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Questionable artwork and pedantic miscellany
June 29, 2010
Cornell uses the man wolf’s acute sense of smell… to track the scent… of his sister’s blood.

The internet hates the humidity. Once the temperature here goes over 80 degrees my connection passes out from exhaustion, which is a surprising impediment to my ability to upload junk here.

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I don’t need Mac Tonight watching me use the toilet. Nor most people, now that I think of it.

In search of a good fake-mistaken reference for pink hands (I went with “demons”), I thought for certain, –because superheroes are inherently funny and everybody but me knows stuff about them who would thus be in position to appreciate such a mentioning– there was a DC or Marvel character who had pink gloves that I might use. Not because I remember there being one; it just seemed like there was a good chance. I didn’t find one. Not one I could pick out of a crowd, anyhow. I did come across this picture (from this page this page.) There are a LOT of weird looking goofs I don’t recognize in there, and there’s no sense in asking about them all. However…



who’s that oaf next to Wonder Woman that isn’t Superman? MAILMAN? Or is he a train ticket collector, maybe? He does an important job but he’s not a hero of intergalactic acclaim! In fact, he’s a monster for plundering and combining the DNA of Herve Villechaiz and Gary Coleman in an attempt to create an ultimate being. It’s still too soon, Mail Man! Not to mention likely to make your Jim Morrison/any actor from the 1970s clone jealous. Additionally, I used to think Jim Morrison, Van Morrison and Morrissey were the same person. They are all exhibit equally morris-like tendencies in my eyes. I would not be surprised to see them shilling for cat food.


I am also of the opinion that Plastic Man is getting a little chummy with Darkseid and Orko back there.

Oh, OH. ExcYUSE me. Are you two friends? Man, that guy’s so touchy just because the doctor who filled out his birth certificate came down with a bit of dyslexia. That’s even weaker reasoning than


Lex Luthor hating Superman forever over inadvertently making him bald –a condition easily remedied by either of these two who regularly create exact robot duplicates of themselves out of stuff they just find lying around, sometimes while in prison,— which I’m told was largely written/fired out of “canon” not terribly wrong after this story was published. Darkseid’s name is STILL misspelled, so many years later. Whenever I see his name I always think it wants to be pronounced “dark seed.” Clearly he can’t be all that evil since he keeps his bit torrent ratio up. At worst he’s a pointy 1970s roller skate.

And… I expect to be at a hotel before I get this posted so don’t be surprised if I end this without any sort of conclusion.

Hey how about that I ended up staying at the hotel before I got this out because my computer is too dumb to recognize certain types of wireless internet and I’m too dumb to know which or why and thus I now have plenty of time to give you a conclusion.

I do not always make good use of my time.

But sometimes I do.



May 6, 2010
The lit scared him!

Right, so I saw that avatar movie. I wrote something pretty mundane about it but I discovered I referred to it in what I wrote about another movie I saw more recently so I may as well put it here. Unless you have a better idea. If you do you’d better tell me quickly! No, too late. I doubt I’m the first person to make an Ultima joke in reference to it, so may I please be the last?

I like weird looking plants, but they are nothing new to me. I growed up seeing them all over the place, in a very similar context: inside big rectangles I could not enter.


Rygar had floating islands, Chrono Trigger had floating islands, Legend of Dogoon that I SLAMMED last week (in February) had floating islands. I like floating islands but James Cameron didn’t invent them. I found the Spindizzy Worlds more engaging than Pan Dora. It may have helped if my glasses and / or left eye had been calibrated properly; the whole film was blurry. I could see layers, but they were like viewmaster layers; some things stood out but they stood out by uniform amounts, and if they were near an edge of the screen they looked weird. Also, no attempt seemed to have been made to compensate for the darkness caused by the polarizing lines on the spectacle lenses; everything was just a little bit dark. No, excuse me, not EVERYthing…

the bright green EXIT signs on both sides of the screen were at full luminance and at least one was visible to me the entire time. Also, lights on the floor and behind me to the left.
The presentation itself was alright. Nothing that will change my life or that I’ll always remember. As any amount of people have mentioned the story and the characters are nothing new. The angry guy among the pure people who hates outsiders for good reason but that has to be proven wrong is especially played out, to me, though I must admit I liked that character better than some others. You can’t go wrong with bad science men vs good forest men. Maybe I’ll have an easier time siding with the forest men when they’re not all enormous, hostile Captain Planets.

