tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-322052892024-03-14T11:09:06.063-07:00The Adventures of Normal GuyA lack of planning on your part, does not constitute an emergency on mine.basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.comBlogger146125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-3264378794767702922016-09-26T13:01:00.000-07:002016-09-26T13:01:05.739-07:00IT'S MOVING DAY<h3>
Geek Speaking of New Things</h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7zIUlmBkXWom8c9tQRXj4249tFVxF1570oKBO-DD-CEFM1GmSvnRUpQI_vs8vkPj-dzZeMgqFmWm5LRi7msDt40chWspkYV4blEyGe3ofo8ohg-QRUP8Zsj0O9v_xupZlEQs8Og/s1600/Whiz-pup+thumbnail.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7zIUlmBkXWom8c9tQRXj4249tFVxF1570oKBO-DD-CEFM1GmSvnRUpQI_vs8vkPj-dzZeMgqFmWm5LRi7msDt40chWspkYV4blEyGe3ofo8ohg-QRUP8Zsj0O9v_xupZlEQs8Og/s400/Whiz-pup+thumbnail.png" width="317" /></a></div>
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Looking for Geek Speak? Need the latest in what is happening with Ted and Wuffles? Want to see if I've posted a new strip based (albeit loosely) on my family life? I don't blame you. I'm a fan, too. But it's not here anymore. Oh no. Not here. It <i>moved</i>. In a long overdue upgrade to my comic hosting I am now posting Geek Speak on a fancy new website, on its own domain name. From this day forth you shall find Geek Speak Comics at this link: <a href="http://www.geekspeakcomic.com/">www.geekspeakcomic.com</a></div>
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I will still post here occasionally, but it will be reserved for posts that are more personal in nature, or when I want to post a gallery of recent sketches. </div>
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I have enjoyed posting on Blogger. This is where I got my start, and in many ways it feels like home, but my needs have long since outgrown the ability of Blogger to meet them. It is a bittersweet thing to change, but it's also an exciting new phase, and a big step. I'm going to leave it there before I rewrite my high school commencement speech. </div>
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<br />basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-91691482429893870652016-09-05T21:34:00.002-07:002016-09-05T21:34:50.565-07:00Geek Speaking About Anxiety Views<h3>
Geek Speak: Definitely NOT a Therapy Dog</h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaRLAprhr_UBSAQj2M-wyKvOliyK5OkujSiHqHrfSQ_QuogqV5v1WXMNFr7k5w40zF7et20oEAIuTR_dGurFhEoD-_3ZUpxWF4to1QOdlwFiO4u1WgqMVf47OSnDqeCCe4kmEOUA/s1600/GS_Neuter+Him_final.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaRLAprhr_UBSAQj2M-wyKvOliyK5OkujSiHqHrfSQ_QuogqV5v1WXMNFr7k5w40zF7et20oEAIuTR_dGurFhEoD-_3ZUpxWF4to1QOdlwFiO4u1WgqMVf47OSnDqeCCe4kmEOUA/s640/GS_Neuter+Him_final.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Ahhhhh...it feels good to post a comic strip again. You just never get tired of that fresh comic strip smell. Clearly Ted's brother is not making a new friend. Will they be freinemies, or will we enter comic strip thunderdome? Only time will tell. This strip is an example of one that changed considerably from the original script I wrote for it, to what I'm calling the finished strip above (there are things in it I could fix, but it's taken me too long to finish this as it is). The punch at the end was a lot longer, Francis saying "who's a pretty doggie..." is something that occurred to me as I was putting in the dialog and balloons. I think the result is better than my original design. Sometimes things work out that way. </div>
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I will be doing one more of these strips, and then things will be changing. For most of my posts and all of my comic strips after the last one in this series, I'll be moving to a new location on the web. More details soon, but this is a much needed, and long overdue change. </div>
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<h3>
Page-views, I Has Them</h3>
My tens of followers have generated a lot of page views. I'm actually fairly impressed. I post with less regularity than Phil Jackson who posts the usually brilliant and often hilarious <i>Sequential Art</i>. Yet I still seem to get people landing on my page. This makes me happy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaKCunwbjN8pV_FGJgGytWkdtfcZKUFGgEzQ-Yrp9AHO2U6h5B0yTtOpmRB7ZVAFgXYD2t7BQg98sAsoaxiAB5D36NgLF5JZuxTnQrSNjqSFebI_gmSFKh4uTB6vsVJhF8NJ7anQ/s1600/40k+page+views.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaKCunwbjN8pV_FGJgGytWkdtfcZKUFGgEzQ-Yrp9AHO2U6h5B0yTtOpmRB7ZVAFgXYD2t7BQg98sAsoaxiAB5D36NgLF5JZuxTnQrSNjqSFebI_gmSFKh4uTB6vsVJhF8NJ7anQ/s1600/40k+page+views.png" /></a></div>
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<h3>
The Anxiety Monster</h3>
In the last six months I have been to see doctors more than I have at any time in the last six years. It started back in April, with a feeling of having a racing heartbeat while waiting on a plane to fly home from Austin. While I was sitting there, feeling like my heart was hammering somewhere in the vicinity of my left eye it occurred to me that my phone comes with a health app, and that it might have a way for me to determine just how fast my heart was pounding. Sure enough the Samsung health app has a heart rate tracker, and I was able to measure my beats per minute. While I sat there on the tarmac waiting for my plane to be ready to taxi my beats per minute were coming in at 118. Thanks, Samsung.<br />
<br />
I started to freak out. Was this normal? What should my beats per minute be while I'm just sitting doing nothing? Should I be worried? These questions were whirling through my head while I had the dangerous combination of time to kill and access to the Internet via a mobile device. One Google search and I found numerous articles on the ideal resting heart rate for an adult male in his late thirties, and numerous more on tachycardia (fast heart). Now certain there was something terribly wrong (thanks, Google) I checked my heart rate again (thanks again Samsung) and, big shock here, my heart rate had jumped up to over 120 beats per minute. That's roughly where it should be after <i>moderate</i> exercise. Now certain I was dying, it was time for the plane to take off. Mercifully, I was able to settle down enough to sleep for a good chunk of the flight.<br />
<br />
When I got home the sense of something wrong didn't leave me. It gnawed at me, and one night sent me down a path that would have me visiting doctors every other week for the better part of four months. After work one night I was sitting with my kids and watching <i>My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic</i> when I got that feeling of my heart pounding again, and I used my handy-dandy Samsung App to check my heart rate (...thanks...Samsung). Sure enough it was registering over 100 beats per minute. What's more, I had a tingly numb feeling between my shoulder blades. Certain this meant I was somewhere on the grim reaper's to-do list I kissed my wife, hugged my kids, and made my way to the emergency room. I would spend the next several hours there while they ran blood tests, an EKG, took X-rays and monitored me, all while listening to people who were in <i>genuine</i> crisis, and generally feeling crummy. My heart rate came back down to reasonable territory (80-ish beats per minute) while I was waiting to be seen behind a long queue of people in various states of fucked up.<br />
<br />
Since that night in May I have been to see a cardiologist, my primary, a nurse-practitioner who works in my primary's office, my primary again, and am now seeing a physical therapist. I have been prescribed some <i>really</i> exotic drugs for GERD (acid reflux) and had an ultrasound that determined I have some infiltrating fat on my pancreas, but nothing to be alarmed about. Even so, I will occasionally find myself sitting at my desk at work feeling like my heart is pounding against my chest, which I continue to measure with the Samsung health app on my phone (fuck you, Samsung). I'll feel like my breath is coming just a little too short, and get to feeling amped up and distracted for no good reason.<br />
<br />
People who know me well, or have known me for a long time, will probably not find this surprising in the least, but I have been forced to confront the idea that I have issues with anxiety. Even as I write this the notion feels fundamentally just <i>so</i> <i>stupid</i>. My job can be stressful, sure, but it's a mundane kind of stress. It's "so-and-so executive is asking pointed questions about something on a report that can be interpreted a certain way if you turn it upside down and squint" kind of stress. I'm not facing armed combatants, pulling people over who might shoot me, or saving lives. If I screw something up at work, children won't starve on the other side of the world. Even so, it gets to me.<br />
<br />
When I stopped at some point to think about it, it occurred to me this is not an isolated event. Around the time my daughter was born I remember feeling like I was having chest pain. I went to urgent care to get checked out, then followed up with my primary. An EKG in both cases revealed nothing. Years before that, around my thirtieth birthday, was the same story. I felt like I was having chest pain so I made an appointment to see my doctor. On that occasion, too an EKG failed to turn anything up, but he referred me to a cardiologist just to be safe. They put me on a treadmill and checked out my heart and declared me, in these words, "ready for the marathon. See you again in fifteen years" Years before <i>THAT, </i>long before I had moved out of Greeley to live in Denver, never mind moving to California, I went to urgent care with "chest pain." On that occasion the doctor checked me out, then talked to me about anxiety, and wrote out a prescription for a very mild anti-anxiety medication, and left it up to me to fill it or not. <br />
<br />
As you have probably guessed, I didn't fill it. I didn't like the idea of managing my emotional condition through chemistry. I still don't. Now, however, I'm thinking if I had filled that prescription, and taken the extra step of going to therapy, I might have saved myself a world of grief. While I can't think of specific examples from before college, I'm sure there must have been times that the people who cared about me wished they could have talked me back from standing on a figurative ledge. Times I was convinced the world was ending because I didn't get the right grade on a piece of homework, or I was particularly uptight about a test that I was sure would ruin my future, or, as was often the case, I was so tied up in knots over a girl I liked that I didn't act at all out of fear of humiliation.<br />
<br />
Now, as I near forty, and I have stress factors in my life that I've never had before, and I have not dealt with the underlying condition, I find myself sometimes sitting at my desk wound up, jumping from one thing to another, terrified of letting anything go without my touching it every day lest I lose my job. In my mind unemployment raises the specter of family protective services coming to take my kids and place them into the nightmarish hellscape that is foster care. I get so amped up, in fact, that I often can't stay at my desk and focus, and I'm forced to get up and go walk until I can get my emotions under control and start to think clearly again. <br />
<br />
After months of doctor's visits the only consensus we've arrived at is that I have an issue with anxiety. To let things go as they are is not sustainable. I have to face the anxiety monster and, if not overcome it, at least fight it to a standstill. To do that might mean giving in and accepting a prescription for anti-anxiety medications. For now I'm working on exercising, enjoying my hobbies, and finding ways to quiet my mind. Talking about it openly is one step. For those who read this far, thanks for hanging in there. </div>
basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-3095212027797297972016-09-05T21:34:00.000-07:002016-09-05T21:34:25.761-07:00Geek Speaking About Anxiety Views<h3>
Geek Speak: Definitely NOT a Therapy Dog</h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaRLAprhr_UBSAQj2M-wyKvOliyK5OkujSiHqHrfSQ_QuogqV5v1WXMNFr7k5w40zF7et20oEAIuTR_dGurFhEoD-_3ZUpxWF4to1QOdlwFiO4u1WgqMVf47OSnDqeCCe4kmEOUA/s1600/GS_Neuter+Him_final.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaRLAprhr_UBSAQj2M-wyKvOliyK5OkujSiHqHrfSQ_QuogqV5v1WXMNFr7k5w40zF7et20oEAIuTR_dGurFhEoD-_3ZUpxWF4to1QOdlwFiO4u1WgqMVf47OSnDqeCCe4kmEOUA/s640/GS_Neuter+Him_final.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Ahhhhh...it feels good to post a comic strip again. You just never get tired of that fresh comic strip smell. Clearly Ted's brother is not making a new friend. Will they be freinemies, or will we enter comic strip thunderdome? Only time will tell. This strip is an example of one that changed considerably from the original script I wrote for it, to what I'm calling the finished strip above (there are things in it I could fix, but it's taken me too long to finish this as it is). The punch at the end was a lot longer, Francis saying "who's a pretty doggie..." is something that occurred to me as I was putting in the dialog and balloons. I think the result is better than my original design. Sometimes things work out that way. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I will be doing one more of these strips, and then things will be changing. For most of my posts and all of my comic strips after the last one in this series, I'll be moving to a new location on the web. More details soon, but this is a much needed, and long overdue change. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<h3>
Page-views, I Has Them</h3>
My tens of followers have generated a lot of page views. I'm actually fairly impressed. I post with less regularity than Phil Jackson who posts the usually brilliant and often hilarious <i>Sequential Art</i>. Yet I still seem to get people landing on my page. This makes me happy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaKCunwbjN8pV_FGJgGytWkdtfcZKUFGgEzQ-Yrp9AHO2U6h5B0yTtOpmRB7ZVAFgXYD2t7BQg98sAsoaxiAB5D36NgLF5JZuxTnQrSNjqSFebI_gmSFKh4uTB6vsVJhF8NJ7anQ/s1600/40k+page+views.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaKCunwbjN8pV_FGJgGytWkdtfcZKUFGgEzQ-Yrp9AHO2U6h5B0yTtOpmRB7ZVAFgXYD2t7BQg98sAsoaxiAB5D36NgLF5JZuxTnQrSNjqSFebI_gmSFKh4uTB6vsVJhF8NJ7anQ/s1600/40k+page+views.png" /></a></div>
<br />
<h3>
The Anxiety Monster</h3>
In the last six months I have been to see doctors more than I have at any time in the last six years. It started back in April, with a feeling of having a racing heartbeat while waiting on a plane to fly home from Austin. While I was sitting there, feeling like my heart was hammering somewhere in the vicinity of my left eye it occurred to me that my phone comes with a health app, and that it might have a way for me to determine just how fast my heart was pounding. Sure enough the Samsung health app has a heart rate tracker, and I was able to measure my beats per minute. While I sat there on the tarmac waiting for my plane to be ready to taxi my beats per minute were coming in at 118. Thanks, Samsung.<br />
<br />
I started to freak out. Was this normal? What should my beats per minute be while I'm just sitting doing nothing? Should I be worried? These questions were whirling through my head while I had the dangerous combination of time to kill and access to the Internet via a mobile device. One Google search and I found numerous articles on the ideal resting heart rate for an adult male in his late thirties, and numerous more on tachycardia (fast heart). Now certain there was something terribly wrong (thanks, Google) I checked my heart rate again (thanks again Samsung) and, big shock here, my heart rate had jumped up to over 120 beats per minute. That's roughly where it should be after <i>moderate</i> exercise. Now certain I was dying, it was time for the plane to take off. Mercifully, I was able to settle down enough to sleep for a good chunk of the flight.<br />
<br />
When I got home the sense of something wrong didn't leave me. It gnawed at me, and one night sent me down a path that would have me visiting doctors every other week for the better part of four months. After work one night I was sitting with my kids and watching <i>My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic</i> when I got that feeling of my heart pounding again, and I used my handy-dandy Samsung App to check my heart rate (...thanks...Samsung). Sure enough it was registering over 100 beats per minute. What's more, I had a tingly numb feeling between my shoulder blades. Certain this meant I was somewhere on the grim reaper's to-do list I kissed my wife, hugged my kids, and made my way to the emergency room. I would spend the next several hours there while they ran blood tests, an EKG, took X-rays and monitored me, all while listening to people who were in <i>genuine</i> crisis, and generally feeling crummy. My heart rate came back down to reasonable territory (80-ish beats per minute) while I was waiting to be seen behind a long queue of people in various states of fucked up.<br />
<br />
Since that night in May I have been to see a cardiologist, my primary, a nurse-practitioner who works in my primary's office, my primary again, and am now seeing a physical therapist. I have been prescribed some <i>really</i> exotic drugs for GERD (acid reflux) and had an ultrasound that determined I have some infiltrating fat on my pancreas, but nothing to be alarmed about. Even so, I will occasionally find myself sitting at my desk at work feeling like my heart is pounding against my chest, which I continue to measure with the Samsung health app on my phone (fuck you, Samsung). I'll feel like my breath is coming just a little too short, and get to feeling amped up and distracted for no good reason.<br />
<br />
People who know me well, or have known me for a long time, will probably not find this surprising in the least, but I have been forced to confront the idea that I have issues with anxiety. Even as I write this the notion feels fundamentally just <i>so</i> <i>stupid</i>. My job can be stressful, sure, but it's a mundane kind of stress. It's "so-and-so executive is asking pointed questions about something on a report that can be interpreted a certain way if you turn it upside down and squint" kind of stress. I'm not facing armed combatants, pulling people over who might shoot me, or saving lives. If I screw something up at work, children won't starve on the other side of the world. Even so, it gets to me.<br />
<br />
When I stopped at some point to think about it, it occurred to me this is not an isolated event. Around the time my daughter was born I remember feeling like I was having chest pain. I went to urgent care to get checked out, then followed up with my primary. An EKG in both cases revealed nothing. Years before that, around my thirtieth birthday, was the same story. I felt like I was having chest pain so I made an appointment to see my doctor. On that occasion, too an EKG failed to turn anything up, but he referred me to a cardiologist just to be safe. They put me on a treadmill and checked out my heart and declared me, in these words, "ready for the marathon. See you again in fifteen years" Years before <i>THAT, </i>long before I had moved out of Greeley to live in Denver, never mind moving to California, I went to urgent care with "chest pain." On that occasion the doctor checked me out, then talked to me about anxiety, and wrote out a prescription for a very mild anti-anxiety medication, and left it up to me to fill it or not. <br />
<br />
