Today we should celebrate the hangover our founding fathers surely were suffering thru in Philadelphia on July 5th, 1776. Today, I am fairly certain there are plenty of folks experiencing empathy pains.
We took Mel out to the fireworks last night, which entailed us driving about a mile and parking the Forester on the side of the road, popping the tailgate and watching the Chandler, AZ fireworks from across a few miles of open field/ reclaimed desert. While the Chandler fireworks are about what you'd expect from a bedroom community's low property tax, one cool thing about living in the middle of a horrible stinking desert is that you can see really, really far. So in addition to the Chandler fireworks, we could see those in Mesa, Queen Creek, Tempe, Gilbert and a few other places I couldn't quite place. Es bueno.
Jim D. sent me an absolutely ridiculously large poster celebrating Marvel Comics circa 1988. It's truly a great gift and everything I said in the post below is a lie and I never meant a word of any of it. I hope to take a picture of the poster, because mere words would not do it justice. Even a 1000 words.
Saturday, July 05, 2003
Thursday, July 03, 2003
Jim's attack on Randy today was worth reading. The point of Randy's post was that for all the money that will not be redistributed via government programs, people will have virtually nothing to show for it in their personal bank accounts and spending. The implied message in Randy's original post was that the addition of $20 means little to the individual when the point of taxation is that we can do more together than we can separately. Believing that you are investing an amount as small as $20.00 a month per person, when that amount ads up to millions every month, is not an irrational thing to believe.
The flummoxing 80's and the failure of Voodoo economics then was a trial run. We were supposed to know better now. Ignoring the last fifteen years of economic wisdom, the "fashionable" thing for conservatives to chime in with is that folks should be wisely investing their money in the stock market or be buying something to stimulate the economy. It's a nice idea, but most market watchers are suggesting people steer clear of the market right now. The trick is, most Americans don't earn enough that they can risk losing money in the stock maket given current trends. Turning $20 a month into $10 the next is not a winning proposition. You might as well suggest taking it down to the local casino and bet everything on black. I suppose that would stimulate the economy, too.
On top of this, a majority of economists are agreed that the tax cuts are not going to do much of anything to stimulate the economy (anyone remember their $300 from last year?).
Jim's stance seems to be that trusting the government to repurpose funding for anything from defense to child welfare does not occur. He seems to believe that "the government redistribut(es) income from one taxpayer to the next." This negates healthcare, medicare, roadworks, defense and all of those things voters care about at election time. It also covers such critical things as police sponsorship, federal and local prisons, FEMA, higher education, and the FDA. Jim also suggests that we are willing to pay taxes out of guilt. I'm not sure why we're not supposed to feel "lingering guilt about poverty and hunger" when we live in a wealthy nation, but clearly Dedman feels this is something to be ridiculed.
If taxes are so high that they are no longer needed to pay for worthy causes, why are there currently so many charities? Yes, there are options for donating to charities, which people occasionally do. In addition, Jim is suggesting Randy will not donate this money to a worthy cause, which he might well do. Jim never bothered to check Randy for a response on this, nor disclose what he, himself, gives every year before waving the finger of doubt. The point is being aware that most people do NOT actually give to private group charities. Not enough, anyway. Nor is there evidence that people would give more if they had more free cash to spend.
Anecdotally, The University of Texas sponsors the Hearts of Texas Campaign which draws money from your paycheck before taxes so that these funds may go to charities. Fully over a hundred people show up for the breakfast every year which kicks off the campaign, and generally fewer than a dozen participate. And this program asks that you not even write a check every month. I suppose everyone wants a free breakfast.
Believing in such institutions as public education, road works and basic healthcare are not sentimental fancies. But even these things are something we force ourselves to trim back by willfully reducing expenditures on them, and then refusing to find blame in ourselves. In fact, we set up our spending on schools to PUNISH poorly performing schools economically by dispersing funds to schools which are already excelling. So by removing resources, we're clearly enhancing the learning environment?
But going by the law of inverse proportions: If we can somehow reduce government to no taxation (which we did prior to Lincoln instituing a personal income tax) our government should be humming along nicely. Which would leave nothing but corporate income taxes. Which are being reduced now, too.
The flummoxing 80's and the failure of Voodoo economics then was a trial run. We were supposed to know better now. Ignoring the last fifteen years of economic wisdom, the "fashionable" thing for conservatives to chime in with is that folks should be wisely investing their money in the stock market or be buying something to stimulate the economy. It's a nice idea, but most market watchers are suggesting people steer clear of the market right now. The trick is, most Americans don't earn enough that they can risk losing money in the stock maket given current trends. Turning $20 a month into $10 the next is not a winning proposition. You might as well suggest taking it down to the local casino and bet everything on black. I suppose that would stimulate the economy, too.
On top of this, a majority of economists are agreed that the tax cuts are not going to do much of anything to stimulate the economy (anyone remember their $300 from last year?).
Jim's stance seems to be that trusting the government to repurpose funding for anything from defense to child welfare does not occur. He seems to believe that "the government redistribut(es) income from one taxpayer to the next." This negates healthcare, medicare, roadworks, defense and all of those things voters care about at election time. It also covers such critical things as police sponsorship, federal and local prisons, FEMA, higher education, and the FDA. Jim also suggests that we are willing to pay taxes out of guilt. I'm not sure why we're not supposed to feel "lingering guilt about poverty and hunger" when we live in a wealthy nation, but clearly Dedman feels this is something to be ridiculed.
If taxes are so high that they are no longer needed to pay for worthy causes, why are there currently so many charities? Yes, there are options for donating to charities, which people occasionally do. In addition, Jim is suggesting Randy will not donate this money to a worthy cause, which he might well do. Jim never bothered to check Randy for a response on this, nor disclose what he, himself, gives every year before waving the finger of doubt. The point is being aware that most people do NOT actually give to private group charities. Not enough, anyway. Nor is there evidence that people would give more if they had more free cash to spend.
