The Name Escapes Me

Forwarding Address

2010-03-09T18:03:00.002-06:00

Call it the restlessness bred by computerized communication, but here's where you can find more stuff along the lines of TNoTBEM.

and far between.

Old Man Sounds

2009-07-20T19:20:00.004-05:00

Just found myself using the phrase "sheesh o'meesh". I'm pretty sure that's not actually a phrase, but it sounds like something you'd hear in a 'talkie' or perhaps a Bob Newhart comedy special (which are awesome if you check your irony at the door, by the way). I'm gonna go with it.

Pictured: Cary Grant in 'Arsenic And Old Lace'. Not exactly a talkie in the 'first movies with sound' sense, but I like Cary Grant, and he might've been persuaded back then to utter "Sheesh o'meesh!" if the script called for it.

Sheesh o'meesh!

Today I Wish I Was 46

2009-07-20T18:30:00.003-05:00

Forty years ago, Apollo 11 landed on the surface of the moon. That would have been amazing to see firsthand. Here's a story about it.

I Don't Know If I Can Explain How Happy This Makes Me Without Blubbering, So Just Look At The Image

2009-07-18T23:41:00.002-05:00

If We Can Dream It, We Can Do It

2009-07-17T17:29:00.004-05:00

Stay with me here. It's a bidet for babies. I call it a Bidet-by (biday-bee).*

Sure, right now it's in the planning stages, and since I don't have the start-up capital it's just a squirt gun filled with warm, soapy water, but think of it! The baby gets clean, and your chance for fecal contact is minimized!*2

What we do is, build a small walk-in shower-type dealie, put a slot at toddler eye level for the display of the kids' favorite toy, run a hose at medium pressure in through the floor of the device, and put foaming soap dispensers that shoot jets of cleaner at butt level.

Let me know, 'cause I've got investors who could be interested in this if I tell them about it if they return my calls.

* I understand that the spelling makes it seem like "Bidet By", but this is a whole different thing. I admit in retrospect that surprise ass washings might not be everyone's thing. The court has spoken, and I am listening. Strictly voluntary this time.........for the parents, at least.

*2 Of things that we all would like to minimize, fecal contact is pretty high up there. Am I right? On my list of things I'd rather not do, 'touch poop' is somewhere between 'run unnecessarily' and 'step on a cheese grater while running unnecessarily'. Probably closer to the latter than the former.

I/You Are Invited

2009-07-16T18:36:00.006-05:00

So, two things.

One: I've got this stupid Black Eyed Peas "Boom Boom Pow" song stuck in my head.*

Two: Today has been a day of invitations. I was invited to head on over to a three day training session and then a job making more money per hour than I've ever made in my life (by 25%). It's no glamour position, but aside from superhero, what is? *2

Two-A: I've been invited to a music rock guitar funtime concert show featuring the new iteration of Alice In Chains. Now, I haven't heard the new singer, or any of their new material, but at one time I loved that band. I'll be keeping my fingers crossed that they do Layne Staley justice.*3

In honor of my day of invitations, here's a song about invitations. Note that my daughter went batshit crazy at 2 minutes, 35 seconds.

* If I got it in your head by mentioning it, I'm not sorry. Why should I suffer alone?

*2 How come I wasn't created by Dan Jurgens? Why couldn't I get a job as a night watchman in a space museum filled with the gadgets of heroes from the distant past? Damn you, Booster Gold, you've got all the luck.

*3 Here's a bonus song! Gotta get that Black Eyed Peas song out somehow, right? Teenage me identified more with Layne Staley (minus the eventually fatal drug habit) than any of the other grunge-era exemplars.

Three Days In A Row Means This One Isn't Interesting

2009-07-15T13:17:00.002-05:00

So, in an effort to continue the streak of daily posting here, I'll tell you what I did today.

Got up early and went to a job interview.

Aced the first part, tanked the second part to almost failing, came back strong on the third part, and split the difference in the 'tell me about a time when this happened, what did you do, and what was the result' section.

I should know tomorrow or the following day what will become of my aspirations.

Stay tuned, loyal readers!

Talkin' 'Bout The Good Ol' Days - M.U.S.C.L.E.

2009-07-13T23:17:00.007-05:00

I've been getting these tiny figures for Neil lately called Gormiti. They're from Belgium or Zaire, or some other place. Of course, I get them because Neil likes them; my feelings have no place in the matter.*

But they'd set me half-remembering toys from when I was a kid. Being old, I couldn't quite get a handle on them. Google to the rescue! Millions of Unusual Small Creatures Lurking Everywhere. They were tiny and pink and seemed at the time to be wrestlers. Intergalactic alien, robot, superhero wrestlers.*2

Of course, nowadays, tiny figures have the luxury of being painted and existing to battle over the fate of Gorm. Gormiti belong to one of six tribes, each nature-themed.*3 There's epic destiny and ecological concern for today's five year old. Me, I just wanted to make weird guys beat each other up to prove their worth.*4 Take young me to the corner store, steer me past the Pocket Rockers*5 and over to the M.U.S.C.L.E. guys, buy me a Snickers bar I could stick in the freezer and throw in a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle comic book and I'm good.

