People have taken up this idea of “challenge: draw yourself as a teen” and changed it to “draw yourself ten years ago (ie as a teen) versus now.” Since tomorrow’s my birthday, I thought it appropriate to chip in.
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Iron Man: Recommended
But with the caveat that it really isn’t subversive at all. I mean, I shouldn’t have expected it to be, but it is a story about an arms dealer who undergoes a radical change in personality. I was hoping for an equally radical challenge to the idea that peace must be achieved by superiority in arms; instead I got a story about how you should blow up weapons, but only the ones that belong to bad guys–preferably while the bad guys are standing on them–with your newer, shinier weapon.
Plus it was lathered in all the typical American movie race issues. White hero, white love interest, brown mentor/sage, brown sidekick, good brown person dies nobly, bad brown people die en masse, hero is only actually challenged by white villain: check! Sigh. Um, and the love interest and her rival were literally the only women with speaking parts in the movie. Except for some strippers?
I kind of like it less after writing all that, but it really was fun. Jon Favreau managed to give himself a twenty-minute cameo.
Also for the first time I learned what “calling a pick” is. I’ve been playing for five years
Yesterday I saw a disc hovering in the endzone, juked on my defender, sprinted half the length of the field, saw it start to drop, leapt full-length and grasping, missed, slid a few feet on my face, caught on something and flipped a couple times to end up in a sort of collapsed headstand. Later, somebody spiked my hand with their cleats.
Ah, frisbee at something like my level. I missed you!
Nobody Return to Codak
How come everybody’s all like “ooh, Dresden Codak” and “so awesome Dresden Codak” and “put your Dresden in my Codak” and yet I’ve never heard a single mention of Nobody Scores? The only reason I found out is because its creator personally came to my table at Stumptown and I had to ask him what he did. And it’s great! Full-color, long-scrolling strips with apocalyptically gleeful jokes that never descend into self-parody or fanservice. I love transhumanism as much as the next guy (the next guy being Dresden Codak), but I also love transplanted Indiana Jones gags and runes (and, for my North Carolina crew, The Björk Dojo).
It actually reminds me a lot of Return to Sender, in visual style and whimsy, but with a less sympathetic bent. Oh, and also with like five times the archive length.
Have I even posted about my webcomic pull list in the last few years? For my own records, in secret and arcane order: Starslip Crisis, Achewood, Scary Go Round, PvP, Narbonic: Director’s Cut, xkcd, Octopus Pie, Shortpacked, Penny Arcade, Darths and Droids, Gunnerkrigg Court, Basic Instructions, Chainsaw Suit, Three Panel Soul, Thingpart, Bob the Angry Flower, A Softer World, Wonderella, and Raymondo Person and Dresden Codak whenever they’re updated. And don’t think I don’t hit Checkerboard Nightmare pretty often too. Just in case.
People keep telling me I’m such a traveler
But compared to my siblings (who, I have explained to many people’s astonished eyes, are in Hilo and Oxford) I am the kid who ain’t never been past yonder fence. Caitlan has a beautiful post up now about her triennial trips to Italy with her friends Christi and Melissa, with whom I was privileged to ransack Innsbruck last summer.
Day Whatever: Portland
I keep the Moleskine and the Micron next to my bed so I can write down story ideas I have while falling asleep, and on mornings after they usually turn out about half useful and half dumb. But even in their hastiness and abbreviation, I can almost always follow the signifying notes back to the image or twist that precipitated them.
I had two last night. One was a Chosen Ones story that I’ll probably do up for next week. The other?
“Six big diapers.”
I offer this to the world.
I live in Portland now. I had some exceedingly mild adventures in San Francisco, and took a lot of pictures that you will see sometime around 2018. Maria came to visit and that was really nice. Hugner is fine.
I’ve been in a self-imposed sweatshop lockbox all this week, trying to prepare for the big show: Stumptown Comics Fest, where I will be exhibiting with free microcomics and a six-word story completion marathon and, yes, Ommatidia, the first Anacrusis book. No, you can’t buy it online yet, not until I finish setting up the storefront. I am planning to have that up by my birthday (a week from tomorrow).
I realize that I have announced this far too late for anyone who wasn’t already planning to come to Stumptown to show up; trust me, that is all part of a strategy. Eventually I may even figure out what the strategy is. But on the off chance that there are any Anacrusis fans in the PDX, show up! There are a lot more reasons to do so than just me and my tablemates (“Cinema Sewer”).
The intent of this post is not actually to lionize Baz Luhrmann in any way
Oh, I know Baz Luhrmann, all right.
Ain’t nobody marking that motherfucker safe.
Day 6: California
In San Francisco! Fourteen-hour drive! Exhausted! No pictures! But here and safe. Time to go get plantar warts.
Day 5: Arizona
I like “Horse with No Name” so much, and I don’t think I have it on my iPod! Which means I can’t play it over and over again tomorrow, my last day of driving through desert. So far the desert has had the pleasant effect of being very pretty. It has also had the unfortunate effects of making me drink three times as much water as usual, making me run the AC all the time, and oh yeah, being like a fucking desert.
Also, it scared Hugner, and not without reason. I had to take these pictures from a rest area without him in them. Unless… unless he was hiding somewhere!
But today’s drive (the shortest of this trip) was worth it for the chance to hang out in Phoenix, which included my being the first Kentucky-friend to get a tour of the new digs of the Chinese Shao-Lin Center from its proprietors:
Then they took me home, fed me delicious raw vegan “cheese” “cake,” and permitted me to indulge my gadgeteering impulses in the process of watching Love Actually. Now I am falling asleep while writing this on their couch. Tomorrow is the big push: Phoenix to SF in one day, hopefully by 8 pm. It’s not going to be easy. Hugner, better set snuggling to max.
Days 3 and 4: Texas
Day 3 also included Louisiana and Mississippi, but even before I left Alabama, Taylor and her friend Cheryl were mocking my car for its filthy appearance. When I took a closer look, I discovered something intriguing: that wasn’t dirt on it at all! It was pollen! My poor little Fit was encased entirely in a light, even coating of tree jizz.
Man, you know what’s going to be great? Not living in the South.
But after that: Texas! Things do not seem to be bigger in Texas, but Texas is definitely bigger than anywhere else. This photo should give you some sense of scale:
See, it’s like the star is Texas, and Hugner is Earth.
Kris and Erica were kind enough to put me up for the night, even under the stress of their still-in-progress move and its pipe-related disasters. While there I got to meet Oxford, who demonstrated that it wasn’t just Hugner, but all Jinxlets who make dogs want to chomp them. And snuggle.
That latter shot features not just Kris and Hugner, but the original Hieronymous B’Gosh himself. I’d label them but come on, they’re pretty easy to tell apart. (NO Kris is in the MIDDLE)
I spent the remainder of the day and most of the night trying to get out the other side of Texas. I made it just barely over the border before collapsing in Las Cruces, which is a little pilgrimage to me for Anacrusis-related reasons. Hugner was tired of the whole thing a mere five hours out.
After that he went over to the fence and peed because there was not so much as a gas station for two hours either way on I-20. Bad Hugner! But how can you even try to yell at that face?