Anecdotally, The University of Texas sponsors the Hearts of Texas Campaign which draws money from your paycheck before taxes so that these funds may go to charities. Fully over a hundred people show up for the breakfast every year which kicks off the campaign, and generally fewer than a dozen participate. And this program asks that you not even write a check every month. I suppose everyone wants a free breakfast.
Believing in such institutions as public education, road works and basic healthcare are not sentimental fancies. But even these things are something we force ourselves to trim back by willfully reducing expenditures on them, and then refusing to find blame in ourselves. In fact, we set up our spending on schools to PUNISH poorly performing schools economically by dispersing funds to schools which are already excelling. So by removing resources, we're clearly enhancing the learning environment?
But going by the law of inverse proportions: If we can somehow reduce government to no taxation (which we did prior to Lincoln instituing a personal income tax) our government should be humming along nicely. Which would leave nothing but corporate income taxes. Which are being reduced now, too.
vacation
I'm in day 3 of my "vacation". I took off work this week and am trying to enjoy the simple pleasures of staying at home. In order to better celebrate this, I am going to take a shower and go to work for a few hours today. HURRAY!
Wednesday, July 02, 2003
1000 hits sell-a-bration!
Hey. I hit 1000 hits today. WHOO-HOO!!!
imagine fireworks in this space ----> <-----
imagine fireworks in this space ----> <-----
Tuesday, July 01, 2003
Quite a few months ago, Jamie and I decided we would be getting Melbotis a little friend so that his hours wherein Jamie and I are not at home would not just be spent with Jeff the Cat. Dogs are a social animal, and we were doing our best to appreciate that.
So, we’d done our reading and considered our options, and we decided to explore two options this weekend. PetsMart hosts adoption fairs every weekend in our area, and we have a fairly standard animal shelter up near campus in Tempe.
Our first stop was at PetsMart where we noticed, right off the bat, that there were no dogs to adopt. Apparently their current MO is to put photos online, and you select your dog based on a picture and an interview with the Adoption staff. Less than a minute into the interview, it became abundantly clear that being a dual income family with no children is, apparently, no place for a dog. I wasn’t really sure what went wrong, but the adoption agent got the same look on her face my high school guidance counselor got when I told her I was planning to major in communications. Short of saying, “fuck this,” I let it slide and we decided we would have better luck at the animal shelter.
If you are considering going to an animal shelter to adopt a pet, keep one thing in mind: It is going to be one of the most sentimentally heart-breaking things you can do short of having to select a child. There are rows and rows of animals in small cement cages, and they have nothing better to do than to stare at you through chain link.
We saw three dogs and settled on a little black and white border collie who had a very sweet disposition and warmed up to us immediately without jumping or biting. We had picked a winner. She was to be spayed and receive a battery of shots on Monday morning, and in the afternoon, I was picking her up.
Sunday we voyaged to PetsMart and picked up a “crate” for potty training and easy animal storage for the first few weeks of night time sleeping arrangements. I took a few days off work to be here for adjustments, etc… We even ran into the animal shelter volunteer while we were in the store, and we double checked with her that we were doing the right things and that we weren’t going to scar the little dog right out of the gate.
Monday morning I received a phone call from the animal shelter telling me that our dog had green mucus coming out of her nose, which would indicate either kennel cough or distemper. I was told that they could not diagnose which one it was, and that distemper was a neurological disease which is fatal and highly contagious. And, by the way, it’s your dog, so what do you want to do? The options did not include the shelter keeping her for observation.
So before I ever even got her home, I had to tell some anonymous lady over the phone to put my dog down.
Next, I was told I could get a refund or exchange, which seemed callous, but I wanted a shot at saving some little dog, even if not the one we had selected. And I had to call jamie and tell her what happened.
So yesterday afternoon Jamie and I were wandering through the kennels again, but it just wasn’t working. It’s tough picking out a dog when you’re not even sure if the dog you thought you were spending the next ten years or so with has been put down.
We returned home from the animal shelter, utterly exhausted over this stupid little dog, and the answering machine was blinking. It was the PetsMart based animal rescue group. They left a message telling us that they didn’t feel we were home enough and they didn’t really have any dogs right now which matched our schedule.
I tried again at the animal shelter this morning, and it wasn’t any better. I also found out that distemper gets pretty bad out here during the summer, and many, many dogs at the shelter contract the disease. No matter which dog we might select, we run a risk of exposing Mel and Jeff to Parvo or distemper.
I would never suggest that people not visit their animal shelter to select a dog, especially when puppy farms are selling dogs for hundreds of dollars. Those dogs at the shelter need a home as much or more than any thoroughbred. Right now, I’m just not sure I can give a home to one of those other dogs. And I am not posting any of this to keep anyone reading from adopting a dog from a shelter. That is not what this is about, and I think that's the worst thing you could take away from all of this. You run risks in losing anyone you want to get attached to, and I don't think Jamie and I really knew how much we wanted this little dog until we couldn't have her anymore.
Mel is sweetly oblivious to all of this. All he knows is that there is an empty metal kennel in the living room and a couple of bowls sitting empty inside. And I know I’m really, really lucky to have a great dog who I hope I treat better than people who let their dogs wind up in tiny cement cells.
We’ll fold up the kennel tomorrow, and we’ll try the shelter again in the future, but right now, we’re still saying good-bye to the dog who never got the chance to come home with us.
Bye-bye, little doggy. Bye-bye.
So, we’d done our reading and considered our options, and we decided to explore two options this weekend. PetsMart hosts adoption fairs every weekend in our area, and we have a fairly standard animal shelter up near campus in Tempe.
Our first stop was at PetsMart where we noticed, right off the bat, that there were no dogs to adopt. Apparently their current MO is to put photos online, and you select your dog based on a picture and an interview with the Adoption staff. Less than a minute into the interview, it became abundantly clear that being a dual income family with no children is, apparently, no place for a dog. I wasn’t really sure what went wrong, but the adoption agent got the same look on her face my high school guidance counselor got when I told her I was planning to major in communications. Short of saying, “fuck this,” I let it slide and we decided we would have better luck at the animal shelter.