As you have probably guessed, I didn't fill it. I didn't like the idea of managing my emotional condition through chemistry. I still don't. Now, however, I'm thinking if I had filled that prescription, and taken the extra step of going to therapy, I might have saved myself a world of grief. While I can't think of specific examples from before college, I'm sure there must have been times that the people who cared about me wished they could have talked me back from standing on a figurative ledge. Times I was convinced the world was ending because I didn't get the right grade on a piece of homework, or I was particularly uptight about a test that I was sure would ruin my future, or, as was often the case, I was so tied up in knots over a girl I liked that I didn't act at all out of fear of humiliation.<br />
<br />
Now, as I near forty, and I have stress factors in my life that I've never had before, and I have not dealt with the underlying condition, I find myself sometimes sitting at my desk wound up, jumping from one thing to another, terrified of letting anything go without my touching it every day lest I lose my job. In my mind unemployment raises the specter of family protective services coming to take my kids and place them into the nightmarish hellscape that is foster care. I get so amped up, in fact, that I often can't stay at my desk and focus, and I'm forced to get up and go walk until I can get my emotions under control and start to think clearly again. <br />
<br />
After months of doctor's visits the only consensus we've arrived at is that I have an issue with anxiety. To let things go as they are is not sustainable. I have to face the anxiety monster and, if not overcome it, at least fight it to a standstill. To do that might mean giving in and accepting a prescription for anti-anxiety medications. For now I'm working on exercising, enjoying my hobbies, and finding ways to quiet my mind. Talking about it openly is one step. For those who read this far, thanks for hanging in there. </div>
basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-57790827927922735592016-08-22T01:00:00.000-07:002016-08-22T01:00:03.598-07:00Return of Normal Guy<br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Return of the Blog Post!</span></h3>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So, this post has been a long time in coming. I looked back at my most recent post to see just how lax I've been in trying to create content for my tens of readers, and I was a little taken aback by how much time has passed. It really doesn't feel like it's been since May, but it has. It's been a busy three months, while at the same time I feel as though I've really done very little at all. Either way, here are some of the highlights.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Doctors, doctors, everywhere, and not a thing to treat</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Let's not be alarmest, but I have been to see doctors more in the last six months than the last six years combined. I have more visits coming up, unfortunately, but hopefully getting to the end of this semi-regularly occurring health freak-out. The outcome from all of this, so far there is nothing wrong with me. An ultrasound found a little infiltrating fat on my pancreas, but that's a benign condition, and there's been more than a little talk about GERD (acid reflux disease). Mostly the talk has been about managing my anxiety, but otherwise I'm in good health. Like I said, more on this in a later post. I will be providing a comic to go with it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Fathers day happened</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Went out on Father's Day to see <i>Captain America: Civil War</i> and loved it. When I got home the family had made a bunch of cards and hidden them around the house for me to find. Later that night we had one of the three steak dinners I get each year. It was a great day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>My wife and I turned sixteen all over again...</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">...just without all the teenage mutant ninja drama and other bullshit that goes with actually being sixteen. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">On July fifteenth my wife and I celebrated sixteen years of marriage. The time flies. It really does. I am lucky that for the last sixteen years (nineteen if you count the three years we dated) I have had someone very special with me on the out of control, full throttle, runaway train that is life. It is with <a href="http://sunlightinmythreshold.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Mildly Sensational</a> that I do something really important, and that I might not do otherwise. It's with her that I can be <i>still</i>. It's with her that I slow down enough to actually make memories. She grounds me, even as she, and the family we've made, give me purpose. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am not always the best at staying still. Even if it looks like I'm being quiet and still, I'm thinking about things I need to be doing, that I want to be doing, that I should be doing and that will probably cause me grief at some point in the foreseeable future, and it goes on like that. It is with Mildly Sensational that I can let some of that go, that I can start to undo some of the knots I've tied myself into during the day. She brings me peace, and with her I'm truly home. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thank you, Mildly Sensational, for being my home. I love you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Lots of Little Art Dumps</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">While I don't have a completed comic strip ready to share, that does not mean I haven't been busily toiling over my sketchbook, painstaking producing achingly beautiful works of art for you, my handfuls of readers (hi, Mom!). Or, if I'm being less dramatic, here are some of my drawings presented in smaller art dumps while I get some comics put together. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Here's one that is fairly timely. <i>Suicide Squad</i> opened recently and re-introduced Harley to people who have been fans of the character for more than twenty years. While <a href="http://images-cdn.moviepilot.com/images/c_fill,h_509,w_700/t_mp_quality/f37s3beiqxzo8urlntj8/margot-robbie-s-harley-quinn-gets-all-dolled-up-in-must-see-fan-made-portrait-392316.jpg" target="_blank">Margot Robbie looks </a><i><a href="http://images-cdn.moviepilot.com/images/c_fill,h_509,w_700/t_mp_quality/f37s3beiqxzo8urlntj8/margot-robbie-s-harley-quinn-gets-all-dolled-up-in-must-see-fan-made-portrait-392316.jpg" target="_blank">great</a> </i>as Harley Quinn...she just isn't <i>my </i>Harley. Is it fair to her, or fair to what sounds like a great performance as a villain turned anti-hero in what otherwise sounds like a <a href="http://leonardmaltin.com/suicide-squad-kill-me-now/" target="_blank">terrible movie</a>? No. It's not fair to Ms. Robbie, but my Harley will always be Harley from <i>Batman: the Animated Series.</i> For the record, yes, I'm aware that, in the series, Harley wore a full body costume including the hat. I've drawn the full costume before. I took a bit of license drawing her this time. </span></div>
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For the next nugget in my art dump, I bring you Shiro from the excellent Netflix series <i>Voltron: Legendary Defender. </i>The re-imagined Voltron manages to hit all the right nostalgia buttons, while turning in something that really improves on the original. Disagree with me? If you're nearing forty and reading this, go back and watch any cartoon from the eighties that you loved. I would be surprised if you made it through more than one or two episodes before you had to watch something else. They don't stand up, and, for the most part, they could all use an update. Voltron hits all the right notes blending action, comedy, and drama with genuine kid-level cartoon slapstick. Although I drew Shiro before anyone else, I think Hunk is my favorite character. The actor providing the voice nails it. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyhs3ibfN12iVZpn8uP2WvD2n2ZwCRZkH6CQn7IKQq2PoZhE2NxwgsGnsHWCBAuMTfhuaQ7nFQZnFXeo5Gp2LO4ckZJDRJ0j7LaIZHkWiU4UVVlw6_HAjb7lZAG6EIrumDpZryCg/s1600/Shiro_resized.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyhs3ibfN12iVZpn8uP2WvD2n2ZwCRZkH6CQn7IKQq2PoZhE2NxwgsGnsHWCBAuMTfhuaQ7nFQZnFXeo5Gp2LO4ckZJDRJ0j7LaIZHkWiU4UVVlw6_HAjb7lZAG6EIrumDpZryCg/s320/Shiro_resized.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I am, for the most part, an Image and Marvel comics fan. I never really got into DC characters, mostly because Marvel characters are all human, at some level. DC's roster of characters is a who's - who of <a href="http://pre05.deviantart.net/ce74/th/pre/f/2013/352/f/f/because_batman__duuh__by_nebezial-d6ydrqi.jpg" target="_blank">insufferable Mary Sues</a>. For the most part it turns me off to their comics. The exception to that appears to be Green Lantern. Don't get me wrong, Hal Jordan is an insufferable douche, but there's something really compelling about a character who goes out into the universe to defend innocent billions who will never know about his sacrifice, and his only weapon is the power of will channeled through a ring. I was on board with that, and then they introduced the <i>blue lanterns</i> and rings powered by HOPE, and I couldn't stay away. It was fun here to imagine Elsa as a blue lantern. Here is a character for whom hope would be a survival trait. She has to have hope to imagine a better tomorrow for herself and her kingdom. I'll be doing Anna as a star sapphire at some point. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX7L5Asbgv1BvGw70C2SQGuX-RhUEIWGcdcIV9Lc1JxXfR1tsFQQSCVc2KeU4bzd9aON5x7bnPVC4hQs2jDCm0RP1nsN5Vme3YC_u-kJetQsqCemQy8cC8elvKQRVj2yGMdv9ouQ/s1600/Blue+Lanter+Elsa_colored.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX7L5Asbgv1BvGw70C2SQGuX-RhUEIWGcdcIV9Lc1JxXfR1tsFQQSCVc2KeU4bzd9aON5x7bnPVC4hQs2jDCm0RP1nsN5Vme3YC_u-kJetQsqCemQy8cC8elvKQRVj2yGMdv9ouQ/s400/Blue+Lanter+Elsa_colored.jpg" width="251" /></a></div>
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Lastly, I can't resist closing with a one-off joke comic. I drew this after doing a late night doodle of a Spider-Man cosplayer. I really like Spider-Man. It's not my favorite comic of all time (that distinction belongs to <i>The Savage Dragon</i>), but it's right up there. At almost forty, however, I think my days of jumping on the table in an ill-fitting Spidey mask and thwipping are almost over. If nothing else, it's something my kids could imitate, and we have a hard enough time telling them to stay off the coffee table as it is. </div>
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basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-56013881208144446122016-05-19T23:36:00.000-07:002016-05-19T23:36:05.081-07:00Geek Speaking of Random Sketch Dumping<h3>
Geek Speak: Wuffles is one-eighth French poodle</h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfM_K2foUkcu5gLVvuCasQfrKX6_fMb9kdFKES_0jbJdkofTvKvARLpfhN_xO-wlMzow_ma4Z2leTDfKcEOR92zXMcu7kOr0NoxJ_Bh0V-dnhU9NupwLIlcnVFVeo-chcl_hXE8g/s1600/GS_Je+t-accuse_finished.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfM_K2foUkcu5gLVvuCasQfrKX6_fMb9kdFKES_0jbJdkofTvKvARLpfhN_xO-wlMzow_ma4Z2leTDfKcEOR92zXMcu7kOr0NoxJ_Bh0V-dnhU9NupwLIlcnVFVeo-chcl_hXE8g/s640/GS_Je+t-accuse_finished.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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It took me a <a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f4/Analog_clock_animation.gif" target="_blank">long time</a> to finish this comic. In the time between my last strip and this I have been to multiple birthdays for five-year-olds, a birthday for a thirty-nine year old (mine), and on a work trip to Austin, Texas. I have indeed been busy. In that time I have learned two things:</div>
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<li>February to May is far too long to be away.</li>
<li>I really miss drawing comics</li>
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It's not as though my drawing hand has been lonely and neglected. It has been firmly wrapped around a hard wooden pencil and stroking away. It just hasn't been to produce comic strips. There was probably a better way to say that. Moving on. I think there may be one or two more strips in this run just to establish the relationship between Ted and Wuffles, then I'm going to do some one-offs, then maybe return to Sam, Mark, and Steve for a little bit before coming back to Ted and Wuffles. We'll see. For those who are following me, please know that I haven't given up. My focus has been elsewhere for a little bit, but I'm trying to get back in the swing of things now. </div>
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Besides, if I don't keep posting comic strips, how am I supposed to get into Comic Con next year? Priorities. One must have priorities. </div>
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Random Thoughts</h3>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lost-Ocean-Adventure-Coloring-Adults/dp/0143108999/ref=sr_1_11?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1463725378&sr=1-11" target="_blank">Adult coloring books</a> are awesome. By that I mean coloring books for grown ups not badly drawn sex acts for perverts to fill in with crayons. I bought one full of intricate animal and floral designs for my wife for Christmas, then recently bought two copies of the <i>Doctor Who </i>adult coloring book, so both of us could enjoy it. I may write more on this later, but for now, let's leave it at "coloring books for grown ups are awesome."</div>
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A Big Satisfying Sketch Dump</h3>
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While I haven't been as dedicated to drawing comic strips as I would like, I have still been drawing. In fact I had to switch to a new sketchbook at some point between my last post and this. Here are a few of my favorites. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRMjcMGFYU3vong9cIqYWf6D3B0hnAdplQz96dNJmwMnqLWp0Ob4vD5XknTYS7xkrvO9aJRZIXyNPzaEH_Vhg0nC4EnBOA-aiAomrb8-4haoCV50vgtAlGxtszlbeFssejq10faA/s1600/Belle+Musketeer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRMjcMGFYU3vong9cIqYWf6D3B0hnAdplQz96dNJmwMnqLWp0Ob4vD5XknTYS7xkrvO9aJRZIXyNPzaEH_Vhg0nC4EnBOA-aiAomrb8-4haoCV50vgtAlGxtszlbeFssejq10faA/s400/Belle+Musketeer.jpg" width="327" /></a></div>
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The idea behind this one was to imagine what happens to Belle after the end of Disney's <i>Beauty and the Beast. </i>It's hard to imagine that her desire for adventure just goes away after the end of the movie, and in 16th century France it's hard to imagine anyone more adventurous than the Musketeers. Since she is a <b>Disney</b> princess, would that technically make her a "Mouseketeer?" </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqsPKYjmOmlmmagFSEm1P4SQKhxGxfRwREs-Xrn0lcrN0XnvuIQ-TzovqrslBDWmNe3o_llxle82oPGi4p7Km3evdBKCDZYdHewtIqC6h4J81ySCaYlDqr33GTIVo2OYd9H87v0g/s1600/Aladdin+and+Ziggy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqsPKYjmOmlmmagFSEm1P4SQKhxGxfRwREs-Xrn0lcrN0XnvuIQ-TzovqrslBDWmNe3o_llxle82oPGi4p7Km3evdBKCDZYdHewtIqC6h4J81ySCaYlDqr33GTIVo2OYd9H87v0g/s320/Aladdin+and+Ziggy.jpg" width="241" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCgm1JGtGT5fGgx0NVAeaGv_qO3QoZfFUDet2e08JMjicsZsYfPGxdmTQl_zr4B75f3KLSF6PLjmflJHKGjDgSul5-N-5KMylkcJjEs-Sc03QSJDSHQq_RVGOFT5xLV7gGY_XYmg/s1600/Thin+white+duke+03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCgm1JGtGT5fGgx0NVAeaGv_qO3QoZfFUDet2e08JMjicsZsYfPGxdmTQl_zr4B75f3KLSF6PLjmflJHKGjDgSul5-N-5KMylkcJjEs-Sc03QSJDSHQq_RVGOFT5xLV7gGY_XYmg/s320/Thin+white+duke+03.jpg" width="227" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnhAsxhrGmD0wsUKD6LMbkINlmLikbJYUFg7dqnQbu-9c7ZWq7Mq_gJ7fnT4QvANoUIx8ukO_8FCyt079Qj0mRxWi5ECMAGEq9amDwnhJJnYWU8ACTa60L_lJUCvll5meh64_1mQ/s1600/Ziggy+Stardust+01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnhAsxhrGmD0wsUKD6LMbkINlmLikbJYUFg7dqnQbu-9c7ZWq7Mq_gJ7fnT4QvANoUIx8ukO_8FCyt079Qj0mRxWi5ECMAGEq9amDwnhJJnYWU8ACTa60L_lJUCvll5meh64_1mQ/s320/Ziggy+Stardust+01.jpg" width="237" /></a></div>
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Sometime in mid-February I attended the excellent "Valley Drink and Draw" hosted by the one and only <a href="http://gallerygirls.org/" target="_blank">Gallery Girls</a>. The theme of the evening was a tribute to the late David Bowie, and two models dressed as his most iconic characters, from Aladdin Sane to Ziggy Stardust. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtLk_AZQbpVDCpWvxNl_DXmeu3Y5gWmlWai7tMSDYeFRZMF0GTRXaLImo8oK7z5flM3QLU4s-nI_vmXv7c9o5CUb0j1NJN2gkPB8duiW7_IGFz8KTyJ0kfULuUhyphenhyphenqT8AbAr1DYlA/s1600/Suess+Tech_did+not+validate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtLk_AZQbpVDCpWvxNl_DXmeu3Y5gWmlWai7tMSDYeFRZMF0GTRXaLImo8oK7z5flM3QLU4s-nI_vmXv7c9o5CUb0j1NJN2gkPB8duiW7_IGFz8KTyJ0kfULuUhyphenhyphenqT8AbAr1DYlA/s400/Suess+Tech_did+not+validate.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Some early character designs for a project I started working on with Runs Long Talking. I had to set this aside during March and April, partly because most of my drawing time was spent working on illustrations for a business presentation I gave in Austin. Now that I'm through the big business meeting and done with one or two other things I plan to get back to working on this. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0fDutpu_GLV0n3G0pakmlVUKL0D0XSAQxAlmxqWt70-ZrmXz6_3rY3LHUio6oMTUR2vz35v7pdCYhTP8Ivf_fjHlkXo8miaS7vX-wpG03R0yhnYdc-lEt0AoImubY9ybCl_Fjwg/s1600/BB_8+on+the+run.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0fDutpu_GLV0n3G0pakmlVUKL0D0XSAQxAlmxqWt70-ZrmXz6_3rY3LHUio6oMTUR2vz35v7pdCYhTP8Ivf_fjHlkXo8miaS7vX-wpG03R0yhnYdc-lEt0AoImubY9ybCl_Fjwg/s400/BB_8+on+the+run.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I drew this one because...well...<a href="http://www.kidzcoolit.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/Bladez-bb8-3.jpg" target="_blank">who doesn't love BB-8</a>? Seriously. Can you think of anyone?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8aJIXM552Gm5ehJ8lXvsmV-YyPFZpX0HuioT2tAw0bHlFeJfw7OGoto9uDsn_dBhW8fF0llD29sNgWvHn6-8q7nm-bCJP4KzkBK9aVpB9Z9uvvsUiHK4BWbmq3FhthpmsUHd6hg/s1600/Assassins+Creed+Ancient+China.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8aJIXM552Gm5ehJ8lXvsmV-YyPFZpX0HuioT2tAw0bHlFeJfw7OGoto9uDsn_dBhW8fF0llD29sNgWvHn6-8q7nm-bCJP4KzkBK9aVpB9Z9uvvsUiHK4BWbmq3FhthpmsUHd6hg/s400/Assassins+Creed+Ancient+China.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Before February or March I had been playing <i>a lot</i> of <i>Assassin's Creed II</i>. There is something weirdly gratifying about playing a video game where a character can climbs to the top of tall buildings, leaps off, and survives by landing in hay bales, or carts full of flowers. It is a strangely liberating thing to do, and one reason why I come back to these games. </div>
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basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-1387406723629928932016-02-17T01:00:00.000-08:002016-02-17T01:00:00.179-08:00Geek Speaking of Iron Brain Fortresses<h3>
Geek Speak: Too Funny</h3>
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I was having trouble condensing this into three panels. After several fraught frustrating fruitless hours spent writing, deleting, re-writing, editing, scrapping, and weeping softly in a corner I gave up and just made it four panels. The difficulty there is in how to do it without making it <i><a href="http://dinosaurtrainfans.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/dinosaur-train.jpg" target="_blank">tiny</a></i>. On this one I did better than some previous attempts, but it's still not quite there. My apologies to your eyes, and give your optometrist a big hug from me.<br />
