PowerBlog 69!
You'd be surprised how many posts I begin that I never finish. Happens all the time: some notion will strike me that seems funny or sad or peculiar or exciting or strange... and I'll realize after I begin typing that I really only have about two sentences to say about it.
I've built up a pretty impressive library of Blogs That Never Were over the years and it occurred to me today that it might be a meaningless excercise of mundane proportions to dedicate a post to several of them. A PowerBlog!
Heck, 69 is a nice round number.
Onward!
Not all black people, Kanye, just you.
Surely I can't be the only one who refuses to go to Six Flags based on the creepiness of their mascot, can I?
Man, where can I buy an album by these guys? They've got a great sound.
Look, Mirrormask opens this weekend in a few theaters around the country. If, like me, you're lucky enough to live near one of said theaters, please go. Box office sales for the first week will determine whether or not it gets a full-blown release and the world really deserves to experience this piece of art. Check listings.
People that don't like comics should give Adrian Tomine a try and people that do like comics really should.
Lately I've been remembering many, many horrible things I've said to people I love over the course of my lifetime and I've been feeling really bad about them. I'm sorry.
Join the navy, brothers and sisters. You'll find that common weeds taste like soul food, y'dig?
Websites are wonderful things. I hear from long lost friends fairly regularly because they just "happened to find me on the internet".
(Hola,Mr. Dr. Spence!)
I can't describe how friggin' crazy it makes me that there's even a debate about whether or not the theory of evolution should be presented as a theory in schools. Great Scott, is this world ever backward.
When I was a little tyke, my teacher asked the class who we would have lunch with if we could have lunch with anyone in the whole world. My answer was Don Adams, who played Maxwell Smart, Agent 86. As it turns out, he died yesterday.
Bye, Don. I'll miss ya.
T-minus 7-1/2 months to 30. O god.
Remember Kim Becker? From Grace? Yeah, she blogs too.
You know how Arrested Development is the best thing on TV? Well... wait, you didn't? Well, it is. Go watch.
Does anyone other than Schwyzen remember the Mall Dropper? I kind of doubt it.
I feel so incredibly awful that it's been nearly a year since I've eked out one of my Suggest-A-Scripts and I still get suggestions all the time. I really really really will get back to that. Really.
What if you could register or patent an activity, like you can a phrase or invention? Like, every time someone did one certain thing, you received a quarter? If this were possible, I think I'd patent masturbation, because there really should be some sacrifice involved and, yahoo, I'd retire in an hour.
I just finished a two year sketchbook in a year and nine months. Damn my prolific soul!
I'd really, truly planned on visiting Ohio over Christmas, which would have been my first Christmas in four years with the family, but no dice. The funds just aren't there. Nonetheless, we're planning a spring visit.
It's been awhile since I've updated my Recommended Reading. Anyhow, at the moment I'm reading Anansi Boys, which, so far, isn't bad.
If you haven't tried podcasts, you really should. For one thing, you don't have to miss Knute Larson ever again.
This weekend I played checkers with Carey. I spent much of the game telling her about my Grandpa Bear, who was a legitimate checkers champion. I sort of miss Grandpa. He was a smart man and I have the feeling he might have let me in on The Secret if I'd ever taken the time to ask him.
Bloggers are ridiculed pretty often and sometimes it gets to me. And then I'll read a post like Kirsten's and I think, "screw 'em. Life is gorgeous."
2005 will see the publication of not one, but two books by Chris Ware. Ware is probably the finest living graphic storyteller and this is truly an embarrassment of riches.
Never did get around to mentioning this: my good buddy Tim McMahan has put a chunk of his spare time into his personal shrine to plagiarism, got ripoffs?. In a nutshell, he collects examples of the most blatantly copied ad campaign of all time, "got milk?", and posts pictures of them in his Gallery of Shame. Worth a look and a laff.
Lately, I've been having visions of doing a webcomic. Maybe the further adventures of Mount Paran, but I don't know. I thought about a series of one-page bios on people I respect and admire. I can think of several people I'd like to do, but the first would surely be this guy. No whammies!