If you are considering going to an animal shelter to adopt a pet, keep one thing in mind: It is going to be one of the most sentimentally heart-breaking things you can do short of having to select a child. There are rows and rows of animals in small cement cages, and they have nothing better to do than to stare at you through chain link.
We saw three dogs and settled on a little black and white border collie who had a very sweet disposition and warmed up to us immediately without jumping or biting. We had picked a winner. She was to be spayed and receive a battery of shots on Monday morning, and in the afternoon, I was picking her up.
Sunday we voyaged to PetsMart and picked up a “crate” for potty training and easy animal storage for the first few weeks of night time sleeping arrangements. I took a few days off work to be here for adjustments, etc… We even ran into the animal shelter volunteer while we were in the store, and we double checked with her that we were doing the right things and that we weren’t going to scar the little dog right out of the gate.
Monday morning I received a phone call from the animal shelter telling me that our dog had green mucus coming out of her nose, which would indicate either kennel cough or distemper. I was told that they could not diagnose which one it was, and that distemper was a neurological disease which is fatal and highly contagious. And, by the way, it’s your dog, so what do you want to do? The options did not include the shelter keeping her for observation.
So before I ever even got her home, I had to tell some anonymous lady over the phone to put my dog down.
Next, I was told I could get a refund or exchange, which seemed callous, but I wanted a shot at saving some little dog, even if not the one we had selected. And I had to call jamie and tell her what happened.
So yesterday afternoon Jamie and I were wandering through the kennels again, but it just wasn’t working. It’s tough picking out a dog when you’re not even sure if the dog you thought you were spending the next ten years or so with has been put down.
We returned home from the animal shelter, utterly exhausted over this stupid little dog, and the answering machine was blinking. It was the PetsMart based animal rescue group. They left a message telling us that they didn’t feel we were home enough and they didn’t really have any dogs right now which matched our schedule.
I tried again at the animal shelter this morning, and it wasn’t any better. I also found out that distemper gets pretty bad out here during the summer, and many, many dogs at the shelter contract the disease. No matter which dog we might select, we run a risk of exposing Mel and Jeff to Parvo or distemper.
I would never suggest that people not visit their animal shelter to select a dog, especially when puppy farms are selling dogs for hundreds of dollars. Those dogs at the shelter need a home as much or more than any thoroughbred. Right now, I’m just not sure I can give a home to one of those other dogs. And I am not posting any of this to keep anyone reading from adopting a dog from a shelter. That is not what this is about, and I think that's the worst thing you could take away from all of this. You run risks in losing anyone you want to get attached to, and I don't think Jamie and I really knew how much we wanted this little dog until we couldn't have her anymore.
Mel is sweetly oblivious to all of this. All he knows is that there is an empty metal kennel in the living room and a couple of bowls sitting empty inside. And I know I’m really, really lucky to have a great dog who I hope I treat better than people who let their dogs wind up in tiny cement cells.
We’ll fold up the kennel tomorrow, and we’ll try the shelter again in the future, but right now, we’re still saying good-bye to the dog who never got the chance to come home with us.
Bye-bye, little doggy. Bye-bye.
Monday, June 30, 2003
message in a bottle
The past few days have seemed longer than an ordinary weekend, and I hope to be able to blog tomorrow evening and fill you in a little more on the hows and whys. Nothing traumatic has happened, and nothing particularly crazy has happened.
Over the weekend I received two packages. One package broke down all sense of the digital and physical realm for me as RHPT.com sent me, completely unannounced, a comic book from the Death of Superman series in very, very good condition. gracias, Randy! Which book? I cannot say! This book is wrapped in a white, mylar collector's sleeve. Breaking the sleeve would render the comic suddenly worthless. So for now, I must speculate. I plan to track down the number and cover of this comic in the next few days and weeks.
I have most certainly READ this comic as I have Trade Paperbacks of the whole life and death of Superman run, but there's no cover to clue me in to what is what.
Patrotism met consumerism met my mother's strange gift-giving habits on Friday. I returned home from work and some friendly co-worker oriented boozing to find a white box on my stoop. Please understand that my mum is a good person. She's really terrific, and as much as she loves me, puppies and this grand Republic, sometimes her excitememnt gets the best of her. And so, this weekend, I received two beach towels.
Now the point here is, look... I love my country, and I love my mother. And I love puppies and kitties, too. And I even like going to the beach. But the upswell in patriotic grandiosity does not necessarily mean I want to mix all of these things together. Is this kind of tacky, or is it an act against our nation? Would such a scene cause Ann Coulter to point to me, my mother, or these packs of whiskers and noses as treasonous? What effect would this have upon mi mum if they passed an amendment saying you could not deface the flag? Could we both get in trouble for shipping tasteless towels interstate? Only the future will tell.
Oh, by the way, this is the most fun this country has had since the Jim Crow laws were removed... An AMENDMENT!!!! Not a law, not a writ, not Pat Robertson barking to himself on the 700 Club... A CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT forbidding two people from openly acknowledging their love. I love my country, but some days I am amazed at what we do.
Over the weekend I received two packages. One package broke down all sense of the digital and physical realm for me as RHPT.com sent me, completely unannounced, a comic book from the Death of Superman series in very, very good condition. gracias, Randy! Which book? I cannot say! This book is wrapped in a white, mylar collector's sleeve. Breaking the sleeve would render the comic suddenly worthless. So for now, I must speculate. I plan to track down the number and cover of this comic in the next few days and weeks.
I have most certainly READ this comic as I have Trade Paperbacks of the whole life and death of Superman run, but there's no cover to clue me in to what is what.
Patrotism met consumerism met my mother's strange gift-giving habits on Friday. I returned home from work and some friendly co-worker oriented boozing to find a white box on my stoop. Please understand that my mum is a good person. She's really terrific, and as much as she loves me, puppies and this grand Republic, sometimes her excitememnt gets the best of her. And so, this weekend, I received two beach towels.