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When I originally thought of this exchange my intention was to go back to the scene of the<a href="http://adventuresofnormalguy.blogspot.com/2013/08/geek-speaking-on-heroics-of-miraculous.html" target="_blank"> ill-fated rescue</a> of Wuffles' original owner. In that scene I imagined an ambulance and two paramedics with a stretch already covered in a black body bag talking about the best way to scrape the old woman off the wall. While they're talking she pulls one hand free from the bricks that were shattered by her impact. They stop talking. She pull the other hand free, pushes herself away from the wall, dusts herself off, tells the paramedics to close their mouths before flies get in there, then asks if anyone has seen her dog. The last panel would be some big dramatic special effects text saying something like "Thus Began the Amazing Adventures of The Iron Granny!" or something equally sophomoric.<br />
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It's been so long now since those original strips that going back and resurrecting granny doesn't feel like it works. So we'll leave her fate without the closure it deserves as we move on with the adventures of Ted, Wuffles, Frances (Captain Dum Dum), Sam, Mark, Steve, Cowboy, Hipster, Normal Guy and the rest.<br />
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<h3>
Cognitive Retreats</h3>
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Every so often, if I can find a space of time that isn't filled with work of one kind or another I like to close my eyes and try to clear my thoughts. At the very least I like to shut my eyes, <a href="https://s3.amazonaws.com/lowres.cartoonstock.com/medical-x_ray-xray-brain-x_ray-brainless-lcan494_low.jpg" target="_blank">empty my mind</a> of whatever has been occupying it, and just let my mind wander over whatever just pops in there. The Stay Puff'd marshmallow man has yet to make an appearance, but I know it's juts a matter of time. In a riff on the most recent <a href="http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/jenks1983/20985952/8110/original.jpg" target="_blank">Sherlock Holmes</a> I think of this as going to my "mind sanctuary." Everyone has one. I just gave mine a name. Because my inner thirteen year old is irresistible, apparently. </div>
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My mind sanctuary has evolved over time. When I started trying to build a mental quiet place I painstakingly imagined a mountain forest next to a stream with a gentle waterfall. No pounding torrents of water, just a gentle fall producing a soothing, consistent sound of water pouring over rocks into more water. The effort of trying to maintain the image in my head, complete with smells, the feel of the wind, the sound of the water, and the movement of the trees, was way too much effort and really defeated the original purpose. Kind of like trying to find a quiet room to take a nap, then drowning out office noise by moving in a bunch of speakers, picking a metal station on Pandora and blasting it at a volume usually reserved for concert venues.<br />
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In the last couple of weeks I've gone the opposite direction. I've created a mental fortress of solitude that is a plain white floor, walls, and ceiling. It has worked wonders. It is substantially easier for me to fall asleep in my mind sanctuary, and when I get a moment to, for lack of a better word, meditate I find myself walking away feeling revitalized. Everyone should have their own version of a mental fortress of solitude they can retreat into for a few minutes. Seriously, try it, it costs nothing, and I'd bet my dear Aunt Suzy's pet badger that you feel better after. </div>
basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-76972485781800578722015-11-12T20:58:00.001-08:002015-11-12T20:58:47.734-08:00Geek Speaking of Geres of Snore<h3>
<b>Geek Speak: Nowhere to Go, Man!</b></h3>
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It occurred to me as I was writing this joke that I was probably writing something that would be understandable to most people in my generation, and certainly to anyone reading this who comes from my parent's generation. For anyone who hasn't seen the movie, there's this great scene in the where the drill instructor, played brilliantly by Louis Gossett Jr., is trying to force Richard Gere to quit, to wash out of Aviation Officer Candidate School. Gere is being put through a brutal series of physical exercises while Gossett berates and abuses him. The moment the strip refers to is the moment wherein Gere is doing a torturous number of sit ups while Gossett sprays him with a hose and tries to verbally abuse him into quitting. Gere's character breaks, and in a performance that can only be described as wrenching, he sobs, "I got nowhere else to go." When I think of great performances in film, my mind often goes to that moment. There is so much going on in that scene, that relationship is so complex, and the actors playing those parts are so amazing that I could watch it a dozen times and get something different from it each time.<br />
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Naturally my tribute to that moment of cinematic brilliance involves a talking dog a shirtless nerd.<br />
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Seriously, Louis Gossett, Jr. is something to behold in that film. He absolutely had earned it when the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor went to him, that and then some.<br />
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<h3>
What Was I Planning to Do Later Again? </h3>
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All of us grew up listening to the adages and proverbs of our parents. One my parents were fond of was, "don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today." As I was mulling over what to write in this blog post I had some fun flipping that around, "don't do today, what you can put off until tomorrow." </div>
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Procrastinators of the world unite...eventually!</div>
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It sounded like a cute idea for a random thought, but then I examined it, which (by the way) is an exercise you should avoid at all costs. Examination is the death of humor. Anyway, there's a kernel of wisdom in there; a little nugget of truth. Most of us have deadlines of one kind or another. In our day to day working lives there is some objective, some end point we have to reach. It can be stressful, and the natural response to stay as long as it takes to get the job done. The thing is, in most cases, not everything absolutely <i>has</i> to be done <i>right this damn minute</i>. When you've done all you can for a day what you really need to do, and I'm sure somewhere my dad's ghost is shaking his head at me, but what you really need to do is just walk away. Leave it for another day. It's surprising really. No matter how critical something might seem at 5:30PM Tuesday night, leave it. Go home. Have dinner. Play with your kids and get a good night's rest. When you get back to work in the morning, it will still be there, and you'll <i>have the whole day to work on it. </i></div>
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No one said it better than Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Finish each day, and be done with it. You have done what you could."</div>
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basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-78851207725915566292015-10-15T21:45:00.002-07:002015-10-15T21:45:34.623-07:00Geek Speaking of Showering Hard Drive Failures<h3>
Geek Speak: Downton Puppy</h3>
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I gave myself a bit of a break...not a break from drawing the comic, but we'll get to that, a break from having to draw that fucking tutu. The idea of a dog in a tutu who communicates with a human is still funny to me, but I am really looking forward to the day that Wuffles takes the thing off.<br />
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To the guys out there, have you ever gone to the bathroom at work and had someone you work with take the next spot and start talking to you? I hate that. It's a bit of a pet peeve, really. When I'm in the bathroom I'm there to do one thing. I'm on a mission. Get in. Get done. Get out. I'm not there to discuss a project, talk about your weekend, or chat about how fucking amazing your new car is. Every so often I'll hear a guy doing his business in a stall next to me while talking on the phone. Seriously? Whatever it is you're talking about can't wait five goddamn minutes? Pro tip: don't call me if you're using the bathroom at the same time. I <i>will </i>hang up on you.<br />
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I have to imagine it's similarly awkward when someone's trying to talk with you while you're in the shower .You're trying to enjoy one of life's greatest little pleasures and someone outside is trying to get you to make decisions about something. Here's a decision. I'm going to finish my shower. It will take five minutes, another five for me to be presentable again. Go outside and wait for me. Play <i>Angry Birds,</i> just leave me the hell alone when I'm doing something in the bathroom.<br />
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The shower rule doesn't apply to spouses. In most cases if my wife starts a conversation with me while I'm in the shower my thought process is something along the lines of, "how do I get her in here with me."<br />
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There are exceptions to everything.<br />
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<h3>
Taking a Break, a Computer Break, 'Cause my Computer Broke</h3>
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So I did end up taking a longer break from the strip than I would have liked. Sorry about that. I'll lay out the whole calamitous saga here. </div>
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Microsoft recently did something with Windows that is unprecedented in its history. Truly, they arrived at a new milestone. They offered a free upgrade to Windows 10 to people already running Windows 7 or Windows 8. Awesome. That's how it should be. If you already have the operating system you <i>should</i> be able to upgrade to the latest operating system without paying some bullshit arbitrary premium (I'm looking at you, Apple). Under most circumstances I'm a Microsoft skeptic. They've had a couple of big winners like Windows 7. It's great. It's stable. It make sense, and it doesn't get in its own way trying to do everything for you. Microsoft has also had some serious turkeys like Windows ME, Windows Vista, and Microsoft Bob (which wasn't very useful, but was kind of cute). </div>
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Windows 10 was different. It had undergone a rigorous beta period. It was built out of the mistakes of Windows 8 (what do you mean you're doing away with the "start" button?). It was taking design cues from other modern operating systems that were starting to steal its lunch money. I signed up to be one of the first in line to get the update, and installed it as soon as it was available for me. </div>
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I made a huge mistake.</div>
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Windows 10 gave me nothing but trouble after it was installed. The first sign of trouble was it wouldn't let me use my usual Microsoft account credentials. It would only accept one of my other Microsoft accounts, which I entered without thinking anything of it and without trying to force it to take the one I actually use. Clearly I had not done enough homework. OneDrive is heavily integrated into the Windows 10 experience, and using the wrong credentials meant I had to figure out a way to <i>force </i>Microsoft to sync OneDrive, and everything else in Windows 10 that's driven by your Microsoft Account, with the account I actually use. </div>
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That was child's play. It gets better.</div>
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The next bit of Microsoft fuckery was when I tried to open one of my files to edit the contents only to be told that I didn't have permission. To be clear. Microsoft was not letting me save a file I created because it was in read-only mode and I didn't have <i>permission</i> to make changes. Thus began a quest to recover my lost permissions and thereby save my computer from an abrupt end after a short but exciting trip off the top of a tall building. There was nothing, and I mean <i>nothing, </i>even remotely helpful on any of Microsoft's resources. I eventually found the answer on a CNET forum buried under a bunch of bloated, Cheetos-fingered assholes geek-shaming people coming to the forum for solutions.</div>
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It was a seriously arcane process of sharing it with myself and then applying permissions across the whole folder.</div>
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Now that I was able to actually open and save my files it was time to get down to work and start drawing some cartoons right? That's what I thought, too. </div>
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When I powered up Autodesk Sketchbook Pro to start the rendering work on the comic strip you see above, I discovered Microsoft had given me yet another gift-wrapped package of dogshit. The cross-hairs used to guide the brush on screen were offset by three or four pixels. You'd think that would be something you could learn to compensate for, right. Again, that's what I thought! No! You can't compensate for that shit! It's not consistent. The cross-hairs would be offset by a pixel or three going top to bottom, almost completely aligned when drawing down and to the left, and <i>way the fuck out of whack</i> when drawing down and to the right. You would have to constantly be adjusting for an offset of between three and up to something like eight or ten pixels. There may be some mathematical genius freak of nature who can do that on the fly. I am not a freak of nature. </div>
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So I started looking for alternatives. I found a good one in a piece of software I had tried so long ago I'd almost forgotten about it. The open source drawing and painting program, Gimp. It got me limping along and I was making some progress when I got yet another little turd flavored treat. One night, after wrestling with Gimp and making slow, but discernible progress I went to turn off my computer only to have it go "click" and then shut off. </div>
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"Huh," I thought tiredly, "that's weird." It had been a long day of pushing boulders up hills only to be nearly crushed as they overcame me and rolled downhill, forcing me to start all over again. As per my usual I probably already had a small glass of bourbon or two in me, and I was in no mood to be troubleshooting my home rig. </div>
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The next day I got home and I went to power up my computer and it turned on, but loaded a black screen with white text bearing the words of my near-undoing "disc read error." That basically means your hard drive is in great shape to get you a few bucks at the nearest recycling center, and not much else. I tried a few different things but none of them worked. The hard drive was, as they say in the biz, kaput. </div>
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To understand the true scope of what this means to me. Imagine you could turn your dreams and aspirations into a fluid; a pretty, pearlescent liquid substance that catches the light and throws the beauty of your best self in rainbows across the room. </div>
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You put that in a glass pitcher so you can put it where it will catch the best light. </div>
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Then you accidentally drop the pitcher. It breaks and you watch your dreams spread across the floor in an unrecoverable mess. </div>
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That's kind of what it felt like.</div>
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At the top of the list of things at risk with a hard drive failure on this computer are thousands and thousands of photos of my kids taken by wife, pretty much starting with the day we brought our daughter home. </div>
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Then there is every comic strip I have ever drawn, plus hundreds of other sketches and drawings. For the most part I have all of those in hard copy, so they're recoverable, even if it would be a huge undertaking. </div>
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Then many, many things either I've written or my wife has written that we would never get back.</div>
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The story has a happy ending. After a few weeks I was able to buy a new hard drive and an adapter that would allow me to connect the old, defunct hard drive to the computer by USB. I installed the new hard drive and reinstalled good old, stable, dependable Windows 7. Then the moment of truth. I hooked up the adapter to the old hard drive and connected it by USB to the computer. I heard it spin, and Windows 7, good old Windows 7, picked it up as an external drive and I was able to find and recover <i>everything</i>. There was still some work to do to make sure I had permission to open the files, but once I'd given ownership to the new device everything was golden.</div>
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I even downloaded a trial version of Autodesk Sketchbook Pro. It will cost twenty five dollars a year to keep it, but it got me back to being productive again. </div>
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Lesson learned. As soon as I get paid again I'm paying for backblaze.com to back up my files. </div>
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I also discovered a couple of solid, free drawing programs, Gimp (technically I <i>rediscovered</i> Gimp, but whatever) and <a href="https://krita.org/" target="_blank">Krita</a>. Both are seriously powerful with a wealth of features, and I'll continue to play around with them. </div>
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So it hasn't all been bad. </div>
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Oh and, hey, I'm back!</div>
basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-49374879448251779292015-08-13T21:00:00.000-07:002015-08-13T21:00:15.958-07:00Geek Speaking of Upchucking Pink Ponies<h3>
Geek Speak: All Hail Upchuckus!</h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBzjLnpOMyxEUGhWx7aGpIB_LsCzatv4_FI7AOYtHfit1cPPYZqISkPvjmHgakSKGXX-8EyNZMF8Rcw38mIz_vLqZp-eim9Wc_kgQjRFhrcYVpOFyoZyqMzGqwDeNx5bsomIHYaA/s1600/GS_Wuffles+Super+Vomit+Man.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBzjLnpOMyxEUGhWx7aGpIB_LsCzatv4_FI7AOYtHfit1cPPYZqISkPvjmHgakSKGXX-8EyNZMF8Rcw38mIz_vLqZp-eim9Wc_kgQjRFhrcYVpOFyoZyqMzGqwDeNx5bsomIHYaA/s640/GS_Wuffles+Super+Vomit+Man.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Ted probably would have been fine, but he stood up a <i>little</i> too fast striking that awesome big-damn-hero pose. Reality can be a harsh mistress. </div>
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I promise this is the last strip that features Ted vomiting. In the next strip we get to see him in the shower! You think I'm kidding don't you? </div>
