A Holiday Apology...

I have to apologize to Loyal Leaguers everywhere. Despite many creative and entertaining entries, The League was unable to get it's act together and get a nice photo for the Holidays.

A few things conspired against me:

1) A lack of time.
2) A lack of a photographer in order to get both Jamie and myself into the photo.
3) The amazing array of props, locations, etc... that Leaguers suggested. I am not certain what makes people think I can just get a police officer or patrol car at any moment, but, despite my wishes to the contrary, I cannot merely summon the police without someone from league HQ ending up in the pokey.

Anyhow, I have failed you. I feel pretty bad about that. But not too bad. And I also wish to point out that I think Jamie was relieved she would not need to get into costume for any photos.

But I still wish each and every one of you a very Merry Christmas, a Positive Post-Hannukah, a Krazy Kwanzaa, or whatever.

We're winging eastward toward Lawton, OK in fairly short order, so The League is going on hiatus until the end of the month. Not that I think you'll take time out during Christmas to check in, but... you know... thought I'd let you know you're not going to miss anything.

So until I post again... Travel safely, eat well, enjoy the family and friends around you, and try to take a moment to remember what it's all about.

My Christmas Wish is the same this year as it has been every year. I wish that next year is better than this year, and that health and happiness prevail.

Merry Christmas, Leaguers. And thanks for hanging around! Jamie and I wish you the best!



Peace on Earth, and goodwill to all from The League of Melbotis.

The trailer is now up for Frank Miller's Sin City.

Wow.

THE CHRISTMASSY TALE OF SANTOR
as told to The League


You may know the tale of Santa Claus (aka Saint Nick, St. Nicholas, The Jolly Old Elf, Kris Kringle, Creepy Guy at Mall). But do you know the tale of Santor? And how he came to be? Do you know it at all... ?

'Twas long, long ago, on a day not too much different from today (imagine if you can), in a place not so very different from the very one you're in, that the tale of Santor began.

He was a kindly person, a merry person, the kind of fellow who would spread joy and cheer... not just on Christmas Day, but all throughout the year.

So Merry was our fellow, that folks called him "The Christmas Elf."
He so liked the name, and he adopted it himself.

Now this Christmas Elf, it can be said he lived alone
In a two bedroom condo with a facade of faux stone.
Though alone he would sit as Christmas rolled around,
he'd cross his fingers, for an invitation to Christmas dinner might yet be found.

But despite the Elf's boyish charm, the bells upon his toes, and the sweaters of green and red,
Each Christmas Eve he would find himself alone, and wishing he were dead.

And then one year as Christmas came rolling 'round once more,
the Christmas Elf's coworkers knew not what was in store.

"'Tis Christmas," cried the Elf, "And each year I make the season merry for you folks.
I light up my cube, sing you all carols, and make egg nog with no yolks."

"I dress up in the right colors, I made my Windstar into a sleigh.
I make cookies with Splenda, and give a few dollars to The United Way."

"I've never asked for anything, despite the personalized cards and the presents I sent.
Even for Ol' Johnny in receiving, who tells me to 'get bent.'"

"You each know my folks won't talk to me, and I've got not a friend in this bunch.
But this year for Christmas, can I please come to dinner? Or to breakfast or to lunch?"

"I don't take up much space, I eat light, and I'll pack my own food.
I'll clean up the dishes. I'll take out the trash and I just won't be rude."

His officemates stared and then turned their eyes in deep thought.
Their sympathy was clear, and he knew he'd done as he 'ought.

They looked to him together. With the invitation coming, he now felt quite dizzy.
"Christmas Elf, Ol' Chum" they said. "It's not that we don't what you there. It's simply, we're too busy."

So The Elf slunk home, just the thought of Christmas made him dejected and forlorn.
Nothing could console him, not even his mountainous stack of Christmas-themed porn.

And the doorbell rang, it rang out quite clear. He rushed to the door to see who it could be.
'Twas the mailman, with a box! "Is it," said the elf, unbelieving, "is it a present for me?"

The mailman handed over the package, his eyes tired and weary.
"Sign here," said the Mailman. But he was not at all cheery.

The return address was from the office. Reconciliation for leaving him in the cold!
No matter the trifle, he said aloud to himself, I'll treat this as gold!