Now the point here is, look... I love my country, and I love my mother. And I love puppies and kitties, too. And I even like going to the beach. But the upswell in patriotic grandiosity does not necessarily mean I want to mix all of these things together. Is this kind of tacky, or is it an act against our nation? Would such a scene cause Ann Coulter to point to me, my mother, or these packs of whiskers and noses as treasonous? What effect would this have upon mi mum if they passed an amendment saying you could not deface the flag? Could we both get in trouble for shipping tasteless towels interstate? Only the future will tell.
Oh, by the way, this is the most fun this country has had since the Jim Crow laws were removed... An AMENDMENT!!!! Not a law, not a writ, not Pat Robertson barking to himself on the 700 Club... A CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT forbidding two people from openly acknowledging their love. I love my country, but some days I am amazed at what we do.
Friday, June 27, 2003
guilt
I have nothing to write about today. Sorry. I do suggest you take part of the most important legislation ever devised and go on over to the Federal Trade Commission's web-site. They've instituted the government's plan to create "do not call" list for telemarketers.
I suggest that if you're looking for a good read today, you try your local paper.
In the meantime, here is a poem:
Like a graceful porpoise
I FLY!
I suggest that if you're looking for a good read today, you try your local paper.
In the meantime, here is a poem:
Like a graceful porpoise
I FLY!
Thursday, June 26, 2003
Blogging article
RHPT.com sent me this link: All that is said herein is true. Except for having lots of readers. Randy, Jamie, Jim... your attention is appreciated.
www.hotchubbyboy.com
UPDATE!!!!
You can now link to this blog by clicking on www.hotchubbyboy.com
RHPT.com was nice enough (either that or he has evil, evil plans in the works) to assign this link to The League. What will this mean for The League? I don't know. Keep tuning in to watch the slow dissolution of my site into one celebrating my nakedness.
You can now link to this blog by clicking on www.hotchubbyboy.com
RHPT.com was nice enough (either that or he has evil, evil plans in the works) to assign this link to The League. What will this mean for The League? I don't know. Keep tuning in to watch the slow dissolution of my site into one celebrating my nakedness.
Toys That Should Not Be
Just when you think there's nothing to navel gaze about...
Toys That Should Not Be is a segment dedicated to toys which I find on an Action Figure website. I don't just collect comics ad infinitum, I also likes me the Superman and Batman toys. And I like to make fun of other people for having similar interests.
What you may not know is that there are a LOT of toys produced for the adult collector these days. In other words, I ASSUME that these are going to adults, and that they are being collected and not played with. But I may be wrong. But TTSNB is more of a Zen thing which requires an example more than an explanation. And so, ladies and gentlemen, I present you with Perfect Body Figures from a company called, I think, Cy-Girls.
You know, I have often fantasized about women with 8 points of articulation and weird, poofy hair. Karate chop fingers and grotesquely hinged knee joints are a big turn on. I think it should have been a clue to these doll makers that something was hooribly wrong when these figures were unable to stand upright due to their curiously oversized heads and bosoms. It should have also been a clue to these doll makers that something was wrong when they started making dolls to have sexual fantasies about. But I digress and pass judgement.
In addition to these anonymous, mis-shapen lovelies, there are more than one line of figures portraying Adult Superstars (I think one is called Adult Superstars) which portrays porn stars as tiny six inch figures. Freud would be going apeshit over all of this, to be sure. For example, here is Jenna Jameson. Word on the street is that laser scan of the actual porn star is done to get these figures "accurate".
The article about 6 inch Jenna is tucked into the main page right between an article on a Friday the 13th Jason Doll and a Harry Potter Dueling Malfoy toy. A little something for everyone.
I feel compelled to also point out that Batman and Superman, themselves, have some kinky new toys out. Here's Peeping Tom Batman and Sex Dungeon Superman.
Toys That Should Not Be is a segment dedicated to toys which I find on an Action Figure website. I don't just collect comics ad infinitum, I also likes me the Superman and Batman toys. And I like to make fun of other people for having similar interests.
What you may not know is that there are a LOT of toys produced for the adult collector these days. In other words, I ASSUME that these are going to adults, and that they are being collected and not played with. But I may be wrong. But TTSNB is more of a Zen thing which requires an example more than an explanation. And so, ladies and gentlemen, I present you with Perfect Body Figures from a company called, I think, Cy-Girls.
You know, I have often fantasized about women with 8 points of articulation and weird, poofy hair. Karate chop fingers and grotesquely hinged knee joints are a big turn on. I think it should have been a clue to these doll makers that something was hooribly wrong when these figures were unable to stand upright due to their curiously oversized heads and bosoms. It should have also been a clue to these doll makers that something was wrong when they started making dolls to have sexual fantasies about. But I digress and pass judgement.
In addition to these anonymous, mis-shapen lovelies, there are more than one line of figures portraying Adult Superstars (I think one is called Adult Superstars) which portrays porn stars as tiny six inch figures. Freud would be going apeshit over all of this, to be sure. For example, here is Jenna Jameson. Word on the street is that laser scan of the actual porn star is done to get these figures "accurate".
The article about 6 inch Jenna is tucked into the main page right between an article on a Friday the 13th Jason Doll and a Harry Potter Dueling Malfoy toy. A little something for everyone.
I feel compelled to also point out that Batman and Superman, themselves, have some kinky new toys out. Here's Peeping Tom Batman and Sex Dungeon Superman.
Wednesday, June 25, 2003
Happy Birthday RHPT
Happy Birthday, Randy. And don't worry so much about the endless futility of existence. Unless you plan to have 100s of children to begin to disseminate your chromosomes throughout the gene pool, your legacy will probably be that of most people. My suggestion: donate sperm and donate often. The more you donate sperm, the more offspring you will have and the more likelihood you will have of the RHPT genome determining the course of human evolution.
This option may be cold comfort as you turn 27, but it does give you plenty of exposure to pornography and will ensure that in 100 generations, we'll all have a little Randy in us.