With the recent resurgence of all things Eighties, from He-Man to The Smurfs, it's just a matter of time before M.U.S.C.L.E. returns. Maybe this time around they'll make the figures action-ready and forgo the 'hands on hips' pose of power that didn't allow for making the figure punch.*6

This has been "Talkin' 'Bout The Good Ol' Days", the preeminent thrice-apostrophized blog series on the interweb.

* That's the official line, but I'm enough of a geek that I look forward to new ones at least as much as he does.

*2 I don't know what 'Lurking' had to do with wrestling, but then again, there weren't 'Millions' of them either. Hundreds, maybe, but that would have made for an awkward acronym. H.U.S.C.L.E. connotes a different type of wrestling entirely.

*3 Yes, sectarian violence is everywhere. Even in Gorm. Give me the good old days when it was "G.I. Joe against Cobra, the enemy, fighting to save the day". You knew where you stood. You were "fighting for freedom over land and air". Never mind securing the oceans. The Joe team had Shipwreck, but he obviously wasn't a competent sailor. The first clue is that he was saddled with a codename denoting naval failure.

*4 I was a tiny roman emperor, but nobody won their freedom.

*5 I remember that the commercials for Pocket Rockers used CCR's "Down On The Corner", excising any reference to Willy and the Poorboys. Tragic in retrospect, but I was untroubled at the time, having no concept of John Fogerty's copyright battles with his record label. Now I know better and kind of hate Fisher Price a bit for forever linking the jingle with the song in my mind.

*6 Headbutts are a nice change of pace, but everybody knows that haymakers win intergalactic wrestling bouts.

Birthday and Daily Attempt

2009-07-13T19:42:00.016-05:00

Two and a half months, you say? Bullshit. That can't be right. Anyway, here's some pictures of my babies and some cake. So begins the "Justin tries to update every day and probably stops after two consecutive days" TNOTBEM extravaganza*.

The badass sandcastle cake was baked by the lady of the house, but the pestle-ing of the graham crackers into a facsimile of sand par excellence was all me.

As my daughter Niamh turned a year old, I finally decided to help her with something. Prior to this, I had a strict hands-off policy in place. You'll notice that my "future glasses"*2 are hiding the shame in my eyes.

Niamh is about to go all 'Sean Penn'*3. Guess who's playing the part of the papparazzo?

Here's Neil. We go way back. Must be five years if it's a day...

Oh God, I'm so old.

Once I was a man (arguably). Now I am hammock.

* It's not going to be exciting, people. But then again, it hasn't been an exciting two and a half month silence, either.

*2 My future glasses are proof that not all drunken drug store purchases need be cause for regret. And they're red. Haven't worn red since the "Converse Debacle of 1996".

*3 No, she's not about to argue passionately for human rights. The other Sean Penn thing. With the punching and the yelling of obscenities. Tiny fists and "big girl" words are an adorably effective way to get knocked unconscious.

Why You Should Read Rival Angels

2009-04-25T22:27:00.007-05:00

Shameless self-promotion time, loyal reader*. Monday morning on the Rival Angels web comic site, a little baby of mine will egg tooth the hell out of it's enclosure and breathe free among the internets for the first time.

What's Rival Angels? It's the web's number one wrestling comic. Created, written and drawn by my fellow Workshed Studio keyboard monkey, Alan Evans. I've helped out with storyboarding, editing, and some dialogue in the past (and will in the future), but this time the content is all-original, all-Justin. I promise, I will not let the awesome falter.

For those who follow Rival Angels, the long-awaited origin of Sun "Li'l Dragon" Wong will finally be told. For those who don't follow Rival Angels, give it a look anyway. What's the worst that could happen?

A postulation in steps:

1) You read Rival Angels at work.

2) Your boss finds you reading it.*2

3) He/she flips his/her lid and starts screaming "Porn Violation!"

4) You hurriedly try to explain that women wrestling doesn't always mean porn and lurch up from your desk only to knock over your coffee, scalding both of your groins in a feat of physic improbability.*3

5) While nursing your damp, toasted parts you are spied by a coworker who has long suspected panky of the hanky type between you and aforementioned boss and now has the proof, what with all the screaming and genital rubbing.

6) Your boss panics and wraps his/her lanyard around the throat of the ill-informed office gossip, ending their ill-informed life both easily and tragicomically.

7) You and your boss are now both on the hook for at least manslaughter.*4

8) While disposing of your 'prison ticket', you have ample time between grunts and daydreams of the Weekend At Bernie's variety to explain to your boss just what Rival Angels is all about.*5

9) Your boss is intrigued and reads Sun Wong's origin for him/herself.

10) A brief conversation ensues in which you tell your boss how to subscribe to the Rival Angels web comic.

11) A longer conversation ensues in which you explain to your boss just how to set up a Google or Yahoo homepage in order to receive no fewer than thrice-weekly updates from Rival Angels.com via a blog aggregator.

12) Days pass, then weeks; you both realize that the office is a better place for the loss of that silly gossip your boss strangled.*6

13) Still enjoying Rival Angels, you come to form a close bond with your co-conspirator. You've gained a friend.

