This is the archive for 2006. This is the second year for which I have all the posts archived. They are in order starting from the last post of the year and, as you travel down, to the first post. Come and stroll down memory lane.
We'll Take a Cup of Kindness Yet
posted hastily at 7:14 pm on December 31 2006
So no end-of-year column, really; I'm not much good at them, anyway, because by this time of year I can't remember exactly what went on in a given year.
A few "best-of"s, at least in my opinion, are that the best movie this year was Casino Royale, the best TV show overall was The Office, the best new show being Heroes. The best single comic was easily The Ultimates 2 issue 13, the best series overall was (and I am biased, I'll admit) Detective Comics , and I give best miniseries to Annihilation. Although I read a lot of books this year, I didn't read any that were actually published during 2006, but the two best that I read this year were The Romance of the Three Kingdoms, which is about 800 years old, and The Lovely Bones, which is only a year or two old. Nor did I buy a CD released in '06, as I clearly swerve towards older music, but my favorite single was either "Dani California" by the Chili Peppers or "Steady as She Goes" by the Raconteurs.
So, that's all for this year; I'll be back soon, as I do like to write a year-in-preview column. Until then, my beloved friends, I remain, as always, obediently yours...and a happy new year to you, one and all.
The Christmas Bells Ring East and West
posted with a mixture of merriment and melancholy at 12:06 am on December 23 2006
Okay, so, a combined Christmas column; that's almost what I promised in the last post. Except it's one post, instead of two.
I'm already hoping to compile a personal "best of 2006" list...so far the only thing I have is a candidate for best comic of the year, The Ultimates 2 issue 12, for the simple reason that the issue was titled "The Avengers", which made me so happy that just thinking about it lifts me up a little bit. Helps that it was a great comic, too. I will be quite sad when the 13th and final issue comes out and the era...almost five years now...ends. I know there's an Ultimates 3 coming, and I will read it, but trust me; the era is coming to its close.
Anyway. Now it is Christmas again. Here where I am, we have chill, bothersome rain and very random traffic backups that cause one to take 90 minutes to drive 13 miles, as it did to me yesterday. Almost all of the presents I have ordered and bought are were they should be, save for one that spent some time in Secausus NJ before finding limbo in Oakland CA, not far from its final destination...but far enough.
I did want to take a minute to talk about a few Christmas traditions of mine. There are a lot of things I want to do around Christmas, but I don't always get to. Some are set in stone, though. I do make sure I always listen to my Christmas-related old-time radio shows, as mentioned below. I always listen to Garrison Keillor's "Now It Is Christmas Again" and at least one album's worth of Frank Sinatra singing Christmas songs. I like to watch a version of A Christmas Carol, usually the one from 1938 with Reginald Owen, but also the Alistair Sim from time to time. I try to make sure to watch A Christmas Story once every year; whether I get around to that this year yet remains to be seen. It's kind of hard to miss, but since I got the (ahem) Laserdisc of it, I prefer not to watch it on TV, as commercials are irritating. Plus, it's a chance to experience the glory of Laserdisc, which I don't do often enough, despite my fairly formidable collection. How many of you, my dear and loyal readers, can at a whim watch a gloriously mastered Laserdisc of Roadhouse? Not many of you. Certainly not enough of you.
I'd also like to go over a few Ghosts of Christmas Past, if I might. I was set to thinking recently by the thread on the board about Christmas memories. I shared one there about the time my brother and sister wrapped my bedroom door in Christmas paper and strung lights around the hallway. I still think about that one. It was really a perfect moment.
I recall the glory of getting our first Nintendo, Christmas of 1989. A lot of Christmases blur together now, unfortunately, and sometimes I can remember moments but not years.
I remember being very pleased receiving the VHS of Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves for some reason. I don't know why I was so excited, it certainly wasn't the lynchpin gift of the year, but I have a clear memory of being almost absurdly, even disproportionately, pleased. I was 11, I'll point out now.
I have vague memories of early Christmases; there's a very young me and I believe I am playing the Ewoks board game all by myself, moving the cardboard cut-out pieces about gleefully.
I remember the year my parents got me my first VHS copy of the Bela Lugosi Dracula, which I mention simply because it was obviously (as stated before, and often) a life-changing movie for me...to finally have it to view whenever I so pleased, it boggled the mind.
I remember one time, probably 7th grade, getting some comics as a Secret Santa gift in school and bringing them home happily to read...it was a half day for us, and my sister was just starting in college at the time, and I remember she picked me up and took me for Taco Bell, for no other reason than to do it. Because some times a big sister just buys her little brother Taco Bell when it's a half day, and sometime he remembers it for 15 years. And I didn't mind having to wait to read that issue of Aquaman that was in the stack that for some reason had me so intrigued. That was the first time I ever went into a college building, too; we had to stop there for something (what I don't know).
I remember last Christmas, somewhat blurrily, but I do, and I remember thinking that by the time Christmas came around again a number of things would be different; marking them off. I dread change, but I prepare for it in a very organized manner. And I remember being very glad to see Chuck, who runs a comic book store, at the party; not only because he runs a comic book store (he is, after all, the guy who has numerous times sold me cheap old X-Men comics), but because Chuck's a nice guy. And there's always Tennessee Jay, who I only see at Christmas...and, to be honest, hardly even know. He's like a booze-fueled Santa, I suppose, coming out of a cold winter's night, spreading a bit of cheer, and going away again for another year.
It occurs to me that the moments that stick out are usually the little ones. I think they're the ones that matter most of all. We all go for the grand gesture at Christmas, I know that; we want to do just something amazingly memorable. And it's not that the big things aren't memorable, you understand...it's just amazing, the little things that stick with you through a lifetime. The minor gesture, probably unintentional, that means the world at a given moment. And just the act of being, to quote Mr. Keillor, "as close as possible, for as long as possible."
I do hope to post once more on here before the New Year, but this ought to do it until Christmas. So, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you all for sticking with me through another year. I love you all.
And so, until next time, Merry Christmas, and I remain, as always, obediently yours.
Justice Society
posted from the undisclosed location at 11:49 am on December 8 2006
Still no real update. I do want to write a few holiday-type columns soon; one about Christmas past, one about this year, and one about the year-in-review. Oh, and also a look ahead to '07. I'll probably actually only do 2 of those, but whatever.
Anyway, until then I'm filing the page, as ever, with nerd stuff. Here is the final page from Justice Society of America #1, the cover of which is way down there. It's a preview of what's to happen over the next 10 issues or so.
Has me excited, anyway.
That's all for now. Christmasy type stuff coming soon.
newuniversal
posted 12:46 pm on November 28 2006
I've been looking forward to reading this series for a while. I love that they do these trailers for some comics now. I kind of wish they'd do more, and not just for new series or major storylines.
Do Not Adjust Your Sets
posted with vim and verve, but mostly vim, at 12:39 am on October 28 2006
The title of my latest post...an actual post, mind you, and not just a comic book cover...brings to mind a question: Does anyone refer to it as a "TV set" anymore? Or has it simply become a "TV"? Was it ever really a "set" to begin with? Certainly, it was called such. But was it ever really a set?
Anyway, I'm inspired to post about Halloween now, a few days early of course, but I want to give my LEGIONS OF READERS (hey, you two!) time to absorb all the goodness here.
First of all, anyone and everyone who is able to should find and listen to a recording of Orson Welles and Mercury Theater performing War of the Worlds. Do it on Monday night, not on Halloween proper; that's how old Orson did it back in 1938. You'll have a great hour. Now I know some of you may not be familiar with listening to a radio show, as an activity; usually, in our times, radio is a background thing, and frankly I did have to work to really become accustomed to it, but I just love the atmosphere that a good old radio broadcast brings. I've always been more a fan of the suspense shows; your detectives and your horror anthologies, mainly. Of course, my favorite is The Shadow (and I have as complete a collection as one can get); my fondness for Sherlock Holmes, Philip Marlowe, and Sam Spade also leak over into their days on radio; let's also not forget the Green Hornet. As for horror, there was always Lights Out, and I think Quiet, Please had to be one of the best achievements of drama in America's broadcasting history. Truly a fine piece of work.