Who decided boxers were cool? I hate them. They're the very definition of discomfort. Boxers are like France: they pretend to support you, but when it's time to make a stand, they leave you hanging.
Buh-dum-bump.
This might seem harmless, but I'll warn you: the longer you watch, the more disturbed you'll become.
There's a really funny discussion over at The Comics Journal message boards about unintentionally sexual comic books of yore. My favorite offender by far is a Christian comic from the 70s about the book of Revelation, There's a New World Coming.
A couple of choice moments:
and
Tomorrow night, Carey and I are enjoying a relationship first: we're going to a baseball game together. Actually, I can't remember ever attending any sporting event with her, it's just never been a priority. Whatever, go Dodgers!
I'm obsessed with Google Maps. For some reason, I can't stop grabbing satellite images of places that are important to me. It's like an illness. For example:
So the big stink over here in California, Governor Schwarzenegger has called for a special election and everyone's throwing a tantrum about how much the election is costing. The left-leaning are on the horns of a dillemma: go to the voting booths in droves to stop the evil Republican agenda? Or boycott the election in order to complain that an expensive and unbalanced election was held that was barely attended?
Look, no one said being a Democrat is easy.
Or how about this: a reality-based TV show that's completely predicated on the allure of seeing others humiliated? Can you imagine? I THINK IT MIGHT BE CRAZY ENOUGH TO WORK!
I'm a big fan of grammar and vocabulary, even if I'm not exactly an expert. Mom tells me I used to literally strangle my sisters when I heard them mispronounce a word. An intense lad, me.
But vocab flubs still make me nuts. One I've been hearing a lot lately is "discreet" in place of "distinct", which I don't understand at all. "As I see it, it's not one big problem, but rather two discreet smaller problems." What? Sure, they sound sort of similar, but that's a big difference and the difference seems to elude those around me.
Meanwhile no one cares. But, make no mistake, you'll never catch Erin Burtoft or Lauren Martin making those sorts of mistakes. Not after I'M done with 'em.
Both Sheryl Crow and Fiona Apple have long-awaited albums that are about to drop, which makes me a very happy young man.
Who decided that pink was a feminine color? I love pink. Mix a little white with red and suddenly it's either gay or girly. Ridiculous! Sometimes I try to sneak pink into my designs and I always get the finger wag: "I don't think we're trying to appeal to an exclusively female demographic with this piece, Mr. Bear. Change that to yellow."
'Exclusively feminine' my aunt banana! I want pink!
Have you heard about this? Apparently, they're making a Diary of Anne Frank movie, casting Anne Frank as herself using photographs of her as a guide to building a CG Anne.
Come on, that's creepy.
Enough with the bleached film, the high-speed photography, the half-nekkid choreography and the green-screened pop whores... that's what I call a music video, who's with me?
As reported on WailerMutterings...
Congratulations, Honuses! Now update that blog 'fore I turn you over mah knee!
About a month ago, I was chased through the streets of Long Beach by a guy who I think was either a car thief or a gang member, probably both. I escaped, but it was scary.
Even though my Dad swears they're the left arm of the vast Liberal Conspiracy, I can't help it: the wife turned me on to NPR and I can't stop listening. It's like a high-culture addiction.
Morning Edition! Talk of the Nation! All Things Considered! Prarie Home Companion! More! More! MORE!
Periodically, I work on my stand-up routine. I've never really seriously tried my hand at stand-up in a bonafide comedy club, but one day... I've been putting together my act for about... eh... about eight years now. Here's an excerpt:
It, uh. It goes on from there.
Yeah, go ahead, pull up to the drive-thru and just try to order one of these things by name without feeling like a complete failure as a human being.
Seriously, do not miss this week's issue of The A.V. Club. Featured interviews are Gaiman and McKean, so it's worth a look.
Not that I'm biased.
That's my desktop wallpaper up there. What can I tell you? I love the Coz!