This option may be cold comfort as you turn 27, but it does give you plenty of exposure to pornography and will ensure that in 100 generations, we'll all have a little Randy in us.
Some interesting links
A look at the comic convention scene (something I haven't seen since I was but a wee lad going to hotel ballrooms all over Austin, Texas. My mother is a saint for driving me. She never complained, not once.)
A site recommended to me by Jeff C. Shoemaker. It's a fairly good read, I think, but the usual insanity inherent in sites dedicated to comics froths over. When I read reviews of Superman which slip into personal anecdotes about Superman replacing one's estranged Dad, I decide that some objectivity has been lost and I'm not sure I want to add this into the links section of The League.
And Jim sent me this link for a job at Los Alamos. If you read between the lines it becomes pretty clear that the job is to be a spin doctor at a nuclear laboratory. "Uh... Dr. Banner is recovering just fine... just fine..."
A site recommended to me by Jeff C. Shoemaker. It's a fairly good read, I think, but the usual insanity inherent in sites dedicated to comics froths over. When I read reviews of Superman which slip into personal anecdotes about Superman replacing one's estranged Dad, I decide that some objectivity has been lost and I'm not sure I want to add this into the links section of The League.
And Jim sent me this link for a job at Los Alamos. If you read between the lines it becomes pretty clear that the job is to be a spin doctor at a nuclear laboratory. "Uh... Dr. Banner is recovering just fine... just fine..."
Tinman and The Falcon
During my late-college/ post-college years I was pretty good friends with some guys in a band in Austin. Wow. Who isn't? Well, summer of 2000 these guys picked up and decided to move to Seattle so the band could slowly disintegrate in a more hospitable climate. I doubt anyone from Austin would remember the band, but they got good notices while it lasted and they did some seriously overly-indulgent space/ prog rock under the name Maximum Coherence During Flying.
We were all kind of into sci-fi and pulp and comics and whatnot, and so it was a year or two after their flight to the Pacific Northwest that I got a call from Bryan Manzo, guitarist/ saxophonist/ composer for MaxCo who had come upon an idea. He was going to work with Michael (My) Young to write a rock opera, and I was going to draw a series of comic books that would illustrate the story.
You kids who don't follow comics don't know this, but getting into the comics industry is about as easy and much fun as getting your head out from the bannister rails. Even compared to film and television, comics is cut-throat crazy competitive. Virtually every 20+ who reads comics wants to get into the field, and I am no different. But drawing comics is really, really time intensive. Let alone also inking the pages. Especially when you've doodled a lot but never really done anything that formal before.
But the problem was, there was no music and no story, just some characters and a title: A Spy Named Lonely.
So I had four characters who were supposed to be pulpy as pulp can get: The Tin-Man (a robot), the Falcon (a private eye), Lonely (a beautiful spy), and Dr. Archibald Nemesis (a despotic tyrant). I drew some pre-lims and sent them up to Seattle where I pretty much got the thumbs-up, and was told to do some more pre-lims based on a paragraph of notes, and wait for the music. So I waited. And waited. And waited. And about a year later, Bryan caught me with some weird, weird information.
Bryan's girlfriend somehow knew someone who knew Karen Berger. Karen Berger is the editor supreme of Vertigo comics. She's the woman who launched 10 years of mind-altering insanity within the prickly confines of DC Comics, a feat thought almost unimaginable until Hellblazer, Shade, Sandman and Swamp Thing proved comics could do a lot more than leap over tall buildings is a single bound. We had until August to get a package together.
And so suddenly I was drawing. I had an MP3 Bryan and My had sent me and it was February and everything was cool. I would do ten or twelve pages, we would show them penciled and inked and be able to say "AND THERE'S A FULL ALBUM THAT GOES WITH THIS!!!"
So in March, after six or seven months of experiencing the post dot.bomb blues, Jamie landed a job in Phoenix. And then I got the call from Bryan. "Oh, my God, dude. My girlfriend's friend is flying down to Australia to meet the guys who did the Matrix and she wants to bring a portfolio and pitch them Tinman and Falcon."
"The Wachowskis?"
"Yeah. She thinks they'd love it."
"This is dumb. You guys need a better artist."
"No way. We have to have it in two weeks."
"I still haven't heard the music or read a real synopsis."
"Oh."
So, I drew what I could. And in this same time, my wife was packing her belongings and moving to Phoenix where I was to be joining her June 1, 2002. Needless to say, I was distracted. That, and I did have a job. And a house to pack. But I drew. And I kissed Jamie good-bye.
And then the record showed up as a couple of burned CDs that were only partially mixed, and alone in my cardboard enclosed house, I listened to it, and I realized I had somewhere in the neighborhood of 17 drawings to do, ink, scan and send in within a few days. Plus a job. But at least I liked the music. So I sat down and finished I can't remember how many drawings in a much shorter span than I was comfortable with. But I scanned the drawings and sent them to Seattle.
And then Yoko stepped in. Bryan's girlfriend called me at work and told me that she didn't like the look of the Tin-Man, that she wanted something more like Robocop and could I redo everything, please? In three days. I said there was no way (and this wasn't just pride, there were serious time issues involved). She refused to relent, and then it occurred to me that neither Bryan nor My had requested the changes, and I didn't know this chick, and she had called me five times in two days. So I quit.
Well, several frantic phone calls later and I was back on board and the girlfriend was booted, but it was made clear she was glad I was far, far away. But we got what we needed, and off went the package and we never heard from anyone about it ever again.
The Karen Berger thing fizzled too, as Bryan and girl started having difficulties.
And one day the Tinman and Falcon web-site surfaced using almost none of the new art, and just the prelim sketches I knocked out in about two hours. I complained loudly, but the damage was done. My had spent several days on the animated intro, and he was not going to redo it. I could empathize.
But then, one night at 2:30am, My popped up on my AIM. "Hey dude. Brad Pitt digs T&F."