Anyway. If you're looking for a good Halloween movie to watch...besides, of course, Halloween itself...I always recommend going for the classics. To me no Halloween is complete without a viewing of Bela Lugosi's inimitable 1931 performance in Dracula. Of course, old Mr. Karloff won't lead you astray that same year with Frankenstein, or the following year with The Mummy. This year I am going to have a first for a long-time Universal horror fan like myself; I am going to watch Universal's Frankenstein canon, in order, start to finish, probably starting shortly after I post this. While Universal had several horror series...the most famous being the Big Three of Dracula, Frankenstein, and the Wolf Man...the one with the longest and most cohesive continuity is Frankenstein. While Bela's Dracula was followed by Dracula's Daughter as a pretty close follow-up, Lon Chaney Jr's time out as the Count, Son of Dracula, exists virtually independent of any other film...although it is cool to see him play the part. The Mummy series lives alone, too, and frankly, the four sequels have little to do with Karloff's 1932 original (although they tie in with each other). But the Frankenstein series followed along pretty nicely...it began, of course, with 1931's Frankenstein, continued famously with 1935's Bride of Frankenstein, then into the superb 1939 film Son of Frankenstein, which ended Karloff's run as the Monster. In 1942 the Monster came back with Chaney in the role in Ghost of Frankenstein, and that was followed in 1943 with Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man, with Chaney relinquishing the Monster role to Bela Lugosi, as Chaney had to resume his role as the Wolf Man. Sadly, this was Bela's only time out as the Monster, and to make matters worse, the fact that the character was now supposed to be blind was edited from the film, leaving Bela's lurching and stumbling (but appropriate!) portrayal of the Monster kind of a puzzler to those who wouldn't know otherwise. Anyway, Bela went out and in came Glenn Strange, who brought Chaney's Wolf Man along with him for two more movies, House of Frankenstein and House of Dracula, both featuring John Carradine as the Count, but he never had much to do with the other horrors. Really, that ended the series; while an all-time classic, you can't count the great Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein being part of the continuity, but it doesn't matter because it's arguably one of the 10 most entertaining movies ever made. Fortunately it did, 17 years on, give Bela Lugosi one more chance to play Dracula on film, only the second (and sadly the final) time he ever did so.
Before I move on, I'd like to point out that Lon Chaney Jr. held two major distinctions in Universal horror (and possibly all of horror) history; he was the only man to never relinquish the role of the monster he created (that being Lawrence Talbot, the Wolf Man) but he also managed to be the only guy to be a werewolf as well as playing Dracula, the Frankenstein Monster, and the Mummy...not bad.
Anyway, I suggest you catch one of those. But if you're one of those folks who need something in color (and some are) then look no further than Hammer's Dracula and Frankenstein series. Christopher Lee as the Count, Peter Cushing as the wicked Baron Frankenstein (in their version, the Monster never recurred)...all great stuff. If you do that, start with Curse of Frankenstein and Horror of Dracula.
Oh, and if you're really up for something old and dusty, let me suggest a double feature: Murnau's 1922 Nosferatu, the instantly recognizable vampire classic with what I still think is one of the creepiest movie vampires ever; follow that up with Carl Dreyer's 1932 Vampyr, which isn't silent but may as well be, for the sparseness of sound in it. Doesn't matter; it's incredibly eerie and weird, and by weird I mean "unsettlingly differing from the normal", not as in "what the hell?".
So, there you go. Halloween. It gave me an excuse to spout on about old stuff that I love. I hope you give these recommendations a try; let me know on the board if you do. Enjoy!
And remember..."that was no Martian...it's Halloween."
After All This Time the Best I Can Do Is More Nerd Stuff?
posted randomly at 8:47 pm on October 13 2006
No, I haven't gone all MySpacey and forsaken my first child, the Universe. I still love it best. I've just had little of import to say.
And I'm spacking out because if it is what I think it is...
Well, only a true Marvel fan might be able to immediately know it; also, depending on how the color on your monitor is, it might even be really hard to see. It's there, keep looking.
He is...alive.
Go guess on the message board, if you feel like playing.
Nerd Stuff: Justice Society of America
posted eagerly at 9:39 pm on September 19 2006
The cover to the new first issue of the Justice Society of America, premiering in December from DC Comics. I used to post stuff like this on the board, but hardly anybody ever responded so I'll just go ahead and put it here.
Way back, right: Obsidian (the white eyes in the shadows) Back row, standing, left to right: Damage, Maxine Hunkel, Wildcat Seated, clockwise from left: Jakeem Thunder, The Sandman, Mr. Terrific, The Flash, Hawkman, Doctor Mid-Nite, The Green Lantern, The Hourman. Sitting on table: Stargirl Standing in front, left to right: Power Girl, Starman, Commander Steel, Liberty Belle
That's a brand-new Starman, apparently, a new Commander Steel, and a new Liberty Belle. Damage has a completely new costume, and the Sandman's costume has been redesigned to echo the original '30s version more (hopefully they'll call him the Sandman and not just "Sand" like they had been doing). Maxine doesn't have her "superhero name" yet.
The art was done by Alex Ross, who did the costume redesigns. The issue comes out December 6 and I will probably talk about it incessantly at that point.
The First Horror Movie Ever
posted eerily at 11:38 on September 14
Ladies and gentlemen, for your viewing pleasure Why Not Universe presents, courtesy of Google Video, Thomas Edison's 1910 production of Frankenstein, shown here in its entirety.
Running approximately 12 minutes and 40 seconds, this silent film (once thought lost forever) is certainly like no other Frankenstein you may have ever seen. But it is almost without doubt the first horror film ever produced.
As you watch (and I hope all of you do), bear in mind that the film is 96 years old and that this, drawn from the last print known to exist, was not stored in ideal archival conditions, so sometimes the picture isn't the best. If you're not familiar with early film, be aware that you cannot judge the film acting of 1910 against the film acting of 2006. Or even the film acting of 1930, to be honest. But what you will get is a chance to enjoy a truly historical piece of film.
Here it is. I hope you enjoy.
The Flesh From Satan's Dogs Will Make the Rudiments of Gruel
posted with just a bit of, how do you say, ah yes, the boredom at 10:04 pm on September 5 2006
Current things occupying my time:
* Phish, 6/18/04, with Jay-Z sitting in on two songs, being 99 Problems and Big Pimpin' (which is followed by a great Chalk Dust Torture)
* Waiting for RatDog Live to post the 8/25/06 show which I attended (any day now, guys!)
* The Hammer Horror films
* Reading A Dream of Red Mansions
* Getting back into watching TV, specifically House and Bones
* Waiting for the debut of Marvel's Omega Flight
* Trying to work on my story, but failing that, so making boring "list" posts on this site
So, you know, there you go.
But, before you go: Here's that Phish/Jay-Z performance. Kinda long, takes a second to load, maybe not the best video quality (great sound quality), all totally worth it:
A New Work of Fiction
posted at 8:54 on August 22 2006
The following is a somewhat surrealist piece of fiction I wrote recently. I don't quite get it, and you shouldn't, either, but it was a blast to write, largely because it was done in present tense, so I thought I'd share it with you. Please enjoy.
I AM SPURIOUS (CELLO)
Mitchell is surprised when he wakes up on the sidewalk covered in tomato sauce with the realization that he, a one-eyed college student named Marcy, Paul McCartney, and Tara Reid are the last 4 people alive on earth.
Mitchell shakes the chunkier bits of the tomato sauce of off him and, with a hand from Sir Paul, stands up again. "Right," he says, "what's all this, then?"
Sir Paul only smiles. "End of the world and all that," he says. "Quite disappointing, if you ask me."
"So what happened?"
Marcy rubs the hole where her right eye belongs. "Looks like iguanadons," she says. "Great hordes of them. In the hundreds of thousands."
"Iguanadons, is it?"
"Go figure," Tara says as she pries a cigarette from the hands of a dead man whose lower half has been well and truly trampled. She lights it with a wooden match and smokes it for five seconds before casting it aside.
"Isn't as if we saw it coming," Sir Paul says. "Quite a surprise, truthfully. A right mess it is, too."
"Indeed," Mitchell says, taking off his tomato-speckled shirt and tossing it into a gutter, where it is fought over by a wildebeest and a squirrel whom Tara has named Draconis and who makes a vocalization that sounds remarkably like the words "John Cougar Mellencamp". Draconis allows the wildebeest to have the shirt and it shuffles off leaving a trail of shit and tomato sauce behind itself. As it leaves, it can be heard humming the theme to "The Waltons".
Distracted by all this, Mitchell turns and watches the squirrel run in the opposite direction and says "Right, then, iguanadon. What precisely was the issue?"
"Something about equal rights for thumbed dinosaurs," Marcy says, placing a discarded ping pong ball in her empty eye socket. On it she has written the word "Whig". "So they trampled everyone."
"I hadn't heard that thumbed dinosaur rights were a pressing issue. In fact, I had been under the impression that the iguanadon was extinct."
"Well, see, that was part of the problem," Tara says, breaking into a pack of ramen noodles. "We thought they were."
Sir Paul kicks aside a corpse and sits on a cement block. "I would say that the biggest surprise wasn't so much that they were still alive and in such great numbers, but that they spoke Portuguese. And that I spoke Portuguese. I hadn't realized that. I fought them off with my ex-wife's prosthetic leg and a bowl of chicken fat as long as I could, and eventually they got bored and turned away."
"Where are they now?" Mitchell asks.
"Oh, they're all quite dead," Marcy says. "As soon as they trampled Sam Donaldson it became increasingly apparent that there was no way they were going to solve their problems and be able to deal with the whole blue-squid-in-a-basket issue."
"The which?" Mitchell asks. No longer shamed, he does away with his pants, which smell far too much like pasta. He stands there mostly unclothed and revels in the fact that since his ex-girlfriend Edwina is very clearly dead he has no reason to be self-conscious. Nor does anyone else, he notes, as Tara smashes her head through a window and proceeds to squat in the storefront and relieve herself.
Marcy has wandered off, singing the Slovakian national anthem, and is looking through a rather large pile of cardboard boxes, taking out Nintendo games and crayons as she comes across them.