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So the reason this didn't get posted for Friday the 7th is it was almost midnight on Thursday the 6th by the time that I finished the rendering work on the comic strip. By the time I'd started the post, added the text above, and started the review below it was well after midnight, and my ability to form sentences was in danger of being seriously compromised.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzbCfLwIPQyDNaVKOEbIrlsPvTt1SydbK9g0EynG3f2-9LuggeZLr3G2P9R-fgCW7H16Xv2g2UuKRosOLaK2heu6lejIyHlRaPD_QxcVpWulwO66lgrKY1E4JnKmXvhnJ0-xIv5Q/s1600/No+Pink+Ponies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzbCfLwIPQyDNaVKOEbIrlsPvTt1SydbK9g0EynG3f2-9LuggeZLr3G2P9R-fgCW7H16Xv2g2UuKRosOLaK2heu6lejIyHlRaPD_QxcVpWulwO66lgrKY1E4JnKmXvhnJ0-xIv5Q/s400/No+Pink+Ponies.jpg" width="257" /></a><b>Webcomic Review: No Pink Ponies</b></div>
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<b>Publisher: </b>Appears on KeenSpot.com</div>
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<b>Price:</b> Free...it's a webcomic</div>
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<b>Recommendation:</b> Highly recommended<br />
<b>Author:</b> Remy "Eisu" Mokhtar</div>
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I am really, really pleased to be able to recommend <i>No Pink Ponies</i> as a webcomic that is absolutely worth checking out. The other day I was browsing around <a href="https://www.comic-rocket.com/" target="_blank">Comic Rocket</a>, because I'd read my regular comics and was looking for something different. <i><a href="https://www.comic-rocket.com/explore/no-pink-ponies/" target="_blank">No Pink Ponies</a></i> showed up in my recommendations and I distinctly remember thinking, "what the hell, it costs me nothing but a few minutes of my life I'll never get back." It's illustrated by the same person who draws another comic I like, so I clicked the link. The next thing I knew a half hour had slipped by while I was happily unaware of its passing. </div>
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The basic idea of the strip is that it is a slice of life, geek culture comic strip with a female protagonist at its center. She opens a comic book shop so she can be closer to the cute guy she likes. Shenanigans ensue. The comic succeeds on several levels, but nowhere is that success more apparent than in crafting a female lead with an authentic voice. Jess is delightfully nerdy, adorably neurotic, and charmingly engaging. There are two weaknesses in the writing. Mokhtar is Malaysian, and English is not his first language, so his dialog sometimes comes out a little wonky because the structure isn't quite right. That's a minor thing. The bigger sin is that he will introduce new characters, or new information about characters in a way that feels like he's going back and adding continuity that didn't exist before.<br />
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The artwork is in a manga-style and nicely done. It's stylized without being completely over the top. The line work is precise and the characters don't ever feel stiff or rigid. The characters are well designed and expressive, which helps to make them identifiable. If there's a weakness in the artwork it's that Mokhtar tends to leave the illustration with ink outlines and and only the the occasional colored accent, like a tie or a hat. Without some level of color or shading it leaves the strip feeling a little flat. Overall, that's a minor technical note, and it only applies to the regular black and white strips, not the full-color "Sunday" strips. Another of my favorite cartoonists, <a href="http://www.kchronicles.com/" target="_blank">Keith Knight</a>, doesn't draw arms on his characters <a href="http://www.kchronicles.com/comics/2015-02-13_punch_line-fc873472.gif" target="_blank">unless he absolutely has to</a>. We all have our quirks.<br />
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Mokhtar does something really interesting in <i>No Pink Ponies</i> that I don't think I've seen anywhere else. None of the male character have names. Ever. The strip has been running since February 2006, and he has never revealed the names of the male characters. This has the effect of placing even more emphasis on the female characters, and fixing the male characters into supporting and background roles. Even Jess' love interest, the guy she opens a comic book store as a pretext to get close to, hasn't been given a name. It's effective. You'd think that you'd miss having names for all of the characters, but the way the strip is written it doesn't matter. The reader accepts that the characters all know each others' names, and they speak to one another in the way friends do, without having to announce the name of the person they're speaking with at the start of every sentence.<br />
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I could continue to gush about this comic for another paragraph or two. It's characters are charming, grounded, and well established. The overall story is well orchestrated and written in such a way that you find yourself rooting for the main characters. When there is a payoff in the story it delivers in a really satisfying way. I strongly recommend you check it out. This is great reading in the morning when you need a laugh to get your day started, when you need a fun diversion in the middle of a busy day, or just to read for fun when you have a minute to sit and relax.<br />
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basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-89204643868728867302015-07-30T22:02:00.000-07:002015-07-30T22:02:22.153-07:00Geek Speaking of Regurgitating Comics<h3>
Geek Speak: Super Spew!</h3>
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This, my friends, is why I don't ever have more than two consecutive drinks, three tops. One too many and I end up getting a <a href="http://media.giphy.com/media/g4UoBDyI1hdUQ/giphy-facebook_s.jpg" target="_blank"><i>serious </i>return on my investment</a>, and ROI isn't what you're trying to achieve when you're at a party or out with friends. </div>
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I'm trying something new with Wuffle's tutu, even though we're getting close to when he'll be able to take it off. I've never been completely happy with the way it looked. The other night I was reading my daughter her bedtime story and she'd picked out <i><a href="http://www.ladybuggirl.com/" target="_blank">Ladybug Girl</a> and the Dress-Up Dilemma. </i>In the book the main character wears a tutu with her ladybug costume. The artist draws the tutu really simply with some bold slashing lines. I may go back to trying to painstakingly draw out all of those ruffles, but I'll probably ultimately end up somewhere in between. </div>
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Comic Con a Story with Some Pictures</h3>
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Rather than belabor the events of Comic Con as I have in past years I think I'll wrap up it up with this post as a kind of show-and-tell with pictures taken over the weekend. </div>
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If your goal at Comic Con is to take pictures of great costumes you could spend all day standing in one spot outside the doors to the exhibit floor and completely fill up the memory on whatever camera you're using. Instead of trying to take pictures of every cool costume I encountered I focused on getting fun moments.</div>
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Even Supergirl needs the occasional pick-me-up. I thought the idea of Supergirl sneaking a quick coffee break was too good to pass up. She seemed genuinely surprised when I told her I wanted a picture with the coffee. </div>
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There's not really a particular moment I'm catching here. I had walked about ten steps past her when I realized she was dressed as Otto from <i>The Simpsons</i>, complete with bus. Props for creativity. This is a great example of what can be accomplished by thinking <i>inside </i>the box. </div>
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There is a little story to go with this one. I had stopped by Nooligan's booth to chat and to see if he would give some feedback on my sketchbook. He did both, and then some. I really got more than I bargained for. He took a look at my sketchbook and just <i>went off, </i>which was great. He started out saying that he likes what I'm doing but I need to be way looser and less inhibited in my sketchbook. In a sense he was preaching to the converted. I've been thinking for a while now that my drawings need to be way more flowing and dynamic. Not satisfied with simply telling me to be looser and more scribbly he proceeded to open to the inside of the front cover of the sketchbook and <i>show</i> me what he meant. Then he asked what kind of pen I like and said, "here try this," and handed me one of his. I tried it, thought it was great, and told him as much. When I tried to hand it back he told me to <i>keep it</i>. He then did the same thing with another pen. I ended up buying a print of his I really like of Superboy playing fetch with Krypto, the Superdog, and walked away with the print and a lot to think about and to work on. </div>
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Walked past a great, great Anna costume as I was on my way from one panel to another. I didn't ask her to pose at all, but I like what she did here. It's like "Anna, did you try to give the kingdom away to another princeling desperate for a throne of his own?" </div>
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You have been a good boy...'nuff said. Also, my wedding ring is really shiny. </div>
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At the Old Spaghetti Factory for dinner Friday after the convention. All three of my dinner companions were checking the live feed from the Star Wars panel. While we were there someone sat down in the booth across from us and pulled out a sketchbook and started drawing while chatting with his friends. </div>
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I was doing something not altogether different on the back of the placemat. </div>
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After the <i>Star Wars</i> concert there was an <b>EPIC</b> fireworks show. Seriously, they did things with fireworks I thought could only be achieved with CGI animation and direction from Steven Spielberg. </div>
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The problem with running into Harley is she's always trying to get you hammered. </div>
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Waiting in line for the convention to open with literally thousands of my fellow geeks.</div>
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First stop, the pro lounge for a badly needed cup or two (or three) of free coffee. It wasn't outstanding coffee but, goddammit, it was <i>free!</i></div>
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The new security company was really, really strict! Sadly, neither of these turned out to be Adam Savage. </div>
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She knows her value. It's not well represented here, but every time I saw an Agent Carter costume I tried to get a picture to send my wife. On another note, I kind of love the lights in this one. </div>
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In a stroke of pure dumb luck I happened to be the first person to the Baby Tattoo books booth on Friday morning. By first person to the booth of course I mean they were still setting up and were a little discombobulated when I walked up and started asking about a Brian Kesinger sketch cover on Darth Vader #1. He was only doing two books per day and I was the first person to ask for one that day. The only direction I gave was "I'd like a steampunk Vader." Beyond that I said Brian could go nuts. By the end of the day he wasn't quite done and asked if he could keep it until Saturday, which I was more than happy to let him do. He rewarded my patience with this. Brian really likes steampunk and I think he really likes drawing Vader, and it shows. When I picked it up he actually thanked <i>me. </i>Which was nice, but I'm pretty sure I got more out of the exchange. He produced one of those drawings where you get something new out of it every time you look at it. I couldn't be happier with it, and as soon as I can find some frames that fit it will be going up on my wall so I can look at it as I'm doing my own drawing. </div>
basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-23870109792706370922015-07-16T22:48:00.002-07:002015-07-16T22:48:55.375-07:00Geek Speaking of Booze Hound Conventions<h3>
<b>Geek Speak: Booze Hound</b></h3>
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Sometimes I struggle with what to call a strip when it's posted. In this case the name kind of suggested itself. I suppose I could also have called this "Dog Breath vs. Morning Breath: Dawn of Halitosis," but DC Comics has a lock on the rights to shitty titles.<br />
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In a way this strip explains how I feel about drinking to forget your problems. When you wake up in the morning the problems are still going to be there. You still have to deal with them, only now you get to do it with a hangover and feeling like you might puke if someone so much as says the word...well...puke. Sometimes having a drink after a hard day is ok, but hard drinking at the end of the day is a problem.<br />
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You might wake up to find a talking dog in your house.<br />
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Comic Con 2015</h3>
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It's not possible after last weekend for me to sit at my keyboard to write a post and not talk about the <a href="http://www.dayherald.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/Comic-Con-2015.jpg" target="_blank">San Diego Comic Con</a>. Every year, and every convention I go to, whether it's Wonder Con or Comic Con I think, "this is it. This is the year I become jaded, and the feeling of belonging goes away and this stops making me happy." I'm happy to report that so far I've been disappointed in that regard. The feeling of being able to shed the person that I present to others in my day-to-day life and really get to be authentically myself has changed somewhat. It has diminished to a degree, but at the end of each day of convention I went back to the hotel tired, happy, and little lighter in the general region of my wallet. </div>
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This year I drove down with a friend of Tea Leaf who we'll call Master Turtle. I'd met him a few times before, and we generally get along. We killed the time in the car by talking about everything from what he does for a living, which is way, way more interesting than what I do for a living, to marriage, to kids, to what he does for a living which is way, WAY more interesting than my job. </div>
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We arrived in San Diego around 8:30, which means we made pretty good time. Pro-tip: if you only make use of them occasionally, you can use toll roads in California without an electronic pass. After using the toll road you have a week or so to pay the toll on the website www.thetollroads.com. It's worth it to knock twenty to thirty minutes off of the trip. To be honest, though, I might try taking the train to San Diego the next time I go to the convention. </div>
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Through the magic of Tea Leaf and the arcane influence he exerts on the world we were able to find parking at PetCo Park, and we made our way into the convention. I would like to pause (or "paws") for a moment here to say that a sports arena called "PetCo Park" should have <a href="https://grist.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/puppies2.jpg" target="_blank">puppies</a> on-site at all times, and you should be able to spend five bucks to get fifteen minutes of play time with them. </div>
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At some point Master Turtle let me in on a <a href="http://core0.staticworld.net/images/article/2014/05/whisper_shh-100268432-large.jpg" target="_blank">secret</a>, or not so much a secret as something that Comic Con makes available, but doesn't generally advertise. On the second floor of the convention center they have a room set aside as a "Pro Lounge" for professional badge holders. The lounge is set up with chairs and tables, it has outlets for charging devices, it has wi-fi, they offer a coffee and tea service, and it's even staffed with people to help you out. It's magical, and whenever I needed a break and to get off of my feet (or a free cup of coffee) I went to the lounge. Tea Leaf and Celluloid Girl, both hardcore con-goers, were also unaware of the lounge. This became the high point of my time at Comic Con as I had some great conversations, with some neat people. </div>
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Master Turtle and I picked up our passes. One of the nice things about having a professional pass is there is almost never a line to pick up your pass, and you fly right through check in. From there we headed up to get in line with everyone else waiting to get into the convention. </div>
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Here is an area where I think Comic-Con International fell a little short. The line to get into the convention was on the second floor and funneled <i>everyone </i>onto a single escalator. That's right, tens of thousands of people getting to the con floor by <i>one </i>escalator. I can understand why they did it. It means there isn't a crowd of people waiting at the doors to get in, so it eliminates that Black Friday crush of humanity surging toward a door and stomping anything, or anyone, in its path. It is a deliberate bottleneck. Still, the convention center is a <i>huge</i> place. It has a lot of ways to get down to the convention floor, and I feel like splitting things up would make for a smoother opening, better crowd control, and a safer situation overall. Lesson learned, next time I go to comic con I am getting my badge, then going out into the <a href="https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/73/1a/2c/731a2cc16fecaeac15e5fdce90443978.jpg" target="_blank">Gaslamp Quarter </a>to find something to eat instead of waiting in line.<br />
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Master Turtle and I did eventually make it to the floor, where we immediately went our separate ways so we could make it to our first panels of the convention. Most of the panels I attended were specifically geared for people who draw comics, so the first panel I attended was "Drawing with <a href="http://www.dccomics.com/talent/ed-mcguinness" target="_blank">Ed McGuinness</a>." He talked a lot about the craft of getting into comics, but not too much about actually drawing. I take that back, he talked <i>a lot</i> about how he didn't like how the drawing of Superman he was working on, which had been requested by people in the audience who, admittedly, knew his work better than me. It's understandable, he's used to working on an elevated, angled surface, and in order to draw and talk at the same time he had to perch awkwardly on the back of a chair and draw on a digital overhead projector whose lamp was directly in his field of vision. Even so, most of us looking at the illustration of Superman he was apologizing for even as he created had a single collective thought, "screw you dude. I draw maybe <i>half</i> that well on my <i>best </i>day."<br />