14) Years later, a man comes to you demanding hush money. He threatens to expose your murderous ways. Your boss rightfully lets you deal with it. After all, he/she has already killed someone for your benefit.

15) Upon delivery of the hush money, you take some initiative for once and follow him back to his den of thievery and find a flourishing white slavery operation.

16) Remembering some of the awesome wrestling maneuvers from Rival Angels, you clean house, setting free the grateful slaves and feeling real good about yourself in the bargain.

17) The police refuse to listen to the blackmailer; because really, who's going to take the word of a blackmailing white slaver as gospel?

18) In fact, the gossip who your boss 'instantaneously laid off' was wrapped up in the white slavery operation too.*7

19) You write me an email outlining the events of your life since reading Rival Angels and I fictionalize them in a blog post to solicit others to read Rival Angels.

20) Some other person begins back at step 1.*8

If that's the worst that happens as a result of reading Rival Angels (particularly starting Monday, April 27th), you've got no reason not to.

* Shame filled self-promotion is just too hard to fake.

*2 Say it with me; "Alt-T to switch between tabs".

*3 Why were your groins so close?

*4 Manslaughter could be parsed to read "man's laughter", but there's nothing funny about the word without that apostrophe and that space. English, huh?

*5 Rookie wrestlers living together; laughing, loving, learning, piledriving.

*6 The replacement is nowhere near as gossipy, buys you a drink occasionally, and does not smell of citronella. Maybe they're hot, but let's not get greedy.

*7 That was fortunate.

*8 Spoooooky.

Callisto - Torsten Krol

2009-03-09T08:02:00.005-05:00

If Torsten Krol's debut novel went no further than the setup, a floundering young high school dropout getting in over his head in the go-nowhere titular town, it would be a great read. Krol has a fantastic gift for fleshed-out character creation and a command of quirk to rival that found in the best movies of the Coen brothers. However, like the Coens, Krol's story wades into the shallow end of strange and then something takes hold of its feet and drags it down into epic depths of weird and wonderful.

Odell Deefus is a loser by most objective standards. He's a drifter with no prospects who hits upon the terrible idea of joining the U.S. Army circa 2007 to fight "the mad dog Islamites" and gain recognition as a person who matters. His plan takes him in the direction of an Army recruitment center in Callisto, Kansas. Deefus's car, however, falls short of the goal by dying at a farm on the outskirts of town. You could call it fate, but only if you believe in a terrible God who enjoys laughing at the tribulations of the less fortunate.

This unscheduled detour assures that all of his plans, ill-thought as they were, have now gone off the rails, depositing Odell in a perfect storm of cross purposes and competing agendas. How does one man escape the entaglements of murder, lawn mowing, drug dealing, terrorism, local news, televangelism, small-town grudges, national politics and military "justice" armed only with a love of rum and Condoleeza Rice? Can not quite sharp enough instincts and a cracked spine copy of The Yearling guide Odell out of the troubles he's both fallen into and created for himself?

Callisto is a book equal parts George Singleton and George Saunders; exploring small town eccentricity and nation-sized paranoia; both a story of personal inventory and a chronicle of national dread. Far from another safe, 'there he goes again', funny, sad sack story, it's also a hilariously brutal indictment of a society too ready for story and not able to question what they're given. Odell Deefus is the post-9/11 Middle American Everyman, not stupid but unthinking; affable but less wise than the times demand. His journey may be highly improbable, but his part in the story rings true, God help us.

Captain Freedom - G. Xavier Robillard

2009-02-10T07:38:00.007-06:00

You've got super strength, superhuman reflexes, blistering flight, weather forecasting ability par excellence and a devastating eye towards fashion. You are globally known and celebrated, have a smoking-hot villainess girlfriend and have a secret headquarters requiring Segway use to traverse comfortably. Never mind that you can't connect meaningfully with an archenemy or kick this pesky cocaine habit; you're still on top.

Until you're not.

You've hit the bottom of the barrel, picked up the barrel, and chucked it into the engine of your corporate jet. It's tailspin time, and not even your talk radio-powered sidekick can help you now. What's a super powered narcissist to do? How can you see your name in lights again? Where's the exit to easy street?

Captain Freedom, he of the repressed childhood and urge for a good Q rating, begins this first-time novel from G. Xavier Robillard at a crossroads. What better way to find where you're going than by examining where you've been? In this clever satire, our (quasi-)hero is heavily invested in a life coach's instruction to explore his origin story. We're brought along on the ride through spot-on characterizations of callous celebrity mentality and image-conscious heroics to quest for the acclaim that's eluded the Captain.

For fans who can appreciate the absurdity of superhero comics and the dangers of living a life unexamined, Captain Freedom is a worthy addition to the growing canon of meta-comic novels. With a background in writing for McSweeney's and Comedy Central, Robillard comes well-equiped to dish out the snark, sarcasm and ridiculousness that his protagonist traffics in to great effect. While exploring the behind-the-scenes of superheroics isn't a new concept, Robillard's marriage of that start point and the behemoth industry of celebrity is a fresh twist of the knife that rewards us all for the inanity we've unwittingly absorbed through cultural osmosis.