"Things are going too well, are they?" Mitchell and his blue underwear ask Sir Paul. He glances over and sees a pair of trousers in a shop window that might just fit him, if perhaps they'd be a bit long. Urging Sir Paul to continue, he goes over and, following Tara's example, smashes the window with his head and takes the pants.
Marcy returns with a white t-shirt on which she was written "R. Kelly" in silver paint. Mitchell is quite grateful.
"I think we're doing right well, in fact. We have a race of super-strong and hyper-intelligent cougars building us a perfect replica of Prague in the place where Glasgow used to be. The leader of the cougars…his name is Derrick, by the way, and you'll love him, he's a hell of a fine cribbage player…promises to help us find Thousand Island dressing and Monopoly pieces."
"Quite nice of him. What was this about a squid?"
"Not relevant at the present moment," Sir Paul says. "Besides, we've bigger problems."
"There are bigger problems than blue squids?"
"One wouldn't think so, but there are. Right, then," Sir Paul says, seeing that Tara has finished her duties, "let's get moving. If we make it to Manchester by sunrise, there should still be some cottage cheese left. Mitchell, grab the tuning fork. No sense in traveling to Manchester without a tuning fork."
"Truer words were never spoken, Sir Paul," Marcy says, taking Mitchell's hand. Sir Paul carries Tara on his back as they head into the sunset.
Stepping over a toppled statue of Paul Lynd, Tara says proudly "Folks, I think from here on out everything's going to be okay."
Everyone Uses YouTube, Why Not...Uh...Whynot?
posted gratefully at 10:14 on August 21 2006
Grateful Dead, from June 26 1994 in Las Vegas. The song is Peggy-O, and it's a beautiful performance. Late-era Garcia in extremely fine form. First 30 seconds or so are dark, bear with it, it's worth it.
Ophidians on an Aircraft
posted without a trace of ophidiophobia at 2:03 am on August 19 2006
So...Snakes on a Plane. I've seen it. The months of waiting, of wondering things such as "Are they kidding?", and now, finally, the wait has paid off.
I'd like to use an analogy, but it requires some set up. About 30 years ago or so, Jerry Lewis was making a film called The Day the Clown Cried, which was a Holocaust story about a clown named Doork who is placed in a concentration camp for mocking Hitler. Long story short, it is about Jerry Lewis in a concentration camp. You don't really need to know more, do you?
Well, ultimately, it was decided through a bit of legal wrangling involving a lot of parties that the movie never see the light of day. It wasn't released, nor even fully finished; only rough copies have been seen, and even then, only by a very select few. Amongst them was Harry Shearer, who (and forgive me for paraphrasing him, as I can't recall the exact quote) said: "If someone told you that it was a serious film about a clown in a concentration camp starring Jerry Lewis, it would be one of the very few perfect objects you ever experienced, in that it meets or exceeds your expectations."
I used this more for his definition of perfection than anything else.
Snakes on a Plane tells you right when you go in what you are getting, and it turns out to be a perfect object: It fully meets and then goes on to exceed expectations.
The genius of the movie is the title, really. By not having some ridiculous, pretentious title, you know you're going into a movie that is not trying to be anything but pure entertainment. And that's what it is. It really, truly is entertaining. Because you're told up front that you are sitting down to watch a movie about snakes on a plane, you can release any other notions except "I would like to see some snakes attack people on a plane" and, boom, you get it.
And this isn't sarcasm, although it reads like that to me. But what I'm saying is this: It works. Perfectly. It does everything you could possibly ask of it. It tells you the story it promises, and it does in a completely entertaining way. It never gets dull, it never takes itself too seriously, and yet at no point does it ever really point out how out-there a concept "snakes on a plane" actually is.
And everybody's great in it, too. Samuel L. Jackson knows what people want to see. He could turn around and make a completely serious and socially significant film after this, because that's how vast his talent is. Sam Jackson knows you're going in here to see a fun-time movie with some gross-outs, some jokes, and of course lots of usage of the word "motherfucker". And he's totally perfect in it, too. He delivered. He was a movie star who gave you what you wanted, without fail. That's extremely rare.
David Koechner's in it, too, he of "Champ Kind" fame from Anchorman, and just his presence in the movie is a huge bonus. Kenan Thompson's hilarious, Rachel Blanchard is great as something of a Paris Hilton parody, largely because of her chihuahua "Mary-Kate" and what ultimately becomes of said dog; and there's lots of other people who have their moments to shine. I particularly enjoyed the fact that there's quite randomly a kickboxer on the flight. It also has a great riff on the "male flight attendants are gay" stereotype.
It was made to be fun, and that's exactly what it was, perfectly, and if anyone can't get that, they need to lighten fucking up. I'm just throwing that out there. If you know someone who can't just relax and enjoy this movie, then they can't relax, period. Hell, I was in a monumentally shitty mood before the movie started, and afterwards I was completely turned around by it. And that is why I say it's perfect. Because it did something very few movies accomplish: It entertained 100%, start to finish. It made good on every promise it offered.
Am I saying it's the best movie ever? Of course not.
But it's very much a perfect movie.
Oh, and because I can't possibly let this post end without it: "I have had it with these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane!"
Frankenstein on a Rickshaw
posted with a certain je ne sais quoi at 11:03 pm on August 17 2006
Yeah, so, so much for writing a whole bunch of fresh entries on this page. I love this page, I really do. Why do I neglect it? Because I am a horrible person. A person, you will recall, who wishes to name any potential firstborn son he may have Malebolgia.
I'm hoping that gets funnier. Clearly, it does not.
Several things have fascinated me this week. First of all would be the title song for "Snakes on a Plane" which is subtitled "Bring It". It's really insanely catchy. I had to look up the band responsible, Cobra Starship, and it seems they're just kind of a side project by a bunch of people in other bands, but still, this is one for the ages. It's a lot of fun, very silly, and it has Sam Jackson saying "motherfucking" twice at the very beginning.
Speaking of music, I got RatDog tickets! That's the second thing fascinating me. Obsessed, actually. Well, I've got them, and it's all I plan to talk about for the next 7 days. I've been excited for virtually every one of the handful of concerts I've been to, so it's not that unusual...but right now I'm really, really stoked.
Yeah, I went there. I used "stoked".
I'm really hung up on the proposal for the new 12-planet solar system. I support this wholeheartedly. Even though 9 is easier to remember than 12, I have to say, I want a bigger solar system. For one thing, it's something to lord over your Skrull friends. Secondly, it's just more interesting, and maybe people at large who aren't normally intrigued by the planets. Maybe peoples' imaginations will once again be captured by the stars and the planets, and that's something I know I'd love to see.
A trophy to the first person who reads this column who posts a picture of a Skrull on the board, incidentally. And a root beer the next time I see you. That's my way of making the site more interactive. Two trophies to anyone who posts any pictures of the Kree-Skrull War. I'm bored. You'll have to forgive me.
Speaking of comics, I'm fascinated this week by another fun collection, DC's Showcase Presents The Elongated Man Volume 1, which is a fantastic set of black-and-white reprints of classic comic stories from the '60s, featuring good ol' Ralph Dibny, the aforementioned Elongated Man himself. Now, these days in the comics Ralph isn't having a lot of fun, but back then, his stories were so gleeful. This one's as good as the Metamorpho volume I read several months ago. Although I enjoyed the recent Haunted Tank volume, those were war stories that sometimes got heavy. Nothing heavy about Ralph and Sue hopping in the car and solving a few mysteries. Plus, there's 51 Elongated Man stories under one cover for a measly 17 bucks. Hours upon hours of enjoyment.
So that's what I'm up to. Oh, and I'm writing again...I'm rolling. Slowly, as ever, but I'm actually happy with the bit of work I've done. In fact, I'm fairly confident that about a week or so ago I wrote the best sequence I've ever written. And I've had an insanely difficult time following it up, but that's okay. Don't want to psyche myself out.
Hey, as always, thanks for reading. I don't always remember to say that. Now that I'm done, those of you who don't read comic books may go and put "Skrull" into Google.
BRAAAAAAAAINS
posted presumably from beyond the grave around 8:39pm on July 25 2006
So I'm sitting around the other day, and it hits me:
I have a website!
Who knew? Besides me, I mean? And you, the reader? I don't know. It totally slipped my mind. You want to know why? Because I have absolutely, positively never been less creative in my whole entire life than I have been in the last month and a half.
Even my dreams have gotten dull, sluggish, and entirely uninteresting. For one thing, my most recent dream (that I can recall, anyway) involved me back at my high school, trying to find a place to park. This failed, somehow, so I went home, a trip that in reality should take about 15 to 20 minutes taking approximately, oh, the blink of an eye. Then...now follow me on this one...I pull into my driveway to find that my Dodge Stratus is suddenly a convertible Stratus (I know little about cars; however, it is my understanding that those do not exist) and Paris Hilton is standing there pestering me as to why I have not taken her to the drive-in. Presumably because I do not know Paris Hilton and must have been working under the impression that I had to go to school. So I tell her, yes, we may go to the drive-in, despite my assurance that it was, in fact, raining into my convertible Stratus. And that, my friends, is when I woke up to answer a very urgent call of nature.
