LEAGUE TASTE TEST
The regrettable "mallow" hot dog


What is mallow? We've all had a marshmallow at some point, either roasted on a stick over a campfire, buried in our Lucky Charms or tucked between chocolate and a graham cracker. But what is Mallow?

Friday night I was buying a sno-cone (bubble-gum flavored) and perusing the candy aisle when a certain something caught my eye. The Mallow Dog.



The MALLOW DOG

It looked like a hotdog, but was not. I'm always a fan of food that is meant to look like one type of food, but is not. Example: Swedish Fish. Also, Runts. Those little gummy hamburgers. Etc...

If a hot dog is a veritable cornucopia of animal by-product, what could a mallow dog possibly contain?



Only a buck forty-nine!

The packaging promised "All American 'Fun'". I'm an American. I like fun. Maybe not "fun", but I like fun. I suspect the copy writer for the package was all too-aware of what lay in store for the consumer.

I think "fun" is a pretty apropos term for most items that you can get at the "Water & Ice" store. It also applies to most forms of "fun" in Chandler, AZ.




The Mallow Dog experiences freedom, like a good American

The texture was sort of powdery and squishy, but still firm enough to hold it's shape. Firmer, indeed, than a Jet-Puffed marshmallow. And it smelled like cheap, cheap perfume.





All American?

The mallow dog's ingredients were listed in a way which seemed to indicate that the producer was listing them only grudgingly. Also, I noticed the mallow dog had been made in China and imported to San Diego. It truly was all American.

You can click on the picture for greater detail.




VS!

We tried a side-by-side comparison of mallow dog versus hot dog. Suddenly the mallow dog looked woefully unappetizing in a way it just hadn't before. It looked like some sort of muppet-inspired prop food which had escaped an acid-fueled nightmare. And it smelled really bad.



ehhhhhh

there's that smell. God. That's awful.





...ehhhh....

i briefly consider an abort. After all, this isn't technically food. It's a mix of organic and inorganic substances which will not necessarily kill me if it passes through my GI tract.





Who wants to live forever..?

There's a well-learned fear in my eyes here. Obviously my brain was trying to stop me from doing this, but me and Mr. Brain haven't been on speaking terms in two decades.





nummy

this photo was taken about four seconds before regret kicked in.





regret

Whoop. There's that regret.

Yeah, that thing tastes sort of like a big asprin, but with the texture of a foam pillow, or maybe packing materials.

In reviewing these photos I also realize I should have showered between mowing the lawn and the taste test. I think we're looking at about 30 hours without a shower here.




expulsion!

Jamie was not fast enough to get a photo of me expectorating the mallow dog into the trash (see how neatly we pile our recycling...?)





not real food

I don't know what the hell this thing was supposed to be. it wasn't good and it didn't taste like anything fit for human consumption. I am no ccloser to understanding what the hell mallow is, but I do know I'm not going to keep up this line of research.





False advertising

Can I sue for this? This wasn't a great tasting anything. This thing tasted like sugar and bad perfume.





never again

And thus ended the taste test.

On the whole, this sort of ruined my appreaciation for foods that look like other foods, but you kind of have to appreciate the fact that we live in a world where you can make a fake hot dog out of marshmallows in a factory in China, ship it to the US where it is finally sealed, and then send it out to be consumed by dudes like The League. That's what a free market economy is all about.

It's all about "fun".

ALL HAIL THE ADMIRAL
for today is his big birthday

Happy B-Day, Admiral! I hope they got you a cake or something at work to celebrate the glorious event.

The Admiral is a decent guy. Born in New Jersey, he quickly picked up stakes and left the Garden State to move to sunny Dade County, Florida. Raised in the southern sun and with entirely too much sea air, the Admiral mostly spent his days filling buckets with gasoline, throwing in handfuls of bullets and adding a lit match. Perhaps this was his way of trying to escape from the shadow of Uncle B (International Man of Mystery) who had made such an impression on most of southern Florida.