I don’t mind the navies as long as they are presented exclusively as space aliens, with no allegorical implication that everybody would be better off living that way. The na-vi have no art, no individuality, no curiosity for that which they do not know. That suits them fine, but it does not suit me. Although that’s just as well, as anyone with a physical or mental defect is liable to be beaten to death or left to starve in a culture like that.


Which wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing in one example I can think of, but I believe in general it would be. They’re probably closer to harmony than we are now, and it’s good to keep in mind possibilities for alternate ways of living, but there is no perfect society, nor has any ever existed. Perhaps there can be one, but it won’t be like that.

I think the 3-d may actually have detracted from the experience, to me. Without that I could have viewed the thing at full brightness, without stupid glasses, and without the picture being blurry. I found myself wanting to close the less accurate eye, a lot. A question struck me: do I normally do that? Do I view most films with the less good eye closed? Does being prevented from doing that for fear of losing part of the “experience” actually do more to ruin things for me? If I closed my left eye, the right’s vision was clear (but dim). I could have watched the whole movie like that, but I kept hoping I’d suddenly figure out a way to make the full picture less blurry, and so I kept both vision orbs in use for nearly the entire time. I’ve long suspected my actual vision was less than perfect with regard to things lining up in both eyes. If I really pay attention to a thing, I notice that there are two slightly different versions of it front of me. I assumed that was normal. Maybe it isn’t! It works alright for me, because I know nothing else, and nobody has suggested that a certain aspect of it is supposed to be a certain way (aside from when I’ve been accused of being colorblind), because it’s normal and nobody thinks there’s anything to say about it. However, once I start looking through a preconfigured mode of alternate vision, my alternate mode of function becomes clear. I may need to have a special corrective monocle made for myself that I only use when viewing three-dimensional films. I can squeeze my less good eye a certain way to make it focus properly, but I fear that will damage the thing further, and the eye is difficult to access with a plastic frame in the way, besides.

The film was filled with scenes – more than I can remember seeing in any other film – that I have watched – whose only purposes were to show off stuff. Unfortunately, if it looks blurry to you it gets annoying and you want it to hurry up and be done. Don’t you understand, I WANTED to like that. I wanted it to be the greatest thing I’d ever seen, but it wasn’t because I’m a broken human. I am doomed to enjoy less things than others and to be alone while I do it. This makes me sad.


And so I saw the dragon film. I don’t think I told you about the time I watched avatar, so I posted my contextless summary above here… The 3d worked better for me this time because I was closer to the screen, but it still wasn’t perfect. A pity I couldn’t get an imax screening. One person at whom I described my D-related woes after both these movies responded both times “you might need glasses.” Well I was already wearing glasses, they were just dorky 3d glasses. As for NORMAL spectacles, I don’t NEED them if the only thing I can’t see and only on one side properly are 3d movies that use the polarization method. And besides either way the thing would still be dim the whole time.

I noticed that the main human, Wesley or Herbie or whoever his name was didn’t have perfect teeth. Obviously the fat frubby Scotch Norsemen who comprised the bulk of the figures in the movie wouldn’t, but I was surprised that the thin characters were allowed to get away with it. They also were allowed to get away with talking in standard American accents. I’m not about to accuse that overweight people are intentionally made to look funny and sound funny in comparison to “normal” thin people because I honestly didn’t consider that until now and look we’re not even half way through this. So I’ll just imply it for the moment.

The movie did its job. It developed characters, it featured non-developed semi-characters which could be merchandised, progressed plot and waited to bore out most of its plot holes until the height of tension, when I would feel least inclined to consider them, and such and such. It did this without any pop culture references or overt sex innuendo and kept bad-smell-based “humor” to a minimum, which I didn’t know was allowed in animated movies these days. At least nothing bad enough that I felt compelled to make a note reminding myself to complain about it. And so I will complain about another thing.

The music was nice. A pity, since I’d have love to watch this in silence with closed captioning rather than hear the voice acting. Maybe I can get a version dubbed into Chinese with English subtitles. The technology exists, though it needs work before it can be employed without launching abysmal internet memeys. The kid, what was his name, Danny or Milo, he sounded completely bored the whole time, even when he was doing stuff that had my eyes been properly configured to see through 3d lenses would look fairly exciting.