Now, there's two things wrong with this: I'd probably never have a convertible, even one that they actually make, at least until I moved to a move favorable climate for it. Secondly, Paris Hilton would hardly be my first choice of dates, especially to a movie. I bet she talks during them.
A brief aside: Watching my sister's baby today I determined that someday in the future I would, indeed, like to be a father; I would also like to name the first male child Malebolgia.
See? That's the best I can do for "creativity" anymore. I'm ruined. You know that? I'm totally out of ideas. My idea of witty repartee involves bodily functions. My idea of telling a story is use the phrase "so he goes" before every character speaks. I'm just totally wiped.
I need something to recharge the batteries, I think. I need some kind of creative retreat. I don't know what, exactly, but clearly I need to be mentally stimulated. If for no other reason than to banish Paris Hilton from my dreams.
So...and let me add the disclaimer that what I am about to type is not a promise or anything similar to a promise, but merely an idea...what I think I would like to do is use this page, as I have way back in the past, as my journal or "writer's block". But, this time, of course, it goes beyond just "writer's block"...it's a general malaise, I think is a good way to describe it. Still, I'm thinking of just popping in here every so often (more often than, you know, every six weeks) in the hopes that if I keep turning the wheels, something may just click.
Everybody, wish me luck...and many dreamless nights of sleep.
This Post is Mean and Evil Like That Little Old Boll Weevil
posted for some reason at 10:03 pm on June 16 2006
When all else fails, you know what I do. I write a column about playing dumb old video games. It’s a Friday, and I’m really too…I don’t want to say tired, but I’m out of energy…and, anyway, this is about as much excitement as I have in me this particular weekend. I’m saving up my energy for the Fourth. Have to coordinate with Boehm to make things go boom. He'll know what to do, he always does in that regard.
Anyway, so, I have gone over once again to Every Video game to amuse myself. We begin tonight with Action in New York from Infogrames, and for those who don't know it, the "r" in "grames" is not a typo. Anyway, it begins with the now very long-ago-and-far-away-feeling image of the New York skyline with the Towers still standing. After that, suddenly, there's nothing even vaguely like New York in any known time period. You pick one of two fighters, who, lacking in-game names, I have dubbed The Guy and The Woman. I, of course, picked The Guy and I was told that I had "to destroy them!" Who "they" were was left to my imagination. Anyway, I'm then floating about, ahem, New York, kind of like an airborne Contra right down to the little letters you can pick up to change what type of gun you have. From there on I think it'll be a standard side-scroller, but it does throw me for a loop and phases briefly into being an upward-scroller. Anyway, it's fun, in that Contra kind of way, but I'm not exactly sure what my motivation is. I go through 2 lives and decided to move on.
.
I move on to Gorby no Pipeline Dai Sakusen, which involves two anime children and Mikhail Gorbachev, the "Gorby" of the title. What Gorbachev actually has to do with the gameplay itself, I am not sure. Basically, though, you are to make pipelines using a Tetris-style interface. Perhaps it is the Tetris connection that prompted the title screen of Gorbachev. I'm woefully bad at this, but it looks like I'm trying to create a pipeline of water to…uh…somewhere. Possibly I am repairing the Kremlin's plumbing. Anyway, this is really hard, although oddly entrancing. I could give you a shot of gameplay, but why bother?
Because I love the Japanese games that I can't possibly understand, I pick Pocket Zaurus – Juu Ouken No Nazo. Now, I had a bit of fun playing this, except I have no no freaking clue what's going on. You're this…well, I thought it was going to be a kid, but then it looked like a dinosaur-faced boy-man thing, I don't know. Anyway, I'm going to call him Zaurus, since that's one of the words in the title. Zaurus here putters around a delightful prehistoric world (sort of…I guess) throwing boomerangs, avoiding obstacles, and all the other things adorable side-scrolling video game heroes do. I pick up some kind of thing and I turn into an entirely different-looking creature. Zaurus is now kind of an eye-pleasing light blue and white combo. Then, without fanfare, I complete the level. There is lots and lots of expository text that I cannot read, but I hang in there. Then it turns out that I have not completed the level but am being prompted to make a decision. This takes me a while, because I don't know what I'm deciding on, but I go for it. Then I continue on, and get killed, and that is pretty much that. Time for a beer.
Beer in hand, I decide to pick something a bit more straightforward. I'll admit, I spent some time searching to make sure the game I pick is just exactly perfect. And to get it just exactly perfect, I pick an old favorite, Operation Wolf. It gives me a larger screen than the other games (reduced somewhat in the image below so it doesn't throw my page setup all out of whack), and it claims to be the Turbo-Grafx 16 version, and it's also, to my surprise, not in English, but that's okay, because I dig the point of Operation Wolf. Now, I guess you don't really need any introduction to the game: It's the classic rail-shooter. The screen slides by you and you kill…kill…KILL! For a laugh, I suggest doing what I did unintentionally, which is play the game while listening to '60s era antiwar songs (which just came up next on my iTunes playlist, purely by coincidence). It's a hoot.
I pick a game called Penguin Kun Wars since I love penguins. It's true. I don't admit that often, but I'm confiding in you. Anyway, it turns out to be this cartoony little cutesy game that's kind of a form of Dodgeball-meets- ping pong. I am entranced by this. I play for a good solid 20 minutes, in an effort to complete the little tournament grid that's laid out for you at the beginning. The only snag in this plan, of course, is that I'm really terrible at it. However, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that, of all the games not already familiar to you and I (like, say, Operation Wolf), it's got to be one of the most fun. It's simple, but challenging. At least, it's challenging to a doofus like me, but I'll take that.
Before I even leave that menu page, I see a game that jumps out at me, called Pikachu Y2K. Now, obviously, I don't think this game is vintage, even though it has that look to it. It may be a Gameboy offering, I'm not sure. But it looks like your typical old-school platformer, and besides Pikachu himself, it bears little to nothing to do with Pokemon that I am aware of, which I'll admit is limited. That, and obviously the phrase "Y2K" was definitely a more recent one than the height of the Nintendo age. So I don't really know, and to my surprise a Google search yielded nothing useful. But this is what it looked like, anyway:
Time for one more, I decide, as I realize that no matter how hard I try this stock-column-concept will never, ever be as good as the first one. I do the only thing I could possibly do to salvage a lousy column and a lousy night of gaming: I pick something I'm really good at. And that would be, of course, any part of the old-school Mega Man series. I pick Mega Man 4 (it's the Japanese version only in that our beloved Blue Bomber is referred to as "Rock Man" but otherwise there are no differences). Now, I'm not really going to talk about my Mega Man 4 experience, because I realized that if I really, really wanted to play it, I would go put in the Mega Man 15 Anniversary Collection for the PlayStation 2 and play it on a significantly larger screen. Now, my obsession with Mega Man games has, at times, bordered on the unhealthy. My brother will gladly tell you stories of 10-year-old me attempting to assault the television set while playing Mega Man 2 and trying to fight that motherfucking robot dragon. Goddamn that fucking dragon, I swear…actually, I'm playing that up. These days I can defeat him with little to no difficulty (stand on the top block and use the quick boomerang!) but back then I was a moron, or maybe a child, however you want to look at it. Anyway. To this day, if you get me started, I will declare that the (extremely fictional) Dr. Wily is, after all these years of living an actual life and interacting with real people, still my lifelong archnemesis. I hate that balding little son of a bitch with a passion and will tell anyone who cares to listen.
So maybe I'm exaggerating a little. The truth is, I love those games like few others that have ever been made before or since, so I figured even just playing one of them for 5 minutes will bring me sufficient old-school gaming joy. And, you know, I figured I'd share a little of that love with you. Now you know why Guts Man is down there on the side panel shaking his fist.
And there you have it. If you had half as much fun reading this post as I did writing this, then, well, I'm actually quite surprised. But good for you, for sticking it out to the end. Maybe you'll get a trophy.
The First American Idol Article I've Written All Season
posted from the undisclosed location on May 17 2006 at 12:47 pm
YAMIN REVEALS SECRET OF SUCCESS
Wednesday May 20 7:14 AM ET
Los Angeles (Reuters) - Elliot Yamin, one of American
Idol's Final Three, has revealed the secret to his
success.
"Well, it's a Cosmic Cube," Yamin said Tuesday after
performing.
The Cosmic Cube is best known for warping reality to
the twisted ambitions of the bearer. It was initially
discovered by former German soldier Johann Schmidt in
the early 1960s. Before his death by drowning, it was
said Schmidt had used the Cube for numerous feats,
most notably an attempt to enslave all of mankind,
which was foiled by an unidentified United States Army
Captain.
When asked how Yamin came into possession of a Cosmic
Cube, he revealed that he had purchased it last
December from the estate of a collector named Owen
Reece, a former lab technician.
"I keep getting calls from a guy named Doctor Richards
telling me that all of reality may be compromised if I
continue to use this," he said, "but, you know, it's
working. How else would I have made it this far on
Idol?"
Producer Simon Fuller would comment only by saying
that there was nothing in the rules explicity
forbidding a contestant empowered by the Cosmic Cube.
Chris Daughtry, the highly popular contestant eliminated last week, confided to Entertainment Weekly in an interview to be published next week that Yamin could usually be seen backstage holding the Cube up in the palm of his hand and speaking to it, often using the phrase "Soon the hour of my conquest shall be at hand!"