And, living in the ghetto, I also like what he has to say (if you're not careful, you may learn something before it's done.... hey, hey, hey!).
For our small group, we're supposed to be reading through this book by our pastor and I'm having trouble finding the motivation to pick it up. I hate to label it "Christian Self Help", but isn't that what it is? Unfortunately, I have little to no patience for self help books, even the Christian variety. Maybe I need to just swallow my pride and read the friggin' thing.
For awhile it was The Cure, then Blues Traveller took the title. But, I don't know, anymore I'm starting to wonder if System of a Down isn't my least favorite band of all time.
How can people listen to these chowderheads?
I'd like to take this opportunity to give public kudos to my good friend, Danny Wright. A few months ago he asked for my advice on starting a blog, so I threw him a few opinions. And now, his is one of my favorite spots on the internet. His blog is consistently updated and consistently interesting, sparking some great discussions and, though I hate to admit it, my favorite posts of his are the ones I disagree with.
Keep 'em coming, Danny.
Only on the internet could something as ridiculous and gonzo as the Wikipedia exist. For the few who still don't know: it's a community-populated, comprehensive encyclopedia of Everything. Anyone can add to it and anyone can change it. It's an enormous mass of liquid information. If I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't believe it, but it's fast becoming the ultimate reference tool.
Score one more for the hive.
Really, what's a "spiritual goal"? Back in my Christian school days, I was constantly told to "set spiritual goals" for myself, but I wonder: do you ever reach them? Sure, 'pray daily' or 'read through the New Testament' are goals, but aren't they more discipline goals?
'Get closer to God'? Is that a spiritual goal? If so, does anyone ever check it off their list?
Sometimes I feel like the last person on Earth that drinks tap water.
You just know that somehow, somewhere there are twin girls in elementary school right now named Katrina and Rita and their classmates are giving them all kinds of shit.
Poor kids! Leave 'em alone!
A practice that's gaining some apparent popularity in trendy LA establishements is the co-ed bathroom. A friend of Carey was recently telling me about it: "it's just cool, you know? At a club or a bar, just one big bathroom. Really laid back."
Why is this cool? It sounds like misery. I don't like doing God's Work in front of other guys (or even my wife for that matter), much less women I've never met.
Ever sit in a bathroom stall, waiting until the room is clear before the Big Release? Multiply that paranoia by 20 and there's your co-ed bathroom.
Have to say it: give Michael Brown a break.
It's easy and convenient to take the mistakes he's made and turn him into the focal point of all the anger, pain and hatred. Somehow, it's more fulfilling and substantial than blaming the real culprit: Hurricane Katrina.
Brown's right: local authorities should have done more, and faster. So are we really angry at Brown for defending himself?
People have suffered and died and they continue to do so and a lot certainly has been botched in the relief effort. But here? Now? Is blame helping?
This and other very interesting nuggets are found on the American Library Association's website. As it happens, this is Banned Books Week, and there's a very interesting and informative page about "Challenged and Banned Books" for emphasis.
Sometimes I think that, across the board, censorship is fairly bogus.
Fonts are a total drag, man. A lot of pretty ones out there, but one of the lousiest aspects of design is sifting through the mountains of total crap in order to find that one, beautiful diamond in the rough.
I've been meaning to mention this for a long, long time: I've never met Dirk Voetberg in person, but I've received the occasional email from him. Friends, this man is hilarious. He's a stand-up (and I swear I will get up to LA to watch his set one of these days), but in the meantime he does have a website.
Funny funny!
Okay, these are absolutely fantastic.
I like Blogger, I really do. It's free, it's reliable and it's served me well.
But I have to admit: while it's technologically more liberating and (I think) intuitive, there's a real community spirit to spots like Xanga and Livejournal. These people can't get enough of each other and it shows in their comments boxes.
(Like Jewett, for example. That cat may love the internet, but not as much as the internet loves him. Woof!)