Captain Freedom is a hilarious critique of what our heroes are, what they need to be, and what they are driven to do to stay on top. Remember; it's not how many people you saved from the volcano, it's how long you can wait until the news crews get there before going into action.

Shrugality

2009-01-30T11:48:00.004-06:00

When listening to rap music (as I have been wont* to do as of late), you've got to come ready to hear boasts and brags about all manner of things. Clothes, jewelry, cars, jail time, body counts, bedroom conquests, mad skills that are capable of paying bills, etc. Sometimes this is good:

"Yo, I speak at schools a lot cause they say I'm intelligent
No, it's cause I'm dope, if I was wack I'd be irrelevant"*2

Sometimes it's good and terrible:

"Don't try to treat me like I ain't famous
My apologies, are you into astrology
Cause um, I'm tryin' to make it to Uranus"*3

More often than good or terrible, these boasts are tired. There's only so much you can say about how good you are, how good you have it, how good you can sex it up right. Particularly out of style and downright inappropriate are the money boasts. In today's economy, people aren't trying to hear how much money someone else has*4. In the months to come, the true revolutionary MCs will play up their shrewdness and frugality*5. I'd like to offer a helping hand in the form of recession-proof rap boasts*6:

Ain't got no love for Seamus,
This life I live is nuts,
Turns out that I'm so famous,
Get discounts on my haircuts

I appeal to your honey,
And you know I'm gonna,
She'll travel in style,
I'll call a cab if I wanna

Go 'head and call your boys,
You makin' all that noise,
I got the Pennysaver,
Found a discount on Ben 10 toys

Zirconia on my hand,
Sterling silver 'round my neck
Switch to the store brand,
Savin' up my rebate check

Cash put you up on that mountain,
But just now I ain't got any,
Yesterday, dove in a fountain,
Found three quarters and a penny

Girl, I'll treat you right,
Hop into my Saab,
Eat McDonald's tonight,
Then go look for a job (sing-song: In the mornin')

While you catalog shop,
Spendin' all that cash,
I'm at the co-op,
In the used menswear stash

Got a money market account,
I play it conservative,
The return isn't great,
But the stability's superlative*7

Note: If you're someone who came back to this blog after reading my previous post and expected a similar level of discourse, I have failed you.

* Wont is a word I have never heard in a rap song.

*2 Talib Kweli "Beautiful Struggle"

*3 Kanye West (guesting with Jadakiss) "Gettin' It In"

*4 See my previous post, and the lives of everyone you know who wasn't in Forbes magazine this year.

*5 The term 'shrugality' is ready for the streets.

*6 NOT recession-proof rap BOATS; buying a boat right now is ridiculous unless you plan to live on it.

*7 Yes, this is what I did just now instead of looking for a job. Why do you ask?

The Few, The Proud, The Unemployed

2009-01-19T06:19:00.008-06:00

Well, the other shoe dropped last night. As of March 31st, 2009, the Harry W. Schwartz Bookshops will be closing. Among a crowd of almost all of their employees the announcement was made that the current climate is finally too much for Milwaukee's oldest and easily best-loved family-owned bookstore chain.

The Iron Horse of Independent Book Selling

I could say that I'm still processing the information, but that's not true. One thing I pride myself on is my ability to ingest and compartmentalize bad news like nobody's business. I've had enough practice in my twenty-seven years that this is old hat. In fact, this isn't even the first time I've been in a closing bookstore. Before coming aboard at Schwartz, I closed out a Barnes & Noble store, but I must say that this is different. While there were some coworkers at B&N who I enjoyed spending time with, my crew at the Downer Avenue Schwartz has been, to a person, the finest staff ever assembled for the purpose of book selling.

I have shared passion and excitement with each of them, but also worry and doubt. This group is not a collection of retail workers who happened to land a job in a book shop. We are intelligent readers (and in most cases writers) who honestly sought out the independence and alternative nature that this company has been known for since its inception. Some of us even started a book blog in an effort to increase that sense of community beyond the walls of our store. If you've never been, please go be. The Inside Flap.

What does it mean when the closing of a family-owned company, eighty plus years old, is met with acceptance? With words like 'inevitable', 'foreseen', and 'expected'? To my mind, it's just a fulfillment of the harsh reality that convenience trumps principle most often in this world. When you can cruise Amazon.com for your books, and you have no stake in community, why wouldn't you?

Here's my last-ditch effort on behalf of the myth of independent bricks and mortar. Given the choice, do you want to be an individual? Do you want to feel a sense of exploration and validation where you find your entertainment? Do you want to be able to carry on a five minute conversation that doesn't include stating your 'customer loyalty' number? Don't you want to use those minutes of your day hearing why a book is good rather than shuffling up to a register with one of the same twenty books that people all over the country are shuffling up to registers with? Do you realize that your independent booksellers are in most cases geniuses? These are people with deep convictions borne of extreme familiarity and a broad range of knowledge. These are people who care that their fellow thinking human beings have new synapses fire off in recognition of previously unheard ideas. These are people who can't wait to tell you about some guy who lives in Brazil writing words that speak to universal questions of the self. People who can recommend to you a poet beyond the canon of high school and college who deserves recognition that will never come in a large enough scale. They are not algorithms on a web page parroting best-seller lists. They are not wage slaves pushing the company's pet moneymakers or loss leaders.