Apparently Bryan's newest lady friend was a former assistant to Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston, and they had remained chummy. So she sent them the Tinman and Falcon web-site.
But that was it. I did a handful of drawings, totaling around 11 or 12 for the series. None of them were ever posted, even after I sent some nice scans and forwarded them on to Seattle. But maybe it's just as well. As much as I loved working on the drawings, the rock opera was running around 80 minutes and WAS ONLY THE FIRST ACT. God knows how long this could have gone on.
But, the site is still up! So, I invite all of you to visit the site, listen to some of the tunes, and read the back story on the site. It was a lot of fun and would probably still be going on if Bryan and My hadn't joined an 80's electro-pop quartet that eats up most of their time. But, ah, fame is so fleeting. Brad, why didn't you call us? We could have made millions, bro! At least I didn't get a second mortgage on my house to make a documentary nobody is ever going to want to see. It just cost time and money for markers and pencils.
I ask that you understand that these were never intended to be final versions of the drawings on the T&F site, but I guess My liked them... these were rough, rough prelims. Hopefully one of you will convince them to post the finished works they do have in their possession. But I encourage everyone to click on "Music" and listen to the album. It's free and it's easy to do. And, yes, it is supposed to be this cheesy.
Ladies and Gentlemen... I give you Tinman and The Falcon. Be afraid. be very afraid.
We were all kind of into sci-fi and pulp and comics and whatnot, and so it was a year or two after their flight to the Pacific Northwest that I got a call from Bryan Manzo, guitarist/ saxophonist/ composer for MaxCo who had come upon an idea. He was going to work with Michael (My) Young to write a rock opera, and I was going to draw a series of comic books that would illustrate the story.
You kids who don't follow comics don't know this, but getting into the comics industry is about as easy and much fun as getting your head out from the bannister rails. Even compared to film and television, comics is cut-throat crazy competitive. Virtually every 20+ who reads comics wants to get into the field, and I am no different. But drawing comics is really, really time intensive. Let alone also inking the pages. Especially when you've doodled a lot but never really done anything that formal before.
But the problem was, there was no music and no story, just some characters and a title: A Spy Named Lonely.
So I had four characters who were supposed to be pulpy as pulp can get: The Tin-Man (a robot), the Falcon (a private eye), Lonely (a beautiful spy), and Dr. Archibald Nemesis (a despotic tyrant). I drew some pre-lims and sent them up to Seattle where I pretty much got the thumbs-up, and was told to do some more pre-lims based on a paragraph of notes, and wait for the music. So I waited. And waited. And waited. And about a year later, Bryan caught me with some weird, weird information.
Bryan's girlfriend somehow knew someone who knew Karen Berger. Karen Berger is the editor supreme of Vertigo comics. She's the woman who launched 10 years of mind-altering insanity within the prickly confines of DC Comics, a feat thought almost unimaginable until Hellblazer, Shade, Sandman and Swamp Thing proved comics could do a lot more than leap over tall buildings is a single bound. We had until August to get a package together.
And so suddenly I was drawing. I had an MP3 Bryan and My had sent me and it was February and everything was cool. I would do ten or twelve pages, we would show them penciled and inked and be able to say "AND THERE'S A FULL ALBUM THAT GOES WITH THIS!!!"
So in March, after six or seven months of experiencing the post dot.bomb blues, Jamie landed a job in Phoenix. And then I got the call from Bryan. "Oh, my God, dude. My girlfriend's friend is flying down to Australia to meet the guys who did the Matrix and she wants to bring a portfolio and pitch them Tinman and Falcon."
"The Wachowskis?"
"Yeah. She thinks they'd love it."
"This is dumb. You guys need a better artist."
"No way. We have to have it in two weeks."
"I still haven't heard the music or read a real synopsis."
"Oh."
So, I drew what I could. And in this same time, my wife was packing her belongings and moving to Phoenix where I was to be joining her June 1, 2002. Needless to say, I was distracted. That, and I did have a job. And a house to pack. But I drew. And I kissed Jamie good-bye.
And then the record showed up as a couple of burned CDs that were only partially mixed, and alone in my cardboard enclosed house, I listened to it, and I realized I had somewhere in the neighborhood of 17 drawings to do, ink, scan and send in within a few days. Plus a job. But at least I liked the music. So I sat down and finished I can't remember how many drawings in a much shorter span than I was comfortable with. But I scanned the drawings and sent them to Seattle.
And then Yoko stepped in. Bryan's girlfriend called me at work and told me that she didn't like the look of the Tin-Man, that she wanted something more like Robocop and could I redo everything, please? In three days. I said there was no way (and this wasn't just pride, there were serious time issues involved). She refused to relent, and then it occurred to me that neither Bryan nor My had requested the changes, and I didn't know this chick, and she had called me five times in two days. So I quit.
Well, several frantic phone calls later and I was back on board and the girlfriend was booted, but it was made clear she was glad I was far, far away. But we got what we needed, and off went the package and we never heard from anyone about it ever again.
The Karen Berger thing fizzled too, as Bryan and girl started having difficulties.
And one day the Tinman and Falcon web-site surfaced using almost none of the new art, and just the prelim sketches I knocked out in about two hours. I complained loudly, but the damage was done. My had spent several days on the animated intro, and he was not going to redo it. I could empathize.
But then, one night at 2:30am, My popped up on my AIM. "Hey dude. Brad Pitt digs T&F."
Apparently Bryan's newest lady friend was a former assistant to Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston, and they had remained chummy. So she sent them the Tinman and Falcon web-site.
But that was it. I did a handful of drawings, totaling around 11 or 12 for the series. None of them were ever posted, even after I sent some nice scans and forwarded them on to Seattle. But maybe it's just as well. As much as I loved working on the drawings, the rock opera was running around 80 minutes and WAS ONLY THE FIRST ACT. God knows how long this could have gone on.