When asked what he'll do with the Cube following a
potential Idol victory, Yamin said, "Probably enslave
all of mankind. But then again, I've also always
wanted to visit Bermuda, so maybe I'll just use it to
create a plane for myself. But it'd be a really nice plane."
May 8
posted (when else?) May 8 2006 at 7:31 pm
I almost forgot. I'm really, really ashamed, but I almost forgot.
Today is May 8th.
Nothing special about this May 8th; being in 2006, the chips were stacked against it being memorable anyway (more discussion of how bored I am with 2006 in previous and forthcoming entries). However, 29 years ago, in Ithaca, New York, at Cornell University, it was something else all together.
It was May 8 1977 at Cornell and The Grateful Dead were in arguably the best form of their careers.
To be upfront, while I really and truly love this show, it's not my personal all-time-favorite Grateful Dead show. That came a few weeks later, on May 19 1977 at the Fox Theatre in Atlanta. But it's no coincidence that they are so close together.
Cornell (as it is simply known) gets all the glory. And it should, it's a very fine show, with some remarkable, heartfelt playing, high energy, just generally a delight to listen to. A prime example of what a cohesive band of passionate, talented players can do, live, with a receptive audience.
And, unlike 5/19/77, it's never been commercially released, and so, it's passed on, from person to person, the old-fashioned way. For a while there the soundboard recording was out on the Internet; it's not now, or, at least, not as easily. But it's out there. I can't tell you where to look...but if you want it, I can take care of you.
Mary Had a Dream About a Submarine Now
posted in a bit of a haze at 12:34 am May 6 2006
So, for the first time in a very long time, I'm on Instant Messenger. It's weird. I haven't done that in so long I've almost forgotten how it works. I think I remembered my password simply on pure luck. Well, pure luck and beer, but still.
So, I doubt I'll be much of a presence on IM. I never was, really. I get on it mainly to speak to close friends, but I guess there are a few people I'm not particularly close with who can find me. Then again, looking at my small buddy list, I would say that everyone on there is a close friend, but still. Generally, when I am on the computer I'm either writing or reading, and that makes me something of a bad conversationalist. But I try.
Eight-Sided Whispering Hallelujah Hatrack
posted with detachment at 8:53 pm on May 4 2006
Well, my little counter ran out, obviously. I don't have the issue yet; I'll get that this weekend.
So I'm taking a break from dramatically replotting my Horror Story. The Story has been replotted an estimated 519 times; I keep realizing ways to streamline it, punch it up, and, sometimes, have it actually make more sense. I think the current replotting could possibly make for a longer, yet more streamlined story, if such a thing is possible. There's a further emphasis on character development, so that the whole thing isn't just (hopefully) scary nightmare sequences combined with full-on shock and terror moments (again, hopefully). If I can really get the reader invested in the characters, well, they'll care if something absolutely grisly happens to them or not. We'll see. At least I'm writing again; March and April saw next to no progress on that front.
So, there you have it. It's some kinda update. Hey, at least I didn't put up another counter or link or something.
Be a Geek With Me
posted without enough shame on April 26 2006 at 4:49 pm
Marvel Comics has provided this free html coding for folks like me who want to share with folks like you the countdown until the first issue of the miniseries "Civil War" hits stores. I'm a sucker for Marvel Comics events and free coding with nifty countdowns, so here goes:
Clicking takes you the Marvel site where you can literally overload your synapses with sales pitches for all the comics involved. If you're interested, hey, pick it up. If not, well, I'll probably tell you about it the next time I've drank too much anyway.
My Thoughts Exactly
studiously posted at 6:56 pm on April 20 2006
Slate writer Hua Hsu on "My Humps" by the Black Eyed Peas:
"It is also proof that a song can be so bad as to veer toward evil."
Click here to read the entire article, entitled "Notes on Humps: A song so awful it hurts the mind".
Overheard
posted with amusement at 7:25 on April 15 2006
Overheard on a recording of the Grateful Dead's performance from March 3 1968 on Haight Street in San Francisco, from an anonymous person presumably in the audience:
"LBJ, I'm fucking for peace!"
Classic.
Big Black Furry Creature From Mars
posted with panache at 11:28 pm on April 10 2006
First of all, let's welcome Swobobafett back to the web as something other than just a forum participant. He's got himself a spiffy little MySpace. It's over there under the "I Have Friends" section. Check it out. He'll thank you for it.
You know what I like about MySpace? It encourages Citizen Informants with its little "report inappropriate content" link. The ability to turn in your neighbors with ease is the kind of can-do American spirit I always like to see.
So, anyway, seeing him join the zeitgeist and reading the personal nature of Erin and John's blogs...see, guys, I do read them...I was wondering if maybe I shouldn't go ahead and be a little bit more personal on here. I mean, what do I talk about here, anyway? The last article was about my paycheck. Before that it was probably about the Grateful Dead. I don't know. And video games. Usually comics come up, too. So why not just write whatever the hell comes to mind whenever?
Although I imagine I would still need to be inebriated to write poetry. But some things are just a matter of practicality.
So what's on the mind here in the Universe tonight? Well, this great GD show from 7/29/74 in Landover, MD, for one...sweet "Let It Grow". Thanks to Dan (who still lacks a more concrete webpresence, a la Swobobafett's MySpace) for that one. And, no, Dan, I'm not trying to advocate you getting your own MySpace, because I know that's not your bag.
Speaking of MySpace still, I've been meaning to recommend a band...a band besides Pudding Capacity, because for pity's sake, why aren't they your favorite band yet? Go listen to "Head Trauma" and "Ribby Rib" at least...unless, of course, you hate fun.
What else? I got the penultimate issue of Infinite Crisis. For those close to me who haven't heard me talk about Infinite Crisis, well, you're probably very lucky, that's all, or know when to ignore me. Regardless, it's a storyline that happens to be the culmination of my two decades of DC comics readership (seriously...the events were first set in motion in 1985). So, that's good. Another month and it'll be over, which is actually kind of a shame because I've really looked forward to each issue.
I've got a 100 pack of blank CDs coming tomorrow and I've got tons of Grateful Dead shows that need to be put on CDs (and a bunch of Phil Lesh shows, and a handful of Phish shows, too). I'm looking forward to it. Otherwise, I feel like crap, have for a few days, and don't know why.
Is that bloggy enough, you think?
I should probably just go back to not updating, huh?
Diamond as Big as the Ritz
posted with glee at 9:21 pm on March 24 2006
So I've been back at work for some 5 weeks now, and guess what finally happened today?
I got paid.
Yeah, it took nearly 3 full pay periods for me to see a dime of the money I've been earning. This is the problem with working for a bureaucracy that inexplicably refuses to collapse under the weight of its own inefficiency. But, whatever, I'm not angry or anything; after all, I got paid.
Which means, luckily, that I will have ample funds to continue the site; the meager fee I am asked for each month in order to bring you this ad-free bitch-fest (which remains in its seventh year!) was seeming very large to a person formerly flat broke. But, now that I've received a normal man's paycheck, it is back to being the pittance it had been for all the time this site has been ad-free (1 year and counting). Which is nice, because even if I neglect it for weeks on end, this site is one of my simpler pleasures...and it has been for (ahem) seven years.
Why am I so proud of the seven years thing? I don't know. I guess the nature of the internet is so ephemeral that sites like mine started when mine did must have long since come, gone, and been relegated to the junkheap of hobby history.
It wasn't my first site, you know; before this, I had made a very crude series of sites on Tripod. The first was general purposes, detailing my love of Frank Sinatra records, the Travis McGee series by John D. MacDonald, and so forth. Then there was one detailing my love of Hong Kong action movies like John Woo used to make; the emphasis there is on used to make--the heyday of the Hong Kong run-and-gun action flick is past, so far as I am aware. And you still can't get fucking Hard Boiled on DVD. I mean, what the hell. Finally, there was a very lame but certainly enthusiastic page expressing my love for the Halloween series of films. I continue to cherish the original Halloween as one of my favorites movies, but I would never run a site about the series these days. Although I will say they'd better not get the idea to remake the original. I'm just saying. They're did it with Texas Chainsaw Massacre and they're doing it with Friday the 13th, but I think the first Halloween, unlike those movies, remains nearly perfect even almost thirty years on.
Anyway. I really, really wanted to update the page, and now I have, so I bid you adieu until I actually have something to talk about.
Are You Asking For a Challenge?
posted from the undisclosed location at 13:37 on 14 March 2006
These seem to be going around, so I made one for myself and am sharing it here with all of you. This is my Cyborg Name, decoded. Quite frankly, I love it.
I also suggest doing a monster name for yourself, while you're at it.
The "Nine Days Since the Last Update" Update
posted 7:59 pm on February 28 (or, as I like to call it, March 0) 2006
I felt I was neglecting my page, so here we are.
As we all are in the throes of wild celebration for Year Seven of the Golden Enlightment Era (or, as it is more commonly known, Year Seven of this website), it occured to me today the changes that have swept the internet since I started.