As he opened the package, and finding bright paper beneath, he felt rejuvenated, his spirits were lifted!
But then, below, he saw it was the coffee package he'd sent them all last year which the sender had merely re-gifted.

"Screw it!" cried the Elf! "I foresake this day! I try and try, and they don't care!
I think I know what I'll do! I'll be their Christmas nightmare!"

"Each year with each gift, I'll keep it around!
Shrink wrap unbroken and bindings still bound!"

"I'll send the gift to someone else or resend to the sender!
Be it summer sausage, a playstation, a stapler or blender!"

"I'll be their St. Nick, and their annoying gift granter!
But I shall not be Santa! I shall become Santor!"

And they found his condo empty, the coffee package spilled to the floor.
The tree was tipped over, and the lights blinked no more.

And when the cops looked around (for the elf had disappeared)
they saw in red and green a message was smeared:

"Merry Christmas, you bastards! Hope you like re-gifted junk!
I'm your new gift giver, free of this Holiday Bunk!"

"I've had it with you people, and that's not just the booze speaking!
I've devised a plan to give Christmas a tweaking!"

"So on Christmas morning, when you're seeking presents under the tree,
you may get something oddly familiar or pre-opened, and you'll know it's from me!"

"Instead of new gifts, expect junk someone doesn't want any more!
Know that your gift came from Good Ol' Santor!"

And so it befalls us each time and each year
that we find a present we might think is queer.

It might be last year's coasters, or that beer drinking cap.
But be rest assured it's someone's old crap.

So look for the regifted, or the present which bores,
and know that it was sent from your good friend Santor.


SANTOR

Mrs. League here. The League is in the process of moving offices today, sans internet access, so that's why he's been quiet.

We had a good weekend. We had previously decided to do League HQ Christmas on Saturday, but Friday night as we sat by the Supertree the League saw me eyeing my present. Keep in mind, Leaguers, that Christmases past have seen the League snooping for his treasures and begging to open them ahead of time. This year the tables were turned. I knew what was waiting for me underneath the Spidey wrapping paper and was antsy with delight while the League was cool as a cucumber.

League: "You can open it"
M.League: "No - we said we were waiting until Saturday"
League: "You can ...(Spidey already being ripped apart)...open it..."

I got me a little blue iPod Mini, folks. I love it so. Brought it to work with me today even though I'm only up to the 'J's in copying my CDs over. I'm fear I'm going to be mighty sick of Blur in another week or so.

I got the League Star Wars Electronic Battleship as kind of an interim gift. His real present won't be here until January. Anyway, he seems to like it and it's fun to play, although I kind of miss getting to make the direct hit noises myself.

Saturday after making waffles and playing with our toys some more, 3/4 of the League (Jeff the Cat remained home on guard duty) headed outside for a wintery stroll (70 degrees with sunshine). For a change of scenery we took off towards the new subdivision to the east. We saw three different pools under construction - not fair! Our subdivision doesn't even have a name. Anyway, we soon found ourselves coming up to the fence of our nemesis the dairy farm. Because it was prior to feeding time, the cows had no ammo and it was safe to approach. And because it was prior to feeding time, we were greeted at the fence by close to 100 cows.

Melbotis the Brave bristled up a bit, but since the cows did not appear as threatening as small children he quickly calmed down. I wanted to pet them, but feared the wrath of Farmer Ted should he catch me touching Bessie. They were so cute. Almost enough to make me want to give up beef. Eh, who am I kidding? I love me a good steak.

Went to see Ocean's Twelve. Eh. It was okay and we laughed a bit, but I still liked the first one better. Julia Roberts is looking weird these days. Also had our annual holiday viewing of It's a Wonderful Life. "Merry Christmas movie house!"

Getting ready for our Christmas pilgrimage to Lawton, Oklahoma on Wednesday. It'll be a miracle if we actually make it on time. I don't trust American Airlines (more specifically puddle jumper American Eagle which will shuttle us into the Sooner State from Dallas). American 'Beagle' has bumped us from our flight a number of times and I'm starting to feel like Charlie Brown kicking the football, but they're the only carrier that flies into Lawton. Wish us luck.

Mrs. League here.

What I want for my birthday.

It's a Christmas/ Superman-related miracle!