But, the site is still up! So, I invite all of you to visit the site, listen to some of the tunes, and read the back story on the site. It was a lot of fun and would probably still be going on if Bryan and My hadn't joined an 80's electro-pop quartet that eats up most of their time. But, ah, fame is so fleeting. Brad, why didn't you call us? We could have made millions, bro! At least I didn't get a second mortgage on my house to make a documentary nobody is ever going to want to see. It just cost time and money for markers and pencils.
I ask that you understand that these were never intended to be final versions of the drawings on the T&F site, but I guess My liked them... these were rough, rough prelims. Hopefully one of you will convince them to post the finished works they do have in their possession. But I encourage everyone to click on "Music" and listen to the album. It's free and it's easy to do. And, yes, it is supposed to be this cheesy.
Ladies and Gentlemen... I give you Tinman and The Falcon. Be afraid. be very afraid.
Tuesday, June 24, 2003
Fredrick Wertham was a psychiatrist who had worked at Bellevue Mental Hospital and had spent years studying patients with anti-social characteristics when he published "Seduction of the Innocent." The book caused a massive amount of hysteria, leading to discussions in the US Congress over the corrupting influence of comics on children, and led both directly and indirectly to the strange beast that the comic industry has become today. You'll note that even in the review I've linked to, the reviewer doesn't seem to think Wertham was all that far off base despite 50 years of evidence have proven him wrong.
I don't usually read "Unlearned Hand", but lawyer and comic philanthropist Jim D. forwarded me a posting from this legal site regarding a strange law that is on the books in California regarding EC Comics style horror comics.
My comments appear there as well as Jim D.'s.
I do suggest you take a look at this link to read up on an example of what can happen when good intentions lead to mass hysteria. Even within the comments, someone chooses to take a shot at the broadside of the barn and criticizes the merits of comics as literature. Sigh. Who Watches the Watchmen?
A bright spot of my week, in addition to seeing the Hulk, was the 2 hour special called Superheroes Unmasked on the History Channel. The show focuses on superhero comics and the people who made them. It looks at cultural relevance, both as an influence on pop culture, and how contemporary issues define the genre. Luminaries such as Dennis O'Neil, Steranko, Frank Miller, Neil Gaiman, Stan Lee, Will Eisner, Paul Levitz and Michael Chabon participate in the discussion. While very little in the interviews was new to me, it was great to see some of these guys for the first time on video (for me, anyway).
The show does make no small potatos of Wertham's influence and how, even today, the industry is fighting against public perception issues caused by the hysteria. Check it out. It's a lot of fun. And it made me want to seek out as much 60's era Nick Fury, Agent of SHIELD as I can find. And they did talk about King Kirby, but not enough, for my liking.
I don't usually read "Unlearned Hand", but lawyer and comic philanthropist Jim D. forwarded me a posting from this legal site regarding a strange law that is on the books in California regarding EC Comics style horror comics.
My comments appear there as well as Jim D.'s.
I do suggest you take a look at this link to read up on an example of what can happen when good intentions lead to mass hysteria. Even within the comments, someone chooses to take a shot at the broadside of the barn and criticizes the merits of comics as literature. Sigh. Who Watches the Watchmen?
A bright spot of my week, in addition to seeing the Hulk, was the 2 hour special called Superheroes Unmasked on the History Channel. The show focuses on superhero comics and the people who made them. It looks at cultural relevance, both as an influence on pop culture, and how contemporary issues define the genre. Luminaries such as Dennis O'Neil, Steranko, Frank Miller, Neil Gaiman, Stan Lee, Will Eisner, Paul Levitz and Michael Chabon participate in the discussion. While very little in the interviews was new to me, it was great to see some of these guys for the first time on video (for me, anyway).
The show does make no small potatos of Wertham's influence and how, even today, the industry is fighting against public perception issues caused by the hysteria. Check it out. It's a lot of fun. And it made me want to seek out as much 60's era Nick Fury, Agent of SHIELD as I can find. And they did talk about King Kirby, but not enough, for my liking.
This was a clip from an e-mail conversation i had with Jim yesterday. He suggested I post it.
I am actually beginning to get a sneaking suspicion that I am a liberal. it's okay. Labels make me nervous, that's all. I am very conservative about some things, though. For instance, I refuse to use zippers and I wear buckles on my shoes and I think any girl who doesn't cover her ankles in public is a dirty, dirty harlot.
I am actually beginning to get a sneaking suspicion that I am a liberal. it's okay. Labels make me nervous, that's all. I am very conservative about some things, though. For instance, I refuse to use zippers and I wear buckles on my shoes and I think any girl who doesn't cover her ankles in public is a dirty, dirty harlot.
Monday, June 23, 2003
Someone posted this blog to the Hulk page on the IMDB sites. The League is suddenly popular. No longer are random visitors coming in looking for various naked celebrities. I have seen a marked increase in visits whenever I mention a celebrity. Most recent examples include Ron Perlman and Marcia Gay Harden.
I hope no one is getting their rocks off to this site, because that would upset Melbotis greatly. He wants to be respected for his mind, not just his body.
I hope no one is getting their rocks off to this site, because that would upset Melbotis greatly. He wants to be respected for his mind, not just his body.
One thing I really dig about the Superman Homepage is that site coordinator Steve Younis has managed to get Superman Editor Supreme Eddie Berganza to participate. Once every month or so, Eddie responds to a few letters. Every month I send in something, just because. Well, this month my letter was picked, so I am Super excited! They no longer publish letter columns in the back of comics, so this is pretty much the equivalent.
to read my question, click here
Jim asked that I post my tale of how I tried, in my own way, to pull a Cool Hand Luke with the Univ. of Texas Police a few years ago when I was given a $20 parking citation. Well, the story isn't very good, but this story reminded me of the event.
Anyhoo, I received a ticket that, by all rights, I should have received as I had parked in a lot I had no permit for. At the time I was making less than $20K a year working for UT, and paying over $100 for a C-permit which DID NOT guarantee me a parking spot seemed steep. Anyway, I had to be at work and nobody was in the lot as it was winter break. Also, until the day before the UTPD had publicly stated they were not patrolling these lots, so anyone could park there.