The Admiral up and joined the Air Force, where he found himself working on radios and a good tan out on the flight line. This was, of course, before he was deployed to a mysterious land we know today as Vietnam, where the admiral spent his evenings ducking for cover and his days trading cigarettes for Ho-Ho's.

From Vietnam The Admiral was then sent to the Mid-West where he was accidentally stationed at KI Sawyer AFB in the snowy wastelands of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. It was here, in a drunken stupor, that The Admiral first caught the eye of the KareBear. They're still beer-goggling it almost 40 years later, God bless 'em. Legend has it that the KareBear was a mean, mean dancer in her day. Word has it that the Admiral was four-sheets to the wind in order to gather up the courage to talk to my Ma. Well, he got in the first word, but she's still chatting on 40 years later.

We're a little hazy as to the next 25 years or so, but here's how we think it went.

The Admiral was more or less honorably dischared from the Air Force, got engaged to the KareBear at some point, and then headed back to Florida to make quick use of his GI Bill dough. So, some community college and a wedding later, The Admiral nabbed KareBear, removed her from her native habitat of igloos and polar bears and dropped her into South Florida.

At some point The Admiral was accepted to U of Florida, where he earned his bachelor's degree and rolled right into his MBA, which the Karebear was bankrolling on her fat public teacher's salary. Karebear got her Masters in Reading Ed, and this is pretty much where I start to feel uncomfortable about having not completed my post-secondary education. Anyway, The Admiral became an accountant of sorts and went to work at an aerospace company crunching numbers. Jason came along about that time, spawned from the swamps of Lake Okeechobee, and The Admiral decided that Ford might provide some opportunity. So, they loaded up the car and moved back to Michigan.

They were lucky enough to be blessed with what I like to believe was my completely planned-upon arrival about a year and a half-later.

I have two very early memories of my Dad: 1) Going to see Star Wars and 2) Going to see Superman. I have no idea why KareBear wasn't there, but The Admiral knew what a young mind needed to see to grow properly. I also remember him being there for Empire, Superman II, and taking us to a sneak preview of "The Last Starfighter." He is a sci-fi geek, The Admiral is.

Anyhoo, for some reason The Admiral skipped out on Ford, and when I was four we moved to Dallas where I have my first memories of The Admiral walking around in ill-fitting shorts. That was a lot of Saturdays. He was game and got involved in Indian Guides (the least PC, but most entertaining organization I've ever been involved with).

Shortly thereafter we wound up in Houston where the Admiral decided I needed to learn to mow the lawn. I've never really forgiven him for that. But he did give me one really good bit of advice: keep your fingers away from the blades. In Houston the Admiral became a linesman for my soccer matches, and I have very firm memories of seeing him zipping up and down the sidelines wearing a baseball hat and putting a lot of dramatic flair into letting folks know who last kicked the ball.

Also, the Admiral read the paper a lot. I have lots of memories of standing behind the paper while the Admiral tried to relax in his easy chair, while I tried to figure out how to get his attention without causing too much noise.

Always up for getting out of the house, he took me to see "Bambi" instead of "Delta Force" when I was 7 or 8. And he took me to see Footloose, The Black Stallion and a whole bunch of other movies that had nothing to do with being manly.

In 1984 we all picked up and moved to Austin for the first time. The Admiral accidentally selected an odd blue color for our house, believing he'd picked a slate-gray. I've never forgotten that particular family spat. However, it did make our house easy to find.

It was in Austin that The Admiral began to refer to The League as "Boy". As in "Boy, get out there and mow the lawn." A practice which continues to this day.

The Admiral worked a lot, and I recall spending some Saturdays up at his office playing with the photocopier and taking tours of the data center at Martin-Decker. Everybody knew The Admiral and seemed to like him, so that was always sort of fun.

He was both our Indian Guides "Chief" and a "Den Mother" for our Cub Scout Troop that year when Karebear was sick of gluing popsicle sticks together and handing out badges. We attended camps together with lame names like "Dad and Lad", but we had fun trying to fish, hiking about in the woods, and the cruel, cruel joke of sending myself and the other scouts on a snipe hunt. I was 17 before I realized there was no such thing as a snipe.