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From there it was off to a workshop with cover artist Michael Cho, and graphic designer Chip Kidd. At the start of that panel the moderator had the privilege of presenting Kidd with a Comic Con International Inkpot Award for his contributions to comics. This is the second time I've seen this award presented. The first was to Bruce Timm. In both cases it was nearly without ceremony and a complete surprise to the recipient, which gives the presentation of the award a kind of authenticity that is really charming.<br />
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After the workshop with Cho and Kidd it was off to lunch. I was straight starving and needed sustenance. I hit the food trucks where I met up with Tea Leaf and Celluloid Girl for the first time at the convention. They spotted me because of the bright green Green Lantern shirt I was wearing, I spotted Celluloid Girl because of her awesome stripey hat.<br />
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After lunch it was off to more art instruction in the form of a painting and illustration panel with Jeffrey Watts and Erik Gist of the <a href="http://www.wattsatelier.com/" target="_blank">Watts Atelier</a>. It was like a sixty minute infomercial for attending the Watts Atelier, interspersed with some really sound advice for improving figure illustration. I listened with half an ear and a bit while I drew the models. I'm linking to it here because, honestly, I like their approach and their philosophy on teaching art. Both of the panelists are the real deal. What they were able to do with paints in an hour represents a lifetime of learning, practice, teaching, and application.<br />
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From there I was off to the <a href="http://www.terrymooreart.com/" target="_blank">Terry Moore</a> Panel. I could fill an entire blog post talking about Terry Moore. Instead I will just say this, I have tremendous respect and admiration for Moore as a person and a creator. Every time I'm lucky enough to hear him talk, or even to talk with him in person I feel like I leave with a lot of things to think about. He's also a very talented writer and illustrator whose books are worth picking up. <br />
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After that I ran to a panel on marker rendering presented by Mark Books. He and his wife were co-hosting the panel, which was good because he was invested in illustrating and rendering a drawing of Catwoman and Batman as he was talking. On that one I bailed early because it was six in the evening and time to go to dinner because, once again, I was straight starving. I'd also agreed to meet up with Master Turtle, Celluloid Girl, and Tea Leaf at the Old Spaghetti Factory.<br />
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We arrived at the Old Spaghetti Factory and were informed there was no soup available. Which seemed like an odd thing to take off the menu. The waiter then doubled down on the odd choices by offering Master Turtle a side salad to go with the chicken salad he'd ordered for dinner. Food ordered I dove into drawing a goofy little cartoon sketch while my companions dove into their phones to follow a live blog of the Star Wars panel that was going on at the same time. When J.J. Abrams announced that everyone attending the panel was going to be treated to a surprise concert featuring music from the Star Wars movies Tea Leaf all but wept. There were tears and consolation. Then we went for ice cream.<br />
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It is becoming something of a convention tradition to go to the Old Spaghetti Factory, and then go to Ghiardelli to get ice cream for dessert. They make a hot fudge sundae that can deservedly be called legendary, and is the thing I order whenever we go. In some ways I look forward to those two things as much as walking the floor, or learning how to draw from icons in the field of comic book illustration.<br />
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After ice cream I drove to the hotel, which wasn't really notable except for one thing. We could see Mexico from our room. That is not a Sarah Palin "I can see Russia from my house" kind of exaggeration. We could literally see Tijuana from our hotel. What did it look like? Honestly? It looked like any other big city at night, just a bunch of lights in the darkness. I have to imagine there were probably people looking back in our direction and thinking, "I can see America from here."<br />
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On a final note. I was a <i>lot </i>more selective with the pictures I took this year, and used the camera on my phone almost exclusively. Still, I got some fun images. I'll share those and my doodles in the next post. </div>
<br />basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-38798555587878221092015-07-12T15:18:00.000-07:002015-07-12T15:18:01.297-07:00Comic Con Meets Misfortune<h3>
Comic Con and the Adventures of those Less Fortunate</h3>
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This weekend I was fortunate enough to spend two days at the San Diego Comic Con, but this isn't a story about the costumes I saw, the panels I sat in on, or the neat things I bought. That story is coming later, this is a story about someone I met who may have changed my life. </div>
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The first day of Con I was walking with a friend to get lunch at some food trucks that had gathered in a parking lot set up like the world's nerdiest carnival. Call it Mardis Geek. Anyway, as we were walking over the bridge to get to the lot where the food trucks were set up we passed a woman pushing a stroller. Not in and of itself unique. Haggard looking parents pushing a stroller are legion at the convention. She was different from the rest for two reasons. She was dressed like a hippie, and the stroller clearly was packed with all her worldly possessions, including her young son. She has a sign, "Mom and super hippie dippy kid need help. Anything helps, god bless you."</div>
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In my cynicism I dismissed her. "I don't have anything to give right now. Even if I did I'm not giving her money so she can go put it up her arm." Thus satisfied with my superior station in life I kept walking. I was in for a rude awakening. </div>
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I ran into her again the next day when I went to Ralph's in search of coffee and breakfast. She was in the baby food aisle buying applesauce packets for her kid, just like any mom. He was fussing, and she sounded desperate. I yanked my head out of my cynical orifice and opened my wallet and handed twenty dollars. She nearly broke down in tears, and I took my cynicism out and buried it alive. In addition to the twenty bucks I bought her a sippy cup so she could give her son water, a packet of Gerbert fortified baby yogurt, and wipes. She told me how she had come to be there and I realized something critical. She's not a "bum," or a drug addict, or a loser. She was bright, even articulate, and she had been dealt as raw a deal as anyone I've ever heard of. She could be me or anyone I know under the right, or more appropriately, the wrong circumstances.<br />
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When everything was bought and paid for she called me an angel, "a real angel," she said. Which was interesting because I was wearing my Doctor Who Weeping Angels t-shirt.<br />
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I played a little with the kid. Gave him a high five, and made funny faces that he giggled. They checked out and left the stored. I did too, and fought the urge to sob furiously. My heart was full of an anger so pure, so hot that I wanted to hit something. Not because someone had wronged them, which assuredly someone had, or because here was a small boy suffering in the midst of an orgy of consumer greed, but because it was infuriatingly unfair. He certainly hadn't had a choice in his circumstances, but there he was, an innocent victim caught in a whirlwind of misfortune.<br />
So I'm writing to those of you still at the convention. If you see a mom pushing a little brown haired boy in a stroller packed with odds and ends, including a child sized guitar, help them out. Toss them whatever change you have from buying that con-exclusive lego set. Even if it's just a little bit, I guarantee you it's 500% more than they have already.<br />
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I ordinarily don't use this as a space for PSAs like some geek equivalent of Sally Struthers, but I feel safe putting it here because you're my people. Many of you, particularly the professionals, wouldn't be there if someone hadn't given you a hand up at some point, so we know the value of feeling that we're not going it alone.<br />
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If you see them, and you can toss them a few bucks, tell them the angel sent you. </div>
basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-40614517309828764162015-07-05T21:17:00.001-07:002015-07-05T21:17:36.391-07:00Geek Speaking of Wayback Machine Wet Dreams<br />
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Geek Speak: Wet (Nose) Dreams</h3>
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Panel one was fun to draw for obvious reasons. On a less obvious level, I think we all secretly dream of wearing a tux as well as, and being as seductive and dangerous as <a href="https://33.media.tumblr.com/41b215668c64b141c7869bd941652bb0/tumblr_inline_mu0dgkKdwj1s9dz5r.jpg" target="_blank">James Bond</a>. Most men <i>look</i> killer in a tux, Bond actually is "killer in a tux." After a night of drinking as expression of denial I couldn't think of a worse way for Ted to wake up than nose to nose with the dog that drove him to buy the booze in the first place. </div>
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Geek Speaking: The Wayback Machine Edition, or A Little Bit of Catching Up</h3>
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I have a new cartoon for your viewing pleasure, but it does involve some characters from a previous story-arch in <i>Geek Speak</i>. To help you fill in the gaps I've posted links to the previous entries below. </div>
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For the record, I would <i>totally</i> have used images instead of text links, but Blogger makes that as hard as fucking possible to do. It's way past time for <i>Geek Speak</i> to outgrow Blogger. It's just...overdue. I'm just going to say it here. I will now start looking for a way to move Geek Speak into its own official site. There I said it. Now I have to do it. Get a website that puts the comic front and center with a blog engine so I can write these posts for the five people who read them. It will have to have an actual archive as well so I don't have to go through this ridiculous exercise every time I pick a recurring character's story.<br />
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<b>Ted and Wuffles</b><br />
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<li><a href="http://adventuresofnormalguy.blogspot.com/2013/06/geek-speaking-talking-dogs-in-sketchbook.html" target="_blank">I know I'm gorgeous</a> <i>in which I'm reminded that Ted's name was originally Brian.</i></li>
<li><a href="http://adventuresofnormalguy.blogspot.com/2013/06/geek-speaking-quicky-cartoon.html" target="_blank">You can talk</a> </li>
<li><a href="http://adventuresofnormalguy.blogspot.com/2013/06/geek-speaking-wuffles-and-beautiful.html" target="_blank">Wuffles!</a> <i>Still in the top five of best comics I've done to date. </i></li>
<li><a href="http://adventuresofnormalguy.blogspot.com/2013/06/geek-speaking-new-toys.html" target="_blank">Don't let her take me!</a> <i>In which I talk about new art supplies that have really helped me take my artwork to the next level. </i></li>
<li><a href="http://adventuresofnormalguy.blogspot.com/2013/06/geek-speaking-boozy-votes.html" target="_blank">Power of booze</a> <i>In which I said this, which is worth repeating, </i>"<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15.8400001525879px; line-height: 22.1760005950928px;">Hipster Charlie Brown says, "I liked the cute little red-haired girl before it was cool."</span></li>
<li><a href="http://adventuresofnormalguy.blogspot.com/2013/07/geek-speaking-thirteenth-anniversary-bus.html" target="_blank">Catch that bus</a> <i>In which I said something beautiful about my wife. Our anniversary is coming up again in a couple of weeks, and I don't know if I'm going to make it to a computer to write a post on that day (our lives have become far more busy and complicated in the last year), so I'll repeat the best thing I've ever said about being married to a wonderful woman, </i>"<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15.8400001525879px; line-height: 22.1760005950928px;">Did I marry my best friend? No. I found a missing piece of my <b>own</b> being. One who was searching for a fragment of <b>her</b> own self. We held each other and didn't let go, and thus made ourselves </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15.8400001525879px; line-height: 22.1760005950928px;"><b>whole</b>.</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 15.8400001525879px; line-height: 22.1760005950928px;"> "</span></li>
<li><a href="http://adventuresofnormalguy.blogspot.com/2013/08/geek-speaking-quick-drawing-undies-on.html" target="_blank">Amazing save</a>... </li>
<li><a href="http://adventuresofnormalguy.blogspot.com/2013/08/geek-speaking-on-heroics-of-miraculous.html" target="_blank">...or not such a great save</a></li>
<li><a href="http://adventuresofnormalguy.blogspot.com/2013/08/geek-speaking-medicinal-users-for-comic.html" target="_blank">Medicinal uses</a></li>
<li><a href="http://adventuresofnormalguy.blogspot.com/2013/10/geek-speaking-horror-of-noms.html" target="_blank">Walk with the Animals</a></li>
<li><a href="http://adventuresofnormalguy.blogspot.com/2014/01/random-geek-speaking-of-hobos-moving-up.html" target="_blank">Hobos</a> <i>In which I allude to starting a job with Disney, without actually using the name of the company. Now I don't know why I was being so circumspect. Turns out Disney was a great place to work with some seriously wonderful people. </i></li>
<li><a href="http://adventuresofnormalguy.blogspot.com/2014/01/geek-speaking-of-heroic-random-trek.html" target="_blank">Heroic Poser</a><i> I still love Francis in the last panel, "...check out my sweet new heroic pose." </i></li>
<li><a href="http://adventuresofnormalguy.blogspot.com/2014/01/geek-speaking-of-doctor-dolittles.html" target="_blank">Home at last</a><i> Obviously the strip is referring to the classic </i>Doctor Dolittle <i>with Rex Harrison and not the (admittedly pretty decent) remake with Eddie Murphy. </i></li>
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As I was going through and building the list of links to previous strips I ran across an earlier post in which I did the <i>same goddamn thing</i>. I really need an archive. </div>
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The other thing I noticed as I was going through this is the amazing transformation in the look of the strip. It starts with incredibly rough illustrations with dirty line work and colored/shaded with a black colored pencil from Prismacolor. The content is fine, but open a tab and compare the most recent strip to the first time we see Ted and Wuffles together. The differences is pretty incredible. Back then I don't think I'd have even attempted something like panel one in my most recent strip. </div>
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basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-81040627704356703492015-05-27T21:38:00.001-07:002015-05-27T21:38:25.704-07:00Geek Speaking of Loss<h3>
Geek Speak: The Lost and the Left Behind</h3>
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This week I lost something special, unique, and irreplaceable. I lost a friend. Bill Otto was one of a kind. He was compassionately tough, seriously ornery, studiously geeky, and classically metal. A while back he was diagnosed with leukemia, and fought it. Over Memorial Day weekend he lost that battle. In the thick of the fight he reached out through his family and the power of social media to his extended network of friends and asked for pictures, music, comments, books, anything to help him fill the time, keep his spirits up, and take his mind from the pain. For a while I wasn't sure what to do. I sketched out some ideas for original art of Wolverine, by far his favorite of the X-Men, but those weren't turning out. One day at work I sketched out a long-haired, head-banging, metal dude holding a cup of coffee and yelling "FUCK YEAH!" I added a caption, "How Metal Guy drinks his coffee" and it stuck. I did several Metal Guy cartoons, and by all reports he loved them. I was working on this one when I got the news.</div>
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Bill was special for a lot of reasons, but three things really stick out in my mind. First was his...love isn't the right word...not dedication...his <i>reverence </i>for <i>The Lord of the Rings </i>by J.R.R. Tolkien. It was looking at the books through his eyes helped me to read them in a new frame of mind. Particularly <i>The Fellowship of the Ring</i>. Let's be honest, at the end of the day it's a book about nine dudes on a (whoa! watch out for that orc) nature hike. It's a tough read. Looking at it through his eyes I was able not just to enjoy it, but to savor it. Bill was like that. He could make you look at the world through a different lens. He's one of the few people I'eve ever known who could help a person find perspective.</div>
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Another thing that sticks out in my memory of Bill is when I had decided I was going to enlist in the Air Force to be a combat photographer. I was, rightly, surrounded by family and friends who were skeptical and apprehensive about the decision. This was the end of 2001, and the United States was already in Afghanistan, and the writing was on the wall to take us into Iraq. To put it mildly, as a combat photographer I was <i>not</i> going to have a shortage of work. Bill never asked if I was sure. He'd already heard through the grapevine that I'd made a decision by the time saw him. The first words out of his mouth were, "So when are you going," and the look in his eyes said "hoo-rah!" When I was barred from entrance and handed a permanently disqualified status it rocked my world. I had to look at where I was and think seriously about the answer to the question, "well, shit. Now what?" He supported me then, too. </div>
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It would be impossible to talk about Bill without also talking about gaming. When I met Bill I was still in college, dreaming of being successful and maybe a little famous, hopelessly smitten with Mildly Sensational, and desperately broke. When you've got your head in the clouds, and a bank ledger redder than Spider-Man's long johns, entertainment is where you can find it. My friends and I often found it in role playing games. <i>Dungeons and Dragons</i> was a perennial favorite, but we dabbled in just about anything that excited our imaginations. Bill was there for a lot of that. He played a long running <i>Aeon Trinity</i> game, which then became <i>Aberrant</i>, and many others. More weekends than I can count were spent starting a game Friday night, playing until Saturday morning, crashing for a few hours, getting up and maybe doing a few things around the house, then getting a game going sometime Saturday afternoon which would last until sometime Sunday morning. Then, exhausted to the point of deliriousness, we'd fall into our beds and sleep for a few hours, get up in time to get things ready for the rest of the week, then collapse, sleeping with the knowledge that we'd be gaming up again at the end of the week, and dreaming of the adventures we'd enjoy through the shared experience of collaborative story telling. Bill was right in there with us, often playing one variation on the soft-spoken tough guy or another. You know. Bill. We laughed, we played, we ate mountains of pizza, and built memories that all of us will carry of each other for the rest of our lives.<br />