But then again, the prices on Amazon are so cheap. Why, you can save six whole dollars on that twenty dollar book. All it costs in return is the erosion of individuality and the closing of four bookstores (today; more to come) filled with a resource that you don't miss until it's gone.

So, there's no way you can stop this. There's no wand to wave and keep my bookshop open. What there is, however, is the choice (losing substance daily) to support the worthwhile endeavor of community and dialogue. I'd ask that every time you see a book for sale online, you question why the reviewer doesn't have a link to BookSense (a collection of independent booksellers in America). When an author says "You can get my book on Amazon.", ask them where else you can get it. Ask them if they plan on going on a book tour sponsored by Amazon. Ask them what other books their latest is bundled with on a website that tracks sales but not content or style.

What will I do now? Well, I hear piracy in back en vogue, and I have always wanted to replace my left hand with a hook. If retail can be escaped after an adult life work history of eight years of uninterrupted book selling, then I'll claw my way to something else (hook hand or not). I know I won't be going back to The Evil Empire (that's the retail outlet based out of NY that's corporate with a capital B&N). I've been spoiled by the ease and humanity of Schwartz, and can't go back to being a cog. I can write, but writing doesn't pay bills at this point. For me, I see a stopgap sweeping floors in a warehouse. Don't feel bad. It's honest work, and I'm not a careerist who needs to be defined by his work. There is an attractive aspect to leaving work on the job and keeping my passions at home, pure and joyous. This is the economy we've been left by our benevolent dictator, and I can survive it. That said, if any publishing types are reading this and want to pay me a ridiculous amount of money to pontificate, I still have seven minutes left on my prepaid cell phone. Hit me up.

I must thank Carol Grossmeyer, owner and driving spirit of the shops for her tireless dedication to the ideal and the process of book selling. My hat is off to her for continuing the stewardship of a dream embodied by her late husband David and his father before him. Eighty years of struggle ensures that this company sets the standard for all others looking to swim against the tide. If you are looking for an example to follow, look no further.

Let's end for now with a list of the finest booksellers I know. All of the names on this list are diamonds waiting to be set in your rings, CEOs.

Doug James
Joe Lisberg
Conrad Silverberg
Stacie Williams
Carl Hoffman
Jay Johnson
Sarah Marine
Jordan Gower
Bayard Godsave
Myra Poe
Drew Blanchard

I remain Justin Riley, book lover.

The Schwartz Bookshop on Downer Avenue, when it was still a game and money hadn't made it a business. Or the 1927 New York Yankees (aka Murderer's Row). It's one of those two.

(Edited to add:)

Bookselling was and is for me a cultural and political expression, an expression of progressive change, of challenge to oppressive authority, of a search for a community of values which can act as an underpinning of a better world. The true profit in bookselling is the social profit; the bottom line, the measure of the impact of the bookshop on the community.

-A. David Schwartz (July 15, 1938 - June 7, 2004)

The Wisdom Of Crowds......Of Two

2009-01-08T09:43:00.007-06:00

My almost six months old daughter has figured out that magic word: 'Mama'. She now uses it (almost exclusively in my presence) whenever she wants comfort or to register a complaint. She drags the second syllable out just long enough to sound urgent, but not so long as to annoy.

To mark this august occasion, I thought I'd present some of the wisdom and linguistic tactics she will be learning from her almost five years old brother in the years to come.

The Dairy Children
"I want milk!"
"I want cheese."

1) The 'Hallelujah Chorus' from Handel's 'Messiah' should be sung as "Halle-yua! Halle-yua, Halle-yua!"

2) Sesame Street takes place in 'Yew Nork'.

3) Asking 'Are you proud of me?' after farting is hilarious, and doesn't ever get old.

4) Whenever you don't get what you want, crib your arguments from teen television shows.

Neil: "Did you bring me anything, Dad?"
Me: "Nope. Not today. Sorry, buddy."
Neil (immediately): "You're not the only person in the world! I'm here, too!"
Me: "I don't know what that means."

5) If Dad ever expresses annoyance in regards to a song, it is a weakness to be exploited. Strike hard and often, barraging him with the tune at every opportunity. To get you started, try the "I like to move it, move it" song they used in 'Madagascar' and most of the songs featured in the Shrek movies.

6) 'Please' and 'Thank You' are often necessary in getting what you want, but don't 'give away the store'. Every time Dad has to remind you to say them, he will feel a little more like an authoritarian codger.

An Open Letter

2008-12-30T06:14:00.007-06:00

Dear 75% Of The Property Owners Residing On Belleview Place Between Oakland and Downer Avenues*,

Unscientific Breakdown of Area Residents:

College students who just want to be able to get to their cars - 65%
Old folks who remember when stuff you used to be here that isn't here anymore - 15%
Residents of peculiar passion, ie. 'crazy people' - 10%
Bohemians (who really like coffee) - 4%
Fish & Game - 4%
Fairy folk (these may just be children) - 2%
Note: Fish & Game and Fairy folk/possible children have in the past voted as a bloc to hedge out Bohemians.