SO... I parked there and I was easy pickings as one of maybe two dozen cars in the lot. Ticket was $20.00.
So I wrote a letter and refused to pay, pointing out there was no UT Jail (more on that later). Some grouch at the office wrote back a very nasty letter and told me that refusal to pay was going to mess SOMETHING up for me, but I can't remember what. I think I was going to get a warrant from the Austin PD as UT hands over it's tickets after a few months.
So I wrote a check for $19.99.
This illicited a negative response from the UTPD, but the idea was that they would spend all that time and money trying to collect on a single penny, and if you know UT collections, the actual sum has nothing to do with what they're trying to accomplish. No, the miserable wretches want you to know they own your ass.
They wrote me another nasty letter telling me that I owed a penny. I wrote them back and told them I thought I had paid a fair amount and I would genuinely appreciate it if they would quit harassing me. I also pointed out that even with metered mail, they were now losing money pursuing this. THey wrote me back saying that I owed a penny, and would I please pay.
Luckily, mi hermano es un attorney. It was at this point that I wrote them a letter and told them I paid what I thought fair, but if they wanted to pursue the $0.01, my attorney was happy to go to court. I left a name and phone number at which he could be reached (his boss's office). It was at this point that the $0.01 disappeared from my record.
It turns out there IS a UT jail. They have a cell or two somewhere on campus to hold folks drunk on campus, etc... I had no idea. One of my friends girlfriends got tossed in for a crime I'd rather not detail here.
UT also later ticketed me for parking at the conference center despite the fact I was at a conference at the center. The conversation I had on the phone with the troglodyte in collections was like a scene out of Catch-22.
"But I was at a conference!"
"UT employees cannot park in the lot."
"But people attending conferences park there."
"Yes."
"And I paid to attend."
"Ok."
"So I parked there."
"UT employees cannot park in the lot."
"But I was at a conference at the conference center."
"Did you have your UT parking permit tag in your window?"
"yes."
"THen you cannot park in the lot."
"So if I had taken my tag off, they would have left me alone?"
"Yes."
"That doesn't make sense."
"You left your tag in the window. UT employees are not to park in the lot."
"Why?"
"Because UT employees are forbidden from parking in the lot."
"I wasn't abusing the policy. I was legitimately at a conference. I have receipts I can FAX you."
"So you were at a conference at the center?"
"YES!"
"UT employees aren't supposed to park there."
Eventually I used the ultimate threat of asking to speak with her supervisor, so instead of that she reduced my ticket to a warning, which sent me off on a whole string of obscenities. "It wasn't illegal!"
"Sir, i am doing you a favor!"
But sometimes you pick your battles, and so I let that one go and paid nothing.
to read my question, click here
Jim asked that I post my tale of how I tried, in my own way, to pull a Cool Hand Luke with the Univ. of Texas Police a few years ago when I was given a $20 parking citation. Well, the story isn't very good, but this story reminded me of the event.
Anyhoo, I received a ticket that, by all rights, I should have received as I had parked in a lot I had no permit for. At the time I was making less than $20K a year working for UT, and paying over $100 for a C-permit which DID NOT guarantee me a parking spot seemed steep. Anyway, I had to be at work and nobody was in the lot as it was winter break. Also, until the day before the UTPD had publicly stated they were not patrolling these lots, so anyone could park there.
SO... I parked there and I was easy pickings as one of maybe two dozen cars in the lot. Ticket was $20.00.
So I wrote a letter and refused to pay, pointing out there was no UT Jail (more on that later). Some grouch at the office wrote back a very nasty letter and told me that refusal to pay was going to mess SOMETHING up for me, but I can't remember what. I think I was going to get a warrant from the Austin PD as UT hands over it's tickets after a few months.
So I wrote a check for $19.99.
This illicited a negative response from the UTPD, but the idea was that they would spend all that time and money trying to collect on a single penny, and if you know UT collections, the actual sum has nothing to do with what they're trying to accomplish. No, the miserable wretches want you to know they own your ass.
They wrote me another nasty letter telling me that I owed a penny. I wrote them back and told them I thought I had paid a fair amount and I would genuinely appreciate it if they would quit harassing me. I also pointed out that even with metered mail, they were now losing money pursuing this. THey wrote me back saying that I owed a penny, and would I please pay.
Luckily, mi hermano es un attorney. It was at this point that I wrote them a letter and told them I paid what I thought fair, but if they wanted to pursue the $0.01, my attorney was happy to go to court. I left a name and phone number at which he could be reached (his boss's office). It was at this point that the $0.01 disappeared from my record.
It turns out there IS a UT jail. They have a cell or two somewhere on campus to hold folks drunk on campus, etc... I had no idea. One of my friends girlfriends got tossed in for a crime I'd rather not detail here.
UT also later ticketed me for parking at the conference center despite the fact I was at a conference at the center. The conversation I had on the phone with the troglodyte in collections was like a scene out of Catch-22.
"But I was at a conference!"
"UT employees cannot park in the lot."
"But people attending conferences park there."
"Yes."
"And I paid to attend."
"Ok."
"So I parked there."
"UT employees cannot park in the lot."
"But I was at a conference at the conference center."
"Did you have your UT parking permit tag in your window?"
"yes."
"THen you cannot park in the lot."
"So if I had taken my tag off, they would have left me alone?"
"Yes."
"That doesn't make sense."
"You left your tag in the window. UT employees are not to park in the lot."
"Why?"
"Because UT employees are forbidden from parking in the lot."
"I wasn't abusing the policy. I was legitimately at a conference. I have receipts I can FAX you."
"So you were at a conference at the center?"
"YES!"
"UT employees aren't supposed to park there."
Eventually I used the ultimate threat of asking to speak with her supervisor, so instead of that she reduced my ticket to a warning, which sent me off on a whole string of obscenities. "It wasn't illegal!"
"Sir, i am doing you a favor!"
But sometimes you pick your battles, and so I let that one go and paid nothing.
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