Came across a list awhile back of the 50 Greatest Graphic Novels Of All Time and was slightly aghast at how much of the list was complete crap. (Okay, "crap" is pretty strong, but are we really considering "Ultimate Spider-Man" a milestone in graphic literature?)
Anyhow, I started thinking about what would go on my own list of 50 Greatest GNs and, before I knew it, I'd written one. I swore, however, I'd never post it anywhere, lest my cover as a reasonable adult be compromised.
Too late.
Every so often, an illustration is taken all the way to final art before the client decides to pass on it. Don't worry, I still get paid, but it's sort of a shame because a substantial amount of work went into something that no one will ever see.
Here's an example:
99% of those "Learn to Draw Like the Pros!" books are 100% bunk, but I do love it when artists I respect and admire give a peek behind the curtain at their process.
Art tutorials. I don't know, I love 'em. A few good ones on the net are worth a look, such as Coop's, Michael Zulli's and Adi Granov's.
Don't bother with this guy's, though. Self-important blowhard.
I only mention it rarely, but I do worry about my wife on occassion. Those that know her well know that her life has been littered with health struggles, which makes simple things like work and excercise particularly difficult. Frankly, she experiences more pain than someone her age should ever have to think about.
Lately, it's no different. Despite her commitment to the meds, the Lupus seems to be giving her grief and that really sucks, so prayers are appreciated.
That's Kent, my college roommate. Great guy who lives in Manhattan, happens to have a dramatically concave chest.
That's his new girlfriend beside him, Anne. She's an up and coming actress of note who you might have seen on TV (a national ad spot for the American Medical Association).
"She's a really great girl, Jer," Kent tells me, "she's smart, she's beautiful... she's really turned on by that gaping hole in my chest!"
Finally, since I'm only getting around to posting this on Wednesday, a very Happy Birthday to my dear sister Erin Burtoft, 28 smackeroos today. Enjoy it, Er. Pretty soon it'll be nothing but bibs and high chairs, crayons and lunch money, school plays and track meets, girlfriends and mortar boards.
You'll do just fine.
Whew. I think that's 69. Okay, I'm beat.
Later, skaters.
I've built up a pretty impressive library of Blogs That Never Were over the years and it occurred to me today that it might be a meaningless excercise of mundane proportions to dedicate a post to several of them. A PowerBlog!
Heck, 69 is a nice round number.
Onward!
Not all black people, Kanye, just you.
Surely I can't be the only one who refuses to go to Six Flags based on the creepiness of their mascot, can I?
Man, where can I buy an album by these guys? They've got a great sound.
Look, Mirrormask opens this weekend in a few theaters around the country. If, like me, you're lucky enough to live near one of said theaters, please go. Box office sales for the first week will determine whether or not it gets a full-blown release and the world really deserves to experience this piece of art. Check listings.
People that don't like comics should give Adrian Tomine a try and people that do like comics really should.
Lately I've been remembering many, many horrible things I've said to people I love over the course of my lifetime and I've been feeling really bad about them. I'm sorry.
Join the navy, brothers and sisters. You'll find that common weeds taste like soul food, y'dig?
Websites are wonderful things. I hear from long lost friends fairly regularly because they just "happened to find me on the internet".
(Hola,
I can't describe how friggin' crazy it makes me that there's even a debate about whether or not the theory of evolution should be presented as a theory in schools. Great Scott, is this world ever backward.
When I was a little tyke, my teacher asked the class who we would have lunch with if we could have lunch with anyone in the whole world. My answer was Don Adams, who played Maxwell Smart, Agent 86. As it turns out, he died yesterday.
Bye, Don. I'll miss ya.
T-minus 7-1/2 months to 30. O god.
Remember Kim Becker? From Grace? Yeah, she blogs too.
LAUREN: Hey, Jer, we've picked out names for the baby.
JER: Really? Lay 'em on me.
LAUREN: Well, if it's a boy... it'll be Evan Jeremiah. Because, you know, we like the name and we like you.
JER: !!! Holy cow, man! I don't know what to say! That's incredible! I can't possibly live up to that!
