Epic, I tell you

I drop the cloaking device to let you know something: I have, over the last few months, filled up a bookmark folder with various Web comics I find I must visit daly, or at least three times a week. Currently, I cannot wait to get home and check out Achewood (a big tip of the Freex motley to BChasm). The current storyline, involving something called The Great Outdoor Fight, is epic and compelling; it should be a multi-million dollar movie featuring Mel Gibson, but that would cheapen it.

And oh yeah, Happy Valentine’s Day, you saps.

Ooooh! Aaaah!

Very odd weekend. Well, not Addams Family odd, but remarkable in the sense that I’m going to remark on it.

Sunday night we had a bit of bad weather here, and considering that in the last year we’ve lost power every couple of weeks when the sun was shining and birds were chirping in the trees, it was no small surprise that the lights flickered and eventually died late that night – it was a heck of a storm. From the lofty perch of my office, I saw something arc outside before the darkness hit – and then stood out on the front porch and watched as the electricity would return for a minute, only to be interrupted by a basso crackle and the most remarkable blue-purple light from a block away followed by the darkening of houses as far as the eye could see.

Yep, that was no mere blown transformer or downed line, this was something major, and I had to supress the mindless urge to investigate (especially given that my wife would have given me a concussion to prevent me from doing something so dangerous). Power eventually returned four hours later, awakening me at 3AM.

But that was a very War of the Worlds-type experience. Mysterious lights and sounds in the distance. Very cool. Then again, I thought that watching an approaching tornado was very cool, too, so I might not be the best person to listen to in such circumstances.

And somehow, even with all this deathless drama, I managed to write a review for Blade: Trinity.

The light show was better.

SURVIVE!

Somehow I made it through the bug, though recovery took longer than I anticipated (cue up Mick Jagger howling. What a drag it is, getting old….). Felt well enough to go out to dinner last Friday, as it was our 10th wedding anniversary. Found out my wife’s favorite steak house had closed down, so we went to Benihana instead to enjoy the art of the hibachi chef.

As usual, I found myself wondering if there is some sort of newsletter circulating, as I saw all the usual jokes, plus a couple of new ones (and observed those playing at the other stations). Saw the same act at another hibachi place a few months ago, though that particular chef had a thing about torching oil. Some flambe would have been nice Friday, but given how crowded the place was, would likely have been frowned upon by management.

Paid for it the next couple of days, feeling drained and wan, and the abdominal cramps kept cropping up through Sunday. Rested as much as I was able, and am, of course, behind in my work once more. A Wrath of God type storm pre-empted our plans to take Mom out for dinner Sunday night, so that’s our likely destination Tuesday.

Included in all this drama and mayhem is the arrival of two more occupants of the house. Our neighbor Ronnie, determined to become the neighborhood Weird Cat Lady, has convinced a couple of the neighborhood strays to call her house their home, with an eye toward abusing their trust by spiriting them away to be spayed (and frankly, this neighborhood needs a few more Weird Cat Ladies like Ronnie). Too late in one instance, and Lisa helped find homes for the kittens… including two for us.

Our ancient cat is not impressed with this turn of events, and the Power Pug Princess is mystified as why she cannot play with them yet. (Pugzilla is a sweetie, but dumber than a bag of hammers and unaware of her own strength). The only thing that will save these fluffballs from the wrath of the Dusty Old Cat will be a) her hope that they will eventually come in on her side in the occasional spirited bout of Pugby (a game the dog always wins); and b) her desire to inculcate the fluffballs into the Ways of Evil.

Yowly has spent the last 12 years trying, in a variety of insidious ways, to murder me. Her native cunning has served her well, making the attempts look like accidents, like the simple mistakes of a naive animal, but she doesn’t fool me – the sooner she gets rid of me, the sooner she’ll be able to sleep on Lisa’s face all night long, instead of having me eject her from the bedroom when I come to bed in the small hours of the morning. Thus, this picture, which sums for me the current situation at my house. I will spare you the mawkish story about a puppy and a crippled boy which was attached to this e-mail, and cut straight to the chase:

Back! Posted by Hello

The Real Problem

…is when I have nothing to say, I don’t say it.