One thing I like about watching cartoons from other countries is that there’s very little chance half the characters will sound like people from Saturday Night Live or Glee or whatever dominant white-people entertainment was hot at the time they were cast. Just in the previews I heard Mike Myers, Eddie Murphy, Steve Carrell and Jack McBrayer, and I saw Will Ferrell and Tina Fey’s names threatened in letter credits for something or another that I was too busy cringing at to hear the vocal accompaniment to. Three minutes into the actual movie, which was a good 45 minutes after I entered the theater, hey here’s a fat dwarf who sounds like Craig Ferguson, who never even worked for NBC. All these people are on or have been on major tv shows. They’ve made their money. Why do they agree to go along with this? None of them are voicing the characters; they’re just talking in their normal tv voices so that I recognize them. It’s nothing new but I’ve always hated it and I still do, whether they’re people I dislike or the alternative. I merely resisted any pressure to go and see one of these productions until now, and the previews tend to be targeted at whoever the audience is expected to be, in this case children, accompanied by adults, because every movie has to be at least PG, thus more ugly computer graphic movies, thus more boring human voices coming out of bright and shiny animate people. “But Mike Myers is doing an exaggerated SCOTTISH accent and he is CANADIAN!” but even that’s a Scottish accent he’s done before this role, and if we pretend he hasn’t, Shreck trash alone has made it more ubiquitous than his actual voice, and this voice has been imitated by people in other movies (this one, for example) and terrible gum commercials.

In the credits for what I did see, I was informed that Kristen Wiig had talked for someone or another. She was also on Saturday Night Live, and while I was able to find some sketches she was tolerable in before I stopped watching, there was nothing remarkable about the way she spoke. I certainly didn’t hear “her” when I heard the voice in the movie. I just heard A voice that I didn’t much care about, whoever it was. Why cast someone like that? Another character was Jonah Hill, and instead of thinking “oh Jonah Hill I like him in contemporary emotionless stoner movies that are utterly disconnected from this” I spent the entire movie trying to figure out if it was Jack Black, who would also have been distracting. However, I shouldn’t have had to think any of these things because the character was neither of them.

Every movie advertised in the lobby was a remake or a sequel. Again, nothing new, and again nothing I’m content with, either. The one thing that is new is that I neglected to bring my camera into the building and so have no dark and/or blurry pictures of unnecessary things. The previews that I alluded to reflected my lack of excitement or mere optimism for things to come. As these tend to come in superficially similar pairs (Bug Life and Antz, Shark Tale and Finding Nemmy, echt), two of them movies were about “so bad, I’m good” bootleg I M Meens without Warwick Davis in them. One was a blue alien (who ever heard of such a thing?) that reminded me a lot of that horrible alien that gets beaten up by the dogs for crashing into the fire hydrant, except instead of being typical and uninteresting for three minutes we get, I assume, thirty or so cycles of it. These clods have nothing on The Smoggies. Also, please don’t make a Smoggies movie.


The color in these computer movies is always the same. Everything is perfectly lit. The rate of movement, the force of gravity and pacing and such are also always the same. I feel like I’ve seen all these places before. Much like with video games, once they went “3d,” –in the rendering, not necessarily the projection– particularly after 256 color palettes were dropped, everything looked monotonous to me. Plus most of the plasma and spread orb guns turned into regular dumb old army guns. Yes, sure, all ye olde Hanna Barbera street corners looked the same and one Disney castle courtyard is like any other, but I challenge you even to identify but a graphic department by its backgrounds these days, much less a specific film (and if you can give me a day or so to acknowledge it because writing this made me tired). And while they’ve had 14 years to find an appealing way of showing computer cartoon humans, nobody’s done it yet. I hate their big chests and little legs, but I also hate them with realistic proportions. I hate them with huge blobby heads, I hate them with conservatively sized mannequin heads. I hate them with little eyes really close together, I hate them with big eyes that allot space for a nose. In short, I hate. I also hate in long. I’m just as bitter and unpleasable as I ever have been, but I’m getting more specific. Once I’ve identified every problem I will bring my findings before the council and they will abolish things I don’t like.