LAUREN: You probably won't have to, we think it's a girl.
You know how Arrested Development is the best thing on TV? Well... wait, you didn't? Well, it is. Go watch.
Does anyone other than Schwyzen remember the Mall Dropper? I kind of doubt it.
I feel so incredibly awful that it's been nearly a year since I've eked out one of my Suggest-A-Scripts and I still get suggestions all the time. I really really really will get back to that. Really.
What if you could register or patent an activity, like you can a phrase or invention? Like, every time someone did one certain thing, you received a quarter? If this were possible, I think I'd patent masturbation, because there really should be some sacrifice involved and, yahoo, I'd retire in an hour.
I just finished a two year sketchbook in a year and nine months. Damn my prolific soul!
I'd really, truly planned on visiting Ohio over Christmas, which would have been my first Christmas in four years with the family, but no dice. The funds just aren't there. Nonetheless, we're planning a spring visit.
It's been awhile since I've updated my Recommended Reading. Anyhow, at the moment I'm reading Anansi Boys, which, so far, isn't bad.
JER: What's up, my nizzle?
CAREY: Stop right there. You know I don't like racist words in this house.
JER: That's not racist, it's not even the real 'N' word.
CAREY: But it means the same.
JER: Look, if a black man were in this house and he used that word, would you yell at him?
CAREY: Yes I would. I'd say, "that language is fine for you to use on the street, but--"
JER: "The street?" Nice race relations there, babe.
CAREY: Jer! You know what I mean! That's their word, not ours!
JER: "Their?"
CAREY: STOP IT!
If you haven't tried podcasts, you really should. For one thing, you don't have to miss Knute Larson ever again.
This weekend I played checkers with Carey. I spent much of the game telling her about my Grandpa Bear, who was a legitimate checkers champion. I sort of miss Grandpa. He was a smart man and I have the feeling he might have let me in on The Secret if I'd ever taken the time to ask him.
Bloggers are ridiculed pretty often and sometimes it gets to me. And then I'll read a post like Kirsten's and I think, "screw 'em. Life is gorgeous."
2005 will see the publication of not one, but two books by Chris Ware. Ware is probably the finest living graphic storyteller and this is truly an embarrassment of riches.
Never did get around to mentioning this: my good buddy Tim McMahan has put a chunk of his spare time into his personal shrine to plagiarism, got ripoffs?. In a nutshell, he collects examples of the most blatantly copied ad campaign of all time, "got milk?", and posts pictures of them in his Gallery of Shame. Worth a look and a laff.
Lately, I've been having visions of doing a webcomic. Maybe the further adventures of Mount Paran, but I don't know. I thought about a series of one-page bios on people I respect and admire. I can think of several people I'd like to do, but the first would surely be this guy. No whammies!
Who decided boxers were cool? I hate them. They're the very definition of discomfort. Boxers are like France: they pretend to support you, but when it's time to make a stand, they leave you hanging.
Buh-dum-bump.
This might seem harmless, but I'll warn you: the longer you watch, the more disturbed you'll become.
There's a really funny discussion over at The Comics Journal message boards about unintentionally sexual comic books of yore. My favorite offender by far is a Christian comic from the 70s about the book of Revelation, There's a New World Coming.
A couple of choice moments:
and
Tomorrow night, Carey and I are enjoying a relationship first: we're going to a baseball game together. Actually, I can't remember ever attending any sporting event with her, it's just never been a priority. Whatever, go Dodgers!
I'm obsessed with Google Maps. For some reason, I can't stop grabbing satellite images of places that are important to me. It's like an illness. For example:
This is my house: | This is where I work: | This is where I grew up: | This is where I met Carey: |
So the big stink over here in California, Governor Schwarzenegger has called for a special election and everyone's throwing a tantrum about how much the election is costing. The left-leaning are on the horns of a dillemma: go to the voting booths in droves to stop the evil Republican agenda? Or boycott the election in order to complain that an expensive and unbalanced election was held that was barely attended?