<br />
Good-bye, Bill. Rest in peace. You are missed. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-38239438363913261852015-03-25T23:48:00.000-07:002015-03-25T23:48:29.487-07:00Geek Speaking of Spiders in the Dad Zone<h3>
Geek Speaking of Getting on the Nope Train</h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjujZ-Xy5JwrITlM436rHQBq5N9WI0iX3IAdd8e38-k4-0Mms66NDV03N8YpmeKyY5wVzGmwjX0PXp4LbwvRkaTzBB9p3hKrWRwOLaZBJIZg6j0kjc0D6ijZD1atsMd_hKIV_lHkg/s1600/GS_covered+in+spiders.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjujZ-Xy5JwrITlM436rHQBq5N9WI0iX3IAdd8e38-k4-0Mms66NDV03N8YpmeKyY5wVzGmwjX0PXp4LbwvRkaTzBB9p3hKrWRwOLaZBJIZg6j0kjc0D6ijZD1atsMd_hKIV_lHkg/s1600/GS_covered+in+spiders.jpg" height="268" width="640" /></a></div>
<div>
<br />
On a personal note, I'm genuinely scared of spiders. Every so often I think that I'm going to be cool, I'm going to be tough, I'm going to act like a goddamn adult and get over my fear of tiny eight legged demon spawn. Without fail that's when a spider will catch me by surprise. The effect is...deeply un-fun. I can't get my breath, my heart pounds in my chest, and my vision starts to blur. It's very much like having a panic attack, or the reaction I have whenever someone says "President <a href="http://rlv.zcache.com.au/anti_palin_she_scares_me_postcard-r29a11b8fef974703989e4232c517221c_vgbaq_8byvr_324.jpg" target="_blank">Sarah Palin</a>" (pant, pant, wheeze, I'm clutching my chest here).<br />
<br />
With that said, would I abandon my child in this situation? Would I leave my own beloved daughter covered in spiders to cope by herself? Goddamn right I would! When was the last time you saw a spider? They have <i>eight legs</i>.<br />
<br />
<b>Tales from the Dad Zone: Normal Guy and Mildly Sensational vs. Ikea</b><br />
No it doesn't have anything to do with Spiders. Mildly Sensational and I went out and bought our daughter, Somewhat Wonderful, a new bed. Her toddler bed was starting to get too small, and we were going to need to get her a new, bigger bed soon anyway, so we used her birthday as an excuse to venture forth to Ikea and pick out her new big girl bed. We did it fast, we did it loud, and we did it as a <a href="http://www.rellimzone.com/images/movies/the-croods-2013-01.png" target="_blank">family</a>. Stupid us. The two of us, plus the two of them, plus the utter chaos that is Ikea anyway, and we were lucky to get out with our sanity intact.<br />
<br />
We arrived and went straight upstairs to the kids' furniture section so Somewhat Wonderful could try the beds. She meandered through the kids beds for a moment, then we took her over to the regular beds section and she entertained herself on those until she had a minor meltdown over needing to go to the bathroom but not wanting to. Then when she came back she didn't want to look at beds, crossed her arms, sat on the floor, and told us she wanted to be alone, which any sane parents would take as a cue to pick up the little congressional hopeful before she can get her full obstructionist going and take her the hell home. We're sane (marginally, but stilling hanging in there) so we tried. She didn't want to go home, she wanted to go to the mountains, which turned out to be the tents in the area of Ikea set up for kids toys. All of this has taken an hour up to this point and our son, Moderately Amazing, is starting to lose his little eighteen month old mind in his stroller. He's squirming, and whining, and bucking his hips like he's hoping to break through the straps with one mighty hump. While his sister is busy making Mildly Sensational marginally furious I pause to take him out of the stroller and sit with him in a tiny, kid-sized rocking chair. At which point he promptly begins our two-man show called "Father and Son Demonstrate Alligator Wrestling." The tiny toe headed tornado in my arms manages to slip free, so I have no choice but to get up and walk around with him.<br />
<br />
Around this time Mildly Sensational has turned to the only truly reliable weapon in any parent's arsenal to get their kid to do what they want. Bribery. This time it takes the form of a plush cupcake set. Somewhat Wonderful can have her cupcake set if she will pick a bed. Please. For the love of Christ on Sunday, pick a fucking bed so we can go home! We got looks that could freeze yogurt at twenty paces for that. But...hey...froyo. The bribe agreed upon we made our way back into the kids' furniture section and pointed Somewhat Wonderful at the bed we wanted to get her anyway and convinced her that she wanted it, and it was really her idea all along.<br />
<br />
Then we made our way into the concrete bowel of Ikea. A place of meandering corridors where lost souls wander in search of bargain Swedish, ready-to-assemble furniture with instructions in all but incomprehensible hieroglyphs. My wife and I have been together for eighteen years. We've been through some really tough things together, so the foundation on which we've built our marriage is pretty strong. Newlyweds, if you really want to test the depth of your commitment to each other go to Ikea and buy some bullshit stuff like...I don't know...a new desk and a lamp. When you've picked out what you want go down into the cold, uncaring, concrete hell that is the Ikea warehouse. One of you push the cart while the other one navigates to the aisle and bin where you will allegedly find your purchases. Stronger marriages than yours have been crushed to powder by this very thing.<br />
<br />
If you see a pale, wrinkly little guy with stringy hair lurking between the aisles and whining about a lost ring, <i>run like hell. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
We survived. Our sanity and our marriage intact and made it home with a Kura reversible bed. Reversible because if you stand it on one end it's a loft bed, if you stand it on the other it's more or less a standard twin bed frame. I guess "reversible" tested better in focus groups than "turn-upside-down-able."<br />
<br />
In the next edition Normal Guy and the Quest for a Second Wrench.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-65287905248533568462015-03-12T22:25:00.000-07:002015-03-12T22:25:53.172-07:00Randomly Jackson-ed Off<h3>
Random Thoughts</h3>
<div>
Recipe
for happiness: have a root beer float at least once a week.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When
your boss (who enjoys your artwork) accuses you of being a tease because you
happened to bring the new, largely empty, sketchbook with you instead of the
one containing pencils for upcoming comics, the appropriate response probably
is <span style="font-style: italic;">not, </span>"I'm not a tease, we both
know I put out." </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<h3>
Jackson-ed Off</h3>
<div>
For a long time now I've followed an artist by the name of Phillip M. Jackson, who goes by the nom de guerre of "Jolly Jack." I should start this by saying I love his work. He bridges between realistic and cartoonish, and his long running strip,<i> <a href="http://www.collectedcurios.com/index.html" target="_blank">Sequential Art</a></i>, is consistently in the top five web strips I recommend that people read. He was one of the reasons that I signed up for a membership on Deviant Art, and one of the reasons I started posting anything over there. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Recently he posted something that made me realize some things about art and artists. I'm not going to put the image in here, because it is <i>not</i> for the squeamish. If you would like to see it after reading what I have to say, I'll post the link at the end. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
One of his recent posts is a lengthy, vertically oriented comic strip featuring his avatar, a cartoon hamster, showing off the book-like cover for his iPad to Penny from <i>Inspector Gadget</i>. Those of us who watched the cartoon will remember lusting after her all-powerful computer book she used to actually get things done while Inspector Gadget was off impersonating the love child of all Three Stooges and Q from the James Bond movies. As the strip progresses the hamster gets more and more outraged at her apparent ambivalence to the awesomeness of his iPad book until he eventually hits her with it, knocking her down and out of frame.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Then he hits her again.</div>
<div>
And again.</div>
<div>
The iPad case becomes bloodier and bloodier.</div>
<div>
He stops, considering what he's done, then wanders out of frame.</div>
<div>
Then, and this is where it takes <a href="http://new2.fjcdn.com/comments/Its+like+a+train+wreck+_a57d9549be84c44929b44bb2c60635f1.jpg" target="_blank">an extremely disquieting turn</a>, he comes back into frame holding a knife.</div>
<div>
He's seen carving on something, presumably Penny's corpse. Blood splatters and his expression is maniacally determined.</div>
<div>
<a href="http://bigjoeonthego.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/make-it-stop-grumpy-cat.jpg" target="_blank">He bends down out of frame.</a></div>
<div>
Over the next two panels he stands up into frame wearing a <a href="http://www.gifsforum.com/images/image/omg/grand/omfg_two.jpg" target="_blank">Penny-face-flesh-mask</a>. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Keep in mind, he's making light of brutally killing and mutilating a girl who's supposed to be ten years old. A fictional cartoon character, sure, but he also placed himself in that situation through the use of his avatar, which personalizes things to a degree. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
An understandably outraged someone left this comment in his feed: "This is NOT ok. I like your art. I try to ignore your smug sexism. But if you're gonna draw pictures of that thing killing children and ripping their faces off, you have officially crossed the line. I'm done following you. I'm blocking you, and I'm reporting this image. Fuck you. I hope you die like this." </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
While this loses credibility by wishing such a gruesome fate on the artist, he does make a point. There is <a href="http://jollyjack.deviantart.com/art/Elephant-Syrup-297996542" target="_blank">funny</a>, then there's <a href="http://bank.imgdumpr.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/So-wrong-but-it-feels-so-right.jpg" target="_blank">funny, but wrong</a>; and finally there's <a href="https://imagemacros.files.wordpress.com/2009/08/thats_just_wrong_bears.jpg" target="_blank">just plain wrong</a>. For me, this strip falls into that latter camp. It's definitely not my cup of tea. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When I thought about it a little more it raised the question, do you judge an artist solely on the merits of a single piece of work? If this was the only thing you'd ever seen from Jolly Jack, you might not ever come back. No one would blame you, this is way over-the-top. Admittedly he does a lot of comics that can only be called pornography, but it's not all he does, and it's not the most significant work he does. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Also, as an artist who draws comic strips there are comics I've done, and some I will do at some point, that I would not want certain people to see. Sometimes you get an idea for something that crosses the line, but it won't leave you alone, and the only way to deal with it is to just go ahead and <i>do it</i>. I leave those in my sketchbook where they will probably never see the light of day. Jackson seems to have no qualms about putting his darkest ideas on display for the world. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
With all of that said, I don't think I can stop following Jackson for this one piece. I enjoy his other work too much to abandon it. Pieces like these:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Bernadette from <i>Death Vigil: </i><a href="http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2014/205/2/5/ireap_by_jollyjack-d7s2u95.jpg">http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2014/205/2/5/ireap_by_jollyjack-d7s2u95.jpg</a></li>
<li>Gandalf, the family cat: <a href="http://jollyjack.deviantart.com/art/Gandalf-Cat-443747610">http://jollyjack.deviantart.com/art/Gandalf-Cat-443747610</a></li>
<li>A dragon and a cupcake for his grandma's birthday: <a href="http://jollyjack.deviantart.com/art/Cupcake-Dragon-439467534">http://jollyjack.deviantart.com/art/Cupcake-Dragon-439467534</a></li>
<li>The bodacity of this: <a href="http://jollyjack.deviantart.com/art/WE-ARE-BUT-MEN-370424137">http://jollyjack.deviantart.com/art/WE-ARE-BUT-MEN-370424137</a></li>
<li>Most of all the touching poignancy of this: <a href="http://jollyjack.deviantart.com/art/Don-t-tap-the-glass-416732878">http://jollyjack.deviantart.com/art/Don-t-tap-the-glass-416732878</a></li>
<li><i>Sequential Art</i> it's frustrating as hell that he can't stick to a regular update schedule, but then I'm not one to throw stones: <a href="http://www.collectedcurios.com/index.html">http://www.collectedcurios.com/index.html</a></li>
</ul>
After giving it some serious thought, I believe it's possible to continue to like, and follow, and be influenced by an artist, even if you don't like <i>everything</i> he does. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The image in question can be found here: <a href="http://jollyjack.deviantart.com/art/Computer-Book-519052214">http://jollyjack.deviantart.com/art/Computer-Book-519052214</a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Not for the squeamish, or those who loved cartoons in the '80s. You've been warned. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-30787800612927874352015-03-03T23:43:00.001-08:002015-03-03T23:43:05.874-08:00Geek Speaking of Feeling the Thunderer<h3>
Geek Speak: Classic Game Distraction Tactics</h3>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWJhmMkq_mTtM4BExvwJotWQXATflrgw1-M-wP3jJN6fnhvWbbI-Fr8xzyag-xB-uTZ6hJ7UsOTIQQEEk_wQWsUyF_1K_40NhMRcWdTMwkdy7fDe9Pe99a_wOKOMgugQSKaE3GQ/s1600/GS_Dangerous+out+there.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWJhmMkq_mTtM4BExvwJotWQXATflrgw1-M-wP3jJN6fnhvWbbI-Fr8xzyag-xB-uTZ6hJ7UsOTIQQEEk_wQWsUyF_1K_40NhMRcWdTMwkdy7fDe9Pe99a_wOKOMgugQSKaE3GQ/s1600/GS_Dangerous+out+there.jpg" height="262" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Some of my comics flirt with being autobiographical. This one doesn't so much flirt as buys it dinner, takes it out dancing, then home for a nightcap where they fall into bed and make passionate, floor shaking, wall thumping love. Which is really long and colorful way to say, "this be a true story, folks."<br />
<br />
I was in the kitchen working on something, which is hardly unusual, the kitchen is kind of like my man-cave. Some days it's where I go to get away and unwind. I don't think Mildly Sensational minds so much because my unwinding in the kitchen usually produces things like dinner, or dairy free <a href="http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/vanilla-custard-231672" target="_blank">vanilla custard</a> (made with coconut cream instead of whole milk, it's <i>awesome!) </i>Over the holidays I even experimented with baking my custard in <a href="http://thaifood.about.com/od/thaidesserts/r/pumpkincustard.htm" target="_blank">pumpkins</a>.<br />
<br />
All of which sounds way more exciting than, "I was in the kitchen doing dishes," which was more likely the case. As it turns out, feeding a family of four means there's a steady stream of dishes needing to be washed. I turned around to grab another dish of the stove and Mildly Sensational was standing there holding out our son, Moderately Amazing. She looked me in the eye and said in a perfect deadpan, "It's dangerous to go alone. Take this."<br />
<br />
Those who've grown up playing video games probably get the reference right away, for others it might take <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/It%27s_dangerous_to_go_alone!" target="_blank">some explaining</a>.<br />
<br />
Yes, that is a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Miskatonic_University" target="_blank">Miskatonic University</a> shirt Mildly Sensational is wearing.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD2OpIccZZv2OzgxRcL4FOwRYWs26yzKqC9RMW5iSfFN2eJdC9zgvGcsTYdg4omGsHaX7m9Tidl2i53oDUe9xEzyhk5VnZOJ2d_aeRXWlT9pT70yVZs1FKfUr6h_KbVhacWKK8nQ/s1600/thor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD2OpIccZZv2OzgxRcL4FOwRYWs26yzKqC9RMW5iSfFN2eJdC9zgvGcsTYdg4omGsHaX7m9Tidl2i53oDUe9xEzyhk5VnZOJ2d_aeRXWlT9pT70yVZs1FKfUr6h_KbVhacWKK8nQ/s1600/thor.jpg" height="400" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My favorite of the alternate covers</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>Comic Book Review: THOR!</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Publisher: </b>Marvel<br />
<b>Issue: </b>1 through 5<br />
<b>Price: </b>$3.99 (Yikes)<br />
<b>Recommendation:</b> Recommended<br />
<br />
I will confess that prior to the relaunch of <i>Thor</i> late last year I had never read the comic, nor had I really ever wanted to. Big muscled blond guy in tight pants who happens to be a god defends the earth, which he calls Midgaard, by beating things up with a magic hammer. To me that's what Thor's stories always boiled down to...<a href="http://imgc.allpostersimages.com/images/P-473-488-90/38/3847/IAVYF00Z/posters/nose-art-ho-hum-pin-up.jpg" target="_blank">yawn</a>. In the hands of the right team I know that he's had some good story lines, but overall I feel that, as a character, Thor has typically gotten lost in a field that is full of muscle-bound white dudes beating stuff up.<br />
<br />
Ok, the Hulk is technically green, but stay with me.<br />
<br />
When it was announced that Marvel would be trading in Thor's <a href="http://i.imgur.com/ni07Z.jpg" target="_blank">mighty thews</a> and passing the hammer to a female lead I took notice. I'll admit to wrestling with whether or not to pick up the book at the risk of buying into what might or might not be a marketing stunt intended to boost a title with flagging sales. I mean, come on. It's comic books. They do crazy stuff all the time to try to sell more books. Those of us who read books in the 90's will remember rushing out to buy <a href="http://comicbook.com/blog/2014/07/06/10-silliest-comic-book-gimmick-covers-from-the-1990s/" target="_blank">holographic foil print covers</a> of <i>X-Men</i> because "they'll be worth something someday." I'm glad I ultimately decided to ignore that instinct and pick up the book.<br />
<br />