Wisely, The Admiral put a healthy fear of guns into Jason and I by taking us out with a .22 rifle and letting us shoot at a cliffside, only to hear the bullets ricocheting all around us. I've never been interested in handling a gun since.

We weren't nearly close to injured enough, so the Steans Men took up scuba diving and that made for some grand vacations. And nobody (I tell you, NOBODY) looks better in a wet suit than yours truly.

Later, the Admiral would teach me to drive in our neighborhood, constantly referring to other drivers as if they were enemy planes. I'm not sure what exciting WWII picture he had running in his head, but I was always shocked that he never asked me to wear a little leather flight-cap and goggles when we got in the car. To this day I wonder what The Admiral is seeing and hearing when the rest of us are just sitting in traffic.

We all moved to Houston (well, not Jason) in 1990ish. I mostly remember The Admiral pointing out that the garage needed a storage space, then pointing to some sheetwood, a power saw and a ladder and telling me not to cut anything off we couldn't reattach. Again, I was forced to mow the lawn. This time Jason was not there to edge and trim.

The Admiral was originally dubbed "The Captain" at some point around 1992. Why this occured has been lost to time. But I think it came after a lot of trial and error, including the names: Pops, Pumpkinhead (I have no idea where that came from either), Old Man and a host of others. Somehow, "The Captain" stuck.

At this point I recall The Admiral was around a lot, still reading the paper, obsessed with CNN during the first Gulf War, and always lending a hand during my goofy high school thespian days. And, honestly, I can't tell you what a relief it was when he completely didn't care that I quit the basketball team.

Luckily, the Admiral and KareBear's hard work and insistence that I do my homework paid off, and they footed the bill for college. Mostly. I mean, eating was out for whole days at a time when I moved out of the dorm, but you'd be surprised how long you can stretch a bag of beef jerky. I felt like a pirate on the high seas. But, like a pirate, I worried about scurvy.

Upon Graduation and after having had stretched his dollars as far as they would go, The Captain was promoted to "The Admiral", as leader of our fleet.

SInce that time The Admiral has been both a VP of finance for a really big company that makes valves (it's true!), as well as continuing to lead our tiny fleet.

Well done Admiral. Today, I hoist a flag in your honor.

At the risk of being a complete sissy: I am your son, and I love you.

Now go out and there and tie one on for the team.

Idle Speculation

I am not a detective. I don't have any clues other than what's on CNN. But does the whole thing with this Karr guy getting picked up in Thailand for the death of JonBenet Ramsey not just feel... off?

Like most folks, back in 1996 I assumed that JonBenet's death had been at the hands of a family member. A few years ago I was watching a news magazine program or true-crime show (thought I think it was Dateline or 48 Hours) and they brought on a retired federal agent who had gone into business as a consultant and had eventually been hired by the Ramseys. Since watching that guy, who always seemed a lot more credible than the Sherriff's Dept. of Boulder, CO, I've more or less believed that the Ramseys didn't committ any crime. Or else they went way out of their way to leave evidence pointing to someone else and the Boulder cops didn't pick up on it.

Anyhoo, I'm willing to put money down that this Karr guy may have committed many crimes in his life, but that he was not in Colorado on the night of JonBenet Ramsey's death. That said, it would be nice to see the actual perpetrator brought to trial.


COMICS

Well, Leaguers, you've probably noticed a sad lack of reviews around here, but you guys also haven't really been clamoring to find out what's going on with the All New Atom or anything, so until I'm in a state of mind to jump into reviews, etc... once more, you will have to go without.

If I had to make some suggestions:

The new Checkmate series by Greg Rucka is written so well it makes my head hurt. It's rife with the frustating political tango/ espionage sort of stories that makes you want to pull your hair out, but you suspect is a lot closer to how the real world works than you want to spend the energy thinking about. Well characterized, mature stories, nice art and, hey... it's got Mr. Terrific! The League loves Mr. Terrific.

