Is there an office luncheon when someone is promoted, transfers to another department, moves, or finds a better job?
• Are you expected to socialize with co-workers outside of the office and pay for your own drinks?

Do you enjoy or become passionate about these any of these activities?

If so, you may have Surrogate Family Syndrome (SFS).

SFS is a disease that comes on suddenly for some people and creeps up slowly on others. People with SFS often don't even know they have it.

Symptoms include:

• Purchasing of birthday/get well/congratulation cards.
• Collecting money for cake, doughnuts, or pizza.
• Harassing others to chip in for any of the above.
• Organizing office karaoke nights.
• Shouting at a co-worker for talking about how certain others never refill the paper in the printer or copy machine.
• Encouraging people to join the "team" even though your office doesn't have or sponsor any sports teams.

If you are not experiencing any of these symptoms, good for you, but be wary, SFS may be creeping up on you.

If you have stopped complaining about the useless, time consuming celebrations and the expectations to chip in for the gift, if you feel the urge to volunteer to pick-up the doughnuts, if you talk about office karaoke night without irony, if you attend office karaoke night and sing or buy everyone a round, or if you find the people you work with becoming the only people you choose to socialize with, you are on the path to a full blown case of SFS.

To keep SFS from developing, here are some things you should do:

• Spend time with people who are not your coworkers: a spouse, a girlfriend or boyfriend, your children, old friends, or maybe even a family member.
• Do not sing at any birthday celebration.
• When non-birthday celebrations occur take food, but return immediately to your desk on the pretense that you have work.
• Do not chip in, no matter what.
• Sign all cards with clichés such as "Happy Birthday." or "Get well soon." If the chance occurs, write "Have a nice summer." and use a smiley face or a heart to dot the "i."
• Never attend an outside of work office get together that isn't thrown by your boss and therefore may as well be a work assignment.
• Always fill the printer and copy machine with paper.
• Do not store any food or other items in the break room refrigerator for more than one day. Make sure your items are out of the fridge every Friday.

SFS has been known to destroy people's lives before they even had a chance at developing one. If you or anyone you care about has developed any of the symptoms listed above, please get them help.

Surrogate Family Syndrome is a preventable and curable disease, please help us to wipe it out.

Brought to you by People Who Think Work Should Be About Work And Not About Creating A New Family That Has More Assholes And Fuckwits In It Than The Family You Were Born Into.

In Comic News

Marvel sure did prove which side is the correct side in this weeks issue of Civil War, didn't it?

To spoil it, since I don't think anyone who visits here care's about the comic, Iron Man's pro-Registration team is going to be using the help of super villians like Venom and Bullseye and that guy with the flaming pumpkin head who doesn't chase Ichabod Crane around and others.

The book tries to be "objective" by having the mother of the killed Goliath say her son was breaking the law, but come on? Who out there (in the Marvel Universe or the regular universe) thinks the team that uses convicted killers is the correct side?

So much for showing how both sides can be right.

(And for the record, in the comic book universe, I'm on Captain America's side because I know the heroes are heroes and even a government trained super team could have a super villian blow-up in a school. Then what good would the Registration act do?

In real life, things would be quite a bit fuzzier.)

Question Asked

99% chance the question has been read by now.

0% chance there is an answer right now.

100% chance I can wait.

50% chance of an actual answer.

Eighteen Months

I remember reading or hearing that 28 is the best time to get married and start having kids because that's the point in a person's life that everything is starting to come together and stabilize.

I guess that means I have about eighteen months to get over my personal problems and find a girl who'll put up with me for, presumably, the rest of her life.

At least my shit will be together by the end of those eighteen months even if I'm not married, right? Right?

Well, shit.

Today is just one of those days where I want to say "fuck you" to each and every person I see. I want to make them all miserable.

There is no logic to this. It just is.

Huh

So much for answers, eh?

2 Questions

1. Is it possible to ask a person, though e-mail, who you sort of know an intensly personal question without upsetting the person?