In twenty years of comic fandom, I have never written in to a comic publisher before. But just this last week I sat down and wrote to DC Comics. Why?

Action Comics, DC's oldest comic still in print, and the home of Superman, was being written by Chuck Austen. Austen had written a semi-successful miniseries with Metropolis as a background last year, but it hadn't been my favorite series. I loved the art, but, truthfully, the story was meandering and unstructured.

When the Superman comics relaunched several months ago, Chuck Austen was given Action Comics. I knew from internet trolls complaining about Austen's run on X-Men that he could be a controversial figure, but I wasn't really clear on WHY so many readers didn't like his work.

As Austen's run on Action neared, interviews with the writer showed up online and Austen publicly stated that he didn't think Superman was interesting. Nor did he feel overly excited to be writing the comic. He found Lois Lane boring, and thought Superman should be more "proactive" or something along those lines.

When the comics started showing up, they were the action packed comics Austen ahd promised, but no single issue contained the hint of a coherent story. Ivan Reis had taken over art chores, and the guy does incredible work. But Austen seemed to be flailing through a backlog of Superman villains and supporting characters. Plotlines were being introduced and never carried out, villains appeared but failed to ever reappear in order to complete a storyline.

Further, Superman just didn't act like Superman. Some folks say he was acting more as if Austen were writing Spider-Man, but I didn't see it. I felt Austen was trying to interject humor into the Superman comics and simply wasn't very good at writing comics that way. Also, Superman would loudly declare superlatives such as "I am the best!" Uh-huh.

The whole thing had simply an awful sense of mismanagement about it, and Suprman fans were staying away in droves.

At any rate, yesterday DC Comics announced Austen is now off of Action Comics. The comic, which has been published since 1938, should be treated as a flagship comic, drawing the industry's best and brightest. And I think DC went into their agreement with Austen believing he would deliver a comic he proved himself incapable of producing.

The odd part of the entire deal is this: the new writer on the comic is JD Finn. Nobody has ever heard of JD Finn before. Nobody. It is assumed JD Finn is a pen name of some sort for an established writer as new writers usually aren't handed the reigns on a franchise book like Action Comics. I'm looking forward to seeing what the true story is and how "JD Finn" ties up Austen's confusing and ill-devies plot threads.

You read up on the Austen leaving Action Comics here.

Meanwhile, I totally encourage readers to pick up "Adventures of Superman" by Greg Rucka and Matthew Clark. Also, Azzarello and Lee's "Superman" is still holding my itnerest.

Oh, ANd David Goyer is making a move to take The Flash to the big screen.

Looks like the League may be forced to do a little spin control.

Last week, the venerable Steven G. Harms asked The League to respond to his posting about factors which can make a relationship work (or, I guess, conversely, not work).

You can read Steven's post here.

And I responded to Steven via electronic mail. Steven responded to my response here.

I have given Steven permission to post my full response on his site as this whole thing began over there.

I think of these sorts of life-altering deals like long term relationships and having kids to be a bit like traveling. We all have an idea of what New York City is like in our heads just from watching TV, but the second we step off the plane, we have to readjust our notions and come away with a different idea of what the city is all about. To extend the metaphor, people who live and work in New York are going to have yet another idea of what the city is all about and how it works. They aren't going to be using tourist maps to get around, and they aren't going to be bothering with the tour of the Statue of Liberty.

To further extend the metaphor, when you do go home, nobody wants to see photos from your vacation and/ or life in New York. Nobody wants to see 4x6 pictures of you standing in front of a hotdog cart while you explain how you order a hotdog in Manhattan. It's boring. And you always come off as an ass when you're trying to explain to your pals "how things work in the big city". It's unavoidable and, ultimately, you come off as a condescending jerk just for trying to explain how to buy subway tokens.

I think Jamie and I are sort of in-betweeners. We live in a sort of metaphorical Connecticut, or possibly Philadelphia. We're married, have been together for a pretty darn long while given our age, and have no kids. We're heading into the territory where people are having kids and telling us "there's nothing like it!" I'm taking them at their word for it, and occasionally playing with the little souvenir, but I have no idea what a 4:00am feeding is like, or the joys of labor, or worrying about lying kids on their stomach instead of their back. That's a whole new New York City I'm just not ready to even tourist through.