All-Star Superman continues to be very good. I'm eagerly anticipating issue #5.

The first issues of the post OYL core Batman titles are uniformly good. The new editorial team has already pulled Batman out of the endless cycle of being a jerk to everyone around him.


You Say Goodbye, I Say Wha-?

So, I was supposed to end my job on August 25th, but I pushed the date back to September 8th. My co-workers had already planned a goodbye party for me, so on Wednesday I had a pretty elaborate good-bye party.

We had a nice ice cream cake and apparently everyone was given a dollar limit and told to go buy me a Superman themed gift. So, consequently I am now the proud owner of the Superman Returns Heat Vision Scope, a Superman basketball and severla other Super items. Plus a red towel with a super-logo taped to the back. I tacked that to the wall, cape style. It looks sharp.

As I'm not gone yet, it was a bit like attending your own funeral. At UT I went to the party, said my good-bye's, went back to my office, checked my e-mail and left. Here I have to start a new semester and continue through what is our busiest time of the year for the next few weeks.

Anyhow, it's nice to know the people you work with can at least fake liking you. I was both genuinely surprised and moved. I sort of expected a happy hour and that would be that.

What Up With The League?

DC Direct... it is as if you can read my mind (such as it is).

Can a Helen Slater Supergirl statue be far behind? Well, probably, yes. But I'm betting 2008 gets us a Christopher Reeve Superman.

Whoo-Hoo! Wonder Woman. My first and oldest crush.


Today has been sort of crazy. Again. We agreed to an offer on our house. So... now we have to have the house inspected, have something called an LSR approved, and then wait for some interminable amount of time for full loan approval for Ryan of Earth-3.

We've got a few days before we can move from "active-with contingency" to "pending". The whole pending thing is key, because it means that realtors are far, far less likely to keep showing League HQ to the public. Which means we can live in our house again and breathe.

But it also means we can start thinking about a house in Austin. Hopefully the future League HQ we'd picked out will still be available. Otherwise, we gotta head back to town and start looking again. Bleh.

Honestly, I totally DO NOT understand the house buying/ selling thing. You can't buy a different house until you sell your own house. So, what I don't get is that, if all goes well, we're supposed to close on the 15th. Which means that, in theory Ryan of Earth-3 could move in his stuff that day. Which means we have to move our stuff out by the 14th. BUT, because it takes about the same amount of time to run the process for us on our end, we would probably close after the 15th.

My point is, for all the houses that are bought and sold in the US, I've as of yet heard a satisfactory explanation for how people usually get their stuff from one place to another, and where the hell their stuff is inbetween houses. If we're out on the 14th, doesn't it stand to reason we should already have a place for it to be on the 14th?

Of course we keep hearing stories of gloom and doom about how someone's loan can fall through at the 11th hour and we'd be stuck with a house we now can't afford because we have two mortgage payments, plus we're stuck with having to put the house on the market again.

It seems like there's got to be a smarter way to do this, but nobody seems to know what it might be.

All very confusing.

Comic Dorkout

Is it just me, or did Civil War: Frontline #5 dip into DC territory?

Essentially setting up The Negative Zone as Marvel's answer to The Phantom Zone, complete with a Kingdom Come-style Gulag.

However, this is Marvel U which is usually set up to not have quite the crazy technology or have characters popping around between dimensions at will. I get the whole Gitmo thing, but this series is turning into a well plotted and scripted, yet somehow ham-handed, allegory. Okay.

So... Just who the heck built that Negative Zone prison thingy? Normally I don't dwell on these sorts of tidbits, but I was just having a hard time buying government contractors hanging out in the Negative Zone for the year or so it would take to build a facility of the scope that they're suggesting. Which also suggests a massive government payout to build the thing, not to mention the fact that we're only a few months into Civil War, which may mean the facility has been there for quite some time.