I hope this letter finds you well. Did you get everything you wanted for Christmas? Hannukah? Kwanzaa? Heathen Tree Renewal Day? The Sun God Festival? Deep Atheistic Sighing Day?*2

I'm writing this morning to apprise you of my own Christmas wish. Namely that you get off your ham/turkey/tofu/tofurkey/latke/no longer bleating, sacrificed goat-eating*3 asses and salt your sidewalks.

It's true, we have had two consecutive days without measurable snowfall. However, melting snow combined with overnight freezing temperatures creates icy patches the likes of which could lead to people (even he-man types like myself) looking like uncoordinated dorks and breaking their ass bones. While the merits of salting to get rid of ice can be debated by the greatest minds of SCIENCE, the traction afforded by little crystalized particles CANNOT. I'm not going to debate you, East Side.

True, this is not the stretch of sidewalk in question, but it illustrates my point better, so you're going to have to fool yourself into believing it is. Or is the magic gone from your life?

No, the time for debate is over. Now it's time for taint punches for the unwilling and less powerful taint punches for the unable.*4 Unless you've got some iron underwear, you best get salting.*5

What's worse? Chafing or a bruised undercarriage?

* A small percentage of the interweb's constituency, but a vital one for my nefarious purposes. A seven block stretch at six in the morning, with little light, seems like the expanse of the world on four hours sleep.

*2 I'm going to assume you did because I have no way of asking each of you individually, and truth be told, don't really care. It's a pleasantry to ask, nothing more.

*3 While this list is not all-encompassing as to the options available to you for celebratory dinners, if you ate anything else, you are probably a shifty loner who deserves scorn. Don't like it? Get on board the approved food train.

*4 Sorry, invalids. I've got to keep it fair.

*5 I know not everyone received the gift of iron underwear this year, but I can't resist boasting about mine.

Have You Heard The Good News?

2008-12-10T10:31:00.006-06:00

There's a nice review of Rival Angels on Ain't It Cool News*. Why is that good news? Because Rival Angels is the labor of love perpetrated on the interweb by my friend Alan Evans. He's a good guy, it's a fun read, and I am being paid to write this*2.

Also, I'd be missing a great whoring opportunity*3 if I neglected to mention that an upcoming chapter, on the origin of Sun Wong*4, is written by some dork named Justin Riley*5.

* Yes, it is cool.

*2 Not really. No "Blagojeviching" here.

*3 And I get so few of those now that I'm on government assistance. Actually, is it "whoring" if you don't get paid? Is pro bono "whoring" really "slutting" or "skanking"? Deep thoughts.

*4 The coolest titular Angel, IMHO.

*5 Obviously a pseudonym.

Joyous Season Of Giving

2008-12-03T09:08:00.004-06:00

Sure, they probably won't be 'door busters'.........

1) The Back Fat-alizer
"It's just a re-purposed backpack leaf blower", you say?. Not if you've got the back of a fat guy. Fill the tank with diesel, strap it on and vibrate your way to a smooth and sexy spine.

2) Where's Your Messiah Now?: A Norwegian Death Metal Holiday
Featuring Santaface, The Doom Carolers, Electric Viking Funeral,
The Headless Children of Oslo Choir, and many more.

3) Delicious Replacements Edible Prostheses
Do you find yourself forgetting to bring dessert to family gatherings due to your psychological scarring after 'the incident'? Out on an impromptu 'survivors picnic' when your sweet tooth starts acting up? Here's the answer you've been hoping for (other than a magical restoration of your wholeness)! Available in milk chocolate, dark chocolate, vanilla, and cinnamon.

4) Fancy Shmancy I'm A Writer Kit
Want everyone to know you write? What better way then by telling them in every way possible? Kit includes a near professional-quality photograph of you in a variety of backdrops; - leaning against the hood of your vintage car, - with your cat glasses hanging alluringly by a stem from your teeth, - underlit extreme close-up to make you look dangerous, - on a bridge in Prague, the cold no match for the devastating cold in your soul, - with goofy, just woke up hair that says "I'm THAT ambivalent", and others. Along with the dynamic photograph, there are seven different book formats available to affix it to the back of (Books do not come pre-written; that's your job). Also included, a prepared obituary to fit your aspirations; available in Gonzo Journalist, World-Weary Traveler, Dynamic Futurist, Manly Hooker Beater, Gay Terrorist, Criminal Writing From Death Row, Spunky Manhattanite, Foreign National With A Far Better Appreciation of America's Promise, Slam Poet and Cougar. More styles to come!

5) MegaFun Stabby Ball
It's like Hot Potato, except someone gets stabbed. For ages 4 and up - any younger and they just don't appreciate the danger they're in.

6) Personal Racist Monkey
Hate people based on geographic or cultural differences but don't want to be 'that guy'? Now you can let your racist monkey do your dirty work for you! Trained to hate using the most cutting-edge behavioral modification programs, racist monkeys come with a variety of crude t-shirts espousing their/your views, and are the perfect scape goats! Coming Soon: Sanctity of Marriage Parrots!