After a decade and a half of solid regurgitation of stuff from before we’re now starting to re-puke up the stuff we already puked up and re-ate. We’ve already HAD a “new” nightmare on elm street. We’ve already had a “next” karate kid. Toy Story 3 reminds me too much of The Brave Little Toaster for comfort. To be fair, I am rarely comforted by brave toasters of any size, nor little toasters of any demeanor. Even when they have wings.

I am in the process of re-evaluating some of the stuff that I allowed myself to be revolted by in the 90s now that I see it under attack by forces yet less meritorious, and this does, alarmingly enough, include that blasted toaster. I also have it on no authority less than a youtube comment itself that some of the toaster people went on to be involved with the Pixar people, but that doesn’t make the Toy Story any less creepy than it ever was. This one has Kens and Barbies in it. Although the apparent Mattel buy-in likely spares us any overplayed “Ken is a closeted homosexual with no genitals who doesn’t realize he’s gay because he’s the only man in town but he couldn’t act on his urges even if they became relevant” jokes, I think the writers should have the right to include such things should they deem it prudent, rather than to be bound by strict licensing codes of conduct. And you know me well enough to understand that I’d find a way to be annoyed even if Mattel granted Pixar a temporary “Ken is gay” license because I already implied I was comedically disaffected by that. I may just be annoyed at the money flow involved, and it goes both ways, surely, with getting existent products into works of fiction that serve to promote them without doing anything that a free non-licensed stand-in couldn’t. Although in this franchise the stand-in itself would be marketed as an original product and I don’t think I could take that, either. I don’t find “toys doing stupid stuff” funny unless they’re MY toys and I’M making them do the stupid stuff, besides.


You think I have any control over this??

We’ve already flipped and dissected every “stupid,” “hokey,” or “sincere” thing about our dominant consumer generation’s youths. My mother was 35 when that The Brady Bunch movie came out. I’m no fan of the Smurfs, nor was I ever, but I’d love another 8 years to not have Hollywuh pretend it knew smurfs were stupid all along and act like that’s news to ME. It could even be argued, by me, regardless of anything to base it on, that the avatarts were space smurfs who just happened to be bigger than Gargamel. Frimbip, Robot Chicken’s been showing action figures acting uncivilly toward each other ever since Seth Green found web pages from 1998 and realized he could rip them off for free but get paid for it. MacGuyver doesn’t even get THAT honor; it gets, “MacGruber,” a movie about a one joke non-parody of itself, with its origin, shockingly enough, being Saturday Night Live. That may even be a less reprehensible approach, but I’m far from optimistic about it.




I personally can’t stand the Robot Chicken mouth(s), particularly the banana shaped tooth kayak that shows up in every character’s talk cycle and



the bright white square teeth that they alternate scenes with depending on circumstances I don’t care to investigate. Yes, I pay way too much attention to the teeth of animated characters. It’s obvious more time is spent matching the mouth to every syllable than any other aspect of the animation, so who can blame me for noticing? I meant that for this series specifically but it’s true in general. Also, the low-budget amusement which should come from such apparently cheap production values is rent asund when they incorporate realistic explosions, bullet physics and blood (and there’s usually blood). Clearly somebody is spending thousands of dollars on this junk and should be held to higher standards than you-tubewits. Robot Chicken is the inexplicably legalized, advertisement selling television equivalent of bootleg Calvin shirts. Except it actually had a bootleg Calvin sketch, except Calvin was actually called “Calvin” and was a murderer and nobody cared. If I put a picture of Calvin acting in a comparatively courteous manner on this website that I do for free, however… again nobody will care because the Universal Press Syndicate gets its property violated a lot more often than the Shipyard Brewing Company does.


That is, I expect whoever is selling bootleg calvins out of a not necessarily mobile storefront on a main street in the nation’s capital is getting taken down before I am. The only reason Eli Co didn’t thank me for alerting non-yacht owners to the existence of their product is because when we spend $3.50 on 12 ounces of soda we expect to get six cans of it.