In the DCU you can build a massive underground evil-shrine/ terrorist complex under a major metropolitan area and nobody will notice. Marvel's never really been into anything that wacky.When a transdimensional fortress appears in the DCU, there's usually some sorry explanation like "We contacted Orion and Big Barda and they brought us New Genesis technology, which we used to construct the facility in a few weeks". You just sort of learn after a while of reading DC books that this sort of stuff just sort of occurs.

So, no wonder Annihilus is so irritable these days over in Annihilation. He's got all these humans in his front yard, tearing the place up. It would make me want to destroy the universe, too.

And uhmmm...


(located by Superman Homepage)

1) For Jim...

Who is making the great escape.





2) Sometimes even The League doesn't know what to make of some Superman fandom.

I can't believe it's butter.


3) I don't think we're going to jinx it, so I'm going to go ahead and share this:

Some dude named Ryan has made us an offer on the house.

Apparently he's a big comic geek.

I don't even know what to make of that.

I hope he enjoys our Spider-Man wallpaper border. And getting my junk mail.


4) This means we can probably move forward with thinking about departing for Austin.

5) I have a vision of Jason sitting on my front porch with his guitar, pickin'n'grinnin.

6) I'm pretty busy. Tonight has been sort of odd and crazy.

7) Flavor of Love Season 2 is somehow even more disturbing than Season 1. I can't look away.

8) I have no way to document or prove it, but I was flipping channels this evening and went past an infomercial where they had printed across the bottom of the screen that a woman had achieved "FINANACIAL SUCCESS".

sound it out, kids... sound it out...

Arden Update



Arden continues to rock out...

This photo reminds me of a fine tune by the Presidents of the United States of America.

Poke & Destroy

Girls, girls, girls, girls are so polite
They don't crush everything that they see
You can take 'em to a funky funky forest with big glass spiderwebs
Hangin' from the ceilin'
They wouldn't feel the uncontrollable urge
To tip and push and kick and rip and tear and smash and squish and...

Poke and destroy
Poke and destroy
Poke and destroy
I'm a boy, I wanna poke and destroy!
Poke and destroy
Poke and destroy
Poke and destroy
I'm a boy, I wanna poke and destroy!

([Spoken:] "Poke and Destroy")

I want to poke!

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

(and destroy!)

Boys, boys, boys, boys are set to kill
They wanna crush everything that they see
You could take 'em to a creepy museum with dinosaur bones
Hangin' from the ceilin'
They'd feel the uncontrollable urge
To tip and push and kick and rip and tear and smash and squish and'

Poke and destroy!
Poke and destroy!
Poke and destroy!
I'm a boy, I wanna poke and destroy!
Poke and destroy!
Poke and destroy!
Poke and destroy!
I'm a boy, I wanna poke and destroy!

(poke, poke, poke, poke, poke, poke, poke, poke, poke, poke, poke and destroy!)
I want to poke!

(kick it down, rip it down, burn it down and kick it! Yeah!)
And destroy

(and we'll do it 500 more times!)

Ahhhh...Ahhhh...Ahhhh...Ahhhh!

Out in the wild with a girl I know
She see a little thing in the sand
She pretend to leave it alone, leave the creature in it's home
But I don't understand

If I find a delicate thing
I wonder how it would look split at the seams
Girls talk, say "it's beautiful"
I gotta poke it to know it, I gotta LIGHT IT ON FIRE AND...

Poke and destroy!
Poke and destroy!
Poke and destroy!
I'm a boy, I wanna poke and destroy!
Poke and destroy!
Poke and destroy!
Poke and destroy!
I'm a boy, I wanna poke and destroy!
Poke and destroy! (and destroy)
Poke and destroy! (and destroy)
Poke and destroy! (and destroy)
Poke and destroy! (and destroy)
Poke and destroy! (and destroy)
Poke and destroy! (and destroy)
Poke and destroy! (and destroy)
I'm a boy, I wanna poke and destroeeeee...ahhh...(cough cough)...ahem!