I mean, even if what I have to say is utterly asinine, stupid, or inevitably embarassing to me in the future, I’ll generally say it. But I really hate people who talk to hear their head rattle, as my sainted grandpa used to say. Ergo, my long bouts of silence.

But I did finish the Incredibles review. Let the rejoicing begin.

The Reward for Doing Good Work

Much as I may kvetch about the way work has, unbidden, taken over my life, the fact of the matter is I appreciate being busy much more than the alternative; after two plus years of being severely underemployed, it’s nice to not have to worry about bills. Though it would be nice to be able to watch an occasional movie again.

So it was with a little bit of trepidition that I approached the end of my scripting for the second project, although there’s still a couple of weeks of tweaking, and then doing some pickups and support materials for the first project. So it was a bit of a relief to be asked to stick around for a meeting discussing another educational product yesterday. Or it would have been had it not ended with a version of this:

“Okay, so now what we need is a punchy paragraph describing the story, the characters and the gameplay for the grant proposal. Oh, and we need it by Monday.”

“What story? What gameplay?”

“You’re the writer. Come up with something.”

So I’m teetering on the razor’s edge between a shout of joy and a moan of despair.

But hell – it beats working at a dinner theater for $100 a week.

Three Scripts and A Week and a Half To Go…

I think I remember what sleep was like. That’s the one where you don’t do anything, right?

Digital Sweatshops

While I deal with impending deadlines, let’s give B-Fest a rest for a bit while I remind you that we are, indeed, living in the 21th Century.

Quick! Put Out That Fire!

Note to self: in the future, don’t leave behind-schedule projects to frolic in the Chicago snow for four days, then come back all sleep-deprived and expect things to have gotten any better. In fact, expect them to be worse.

Well, a bit of breathing room has been bought. Tonight I’ll attempt to finish the now day-late review for 50 Foot DVD, then maybe get down to writing about B-Fest, since so many of you have been asking for that. And by so many, I mean Beckoning Chasm.

Peace out, I’ll be back.

UCC in the News Again

At their own Website, the United Church of Christ has posted SpongeBob welcomed by UCC, and the accompanying photo alone is worth the trip.

For those of you who value sanity in your news, you were probably unaware that SpongeBob Squarepants is gay. This is news to many people, not least of which are the people who make the cartoons. Were I one of them head-shrinker-type people, I’d say someone was projecting.

The UCC, of course, is the church whose “Jesus didn’t run people away – neither do we” commercial was deemed “too controversial” for the major networks – they’ve cropped up in this corner of Blogistan before, and before that.

Uh… umm….

From news.com.au: NEWS.com.au | Research at Oxford really is torture (January 13, 2005)

“PEOPLE are to be tortured in laboratories at Oxford University in a US-funded experiment to determine if belief in God is effective in relieving pain.”

Though the opening paragraph makes it sound like the gov is financing this, the US-based entity supplying $2 million is the John Templeton Foundation.

Okay. I admit it. I canNOT wrap my head around this one.

Wait, here’s a slightly more detailed story from AFP via Yahoo:

Volunteers will be either have a gel made from chilli peppers applied to their skin, or have a small box which heats up to temperatures of 60 degrees Centigrade (140 Fahrenheit) placed on the back of their hands.

The scientists will then study their brain as they are showed a religious image, or perform other distractions such as saying a list of numbers backwards.”

On the other hand, I understand this story from Wired Online, “Real World Doesn’t Use a Joystick“:

(After a three-day binge of playing Katamari Damacy) “I was driving down Venice Boulevard,” recalled her husband, Dan Kitchens, “and Kozy reached over and grabbed the steering wheel and for a moment was trying to yank it to the right…. (Then) she let go, but kept staring out her window, and then looked back at me kind of stunned and said, ‘Sorry. I thought we could pick up that mailbox we just passed.'”

There is no need for expensive research into this (and other incidents reported in the story); the principle here is obvious: “Do not play video games if you are a dumbass.”