Look, no one said being a Democrat is easy.
Or how about this: a reality-based TV show that's completely predicated on the allure of seeing others humiliated? Can you imagine? I THINK IT MIGHT BE CRAZY ENOUGH TO WORK!
I'm a big fan of grammar and vocabulary, even if I'm not exactly an expert. Mom tells me I used to literally strangle my sisters when I heard them mispronounce a word. An intense lad, me.
But vocab flubs still make me nuts. One I've been hearing a lot lately is "discreet" in place of "distinct", which I don't understand at all. "As I see it, it's not one big problem, but rather two discreet smaller problems." What? Sure, they sound sort of similar, but that's a big difference and the difference seems to elude those around me.
Meanwhile no one cares. But, make no mistake, you'll never catch Erin Burtoft or Lauren Martin making those sorts of mistakes. Not after I'M done with 'em.
Both Sheryl Crow and Fiona Apple have long-awaited albums that are about to drop, which makes me a very happy young man.
Who decided that pink was a feminine color? I love pink. Mix a little white with red and suddenly it's either gay or girly. Ridiculous! Sometimes I try to sneak pink into my designs and I always get the finger wag: "I don't think we're trying to appeal to an exclusively female demographic with this piece, Mr. Bear. Change that to yellow."
'Exclusively feminine' my aunt banana! I want pink!
Have you heard about this? Apparently, they're making a Diary of Anne Frank movie, casting Anne Frank as herself using photographs of her as a guide to building a CG Anne.
Come on, that's creepy.
Enough with the bleached film, the high-speed photography, the half-nekkid choreography and the green-screened pop whores... that's what I call a music video, who's with me?
As reported on WailerMutterings...
Tom & Christie Burns had their baby today - Everett Thomas Burns -- at about 3:30pm or so here in Worthington! So happy for them. Turner now has a baby brother! Congrats, guys! Can't wait to meet him!
Congratulations, Honuses! Now update that blog 'fore I turn you over mah knee!
JER: Have you noticed that, when I first started the blog, it was mostly updates on us for our family and friends... and now it's sort of evolved into a weblink warehouse of anything on the internet that catches my fancy?
CAREY: Yeah, I noticed.
JER: I wonder if that's a good thing.
CAREY: Eh.
JER: You think it was better when it was funny little anecdotes about our lives?
CAREY: Sometimes. Maybe.
JER: You might be right. But what's going on that's worth reporting?
CAREY: Lots of things. You were chased through Long Beach by a car thief and you never even mentioned it!
JER: Hm. That's true. That's blog-worthy.
CAREY: It's what your readers want.
JER: Yeah, but how do you know? You could start your own blog, you know, no one's stopping you.
CAREY: Eh.
About a month ago, I was chased through the streets of Long Beach by a guy who I think was either a car thief or a gang member, probably both. I escaped, but it was scary.
Even though my Dad swears they're the left arm of the vast Liberal Conspiracy, I can't help it: the wife turned me on to NPR and I can't stop listening. It's like a high-culture addiction.
Morning Edition! Talk of the Nation! All Things Considered! Prarie Home Companion! More! More! MORE!
Periodically, I work on my stand-up routine. I've never really seriously tried my hand at stand-up in a bonafide comedy club, but one day... I've been putting together my act for about... eh... about eight years now. Here's an excerpt:
And how about Diet Coke? These people are geniuses: they took something as sugary and caffeine-laced as Coke and stripped it down to one calorie. You have to ask, though: if they managed to fish out all the other calories, what exactly is the problem with getting rid of that last little fugitive? Is he that elusive?
The Diet Coke calorie is the King of Calories in my book. Ice cream calories, beer calories, cheesecake calories... these are a dime a dozen. The Diet Coke calorie is James Bond. He's Tom Cruise. He's everything a calorie should be. If you're a calorie and your daughter brings home a Diet Coke calorie, you know you've done something right.
It, uh. It goes on from there.
Yeah, go ahead, pull up to the drive-thru and just try to order one of these things by name without feeling like a complete failure as a human being.