7) One Man Bailout Kit
Need a hand up, but don't own a multinational corporation?! Now there's hope for you!! From subterfuge to criminal enterprise, The OMB Kit has you covered!!! This kit includes fancy letterhead appliques, forged balance statements regarding your many 'offshore holdings', 'letters' from your 'workers' promising violent retribution for your pissing away of their 401ks, and if all else fails, a stiletto and a .38 special.

8) Things To Do Desk Planner
An attractive imitation leather planner with a different scientific, artistic, medical or social breakthrough listed on each day. Accompanying these achievements are special motivational messages such as: "What have YOU done today?", "...but eating Cheetos and watching the America's Next Top Model marathon is good, too.", "For some people, just avoiding jail time is an accomplishment.", and "Wonder if anyone would even care enough to check your house and make sure you haven't died."

9) Baby, I've Been Cheating Kit
There's no easy way to say it, but it doesn't have to get you ganked. Protect yourself while you reveal what a dick you are. Comes with a titanium athletic cup, ear plugs, kevlar vest (for heart stabbings), mouth guard, pup tent, replacement cell phone, change of clothes and VHS copy of The First Wives Club; a parting gift to start the healing. But The Kid Ain't Mine expansion pack also available.

10) "Stop Reporting Forest Fires" T-Shirt
The code of the streets says 'Stop Snitching'; now the code of the woods can finally be included in you wardrobe! By wearing your "Stop Reporting Forest Fires" t-shirt, you can let all those punk-ass bustas know that what happens on your acre stays on your acre. Ain't nobody's bidness who started what or what's burning down, son.

Neil Gaiman and Free Speech

2008-12-01T13:59:00.003-06:00

It will come as no surprise to those who know me well that one of the namesakes for my son is Mr. Gaiman. A recent blog posting of his exemplifies one of the reasons why. Aside from the fantastic work he puts out in book and comic form, he's also a thoughtful and diligent defender of free speech and argues such here.

Thoughts From The Walk Home

2008-11-24T16:44:00.004-06:00

Exiting the bus long before my stop to get Scotch tape and a side dish for dinner*, I came to a conclusion while walking the rest of the way home: It's cold.

Q: How cold?

A: Colder than Dick Cheney's heart*2.

What do you mean, "this is two sizes too small"?

* I went with New York brand Five-cheese Garlic Toast. The most Eastern Liberal Elite of all garlic toasts.

*2 Yes, he DOES have a heart......but it pumps high-grade oil. The techs at Cheney Corp have yet to find a better alternative power source for his many steampunk-style servos and pulley system strength enhancers. They tried retrofitting him with a homunculus in his chest cavity, but the imp wreaked absolute hell with his targeting systems - hence the time he shot that old man in the face.

More Information Than You Require - John Hodgman

2008-11-21T09:15:00.012-06:00

If, like me, you are constantly frustrated by the mainstream media's ignorance regarding the contributions made to our democracy by mole men, take heart*. John Hodgman, of internet and minor television fame, is ready to blow the doors off the vault of knowledge with More Information Than You Require.

There's the vault of knowledge now. Prior to this book it was fifty percent less explode-y.

A direct continuation of his previous work, The Areas Of My Expertise, MITYR*2 doesn't even bother restarting page count from where it's predecessor left off (it's that much of a continuation). There's always more fake knowledge to be illuminated and Hodgman's flashlight of false truth runs on some organic battery alternative to conventional means*3. Whether he's revealing which of our presidents was a Time Lord, why uber-guitarist Steve Vai could not bring himself to kill Ralph Macchio, or the hidden danger of tiny doctors from the future, Hodgman does so with the studiousness and passion I wish our actual "accredited" historians could. But they can't.

It takes a rare breed to hang out on Twitter and go to Hollywood parties, plumbing the depths of situational notoriety in search of mole-manic rumor and sure thing bar bets to compile for his readers. I salute you, John Hodgman; you live the life so Doris Kearns Goodwin and David McCullough*4 don't have to, and that has made all the difference.

On a personal note, this book is worth buying simply to know why Milwaukee was destroyed by a violent downpour of skulls on February 12th, 1980. Having been born just nineteen months later, I never knew of this event, and probably never would have if not for John Hodgman and his wonderful lies*5.

* Genuine Hissfurther, you are not forgotten.

*2 As the kids and the robots call it.

*3 Much like the Oan Power Ring of Green Lantern fame.

In brightest day, in blackest night,
No evil shall escape my sight
Let those who worship evil's might,
Beware my power...Green Lantern's light!

*4 Respected historians who write about 'actual' history, if that's what you're in to.

*5 Now I know why I find skulls every time I hang out at the beach. Whew! That's a relief!

Good Music That I Have Recently Accquired - Cardinology

2008-11-21T06:33:00.005-06:00

The election is over*. The tragicomedy of robo-calls, pallin' around with terrorists, and crazy ladies who don't trust radical Muslim Arab Socialists who belong to radical Christian churches who hate America has come to a close. The curtain is down, and I've got nothin'*2.

So, until I can reliably purchase my comic books and write about them*3, we'll be branching out into another source of entertainment. Music.

Whether by hook or by crook*4, here's some new music I've enjoyed. You should enjoy it too; or don't you like music? If you don't, I can't actually make a case for your humanity, robot.