2. Would it help to first ask the person if it's okay to ask a personal question?

Fun With Legal Documents

So, I was checking out Newsarama, as usual, and I saw an article titled "ELLISON SUES FANTAGRAPHICS." In the article is a link to the complaint filed in Los Angeles, which I simply had to read.

It's much more entertaining than I thought it would be. Here are some of my favorite parts:

Paragraph 1

"Harlan Ellison, a Los Angeles resident, is a famous author, screenwriter, commentator and public speaker."

". . . known publicly as the writer of some of the best loved original Star Trek and Out Limits episodes."
'
". . . Ellison is a well-know fearless champion of artist's rights . . ."

Paragraph 2

"Fantagraphics is a tiny but hostile publishing outfit which both men, Goth and Thompson, run out of their shared home in Seattle."

Paragraph 4

"The interview was characteristically candid, and Ellison provided Goth with a long, controversial and gripping piece."

Paragraph 5

"Specifically, for example, Ellison suggested one would have to be a 'derange-o' and/or 'bugfuck' to write like Fleisher."

Paragraph 6

"These offhanded if provocative remarks were quite clearly non-actionable 'opinions' about Fleisher's writing and its laudable literary origins . . ."

Paragraph 7

"...to have it made plain in the courtroom hallway that it was Ellison's contribution that had saved Groth from a large damage award proved too much for the immature and now furious Groth to bear."

Paragraph 8

"In most regards Groth has been cowardly about his 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned' routine with Ellison . . ."

Paragraph 9

"Groth's First Big Lie"

Paragraph 10

"However, Groth did not reveal this fact to Ellison and Groth continued to receive and happily spend check from Ellison for his own selfish purposes."

Paragraph 14

"These defamatory remarks demonstrate a fecklessness clearly intended to trash Ellison's fifty year long honorable and distinguished career."

"All appeals to the defendants to cease and desist, to retract and correct . . . were met with arrogance, insult, threats, or silence."

Paragraph 15 takes a huge shift in writing style and tone. Suddenly it's in legalese.

Now I don't know much, if anything, about the feud between Fantagraphics and Ellison and I do think he's written some excellent Science Fiction in his life time, but I still think some of the "fun" from a legal document should be shared.

I'm not the first and I won't be the last to throw this around the blogohedron, but the farther it goes, the funnier it'll get.

Task

Okay, give me a useless task, and I will complete it, but I still resevere the right to mutter, "Fuck you you horrible bitch." as I walk around the office.

This Is A Wonderful Idea

NRAMA: Sounds like you had a family that encouraged you.

EVS: Yeah, they always did. Before we could read or write, my mom had this idea to give us all blank journals. And the whole idea was that she would ask us at the end of each day, why don't you draw a picture of what you did today or what you were thinking about today? And she would give us some crayons, and we would fill up a page. And then she would ask us what it was we had drawn, and she would write down verbatim what we said.

Now I have these wonderful picture journals with some of my earliest drawings, from when I was three or four, with my actual words written out by my mom. So from a very early age, I was encouraged to tell stories with pictures.

From the Ethan Van Sciver interview at Newsarama today.

I wonder if I'll ever be able to do anything like that?

Productivity

This afternoon was the most productive afternoon I've ever had at work.

At two fifteen, I took a lawyer's file for an injured worker and began copying what he had so I could recreate the file for us.

Two and a half hours and eight hundred odd pages later, I finished.

When I got back to my desk SHTK asked me the name of the person on the file. I told her. She said it was found a while ago. I checked the shelves. Sure enough, it was there.

Tomorrow morning, I get to shred eight hundred odd pages. It should only take me about fifteen minutes.

It was the best afternoon I've had at work in a long time.

AAAAAARRRRRRRRRRG!

I have Allan Sherman's "Night and Day (With Punctuation Marks)" stuck in my head.

I really enjoy the song when I'm listening to it, but having it just rattle around my brain for the last four hours isn't much fun.