While the writing doesn't exactly <a href="https://d2ym1c8foyyc92.cloudfront.net/articles/760x428/navya_shocked-baby-face.jpg" target="_blank">blow me away</a> it's solid, with a good hook in the form of not immediately revealing the identity of the new hand that grips the hammer. The writers are obviously enjoying the dual nature of the new Thor as her inner monologue is that of a modern woman, while her speech is that of the Norse god(dess) of Thunder. As the story unfolds we're given bits and pieces of information that are clearly intended to lead up to a much larger event, but right now work well as standalone adventures to introduce us to the new Thor. What I like best about the writing so far is that Jason Aaron accomplishes something really difficult. He crafts a story such that the reader is drawn into the character of Thor as she learns about what it means to wield the hammer. Aaron places the reader in the character's boots as she questions her powers, tests their limits, and discovers that, for all practical purposes, she really has none. As it should be for a goddess.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmlTtfeK68ywvFx0UfKsTzmgovIW1djggrV6zGBjEjhCPbYk_tHyo3JK1XS0vnaUhGmfWS195GQQWf6jREJwg9ZO5GwjqliRXigP6ifqumXsV8rFpJ1g3Up63RkAOyQXimNIGcrg/s1600/female+thor+first+appearance.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmlTtfeK68ywvFx0UfKsTzmgovIW1djggrV6zGBjEjhCPbYk_tHyo3JK1XS0vnaUhGmfWS195GQQWf6jREJwg9ZO5GwjqliRXigP6ifqumXsV8rFpJ1g3Up63RkAOyQXimNIGcrg/s1600/female+thor+first+appearance.jpg" height="400" width="250" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>I look at this and it still gives me goosebumps</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
While it doesn't have the fun cartoony quality of <i>Ms. Marvel</i> or the gorgeous colors, line work, and lighting of <i>Death Vigil, </i>I am really enjoying the artwork in <i>Thor</i>, provided by Russel Dauterman with colors by Matthew Wilson. They bring us into the world of the new Thor with classic comic book bravado. Their compositions accurately pace the action with relatively quiet moments feeling relatively static and confined, while action sequences feel chaotic and larger than life. Key moments are pulled off brilliantly, such as the first appearance of the new Thor after she has just picked up Mjolnir from the surface of the moon.<br />
<br />
If I have criticisms, they're nit picky at best. If the woman holding the hammer is mortal, how did she get to the moon? The hammer goes to those who are worthy to wield it, but she picked it up as though it were already hers. How did she know she would be worthy? I feel like we should have reached a point by now that we could all accept that boob armor is impractical and looks ridiculous.<br />
<br />
Really that's about it.<br />
<br />
It would be impossible to write about this comic book without touching on some of the social commentary that has come up around it. The same cynical, misogynistic, knuckle-dragger who brought us GamerGate wrote what I will only call vile opinion piece on this book for the online news-ish outlet, Breitbart. I won't link to it here. You can find it pretty easily in a Google Search. Take my word for it. You are a better person for not having read it.<br />
<br />
The decision to pass the hammer from "he of the thundering pectorals" to a female lead would at first appear to be fairly bland marketing gimmick to boost sales. After reading the book and thinking about it I believe that Marvel's decision is not only bold, but important. What makes this important is the thing that surprises me most about some of the reactions from fans and critics alike. I'm shocked that today, in 2015, we still have to come out and say that yes, in fact, <i>a woman </i>can<i> be worthy of the might of a god. </i><br />
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<br />basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-70953336056267831312015-02-16T23:00:00.000-08:002015-02-16T23:00:07.916-08:00Geek Speaking of Cowboy Science<h3>
Geek Speak: Cowboy and Hipster</h3>
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To be honest, I know next to nothing about Taylor Swift except <a href="http://m.fooyoh.com/iamchiq_living_lifestyle/13732565/12-times-taylor-swift-made-everyone-seem-like-a-hobbit" target="_blank">she's tall</a>, <a href="http://image.shutterstock.com/display_pic_with_logo/247744/100234922/stock-vector-dickhead-100234922.jpg" target="_blank">Kanye West</a> was once <a href="http://media.web.britannica.com/eb-media/93/132893-050-22EC5127.jpg" target="_blank">rude and extremely condescending</a> to her, and she tends to <a href="http://www.billboard.com/photos/1484087/taylor-swifts-boyfriend-timeline-10-relationships-their-songs?i=178647" target="_blank">write songs about break ups</a>. I only became aware of the song this strip is referencing through the <a href="http://youtu.be/Tv94swj4sjo" target="_blank">excellent cover</a> done by <a href="http://postmodernjukebox.com/" target="_blank">Postmodern Jukebox</a>. </div>
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I don't remember what the inspiration was for cowboy and hipster. It may be that I just started drawing Cowboy boasting that you can't take the country out of the cowboy, and I wanted a character who was as much the opposite of a cowboy as possible to take some of the wind out of his sails. Now that it's done I may have to explore this dynamic in some different settings. They might be be an especially good vehicle for exploring political humor. Cowboy's <a href="http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2015/02/02/the-gop-still-the-party-of-stupid.html" target="_blank">conservative politics</a> and earnestness would clash nicely with Hipster's <a href="http://patriotupdate.com/articles/can-liberals-really-stupid-apparently-can/" target="_blank">progressive world view</a> and sarcasm. </div>
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It'll probably be the subject of a future Geek Speak, but I really dislike these goofy, fancy, "old-fashioned" mustaches that have spread through hipster culture like a virulent <a href="http://www.cracked.com/blog/a-guide-to-the-modern-moustache/" target="_blank">scourge of mustache wax</a>. I tolerate them on a <a href="http://media.giphy.com/media/UpFG4rFadcYJW/giphy.gif" target="_blank">very few people</a>, and only because those very people wear the mustache really well, it fits their personality, and they're not doing it to make a fucking statement. On everyone else it just looks smug and pretentious. Unless you happen to be a turn of the century bartender or...I don't know...<a href="https://kelleepratt.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/lemmonasproffate1.jpg" target="_blank">Jack Lemmon</a> in <i>The Great Race, </i>then do us all a favor and, with apologies to Taylor Swift, <i>shave it off,</i> <i>SHAVE IT OFF!</i></div>
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I hate panel three. It looks like someone found a nozzle on Cowboy and used it to <a href="http://www.doney.net/aroundaz/DA_inflatable_cowboy.jpg" target="_blank">inflate him</a>. Even though Hipster still looks pretty good, the line between his jacket and pants is off from the other two panels. I guess this means I have some work to do in locking down the style for these two characters.</div>
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Next time: more semi-autobiographical content, because <i>I'm interesting, dammit!</i></div>
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As a side note, it was relatively easy to find a well written article making the case that the GOP is the party of "stupid" (an assertion I don't hold wholeheartedly, but works for the sake of hyperbole) that is supported with examples and facts, but really difficult to do it the other way around. In fact one of the search terms I tried, "liberal fruitcake" came back with results including facebook pages and a <i>white supremacist website! </i>yikes. Ultimately I settled on an extremely boring rant about the stupidity of liberals that spends the first several, meandering paragraphs in defense of calling liberals "stupid." Again, it works for hyperbole.</div>
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Tales from the Dad Zone</h3>
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Over the weekend of January 31st many of the museums in Los Angeles opened their doors for the public to come and enjoy their exhibits and displays for <i>free</i>. We don't get out into the city much, and this was too good an opportunity to pass up, so we jumped at the chance to give our children some exposure to what the museum community in Los Angeles has to offer. After looking at the list of museums that were opening their doors we decided to go to the California Science Center. It had the double benefit of being somewhere we hadn't been before, and being much more family friendly than, say, the Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA). We were not at all disappointed.</div>
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Among the best methods to incite frenzied outings among Los Angeles parents is for someplace like a museum or a zoo to announce they are offering free admission "for a limited time only." Knowing this, we planned to arrive as early as possible. Los Angeles is famous for its terrible traffic, and it doesn't take long after arriving here to realize this is not hyperbole. The highways are packed, and about every third car is being driven by some deluded maniac who believes beyond the shadow of a doubt that he (or she) is going to beat the traffic, <i>goddammit. </i>That's not such absolute truth that it might have been brought down from the top of a mountain on a stone tablet, but it applies often enough to be considered a guiding principle. We've lived here long enough that we avoid the highways where it's reasonable to do so, specifically because of this guiding principle. On this day we did not, however, have a choice, so I steeled myself for what was sure to be a terrifying experience playing "dodge the deluded maniac who thinks his Mercedes (BMW/Maserati/Lexus) makes him invincible." Imagine my surprise when we did not have to. The drive there was uneventful, even (dare I say it) pleasant. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Cp6648Vi1hkjwChypUSGwlbPHclovEZAA53NCjiDZkO6M1W0Wx7gR-EGhoZ3f-MLTuMrV5dRwxme3UyTy1HGJpCuULxUsk9W96Z8d71TRL7dhffrGx-1tNgb84_pNFwgi3ZuMg/s1600/A-12+Blackbird.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4Cp6648Vi1hkjwChypUSGwlbPHclovEZAA53NCjiDZkO6M1W0Wx7gR-EGhoZ3f-MLTuMrV5dRwxme3UyTy1HGJpCuULxUsk9W96Z8d71TRL7dhffrGx-1tNgb84_pNFwgi3ZuMg/s1600/A-12+Blackbird.JPG" height="238" width="320" /></a>We arrived at the Science Center, paid for parking (which was, sadly, not included in the "it's totally <br />
free today, come check us out" deal), and made our way to the main building. Before we could get there we were greeted by an A-12 Blackbird on display outside the Science Center. My reaction was the composed, mature sort of thing you would expect from an adult nearing his forties..."OMG A BLACKBIRD! TAKE MY PICTURE WITH IT!" My dad was an aviation enthusiast, and he passed some of that appreciation along to me, enough that I've always had a fascination for planes. In the world of military aircraft the Blackbird fleets are the next best thing to legendary. Eventually my family was able to peel me away from the majesty of that beautiful, beautiful aircraft, and we made our way to the Science Center itself.</div>
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Once inside we made our way to the second level and from there to one of the kids' "Discovery Zones" the museum has set up. Then Mildly Sensational and I relaxed while the offspring lost their little minds because of all the SCIENCE! The first stop was an exploration of different animals, and the displays had a number of different snakes, including a gorgeous five-foot-long boa constrictor (I don't think I've ever mentioned this, but I like snakes, I think they're neat). </div>
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From there we moved on to an exploration of transportation and what makes machines go. That exhibit includes an interactive display for what gives wings the lift that lets planes fly, and a working model of a V8 engine (apparently provided by Lexus, maker of fine cars for deluded maniacs on highways all over the world). </div>
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After that was a brief exploration of their air and space exhibits that included a Gemini space capsule. Mildly Sensational wanted to see those exhibits more than anything, but about that time both kids were getting to where they were all "science-d out." Girlchild was melting down, and boychild was trying to go to sleep in his stroller, a fact that earned us an odd mix of looks. They ranged from awww how sweet to, "OMG I would so never let MY kids act like THAT." I know for a fact that only people without kids indulge in the latter. We decided it was time to go home, but not before a stop in the gift store where we bought girlchild a weird toy ball that looks like a balloon sprouted tentacles, and I picked up a package of freeze dried "ice cream." I'd never had it before. It was like an extra-thick cookies-and-cream flavored cracker. </div>
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I took several things away from that morning adventure to the museum. The two big things are;<br />
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1.) The menu in the museum cafe is surprisingly good, even though the lines were too long for us to actually try anything, and, perhaps more importantly,<br />
2.) It was amazing to see my daughter getting excited about science.<br />
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There is a big push in education reform to produce more scientists, engineers, mathematicians, and the big thinkers for what everyone believes will be the in-demand jobs of the future (I have a different opinion about this, but I'll save that for a different post). While I am staunch and vocal supporter of arts education, I can see the value in encouraging kids to be excited by science, but that has to be tempered with something equally important. <i><u>It's not enough</u></i> to make sure kids are getting the best education in science and math possible. They have to be taught that it can be fun! They should learn there is joy in discovery! Without that, without the passion to propel them to careers in these fields, what will we really produce but a generation of well educated, maybe even skilled, but ultimately uninspired science and technology laborers?</div>
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basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-91296219505729250002015-01-28T21:11:00.002-08:002015-01-28T21:14:07.463-08:00Geek Speaking of Random Boobies<h3>
Geek Speak</h3>
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Ok. So it's been a long (June), long (July), long (August), Long (September), Long (November), LONG (December) time since I posted an update. Sorry about that. Daughter starting pre-school, coming home to two kids, working extra hours so I can take off a little early on Fridays; it all catches up with a guy sooner or later. I didn't mean to take such a long absence, but I also barely noticed it passing. I'm back now, and for the moment ready to get started with drawing the comics, making with the funny pages, and doodling myself silly...don't read too much into that last one.</div>
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I've been working on today's comic since July. I'll explain that in a bit, but it's fair to say I didn't expect it to take so long. This one takes a little building up to, so I've included the comics that lead up to it, since it's been a while and (sigh) I've changed the site since then, so it's not super-easy to go back and read the ones that came before. </div>
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Look no further than the backgrounds to understand why it took me from July until now to finish this comic. The posters, the statuettes, the covers, all of it was drawn, inked, and colored in painstaking detail...then reduced to fit on your screen so they're all blobs of pixels roughly distinguishable as what they're supposed to be. </div>
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Don't misunderstand me, the background elements and props were a lot of fun to draw. The comic book covers especially. The basic premise is there are three comic books on the market right now: <i>Batman, Wolverine, </i>and everything else. Most of everything else is made up of scantily clad women in a series of provocative poses around whom a barely plausible narrative has been loosely assembled. </div>
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I know I just said "loose" and "women" in the same sentence. If you're here because a your Google search included those terms...I don't know what to tell you...I draw comics.</div>
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For all that you can't really tell what they're supposed to be I'm really happy with the way the covers turned out. Below are the full-sized background elements so you can actually see what everything is supposed to look like. </div>
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Random Thoughts</h3>
Happiness is made of the moments when you can stop and listen for the sound the clouds make as they move across the sky.<br />
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...and everyone who knows me well is laughing at how deeply ironic that statement is coming from me...<br />
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When did buying lunch start to cost anywhere from $7 to $20 for a meal? I seem to remember being able to go out and get a halfway decent meal at lunchtime for no more than $5 to $10. At most I'd pay $15, but that was only at a nicer sit-down type restaurant <i>and</i> ordering a beer or something with my food. What the hell has happened that we've come to accept rising food costs without questioning where it's coming from or fighting against it?<br />
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I can't take credit for drawing this, but it is pretty much how I feel before getting out of bed every morning. I tell myself this is a good thing because it keeps me from becoming complacent. It's MY crutch and I LIKE it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0fwSeJDfUBmXWFrw2nWhaa4p30398e9oXMn2VUinpw5CzARnYVxcWlXeBwwHuO0KFed9-_aFn13PBv8iXUkFlv0DpLoptTg1C6I1J7MGMGkJhcYFGlWsA6ZLydTTLIm19kjMBUw/s1600/OMG+FAIL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0fwSeJDfUBmXWFrw2nWhaa4p30398e9oXMn2VUinpw5CzARnYVxcWlXeBwwHuO0KFed9-_aFn13PBv8iXUkFlv0DpLoptTg1C6I1J7MGMGkJhcYFGlWsA6ZLydTTLIm19kjMBUw/s1600/OMG+FAIL.jpg" height="278" width="320" /></a></div>
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Look! It's a picture
of boobies!</div>
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<a href="http://www.factzoo.com/sites/all/img/birds/two-blue-footed-boobies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.factzoo.com/sites/all/img/birds/two-blue-footed-boobies.jpg" height="287" width="320" /></a></div>
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I love boobies.basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-89351946556054765912014-06-29T23:02:00.000-07:002014-06-29T23:06:17.114-07:00Random Thoughts on New Layouts in the Dad Zone<h3>
<b>Random Thoughts</b></h3>
You live, you learn, and you learn to live with regret.<br />
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What? Not all of my random thoughts are going to be happy and/or funny.<br />
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<b>Tales from the Dad Zone</b></h3>