Thinking back… Starsky and Hutch, Miami Vice, Inspector Gadget, Dukes of Hazzard, Underdog, The Cat in the Hat, Land of the Lost, Bewitched… has there been one year since this rue wave started that there hasn’t been a nationally distributed hip, new, cynical, utterly off-the-mark take that ultimately nobody cared about on an old concept? (And how many of these had Will Ferrell involved? (the last two (if we don’t include Curious George, which I didn’t get the impression was cynical (oh (yes (stop it (when I feel like it (how about now (I’m considering it)))))))) Even the “original” new movies are full of this intolerable attitude. “Guys, guys! Nah. Nih-nah. Nah, ya caaaan’t… nah. Yeah, no…” I’m tired of every movie having Hal 9000 in it. The movie Hal was IN didn’t have as much Hal in it as one Ben Stiller movie despite being an estimated 4 days long and Hal being the single most referenced concept about it. Nobody ever says “hey, remember that movie where the guy floats through space silently for 30 minutes and then turns into a baby for no reason?” Besides the point.

Nobody can crash into a wall, fall off a bicycle, slip on a potato or otherwise suffer a public indignity without this type of character providing an understated “ooh, ouch.” or “gotta hurt.” “Awkward.” “Busted.” If THAT jackass can tell it hurt, shouldn’t I also have the right to? This is why people [on internet forums] hate Garfield. Garfield tells us what’s funny about something kwazy in the most disinterested way possible. Looking DOWN on me for finding humor in the writer’s work. DARING me to laugh at it. You thought THAT was funny? That ain’t NUTHIN oops out of space. I do this sometimes, but I don’t have an editor, much less a staff of them plus ghost-artists who can redraw a joke that I messed up by liking it so much that I couldn’t RISK you not getting it, even at the alternate risk of making you hostile toward it.

Even the music in these things tends to be judgmental. It likes to stop abruptly when something deliberately stupid occurs. “A little help…?” It’s not enough that the character failed, the soundtrack has to let me know a failure occurred by itself failing. It’s just like a “record scratch” sound effect except the sound people finally realized that by pretending they used analog sound equipment they implied that non-digital technology was adequate and the companies pushing expensive new projectors and audio systems on all the theaters wouldn’t like that. At least somebody finally cleared all the crickets out of here.

I tell you, those things are malevolent.

Next week, I compare How to Train Your Dragon to the Disney version of Robin Hood, connect this to amateur singing competition tv shows somehow and complain about them again.

I’m afraid we have to go with your first response.



April 23, 2010
Haunting Starring Polterguy™

Remind me to tell you about raisins sometime sometime.

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Can that detection system truly be at all reliable if this shady character can climb right through the not-allowed symbol without anyone noticing? Clearly this is not the service to protect your mailbox with.


Now nobody’s safe. Even the trees are after our mail.

Our precious frozen mail crystals. This stuff is important!

Our top story: a snowflake done showed up!

Well it SHOULD. These laws are outdated and irrelevant! The international community is doing NOTHING to address the threats of modern times.

After them, you fools! Are you truly going to let them get away with it? He can’t possibly hit ALL of you with his ninja stars! Arrgh, they think they’re so cool!

Once again it’s up to the blessed corporations of the world to make the best of a bad situation.

Now all that’s left is to proofread this to make sure it forms a coherent narrative. So hopefully I’ll get to that one of these days.



April 1, 2010
Better watch out for those man-eating jackrabbits and that killer cacti. Hey, dude.

You agree with me that 1 am is way too late for the idiots a block over from me to be blasting corny music all over the place, don’t you?

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

Dear loyal bimshwel customers: I’m deadHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH APRULFOOOOUHAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHG I’VE BEEN SHOT


HA HA NO I HAVEN’T!GOTCHA THAT TIME AYPRALLL FOOOOOOOOHHHHHHNOOOOO I’VE BEEN SHOT AGAIN!

NOPE NOT REALLY! HA HA HA HOOOGOSH DEAR FLOOPITY I’VE LAUGHED SO HARD I’VE CAUSED MYSELF
MORTAL INJURY NO I HAVEN’T

HA HA HA HO NOW IS THE TIME WHEN I LAUGH NO IT ISN’t YES IT IS HA HA HA H


And now I am sad.
YES INDEEDNO NOT REALLY


 
 



November 23, 2009
Tonight’s a jazzy night

Ha, I finally get people to look at this page and then I disappear for a week and a harf. Ha, I laugh at my own remarks that aren’t even jokes. You will believe there are still moderately expensive hotel rooms in this country without easily accessible internet. You will also believe that I never needed an excuse that good. Here, have a fox at war. Nevermind why, for the moment.