For one thing, here is a handy list of popular websites that my site is older than:
Did you know that? Well, you do now. That's right, Why Not started in some form or other waaaay on back in 1999. That's two centuries worth of excitement!
When I started this site, it looked really crappy...oh, well, okay, let's not go there. Sometimes seven years doesn't change anything. Damn.
Anyway. Just thought I'd mention, yet again, that I've been at this for seven years. So...there.
I'm a Song From the Sixties
posted...what's it say?...2:15 am on February 19 2006
So, okay. I just read that this year at Bonnaroo a group called Oysterhead is performing. That group consists of Trey Anastasio of Phish, Les Claypool of Primus, and Stewart Copeland of The Police. Wow. I want to hear that.
That's all.
It Must Be the Weekend
posted at 12:34 on February 18 2006
It seems a little early to be reviving this gimmick, I know, but I continue to be bored and just a wee bit stricken with writer's block. So I'm playing video games. Again. And writing a column about it. Again. You try writing a goddamned book. It's not that easy.
This week: Fully Illustrated!
First up this week is Bouken Danshakan Don Sunheart Hen, apparently from the late and lamented TurboGrafx 16 system. There's a story here, but it�s all in Japanese, which I have not learned to read in the past week. Therefore, all I can tell you is that you fly a ship over what looks like Tokyo (it's actually quite nice looking). On the first stage, after fighting various bad-guy ships and a few weird things that look like upper-lips with eyeballs grafted to them, you reach the level boss, the Giant Red Baby With a Spinal Cord Made Out of Eyeballs Whose Head Detaches At Will (how cliche!). Clearly the programmers were on mescaline. Seriously, though, this is one tough Giant Red Baby With a Spinal Cord Made Out of Eyeballs Whose Head Detaches At Will, but I was enjoying this game, so I kept at him. I never did beat him, so about 8 minutes in I said to heck with it. I am sure the Giant Red Et Cetera will haunt me in my dreams tonight.
I tried to play an arcade game called Boot Hill, but it begins with the phrase "game over" and I could not get past that. Therefore, I have declared it the Hardest Game Ever Made.
I'd be a fool if I passed up an opportunity to play Burger Time. I'm not as good at this as I used to be; or maybe it's trying to play it with a keyboard. I don't know. I just know that I used to die less in this game. Still a hell of a game, though. The classics don't die.
Incidentally, I've spent a lot of time this week playing various NES versions of Jeopardy, but there's really nothing to review, is there?
Next up had to be the alleged NES game, Cheetah Men II. There was no game called Cheetah Men I to speak of. Anyway, you�re told that some guy called Doctor Morbis has created a new "subhuman" and it is out to stop the Cheetah Men. Stop them from what, exactly, is never said. So, I guess, as a loyal Cheetah Man you grab your crossbow and walk around. The Cheetah Men are a flimsy lot, because they die at the drop of a hat.
Only an asshole would pass up a chance to play Konami's Getsufuu Maden. In this adventure, you walk through a finely-cut hedge maze and meet an old crone who tells you that you are, in fact, in Hell, and your mission is to retrieve your family's "great hadouken". But of course! Why didn't I think of that? Anyway, this is a classic walk-left-and-kill game. I loved it, really, I played it for a solid 15 minutes, which is a lot longer than I usually stick with these things. Any classic, old-school child of the NES will at least get a kick out of some of the weird shit floating around in those Hell-caves knocking you into pits.
Because clearly I hate myself, I had to try the other Hello Kitty game, Hello Kitty World. In this one, Hello Kitty has to haul ass to the left part of the screen, because it's scrolling automatically. Balloons are involved, and I guess Kitty has to use them to float by obstacles. Woe betide you if you should accidentally hit the button that releases the balloons, unless, of course, you can figure a way to get more, which I could not. Every time I went for another balloon, it would pop. Eventually, I figured I needed to hold on to the ones I had for dear life. I don�t get it. Did I mention that Hello Kitty lives in a nightmare world of open pits and sentient flames? What the hell? Anyway, I'm happy to report that there are no more Hello Kitty games for me to subject myself to.
I could hardly skip playing Hokuto No Ken 2: Seikimatsu Kyuuseishu, could I? Of course not. Again, not knowing the story, I finally decided to make one up: You are trapped in a desert that is, in fact, a giant gay fetish bar. You have a punch that makes men shatter like glass and a kick that sends them hurtling into space. You decide that you will punch and kick your way through the place, despite the fact that you fit in there just fine. Clearly, you're pissed. Let's say you play the bad guy this time out. Yeah!!! And the fetishists were just minding their business in their giant outdoor desert bar and you came along out of nowhere and decided that their bar had to become a giant kung fu bar instead. Yeah, that's a good story.
Going back to what I know best, I played X-Men. I'd basically forgotten this, but it did come back to me. It's hard as crap and doesn't look that good, but on the plus side you can choose your X-Man from Wolverine, Cyclops, Storm, Colossus, Iceman, and Nightcrawler. You even get to lug a partner into battle with you. First I played a Danger Room level as Wolverine with Cyclops as my partner, and then got into a fight of some kind as Colossus with Iceman as my partner. Then I got bored, because it's really not a great game, much as I hate to say it.
So, yeah, I know, this one isn't as funny as last time. I know I'm beating a potentially good gimmick into the ground. I don't think you get exactly how bored I am. But that's fine, I go back to work on Tuesday, so that I can sit there all day waiting to get home so I can get on Every Video Game and play some Adventures of Lolo.
Until next time, I'm going to watch some TV. Or something.
Boogie On
posted on February 17 2006 at, like, I dunno, maybe 1:26 am
I had written a fairly long and uninteresting column, but I took it down. I didn't like it. My right. It's hard to follow up the widespread critical acclaim I received for my last column, so I figure, why bother.
Started working on a new concept for a different book. A little bit more sci-fi-like than I'm maybe comfortable with writing, I don't know. It's a neat enough idea, I guess, one of these "alternate history" stories. It's harder to do than I'd imagine. If you're going to have a world that's clearly supposed to be earth's past, but having evolved in a different way, you kind of have to say why. I didn't really feel like it in the bit I wrote tonight, but I did. I'm also afraid it might come off as having a message it really doesn't. The problem with so much sci-fi is that it tends to veer towards being anti-technology, which I am not. Frankenstein, I guess, is kind of an example. There's stuff in Asimov's robot stories, too, but not a whole lot, because I think Asimov supported the technological advance. Smart man, that Isaac.
I'm considering maybe just throwing it out there without a definite setting of time or place. I don't want too much of it to be futuristic, and, in fact, in the alternate history version of the story it's some 60 to 70 years ago, but in a vastly different timeline. But I may just write it a while with no definitive setting, and see where it goes. Maybe at the end I'll do some big reveal. I don't know. It might be fun to play with those kooky ideas some folks have about the distant past...these crazy Atlantis-related theories about ancient civilizations far more advanced than our own. I don't buy that for a second, but it does make for good fantasy.
It's funny, the hang-up I'm having with my horror story is that I want it to have more of a human aspect. I'm enjoying having the characters just talk and interact and all, so that I'm not really advancing the plot. Nobody's going to want to read that, of course. Sometimes I just like writing dialogue that's mundane. It's good practice, I guess; you can't gauge how your characters would talk in their extraordinary situations if you don't know how they'd talk in the ordinary ones. So sometimes it helps to set a minute aside and have them just talk about their breakfast, or their sofa, or the clouds, or some kind of bullshit. This wouldn't go into the finished product, of course, this is just for reference.
Since reading The Romance of the Three Kingdoms I seem to want to tie this horror story into that. For a long, long time there's been a major event in the storyline that takes place in China's past...I figured maybe setting it during the Three Kingdoms period. It doesn't add or detract from the story event; it's unnecessary information, really. I'm obsessed with that damn book. It needs to stop. I've read 2 books since then, and I'm still hung up on it.
I've also started listening to Phish. This doesn't really bear into my writing, except that every so often the constant stream of Grateful Dead is interrupted by Phish. That's all, really. Of course, in my wicked-cool iTunes "party shuffle" I can have the Dead and Phish and John Lennon and Weezer (love their new single) and who knows what else that I have loaded into my iTunes. But, being so hung up on the whole jam-band thing, what with the Grateful Dead and their offshoots and now a few Phish shows I've downloaded, I tend to listen to complete concerts. Phish was tonight; in fact, the conceptual part of my new story was written to the first set of the Phish show from 2/18/03. Last night I did a bit of writing to the Dead from 5/9/77. This is all really beside the point, though.
See, I told you I couldn't possibly follow up the video game post. Which reminds me, I think I'll head back to that site and play some NES Jeopardy. Yeah.
The Stark Existential Horror of Old Video Games
posted 10:11 pm on February 11 2006
So obviously I've been suffering from pretty severe boredom. How else do you explain my inexplicable crankiness demonstrated in the post below? How else do you explain that I posted a screen capture of "Corn is no place for a mighty warrior!" on the message board?
So I rediscovered a website I tried in the past, called Every Video Game, which, while not entirely true, is healthily stocked with fun old video games you can play in a wee Java screen right in your internet browser.