This time we'll be looking at:

Cardinology - Ryan Adams & The Cardinals

There's an elephant in the room*5 when you talk about Ryan Adams. The haters say two things; "He just makes the same records" and "He jumps around between genres too much". First, shut up. Then, reconcile those two statements. You can't, can you? Know why? Because they are directly at odds with one another. I can see a time twenty years on, after Sarah Palin has plunged us into a nuclear winter during her third administration, when people talk about Ryan Adams like we talk about Neil Young right now. He's got a lot to say, most of it entirely worth your loss of hearing. Some of it needs saying in a honkytonk, some in a sweaty arena, some on your stoop while talking with a pretty lady (or pretty dude), and some on the morning after being in those places, when your brain is still soaked in a cocktail of endorphins, regret and alcohol*6.

With that opening statement out of the way, is it any good? Cardinology is so 'any good' that it's 'any great'. Adams is spot-on lyrically and The Cardinals continue to be the best musicians your hipster friend forgets to name-check when making dream lineups and ordering frilly cocktails*7. By turns hopeful, heartbroken, snide, shit-kicking, whistful and tuneful, there's not a bad song of the lot. And as stated earlier, The Cardinals sound like Music wished it could sound when it was Little Music. This being the last album of their contract with Lost Highway Records, I wouldn't be a bit surprised if all forthcoming releases just came out under the name The Cardinals. Maybe then skeptics could put aside there preconceptions of the front man and enjoy the music and words without the drama and spotlight.

Also, Ryan Adams is a huge Batman fan who admits to using some comic dialogue while writing lyrics*8. Score!

* Except for Georgia and Minnesota; seriously, GA, can you keep yourselves from voting for the man that even John McCain called "worse than disgraceful" and "reprehensible"? And Minnesota, join the progressive midwest; we won't make you gay marry a spotted owl......yet.

*2 The hits to this site plummet when I don't post, and I love anonymous attention too much to let so much time go by between your visits. Get ready for a flurry of small posts to sucker you into coming back and checking if anything consequential is going on. Whorish, to be sure.

*3 Which everyone knows is a vastly underserved corner of 'the internets'.

*4 That is to say by either robbery using a bladed prosthesis or shoplifting.

*5 'The room' meaning the international net we call the interwebs. It's a big room, but there's a funky smell that pervades most of it. Sorry, that was me. Also, the elephant is looking smaller since November 4th.

*6 Endorphins, Regret and Alcohol: The Justin Riley Story

*7 Bar rule: Anything that takes longer than five seconds to order is inefficient and lame.

*8 This is good unless I hear the phrase 'cowardly and superstitious lot' on the next album. Then it's awesome.

An Interweb Meme Of "On To You"

2008-11-20T13:39:00.005-06:00

Respected yet pensive, biking-to-work public radio host John Moe started this with the prodding of Scott "I have a bitchin' podcast" Simpson.

Let's expand this series of tubes to let the world know "I'm On To You". Here's my contribution...

I'm on to you, guy wearing shorts on November 20th in Milwaukee.

I'm on to you, Henry Paulson.

I'm on to you, "The entire (insert name of comic book universe) will be changed forever!!!"

I'm on to you with a vengeance, out of state money to sway another state's civil rights laws.

And there's no way I couldn't be on to you, reduced size Cadbury Creme Eggs. My hunger found you out.

So, what are you on to? What or who isn't fooling you for a second. Leave your comments and I'll buy you a black and white cookie.*

* In honor of Barack Obama. No, not an Oreo, that's just wrong and mean. In honor of togetherness and unity and hope and change and cookies*2.

*2 Offer of cookie valid in Milwaukee, WI only. Sorry other 49 and D.C., I gots to look out for my peeps.

Thank You, America

2008-11-04T23:28:00.003-06:00

Just thanks.

Vote Like You Matter

2008-11-04T06:49:00.003-06:00

They've called us fake. They've said we're apathetic. They've said that when we do care we're radical, or naive, or daydreamers. They've called us Anti-American. They have riddled the system with disincentives to participate. They have corrupted our process with rules designed to keep us out until we've become sufficiently beaten down to just accept what we're given, like kicked dogs at their feet.

Who is they? Well, it's them, most assuredly. But it's also us. We've been jaded, uninformed, distracted. We've almost let this country get so twisted and unrecognizable that it's beyond our ability to address what's wrong.

Today's the day to change that. Today is the day to use the most powerful voice we have, the collective outcry against what is wrong; the clarion call to stop killing in our name, stop rewarding vultures and opportunists. To stop the anti-thought that parades around as patriotism.

Today is the day to prove that we are paying attention. To prove that we know when we're being lied to and that we do not agree to keep taking it. Today is the day to say apathy is a luxury we don't have anymore, and that we've grown immune to the fear they've tried to cultivate in us. Today is the day to be better people and to demand that our leaders be better people too.

The world is watching, and they matter. We are not alone on this planet, and we cannot continue to pretend otherwise. We need to be an example to those who need one, and a humble adherent to the best ideas and positive spirit put forth from all areas of the world.

Today is the day to show that we care about us, and we care about them, too.

So go vote already.