You may be pleased to know I actually had this done last Tuesday but couldn’t be bothered to make even as lazy an update as this out of it. Also, I only realized now after printing this out and giving it to a fellow that there was a big pink streak from where I had moved the edge of the tank bullet (that’s what the large shiny thing is) and forgot to fill in the vacated space. And then I fixed it and for the first time ever saved the little internet version COMPLETELY over the big version that I make prints from right just now. I can restore it from my flash drive duplicate, but it’s the botch that counts. Thankfully, that is not the most disgraceful thing I allowed to happen over the week-end and surrounding territories. That would have been a disappointment, I think. I always bring enough gaffes for everyone.



Some people insist on enjoying themselves anyway.



October 15, 2009
A party guy and his pals make monkeys out of bunch of hotshots at a ski slope

I intend to do something strange this week-end. I am preparing for it. I am also doing a terrible job preparing for it.

Here, then, is some old junk from last November.

I hope she didn’t say it like that

Indeed he does! Verily, this picture of Carson Daly contains Carson Daly.

I’m glad you caught that.

Jeff, I’ve been saying that for YEARS. There MUST be a faster, shiftier way of getting powerful, sense-numbing drugs. Curse this narcotic bureaucracy!

Oh, excuse me. This is from November 70 million BCE. Or 1995.

Well, I’m sold.

I thought that said “never lose a potato.” As it stands, I don’t see how this will do a thing about potato loss.

JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ

I don’t know where the time’s going, but I hope it’s enjoying itself.

JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ -world’s greatest The Guardian Legend password

My eyes hurt.



October 5, 2009
we also have a partial payment plan that has to be explained to be believed

A special message from Jay Piscopo among the comments.

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Page 33 (it’s below page 32) of this.
Hey, remember when I used to post a comic here? Well I don’t. Could you remind me what that was like?
The moral of this story: believe in yourself and you too might one day cause someone else a spinal injury

The page size limit affects me yet again. I do not think it is as obvious today as the previous time, though. The size was FINE when I was PLANNING the thing. It was only when I drew it and started thinking “maybe THIS should happen instead…” that problems arose. Problems often arouse themselves in this way.
Once this “story” is finished, I intend to use a different content-delivery method if I think of one that seems like I would be capable of working with it. I imagine the shift would be considered abrupt if I did it mid-action. Even though I apparently have no problem with taking month-long breaks mid action, ideally at the conclusion, when the next images are posted, the gap isn’t visually apparent. Surely it’s fun enough to track the color depth changes between pages.


I wanted to be like Hergé. As far as cramming lots of stuff into little spaces and having it not seem like I crammed it beyond reasonable protocols of crammage goes. I still do. I cannot. Look at this page. Or don’t, but I’m going to continue talking as if you’ve looked at it regardless of whether you have. FIVE rows of panels. I never even realized the pictures were smaller than usual here until a few years prior to now because the author was a master at what he did. Every little box gets my full attention, as if it’s all I see (ehhh, in the actual book, off the internet, at least). Not only are there lots of boxes, a lot happens into. Herge gets China invaded and occupied, and then the invasion gloated about in ONE PAGE. Maybe it’s a little bit racist, maybe Tintin’s survival throughout his numerous captivities is incredibly improbable, that these guys who start wars just because they feel like it will point guns at but not kill the one meddler who threatens them the most, but that’s beside the point that my drawings are incomprehensible. It’s beside the point of itself because the improbability doesn’t affect my desire to finish viewing the story nor my ability to enjoy it. That improbability is all around us and people are used to it. I need to realize that I can get away with some blatant improbabilities. I do, but most of the ones I set up are, at their roots, attempts to avoid other improbabilities that are easier for people to ignore. Or something like that. I feel asleep back when I used a form of “improbable” in the fourth consecutive sentence.



August 31, 2009
Putt Putt Joins the Circus


Meet the Windows XP install program lonely arrow. You can meet it because it is a person, with feelings, fears, wants and needs, just like you. Must we anthropomorphisize all things? I feel bad about not needing this thing’s help. That’s it’s only purpose, its only aspiration in life, the thing it has devoted its entire existence to being ready for, and I don’t even give it a chance to prove itself. Worse, its only friend, the baby arrow, decided it would be more popular if it got in with the green square arrow’s crowd instead. There is no one to comfort the help arrow in dealing with its unfortunate spinal condition caused from spending so much time awkwardly bent over inside that little circle. I almost want to cry.