I started by treating myself to a superhero themed game, the Sega Game Gear epic Iron Man and X-O Manowar in Heavy Metal in which you control the titular technology-based heroes against--well, spiders, from what I could tell. You start the game as Iron Man, and it's really frustrating trying to figure out how to make him fly, but you pretty much have to, because his normal jump is feeble. Did I mention the spiders? Because they are apparently really deadly spiders. They felled the Golden Avenger with aplomb, leading me to move on to something else.
I played the apparently Japan-only title King Kong 2 - Ikari No Megaton Punch because not only do I have a long-standing soft spot for everyone's favorite giant primate, but how can you pass up anything involving the words Megaton Punch? You can't. Basically, Kong has to walk up--vertically, I mean, one screen to the next--punching little green blobs and dodging those fireball chains from the castle levels in Super Mario Brothers. Oh, and smashing inanimate tanks. It's kooky.
By the way, I know I'm stealing Ian's whole video-game-review gimmick, but hey, I'm bored. He'll forgive me this once. He's much better at it than I am, incidentally. Check his column out, over there on your left in my links sections. Some of my favorites are, unsurprisingly, when he revists old games from a particular line (most recently the Castlevania series). Frankly, although I'd much rather get published before he does (sorry, pal), I think he should write a book about video games someday.
Anyway, going back to the funny papers, I played the NES classic The Legend of Prince Valiant, which I do not recall having existed. In this game, which I again gave up fairly quickly, the legendary Arthurian warrior flings rocks at people dressed similarly to him but in different colors, and also falls into things such as lakes and pits that appear out of nowhere. Hal Foster surely would've loved how accurately this brought his graphic storytelling masterpiece to life.
Next up was the NES Japan-only grammatical horror Lord of King. I don't even know what that means. That was fun, though. You play a mighty axe-wielding warrior smiting things with his--well, his axe, obviously. Bearing a clear Lovecraftian influence, what with the flying tentacled eyeball thing that I couldn't get to die, this game is a classic-style adventure type. Whoever posted it didn't translate it, which is fine by me, but I am left curious as to the storyline.
Staying in Japan, I went with Houma Ga Toki, which apparently has something to do with Jekyll and Hyde, and may even be the Japanese version of that NES game, which I've never played. You walk aimlessly through fairly well-visualized Victorian streets poking people in the butt with your cane (really!) before randomly being blown up by random bombs. I played this for about 40 seconds. I had no idea what the hell I was supposed to be doing.
Next up, I had to play some Adventures of Bayou Billy. It has to have been at least 14 years since I played this game, if not more. I can't recall. Anyway, I played for a while, and then remembered how frustrating it was to have your ass kicked by a dude in a pink jumpsuit. However, the opening story frame, in which the villain informs you that he has captured Billy's lover, Annabelle, and taken her back to his estate, is great because when you first see Billy, he has a word bubble over his head in red-pink block letters that says "OH GOD!". Classic.
I had to play the hilariously titled Armored Scrum Object. Let me repeat that because, as Lewis Black says, it bears repeating. Armored Scrum Object. This turned out to be a fairly typical Zaxxon-style "spacecraft flies up-screen while you move it left and right shooting down various space-related obstacles and enemies" deal. I found myself, of course, having to look up precisely what "scrum" means. Merriam-Webster defines it as follows: "rugby play in which the forwards of each side come together in a tight formation and struggle to gain possession of the ball when it is tossed in among them." Okay. So, anyway, I don't know if your ship is an armored scrum, or an armored object, or an object that's armored and good at rugby, or what. Let me type it again, okay? Armored Scrum Object.
I could hardly resist Bible Adventures, could I? Of course I couldn't. So I had my choices of three "adventures"--Noah's Ark, Baby Moses, and David & Goliath. You can imagine how torn I was, but I selected Baby Moses. This is the single finest moment in the history of gaming. I swear. You pick up Baby Moses and hold him over your heard as if he were a radish in Super Mario 2. You can chuck him at things, but he doesn't damage them, nor is he himself damaged. I guess this is to get the wee prophet past obstacles. Anyway, there are spiders here, too. I was then attacked by what appeared to be ancient Greeks, so naturally I tossed the baby at them. They picked him and threw him in the Nile. I thought this would end my game, but did not, so I continued on until I got killed by another spider. Anyway, I moved on to Noah's Ark, which had the same basic premise--hold things (animals, this time) aloft and hurl them, presumably into the ark. It's great fun, lifting an ox over your head. I didn't bother with David and Goliath.
Next came something called Bird Week in which you play a mother bird who has to catch butterflies and feed them to her chicks. This got old fast. The less said of it, frankly, the better.
I could not resist the lovely slice of Japanese culture called "Hello Kitty no Ohanabatake", which apparently means "Hello Kitty's Flower Shop". In this, Hello Kitty runs around watering flowers and bashing little animals on the head with a mallet. I shit you not. Anyway, Hello Kitty tends to die (well, fall into a fit of tears) after being whacked by a beach ball. I am not entirely sure this game was truly programmed intentionally, or if it was an eruption of psychosis from some dark, horrible part of the collective unconscious of mankind.
I am unnerved at this juncture, and decide to play one more game. What will it be?
I selected Seishyuan Scandal, which begins with you getting punched by a thug with a mohawk who walks away with your girlfriend under his arm as if she were a stack of papers. Then you have to punch and kick a cadre of thugs in striped shirts, apparently with such force that they are sent hurtling into orbit, or else you risk being turned into a quivering mass of human gelatin at one punch. Just one! Needless to say, this got old really, really, fast.
I can honestly say that, as profoundly horrible as many of those games were, I had a really great time playing them. It was a nice diverting way to pass some time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go brush snow off my Armored Scrum Object.
Oh, man, that's never getting old.
Crank
posted some fucking time after 10 pm on February 9 2006
I would like to go on some kind of rant right now. I just don't know what to rant about. Isn't that awful?
I've been cranky today. Not that you, the Why Not Reader(s), would care, but whatever. I have been. But I've had no one to talk to. Which is best, because usually when I talk to people on days like today, I just kind of swear a lot. Sometimes not even in the course of forming a coherent sentence. No, sometimes I just swear.
I don't know why I'm cranky. I don't know why I can't even think of anything to complain about. I would kind of like to take a baseball bat to the neighbor's minivan, but he has not transgressed against me in any way ever so that would be totally uncool of me. I just think it'd help.
I wish there was snow, so I could build a snowman and chop it to bits with an axe. Yes, I'm fucking disturbed. Stop staring.
I need some kind of...I don't want to call it stress relief; it's not stress I'm experiencing. I need some kind of outlet for whatever emotion. Generally, this outlet is writing, except I can't figure out what the fuck to say.
Remember the days when I tried to pretend this wasn't a blog? Any illusions of that drop dead the second you write a phrase like "outlet for emotion". Christ. I'm such a fucking sell-out. What the hell does that mean, even?
I'm feeling very unDude. It's a Thursday night and it's 10 o'clock and I'm yelling at my not-a-blog and the 2-or-less people that read it, and I want to smash snowmen and assault innocent Chevrolet products. I am not a good person.
We'll try this again later on, huh?
Not Fade Away
posted at 3:22 on February 3 2006
I remembered that today was the 47th anniversary of the plane crash that killed Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, and the Big Bopper. Talking to my father, I mentioned this to him.
He immediately remembered exactly where he was. He was stationed in Hawaii (he was in the Navy) and he was playing tennis with some buddies, the radio playing in the background, when the news broke.
Now, although my father has a truly remarkable memory, things like that still amaze me. I hope I can reach back 47 years in my memory some day and be able to pull things out that accurately.
Anyway, safe and secure in the knowledge that music didn't really die that day, and is still around in one way or another after all these years, I'm listening to a little Buddy Holly today. You should, too. Just spin one record for old Buddy.
I think he'd appreciate it.
iTunes Has a Funny Idea of "Party"
a random aside posted at 8:03 pm on January 26 2006
As mentioned previously, I have imported some of my newer albums into iTunes from the original CDs, as well as some favorites. Amongst the newer ones was the John Lennon Acoustic release. Which has some really fine, minimalist music on it, and I really like it.
So iTunes has this "party shuffle" feature that automatically takes your songs and just grabs a specified amount--I told it 20--and randomly shuffles up those songs and plays them in a fun little order.
I find it amusing, for some reason, that the Lennon song "My Mommy's Dead" is the only song from the album to make the so-called party shuffle. Funny in a dark, that's-not-right kind of way.
Fucking iTunes.
Message Board = A-OK
posted 4:54 pm on January 26 2006
The board is fine. I am able to access it as normal, and am presuming that everyone else can.
I could've just taken down the post about the board being broken, but that would've been revisionist of me, wouldn't it?
Broken Message Board
frantically posted 4:36 pm on January 26 2006
updated roughly 5 minutes later
Everyone having the same problem I am with the board? I am told there is an "unrecoverable" error.
"Unrecoverable", as you can surely understand, is a word I hate these days when it comes to computer technology.
I'll check back later.
UPDATE: It looks like the whole Bravenet network has crashed, because very little--including the customer login--on their website is working properly. So I guess we'll wait and see.