Seriously, do not miss this week's issue of The A.V. Club. Featured interviews are Gaiman and McKean, so it's worth a look.
Not that I'm biased.
That's my desktop wallpaper up there. What can I tell you? I love the Coz!
And, living in the ghetto, I also like what he has to say (if you're not careful, you may learn something before it's done.... hey, hey, hey!).
For our small group, we're supposed to be reading through this book by our pastor and I'm having trouble finding the motivation to pick it up. I hate to label it "Christian Self Help", but isn't that what it is? Unfortunately, I have little to no patience for self help books, even the Christian variety. Maybe I need to just swallow my pride and read the friggin' thing.
For awhile it was The Cure, then Blues Traveller took the title. But, I don't know, anymore I'm starting to wonder if System of a Down isn't my least favorite band of all time.
How can people listen to these chowderheads?
I'd like to take this opportunity to give public kudos to my good friend, Danny Wright. A few months ago he asked for my advice on starting a blog, so I threw him a few opinions. And now, his is one of my favorite spots on the internet. His blog is consistently updated and consistently interesting, sparking some great discussions and, though I hate to admit it, my favorite posts of his are the ones I disagree with.
Keep 'em coming, Danny.
Only on the internet could something as ridiculous and gonzo as the Wikipedia exist. For the few who still don't know: it's a community-populated, comprehensive encyclopedia of Everything. Anyone can add to it and anyone can change it. It's an enormous mass of liquid information. If I hadn't seen it, I wouldn't believe it, but it's fast becoming the ultimate reference tool.
Score one more for the hive.
Really, what's a "spiritual goal"? Back in my Christian school days, I was constantly told to "set spiritual goals" for myself, but I wonder: do you ever reach them? Sure, 'pray daily' or 'read through the New Testament' are goals, but aren't they more discipline goals?
'Get closer to God'? Is that a spiritual goal? If so, does anyone ever check it off their list?
Sometimes I feel like the last person on Earth that drinks tap water.
You just know that somehow, somewhere there are twin girls in elementary school right now named Katrina and Rita and their classmates are giving them all kinds of shit.
Poor kids! Leave 'em alone!
A practice that's gaining some apparent popularity in trendy LA establishements is the co-ed bathroom. A friend of Carey was recently telling me about it: "it's just cool, you know? At a club or a bar, just one big bathroom. Really laid back."
Why is this cool? It sounds like misery. I don't like doing God's Work in front of other guys (or even my wife for that matter), much less women I've never met.
Ever sit in a bathroom stall, waiting until the room is clear before the Big Release? Multiply that paranoia by 20 and there's your co-ed bathroom.
Have to say it: give Michael Brown a break.
It's easy and convenient to take the mistakes he's made and turn him into the focal point of all the anger, pain and hatred. Somehow, it's more fulfilling and substantial than blaming the real culprit: Hurricane Katrina.
Brown's right: local authorities should have done more, and faster. So are we really angry at Brown for defending himself?
People have suffered and died and they continue to do so and a lot certainly has been botched in the relief effort. But here? Now? Is blame helping?
 |
| Excuse me, I need to lie down for a minute. |
If all mankind minus one, were of one opinion, and only one person were of the contrary opinion, mankind would be no more justified in silencing that one person, than he, if he had the power, would be justified in silencing mankind. Were an opinion a personal possession of no value except to the owner; if to be obstructed in the enjoyment of it were simply a private injury, it would make some difference whether the injury was inflicted only on a few persons or on many. But the peculiar evil of silencing the expression of an opinion is, that it is robbing the human race; posterity as well as the existing generation; those who dissent from the opinion, still more than those who hold it. If the opinion is right, they are deprived of the opportunity of exchanging error for truth: if wrong, they lose, what is almost as great a benefit, the clearer perception and livelier impression of truth, produced by its collision with error.
— On Liberty, John Stuart Mill
This and other very interesting nuggets are found on the American Library Association's website. As it happens, this is Banned Books Week, and there's a very interesting and informative page about "Challenged and Banned Books" for emphasis.