I will persevere, though. A lot of people have it worse than I do but don’t lose their heads over it. They still might want to attach a string, though, just in case.


I think feet as the O letters is pushing the gimmick, a bit. Some members of the logo lobby seem to think that any object can be used to substitute any vowel. If anything, this is Giigle, which it isn’t, which means it’s nothing.

On the subject of Michael Jackson tributes two months after his death still suddenly and inexplicably turning up in places where they never would have had the man lived to 180 years of age, I can at least understand them, to some extent. He was a near-mythic figure, most people know who he was, and he did plenty of things they liked. He did things they didn’t like… even if you don’t see validity in the molestation charges, it’s hard to not see some level of unusual weirdness that the guy could have and ought to have controlled, acknowledged or challenged people to accept, but that only became most apparent AFTER his greatest hits, unless we count Moonwalker. It’s easy to keep the various Jackson editions separate in one’s mind for denial purposes.
Anyway, fine, you like Michael Jackson when he’s dead. Billy Mays, however, I don’t understand. He was just an oaf who talked kind of loud and abrasively. He had nothing to do with the creation of any of the junk he helped (apparently) sell. I thought at first people were just honoring him as a joke, but there are those on the internet who sincerely found their lives less full with that guy in the ground. Research into the accusation that these people also enjoyed the movie Watchmen and expected to enjoy Snakes on a Plane has yet proved inconclusive, because I don’t actually want to talk to any of the people I thinking of or learn anything about them.


The Friends and Company, a restaurant, and its unappetizing hot dog sign. Maybe it’s the total lack of detail, maybe it’s the bright primary colors, maybe it’s the too-small hotdog roll, maybe it’s the fact that this is near Friends and Company, but I never want a hot dog LESS than when I see this. Perhaps that is the point, though, since as far as I am aware hot dogs are not served within Friends & Company, and so it can only benefit from making the thought of eating one seem unpleasant.

Or so I once thought; upon re-evaluation the day after writing that, I discovered this makes me not want to eat anything.



June 2, 2009
Scott Stapp wrote the lyrics when he found out that he was going to be a father. His son would be named Jagger.

I should post something here later today that is not about tv shows. I should also stop consuming so much sodium and learn to play a xylophone.

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I did not realize until the second broadcast that James Wormworth, the drum-player who replaces Max Weinberg during Bruce Springstein season had become a reglular member of the band, because if Stomp has taught us anything it’s that you can never have too many guys banging on things at the same time, making the total quantity of members eight and my reference to a “Max Weinberg 7” inaccurate. Although the seven has never been officially designated as referring to the number of the people in the band. And even if it did, Max Weinberg himself was often announced separately from the Max Weinberg 7, suggesting a total of eight people. The name was wrong before. I still think “The Tonight Show Band” is a mundane name, however much accuracy it currently carries. I should probably hide this part, too. Give me a dollar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What follows are observations I had when watching the “debut” of “The Tonight Show with Conan O’Brien” and other stories. It is only here to serve my compulsions. I wrote it in about forty minutes. It was not supposed to be like this. Yet if I do not post it now then I will always want to, and it will only get longer. I don’t need you to read it. I just need to be done reading it.

Aw naw!



April 4, 2009
The Days and Nights of Molly Dodd

I am told that the new These Green Eyes album Relapse to Recovery is now for sale at places where things get sold not necessarily in Connecticut. Remember: I’m not shamelessly, flagrantly betraying what I pass off as integrity to deliver a blatantly commercial message: I’m just related to somebody in the band.

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I used to love the 1980s. Now all I think of are awful songs, the same death-dealing fast food as now but with trans-fat and styrofoam, omegadouches on Vh1 channel plus Ads who think they’re better than the 80s (but are worse!), and bad intentionally plotless cartoons that have been referenced to death beyond death by onlinedom’s least adventurous jokesters.