I'm Calling This Post "Zombie Apocalypse" Because I Can
posted roughly 1:53 pm on January 26 2006
Okay, so, sticking with Firefox. Netscape 8 I tried for about 5 minutes, didn't care for it. I don't know why, exactly. The Netscape-Firefox history is confusing and boring, to say the least, but I can say that it is intermingled. Netscape 7.2 was a great browser; I found 8 to be less so, and have opted to just go ahead and stay with Firefox as my IE alternative. Although I will pause a moment and say that I have, on the pre-devastation compy, used the Opera browser, which I found to be fairly nice, too. Anyway.
This has to be one of the most boring set of posts I've ever done on this page in its (ahem) seven year history. I mean, really. Talking about picking a browser? That's bad.
Other notes: I like the whole we-find-it-for-you thing, which I'm assuming is a Firefox innovation, when you need a plug-in, like Flash and Java, which were missing since I had to start from the beginning. No need to leave your page, Firefox does it for you. So, I give them a nod for that.
Also re-installed "fucking iTunes" (as Warren Ellis tends to call it). And...fucking iTunes...I have to get my old files off the previous hard drive or else all the stupid crap I bought off of them is lost to me, as they do not allow you to redownload in these situations. Of course I can only assume they have my billing history...I know I do. So they should know what I bought. But no. Fucking iTunes. Fucking Steve Jobs. Fucking...fuck.
Anyway, in order to fill my compy up with song files, I just imported a few favorite CDs. I do this a lot, even though I know it's an unnecessary step; I just like the convenience. I also get to mix and match, which is nice, of course. If I ever get an iPod it will be full immediately, and probably just with different versions of "Dark Star"--Veneta '72, anyone? Yeah, nobody gets that. Well, maybe Dan does. Oh well.
(PS specifically to Dan--if you don't, check it out...man, that's a great show).
This is starting to read like the message board, the way I'm directly addressing readers. I always used to pretend I wasn't writing for a narrow audience, but rather a broad one beyond my friends and that guy who used to come here when I talked about wrestling. Now, I think I'm down to just my friends and relatives, mostly. And an unlucky few who may stumble by unwittingly and leave quickly.
By the way, Wrestling Guy, if you're still out there, keep in touch. Also, to the young woman in Texas--I know I talk about the Grateful Dead a lot, but I do still listen to Iced Earth, just so you know.
Oh, and I know there were a few people who drifted by when I first linked to the "Fight for the Flight" campaign to save the ill-fated and sorely missed comic book series Alpha Flight. I still keep the banner up, because they still have my link up, and I think that's cool. It's a nice site they have. And who knows? Maybe Marvel will bring Alpha Flight back.
So that's my readership. Anyway, I don't really feel the need to put up fronts anymore, and I also don't care if you're really fucking bored by all this--you must be, surely--because I know you'll be back.
And because I love you all just for reading this crap. Always have.
It's really sad how I was in deep computer withdrawal, isn't it?
Things will be better tomorrow. And this is coming from a pessimist, so there has to be something to it.
Browse-y
seemingly posted around 12:23 am on January 26 2006
I've switched to Firefox as my browser, knuckling to popular demand--as in, everyone would say to me, what browser do you use? And I would say, naturally, Netscape. Which I prefer, and am probably going back to shortly after I finish this. There's a few things about Firefox that annoy me, including the little "loading" circle, and the fact that it is now what Netscape was like 2 years ago when I first gave up on Internet Explorer, leaving me pondering why nobody uses Netscape. I don't know. I'm just thinking out loud. Well, not out loud, but in print.
I remember my sister was the first person who ever suggested Firefox to me. She told me that tabbed web browsing was awesome. Naturally, I, the Netscape loyalist, said, well, no shit, because Netscape has it. I presume they had it first, but I cannot confirm this.
You know what? Fuck it. I'm downloading Netscape. More to follow after that's installed and I've watched Drawn Together.
Functional Once More
clearly posted at 7:38 pm on January 25 2006
I'm back up and running, full force, on an 80 gig hard drive, Windows XP, working video and audio, and all that. Data from the old hard drive is still locked there, cold and alone and waiting for me to liberate them somehow, someday. We'll work on it.
Double super salute again to Boehm, without whom this would've been a real pain in the ass. He gets the first and only Why Not Universal Hero Award. I just made it up, but let me assure him and all of the rest of you that it is a great honor, which no one else will get to have. It would have been "Captain Universe" but that is already taken.
Things to come: Thinking of putting little "reference" tags for myself in here, so I can organize archives better. I'll be making a 2005 archive fairly soon, and I'm not sure how to divide it, because there would be, like, 4 entries for "fiction" and about 15,000 for "ramblings". And, oh, maybe 3 or 4 for "drunken ramblings". But I'm working on it.
I'm also thinking of maybe putting up some photographs, if anyone is interested. I didn't take any of them, but they are of my vacation. There's one of me standing outside of the Grateful Dead house at 710 Ashbury in San Francisco grinning like an asshole. I don't know. I just thought it might, you know, liven things up.
I was going to change the picture at the top, do a new South Park portrait of me, but upon looking in the mirror this morning I discovered that this one remains accurate and is therefore in no need of replacement.
That's all for now, but I figured I'd do the report and fill in my ever-so-loyal readers that we're back at full functionality. Thank you for your support and patience.
One More Thing Tonight
definitely posted at 11:11 pm on January 19 2006
In case you want to join me in spirit, it's time for a beer, and, in a few minutes, the Colbert Report.
Goddamn I missed this page.
It's Alive...ish
posted sometime around 10:27 pm on January 19 2006, I guess
Well, my compy is...you know...well, the hard drive appears to be, in technical terms, "f'ed in the a". I suppose there is, somewhere, somebody I can pay to have the data retrieved, and I do have some things on it I'd kind of like back (the Grateful Dead at Cornell 5/8/77 soundboard, thank you very much) and, you know, maybe I'll do that some time. My book was on there, because I'm what I like to call an "absolute fucking moron". But, you know what, those are the breaks. You learn from these things.
Right now, I'm using a borrowed hard drive, I think it's 10 gigs but that's not terribly relevant since this is a stopgap measure. It's using Windows 2000, not XP, since XP came factory-installed and, hey guess what, the "recovery partition" of my hard drive is worthless to me now, since the hard drive is down. So I didn't have a recovery disc because I trusted HP that somehow, someway I'd be able to use this keen-ass recovery partition someday. Wrong.
Hopefully within a week or two I'll be on a larger hard drive with Windows XP and the proper audio and video drivers. Everything right now is silent and in 16 colors so it's all greyish and purplish and generally wrong. But, on the other hand, I'm able to get online and update the page, and that's really all that matters for the moment, since I've been deprived of that.
In time, I will do all the things I wanted to do on this page--setting up a 2005 archive, maybe some other tweaks, not that I really have any concrete ideas, but we'll see.
I have really missed the page. I miss my book, and all those Grateful Dead shows, but hey, we'll work on it. This is likely to be the first place I go if I can get my stuff recovered. Big bold letters, most likely. We'll see.
Then, if I do get it all back, I would like to institute a rigorous process of reminding my dumb ass to back up the important stuff now and again. We'll see.
A few things: Theoretically, I could have updated this page on the computer I was using to check my e-mail, but I like to have more time to sit and think. Not that you could ever tell that by reading the page. That, and I sincerely wanted to triumphantly return with my working computer. Things don't always work out the way we want, of course, but it's always worth a try.
I would've also probably written something about my brother and my sister-in-law, who have for some bizarre reason given up the living paradise that is Maryland for some place called California, wherever that is. Ha ha, I am only kidding, of course. Weather-wise, they've really made a wise decision. I think there's a certain charm to a 40 mile per hour wind that slices through your abdomen like a blade is a good thing, but I'm generally considered something of an eccentric in that regard. Anyway, I am now formally wishing them good luck, much happiness, and a total lack of razorblade winds.
I also do not have a job at the moment, by the way, although I have just completed an application to get one. It would be with the same outfit I had been with, so really I'm just having a 3-or-4 week unpaid vacation, which is basically just giving me a lot of time to read The Romance of the Three Kingdoms (actually, my edition is simply called Three Kingdoms but that's the formal title) by Luo Guanzhong, which I recommend, if you like historical novels approaching 2000 pages. It's a remarkably swift read--for all that size, it barely ever wastes a word. It's historical in 2 regards: Written in the 13th century as China's first true novel (with chapter breaks and all of that), it recounts the true story of the...surprise..."Three Kingdoms" era of Chinese History, which was from the very end of the 2nd century (the 190s) to the earliest part of the 3rd (the 210s). You want political intrigue? You want some good battle scenes? You got 'em. And, truly, for memoral characters, you won't come across one more so than Zhuge Liang, often referred to as Kongming. You have to wait about 500 pages for him to enter the story, but once he does I promise he'll grab your attention. So that's my literary recommendation.
Can you tell I've missed having my own computer to leisurely update my page on?
Anyway, so, I'll be keeping my ever-so-loyal audience updated. I hope you all had fine holidays and so forth. 2006--incidentally, nothing less than the seventh year of Why Not--will hopefully be a fine year for us all.
Oh, and super-special Why Not salute to Boehm for helping me immeasurably with the computer, including the loaning of this hard drive. Couldn't have done it without you, bud.
.