Sometimes I think that, across the board, censorship is fairly bogus.
Fonts are a total drag, man. A lot of pretty ones out there, but one of the lousiest aspects of design is sifting through the mountains of total crap in order to find that one, beautiful diamond in the rough.
I've been meaning to mention this for a long, long time: I've never met Dirk Voetberg in person, but I've received the occasional email from him. Friends, this man is hilarious. He's a stand-up (and I swear I will get up to LA to watch his set one of these days), but in the meantime he does have a website.
Funny funny!
Okay, these are absolutely fantastic.
I like Blogger, I really do. It's free, it's reliable and it's served me well.
But I have to admit: while it's technologically more liberating and (I think) intuitive, there's a real community spirit to spots like Xanga and Livejournal. These people can't get enough of each other and it shows in their comments boxes.
(Like Jewett, for example. That cat may love the internet, but not as much as the internet loves him. Woof!)
Came across a list awhile back of the 50 Greatest Graphic Novels Of All Time and was slightly aghast at how much of the list was complete crap. (Okay, "crap" is pretty strong, but are we really considering "Ultimate Spider-Man" a milestone in graphic literature?)
Anyhow, I started thinking about what would go on my own list of 50 Greatest GNs and, before I knew it, I'd written one. I swore, however, I'd never post it anywhere, lest my cover as a reasonable adult be compromised.
Too late.
Every so often, an illustration is taken all the way to final art before the client decides to pass on it. Don't worry, I still get paid, but it's sort of a shame because a substantial amount of work went into something that no one will ever see.
Here's an example:
JER: Have you had the steak chili over at Claim Jumper? Oh man.
CHAD: Ooh, that sounds good.
JER: You can order it as your side dish with any sandwich. It's not listed as an option, but a waitress told me it's no problem.
CHAD: Have you had their country fried steak? Too big to finish, but I'm lovin' every minute of it.
JER: Mm.
CHAD: ...
JER: Remember the days when you'd hear adults talking about how good their food was and you'd think, "could you be any lamer?"
CHAD: Yeah. "Talk about something cool, will ya?!"
JER: "Like doin' it!"
CHAD: Ha ha ha! And then you grow up and you realize...
JER: ...Food's got it all over sex.
CHAD: ...
JER: God. Could I be any lamer?
99% of those "Learn to Draw Like the Pros!" books are 100% bunk, but I do love it when artists I respect and admire give a peek behind the curtain at their process.
Art tutorials. I don't know, I love 'em. A few good ones on the net are worth a look, such as Coop's, Michael Zulli's and Adi Granov's.
Don't bother with this guy's, though. Self-important blowhard.
I only mention it rarely, but I do worry about my wife on occassion. Those that know her well know that her life has been littered with health struggles, which makes simple things like work and excercise particularly difficult. Frankly, she experiences more pain than someone her age should ever have to think about.
Lately, it's no different. Despite her commitment to the meds, the Lupus seems to be giving her grief and that really sucks, so prayers are appreciated.
That's Kent, my college roommate. Great guy who lives in Manhattan, happens to have a dramatically concave chest.
That's his new girlfriend beside him, Anne. She's an up and coming actress of note who you might have seen on TV (a national ad spot for the American Medical Association).
"She's a really great girl, Jer," Kent tells me, "she's smart, she's beautiful... she's really turned on by that gaping hole in my chest!"
Finally, since I'm only getting around to posting this on Wednesday, a very Happy Birthday to my dear sister Erin Burtoft, 28 smackeroos today. Enjoy it, Er. Pretty soon it'll be nothing but bibs and high chairs, crayons and lunch money, school plays and track meets, girlfriends and mortar boards.
You'll do just fine.
Whew. I think that's 69. Okay, I'm beat.
Later, skaters.
Labels: dialogue
posted by Jeremy Bear at
7:04 PM
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I'm not a vegetarian, but I am married to one.