Works whose sole redeeming quality is that they have better concept art than more recent referenceable reprehensibanality. A few months back, before my 2:am Thundarr the Barbarian (essentially, non-retarded He Man) rerun came on I accidentally saw an advertisement for a new cartoon about a kid with one tooth whose mouth was always open and somehow at the internet the next day I was less than one degree removed from a gang of like-minded enthusiasts who could do nothing but draw pictures of the thing and its putrid single strand of hair and unwashed feetsy pajamas and giant bacterious mouth breathing all over my gag reflex for no reason other than that it was new and on tv. It had “misadventures” in its title (and I shan’t type the rest). At least when the fan art cabal was ordered to draw “Chowder” a week or two prior it was safe for me to eat food half an hour before my daily mistakes (even if under no circumstances can I eat actual chowder). And thankfully, recently there was a curious jump in the amount of people I am immediately aware of and so it is harder to find a dominating theme among the unpleasant things their own awareness recipients have to like. I used to take issue with people who thoughtlessly aped what they regarded as “anime” style, but at least, when done properly, there were solid design concepts necessary to incorporate into that.


The picture I “wanted” showed just two of those heads between a pair of ‘P’s, but I figured it wasn’t worth aggressively hunting down.
And this, my old nemesis. I have many old nemeses. I have many new nemeses. I don’t have room for them all. Somebody has to go, and this one happens to stir up within me particularly boring, non-eloquent complaints. Like so:

I am beyond the point where I hate South Park because of teen-smoker beer pong afficionados that occasionally got arrested who happened to swap meaningless character impressions in between filling me in on just how gay I was and [different] lousy radio stations [than I mentioned last time] playing brief, scratchy voiced dramas from it out of context. Somehow the musical maestrosity that earned Kyle’s Mom’s a Big Fat Bitch in D Minor spot #1 in the nightly top arbitrarily-determined quantity countdown for a solid week was lost on me. I did not understand at the time that merely by being less than two minutes long it was surely preferable to whatever the other candidates were. That was over ten years ago, before I knew this thing was a tv show that would have looked better on radio, and that I hated radio.

Now, I don’t need to resent unfortunate behavior it inspired in others. I can merely hate it because every audiovisual aspect of it is repugnant. It is a disgrace to two of my primary senses and reminds me of disgraces to the others. I can’t get close enough to it to be concerned with how funny or clever it is or was. I’m just tired of it. I want it to go away. It will not. Maybe once it does I’ll look up some transcripts –it seems inconceivable that there aren’t people who make it their personal business to type out every single syllable ever spoken on that program– but as long as those awful sights are fresh in my memory I daren’t try. I remember once I was at Tommy K’s Video and South Park was being shown on the monitor despite south park content on rentable media not yet existing, and a bunch of bobbly south park people tried to stop an erupting volcano by forming a human chain around it and then the bright red lava poured over them and then all these freakish bright white skeletons could immediately be seen floating around in it and it made me sad even though it was supposed to be funny. I remember that.

I hate those round characters with their flibbity mouths. They’re too gross and they do too many gross things to be cute, and the only things grosser than gross things are “cute” gross things. The South Parxists are not as ugly and their mouths are not as flibbity as those of the Family Guys, but I don’t watch anything on FOX* channel so I don’t see nearly as many ads for that, and when I do they tend to be partitioned to include various ugly fat man wearing white t-shirt fox cartoons so there’s less time to focus on one specific unpleasantry.


*although if they keep this up…

Somehow I only realized this year how bad the southern park’s theme song is. There’s an interesting spasm of banjo noise at the start to trick you into thinking, “oh, what’s that?” and then awful voices saying stuff attack. I could tolerate the Simpsons music if I didn’t mentally associate it with Simpsons, but Suppark’s would be irredeemable in any situation.

I remember for a while it was totally gnarlburger for people to create “south park version”s of themselves, and I hated it. First, it’s ugly. Second, it’s obviously so easy that nobody could possibly be impressed who was worth impressing. And third, do you really want to go to the south park? Every person or sentient object there is horrible and they die all the time.

And you might say to me “hey mildred, all your characters look and act the same, too.” Right. And nobody gives a steaming rolodex about my characters! It’s really easy to not ever see junk that I made. It’s even easier to not ever see non-junk that I made. I wish people would stop looking at my junk.
Eh I think I’m done for now.

This goes on, unfortunately. I realized I hated “rock” music over time but didn’t pay attention to how many unrelated paragraphs I had accumulated saying this in different ways, and that somehow this was inseparably mingled with my hatings of the last two decades. It’s really not fair that there’s never been a month of my life during which I didn’t hear any Errorsmith songs or just something about Aerosmith in general. Is it any surprise I’m a failure? How can I succeed in a world where that is how success is defined?



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