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Since my son was born I've learned a few new things, like how much I can really get done on less than six hours of sleep a night (hint, it's not as much as you would like to think). I've also learned that changing a boy's diaper has an entirely set of do's and don'ts, like don't lean to far over your son while changing him and <i>do </i>keep your mouth closed at all times. Most of all I've learned one seemingly strange, random piece of information. It's this: boys stink. Here I'm not talking metaphorically like, "raising a boy is hard tiring work that should be done by...someone else." No, I mean the literal olfactory sense of the word, "stink," as in "smells bad." Let the boy go two or three days between baths and you can smell him coming. My son has this tangy acidic funk. The first time I noticed it was in the kitchen, and I thought I'd accidentally got some balsamic vinegar on him after fixing dinner. Turns out it wasn't vinegar. When my son gets funky he smells like salad dressing.<br />
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New Layout</h3>
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I'm experimenting with a new layout, and I'll probably be tweaking it as I go. I'm not wild about displaying the full text of every post, but this layout does give me some flexibility that Blogger's dynamic themes do not. Most importantly it lets me add custom items to the sidebar. Like the "Donate" button, which I'll explain a little more, below. Until I settle on a look and configuration I like there will probably several changes over the next few days, weeks. Bear with me. It's my hope that it's leading to bigger and better things.<br />
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<b>That Money Thing</b></h3>
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A notable new addition to the sidebar is a "Donate" button. I'm a thirty-something lefty so I believe in net neutrality, and I believe that content on the Internet should be free, and I will do my best to continue to provide free comics, commentary, doodles, and...don't-les (for lack of a better non-word). What I've found over the lat couple of years of doing this is there are soft-costs associated with providing "free" content (with what Internet Service Providers charge it's more like paying for a monthly pass). Some of those costs include art supplies, getting a better website for <i>Geek Speak, </i>upgrading my digital capabilities, buying and learning new software, getting a better and/or second monitor, and (yes) my time. Further down the road map is merchandise like shirts, mugs, books, and prints, but a donate button is a step I can take right now. If you've enjoyed <i>Geek Speak, </i>sketch dumps, and my commentary, please think about pitching in the price of your favorite coffee drink at Starbucks.<br />
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Sketch Dump</h3>
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I'm not going to leave this post there like some kind of public broadcasting pledge drive (but seriously, I support public broadcasting). Here are more doodles from my notebooks at work. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLs2KfhExO418WBBreg_maI-bU53UOZ02BASk1Vq5Ng0iMej08-2cXNtjoI9tc5yRUC0aYmDzWhkLYAtV2QEZh64NzJgVdxw6lraKrzU_gQgksg0z2t9CbsAWtJzAkDHMgtq5t-A/s1600/Full+Metal+Alchemist_Gluttony_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLs2KfhExO418WBBreg_maI-bU53UOZ02BASk1Vq5Ng0iMej08-2cXNtjoI9tc5yRUC0aYmDzWhkLYAtV2QEZh64NzJgVdxw6lraKrzU_gQgksg0z2t9CbsAWtJzAkDHMgtq5t-A/s1600/Full+Metal+Alchemist_Gluttony_small.jpg" height="400" width="391" /></a></div>
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This handsome fellow is me taking a stab at drawing the character of "Gluttony" from <i>Full Metal Alchemist</i>. I don't watch a lot of anime, but I got hooked into this and <i>Attack on Titan</i> as a way to pass the time while feeding my son. In <i>Full Metal Alchemist</i> I really love the idea of equivalent exchange; the idea that you can't get something without giving something in return. The concept of this balancing force is a huge theme in the story of the Elric brothers. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9J2k0Ek-IP-G9bJaYvdxFLuea57n3t1pykNf1TdtpU-NmYTW6sfuP-v0rCxC3B2fG93y9Gs4PvgUW6xm2HAGop09e3NAquBsY7VlelYfAoN3jQ_lAKOhaKAyuGy4azDUbUI526Q/s1600/Extra+Extra_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9J2k0Ek-IP-G9bJaYvdxFLuea57n3t1pykNf1TdtpU-NmYTW6sfuP-v0rCxC3B2fG93y9Gs4PvgUW6xm2HAGop09e3NAquBsY7VlelYfAoN3jQ_lAKOhaKAyuGy4azDUbUI526Q/s1600/Extra+Extra_small.jpg" height="400" width="292" /></a></div>
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One of my projects required daily email notifications to go out to a list of users. To spice up the daily email to my co-worker on the communications team I started adding some of my drawings. After a while the text of the email messages started to reflect the theme of the drawing. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8xd4zVPFl2Ej7zYd208Cm8zhOP1aqeJ2CqTLNoq9OkxNNmzQTlZ3X7z3STEclqQB4Cjku7xO-GUDxL0cPtJWeYdctAqz4YYKXul1PhcCSCDfuwnvE9r56wApXG7F31o5Vqj-GUg/s1600/Fatale_brunette_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8xd4zVPFl2Ej7zYd208Cm8zhOP1aqeJ2CqTLNoq9OkxNNmzQTlZ3X7z3STEclqQB4Cjku7xO-GUDxL0cPtJWeYdctAqz4YYKXul1PhcCSCDfuwnvE9r56wApXG7F31o5Vqj-GUg/s1600/Fatale_brunette_small.jpg" height="233" width="320" /></a></div>
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Something that will probably become a recurring theme in my sketch dumps is "drawings I can't freely share around the office." This is one. It's not really "NSFW," but she is showing a lot of leg and some side-boob, which is...less than professional. In a way I couldn't help myself. I love the classic femme fatale in her elegant gown, perfect hair, holding a gun, and killing you slowly with a smoldering look. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLj_yQx_f7iSUdvbvsbswfgxeRbiBJJyReHPx9X1c-TwaNhPc8fPk9PfcuJoWzTYueDfc2CgmqZazMlIL1lt0vCS3zcsniL7jWcs_v1EtNQ2bEl6Dkpd6UO-gdeo-82d4GNYcwtA/s1600/A+certain+stuffed+tiger.tif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLj_yQx_f7iSUdvbvsbswfgxeRbiBJJyReHPx9X1c-TwaNhPc8fPk9PfcuJoWzTYueDfc2CgmqZazMlIL1lt0vCS3zcsniL7jWcs_v1EtNQ2bEl6Dkpd6UO-gdeo-82d4GNYcwtA/s1600/A+certain+stuffed+tiger.tif" height="305" width="320" /></a></div>
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Nothing much to say about this other than the obvious; I took a stab at drawing Hobbes from <i>Calvin and Hobbes. </i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfq48aTi8p6Lx5w-6iPmgPsABbqeYHSwyBoao97ZzKGeqPUXIl9dmJ1tjT5fufcYAE6B3fKyo8cPRunND4b4NxITvAjSs-h7WEy2fdwGjIpAHZGQmlXGNpWptAdn_7zKsfU4I-ng/s1600/Sci-Fi+Girl+with+Spear_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfq48aTi8p6Lx5w-6iPmgPsABbqeYHSwyBoao97ZzKGeqPUXIl9dmJ1tjT5fufcYAE6B3fKyo8cPRunND4b4NxITvAjSs-h7WEy2fdwGjIpAHZGQmlXGNpWptAdn_7zKsfU4I-ng/s1600/Sci-Fi+Girl+with+Spear_small.jpg" height="400" width="197" /></a></div>
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Started this out going for the titular character of the amazing <i>Battle Angel Alita</i> manga series. I didn't quite get there, but ended up liking the result nonetheless. </div>
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basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-51968790888148729662014-06-25T23:34:00.000-07:002014-06-25T23:34:52.055-07:00Massive Sketch Dumping on the New Job<h2>
Work-a-Doodle: Sketch Dumping on the New Job</h2>
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Since my son was born and I changed jobs I'm not posting near as much as I used to, or as much as I would like. That does <i>not</i> mean that my pencil has been idle. I've had my favorite tool gripped firmly in my right hand and giving it a workout and a regular basis. I know what that sounds like, try to keep in mind I'm talking about a pencil here...which somehow does not make that other sentence sound better. Moving on. </div>
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My new job doesn't give me much opportunity to sketch in my notebooks, and I've stopped sketching during meetings almost altogether. This is due in no small part to the fact that most meetings I'm in these days are ones I've scheduled, and dividing my attention between what's being said and a doodle of me trimming my nose hairs with a weed-whacker is no longer an option. What sketching I do manage is usually during lunch breaks, in the last fifteen to twenty minutes of the day, or when I can squeeze in a ten-minute breather. It doesn't sound like much, but drawing a line here and a line there really adds up over time. </div>
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<b>Earthworm Jim</b></div>
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I loved this game when it came out. At some point early into my new job I got the image of Earthworm Jim stuck in my head. It probably started when I doodled the space-faring, power-suit wearing, nightcrawling adventurer while waiting at the doctor's office for my name to be called. That started an Earthworm Jim drawing binge that lasted a couple of weeks. To be honest, I've always liked the look of this character, but until recently always struggled with drawing him. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicF_kvtKLAUsCVe6Qs_KhLemd1OwA81Rmg7ouSwF1ZHtOqYkqv6bndQd96nCN47mpyj0zyqKNsYa2Nmge6EeB9B6L4m-HbHdS6dLDY2NFICAjZ3nJq8WqAgybwugFmU43BgHuU8w/s1600/earthworm+jims.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicF_kvtKLAUsCVe6Qs_KhLemd1OwA81Rmg7ouSwF1ZHtOqYkqv6bndQd96nCN47mpyj0zyqKNsYa2Nmge6EeB9B6L4m-HbHdS6dLDY2NFICAjZ3nJq8WqAgybwugFmU43BgHuU8w/s1600/earthworm+jims.jpg" height="200" width="89" /></a></div>
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<b>Classic Comic Strip Reference for the Win!</b></div>
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This was one of the first doodles in my notebook at my new job, and the first that I posted to the Art and Design group on the company's Yammer site. One of my remote co-workers got the <i>Calvin and Hobbes </i>reference in under ten seconds.<br />
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<b>Super Heroes Doing Super Normal Things</b><br />
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It might just be me, but I find the idea of superheroes doing normal things kind of amusing. I just like to picture Captain America sitting in the commissary eating a sandwich. For some reason I think of him as a chicken salad sandwich kind of guy. </div>
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<b>There's Always Time for Dumb Office Jokes!</b></div>
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At work I can plan and track my projects in pretty much whichever way works best for me. All of the project managers on my team have the same flexibility. With that said, I think some project planning methods are more effective than others. </div>
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<b>Skin...Gone...Must have...Donut!</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG9SkacQovqvV14QREvmoiXjBKYrlLsnvx47nfMAoNydhqqoWLCQKr7V1SLfIe_048_IX_zLNLA4rEUIhPRAuTrRwzn_0MLl4A6jAbCW27A0Eccmm3EAukdAWhITU4EADJAm3Daw/s1600/Skinless+guy+wants+a+donut_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG9SkacQovqvV14QREvmoiXjBKYrlLsnvx47nfMAoNydhqqoWLCQKr7V1SLfIe_048_IX_zLNLA4rEUIhPRAuTrRwzn_0MLl4A6jAbCW27A0Eccmm3EAukdAWhITU4EADJAm3Daw/s1600/Skinless+guy+wants+a+donut_small.jpg" height="310" width="320" /></a></div>
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It's probably just me, but I look at this and I think, "now there is a skinless man in unspeakable agony. I bet he could really use a donut." </div>
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<b>My Unscheduled Manager Meeting Face</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5zdbyhAMit8lw7S3-likYG6wL0xJems1eUhJ8L-UJHpfK1sb7ftIlK2MsYYb8N7nuXRxv_ItNPjodN5rW_e6FH-iiwpv9OQKwNW6tmZVVxFRoHI6L3JBqOK9YgGBzUuZlDrwtIA/s1600/Oh+fuck+face_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5zdbyhAMit8lw7S3-likYG6wL0xJems1eUhJ8L-UJHpfK1sb7ftIlK2MsYYb8N7nuXRxv_ItNPjodN5rW_e6FH-iiwpv9OQKwNW6tmZVVxFRoHI6L3JBqOK9YgGBzUuZlDrwtIA/s1600/Oh+fuck+face_small.jpg" height="320" width="316" /></a></div>
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This is pretty much what I'm doing on the inside whenever my manager sends me a message in Lync that says "do you have a minute? Please come to my office." She's never given me a reason to be filled with dread at the idea of her summons, bit it's there every time, nonetheless.</div>
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<b>Princess Anna</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5plm0hY6RKCvDgR3YA_fmwQekCidsnutywNLh_Z7s4BgmIwCoVteXJOWqFxE5BfCfE3VTtCJkOUEgwANasVyHf1oQtWqrNgN7wbjAtKGOlNRTb4m2nTAnvsDzvGi7Ug9GX6NSEw/s1600/Anna_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5plm0hY6RKCvDgR3YA_fmwQekCidsnutywNLh_Z7s4BgmIwCoVteXJOWqFxE5BfCfE3VTtCJkOUEgwANasVyHf1oQtWqrNgN7wbjAtKGOlNRTb4m2nTAnvsDzvGi7Ug9GX6NSEw/s1600/Anna_small.jpg" height="320" width="318" /></a></div>
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From that animated film about ice and princesses with that song that my daughter seems compelled to sing at all hours of the day and night (sigh). I drew this character because everybody is drawing Elsa, even when they're <a href="http://jollyjack.deviantart.com/art/Forgettably-Frozen-445972071" target="_blank">not being exactly complimentary</a>. Drawing Anna seemed like a good way to stand out. </div>
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<b>You Can't be a Winner Every Day</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggco7-184RJyA5lh1XYjyXl-r1bc5ptQZUgr-zU-kQVFhJmOnE0v7oQKAu4uNOZlSAjsGEdQQYn4QAbd6hZmGhVUnQhaQYDWkR_UXKhDE9W2V07VAXyyel68epnr3-qvVfNoIpqQ/s1600/Giving+up+guy_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggco7-184RJyA5lh1XYjyXl-r1bc5ptQZUgr-zU-kQVFhJmOnE0v7oQKAu4uNOZlSAjsGEdQQYn4QAbd6hZmGhVUnQhaQYDWkR_UXKhDE9W2V07VAXyyel68epnr3-qvVfNoIpqQ/s1600/Giving+up+guy_small.jpg" height="400" width="270" /></a></div>
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You can't knock things out of the park every day, and not every day at a new job is going to be a good one. I think that's that kind of day I was having when I drew this. </div>
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<b>I Give Myself Very Good Advice...</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM8IZi_j0XTdRsn-v01D9ohx891CY2M5OfmWPfsDsop2YQh5Pm34HftzJc9SzK5AxGc-O63-ELZXdShoptgD9b5PjBR2sMLB9iFulRDj3gnPFbWZNQco8SHyfSsI9o5TIxqc_rOg/s1600/I+still+struggle+with+this_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM8IZi_j0XTdRsn-v01D9ohx891CY2M5OfmWPfsDsop2YQh5Pm34HftzJc9SzK5AxGc-O63-ELZXdShoptgD9b5PjBR2sMLB9iFulRDj3gnPFbWZNQco8SHyfSsI9o5TIxqc_rOg/s1600/I+still+struggle+with+this_small.jpg" height="222" width="400" /></a></div>
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...but I very seldom follow it. I'm still struggling with this. I was conditioned for years to hit "reply" or "reply all" as soon as I received an email; to give that <i>immediate </i>feedback. As it turns out that's a really, deeply terrible way to work. It sets an expectation with people that you're going to respond right away to whatever they send you, you might be answering a question that was really meant for someone else on the email, and most importantly, responding right away doesn't give you time to really <i>think about the answer</i>. </div>
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<b>More Dumb Office Humor</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpBTWReInSLCDpTck7U3Ggp6ZhcqLTIexWK1foZDe356gr4SrbzbYmw1IS-ewhp29HeUhS1P2ziN-sMgmAzHyUJT4lduOuB64qJOtJlE9lu-jt0ykfyC08iTYYkSMkVQu-3fKLmw/s1600/Mobile+Jam_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpBTWReInSLCDpTck7U3Ggp6ZhcqLTIexWK1foZDe356gr4SrbzbYmw1IS-ewhp29HeUhS1P2ziN-sMgmAzHyUJT4lduOuB64qJOtJlE9lu-jt0ykfyC08iTYYkSMkVQu-3fKLmw/s1600/Mobile+Jam_small.jpg" /></a></div>
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One of the managers went to an event called "Mobile Jam." This is what popped into my head when he said it. I'm not proud of it. </div>
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<b>The Albatross</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Jp07VfBTV5L1c1jhwK7_lGMFx01xIi-ofv_K46A13LRs3K7BF2-k_WEBg-AG9gLXWhGRo0RdUEwkQ4jQkoVkZn-sakkUT4Y4HUbf-1FZ70vYBBOJNCXXWffpMPsbum34VsPCtA/s1600/Project+Doldrums_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Jp07VfBTV5L1c1jhwK7_lGMFx01xIi-ofv_K46A13LRs3K7BF2-k_WEBg-AG9gLXWhGRo0RdUEwkQ4jQkoVkZn-sakkUT4Y4HUbf-1FZ70vYBBOJNCXXWffpMPsbum34VsPCtA/s1600/Project+Doldrums_small.jpg" /></a></div>
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Someone must have shot the IT equivalent of an albatross, because one of my projects really was not going anywhere for a long time. The name of the project used to be in the sign over "my" head in this picture. I removed it before posting this to avoid any awkwardness at work, but I think this might become my standard image for projects that are stuck, or fail to launch for reasons outside of my control. </div>
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<b>Amelia: Student Witch</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS0zIF7qx3H5Bzp2z2jZTOCy5-snivP7yjLhok_fV2KIkJpAAS1f-AMH5MYmqWIAf8ew7qy5DUEToG9Ln_cNOay2Se55ooGFdu2U8lkmvphJL0koauwPgBuUAmDD3wDgwZC0PT4w/s1600/Amelia+and+Brian.tif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS0zIF7qx3H5Bzp2z2jZTOCy5-snivP7yjLhok_fV2KIkJpAAS1f-AMH5MYmqWIAf8ew7qy5DUEToG9Ln_cNOay2Se55ooGFdu2U8lkmvphJL0koauwPgBuUAmDD3wDgwZC0PT4w/s1600/Amelia+and+Brian.tif" height="400" width="217" /></a></div>
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A couple of my original characters. Neither of them is exactly what they appear at first glance.</div>
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<b>There's a Sad Vader in All of Us</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjzvGTGtKj_YSvy-WYpBfnMNeTQ9k5spyVLqSFI953tv9Uz0IfrOkRbXc1FEVUFVjSLuw4ZHMw1b6Q5hsGot3lAZkKpneEmiVxTw4wd9ACM6XW5aolAqTOChyphenhyphenDeHDS0WFkMSs16Q/s1600/Sad+Baby+Vader_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjzvGTGtKj_YSvy-WYpBfnMNeTQ9k5spyVLqSFI953tv9Uz0IfrOkRbXc1FEVUFVjSLuw4ZHMw1b6Q5hsGot3lAZkKpneEmiVxTw4wd9ACM6XW5aolAqTOChyphenhyphenDeHDS0WFkMSs16Q/s1600/Sad+Baby+Vader_small.jpg" height="361" width="400" /></a></div>
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Based at least in part on that "Vader Kid" Super Bowl commercial from a few years ago. </div>
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<b>Emo Guy: Disaffected Superhero</b> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaI2lVn62g96ctIYyMizD8j2IGKemC3Sfc3R6Z7anC8sfEJbIrs0hC2DWvtdez_wwn_RT46Am5ImxBHrRAxl3-nwofY_bJdrM3L3q3QMVYvcwfkGLwC5ue8A5Ukmpgg54xS2oxaQ/s1600/Annoying+emo+guy_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaI2lVn62g96ctIYyMizD8j2IGKemC3Sfc3R6Z7anC8sfEJbIrs0hC2DWvtdez_wwn_RT46Am5ImxBHrRAxl3-nwofY_bJdrM3L3q3QMVYvcwfkGLwC5ue8A5Ukmpgg54xS2oxaQ/s1600/Annoying+emo+guy_small.jpg" height="400" width="331" /></a></div>
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He's super morose and draws his power from a magic electronic cigarette.</div>
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<b>Says it All</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNgOURp4MgvG_TyLZviDrSjBjhjJ72V8n1bZ2qHXoOUISbElDJh2fZ_I7I_566CoKdn-KGhyphenhyphenrcWPh9QI0ogMWYs_xUn4KK2bH9f-QfWB7TP2XE0E2tF3MNfajO61qaMx1r9xJ3-g/s1600/FRIDAY_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNgOURp4MgvG_TyLZviDrSjBjhjJ72V8n1bZ2qHXoOUISbElDJh2fZ_I7I_566CoKdn-KGhyphenhyphenrcWPh9QI0ogMWYs_xUn4KK2bH9f-QfWB7TP2XE0E2tF3MNfajO61qaMx1r9xJ3-g/s1600/FRIDAY_small.jpg" height="400" width="388" /></a></div>
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To avoid any possible confusion, that is a suit jacket that is flying open and that's a blouse underneath. She's not topless under the jacket. </div>
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basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-23081526486035790702014-06-10T20:46:00.000-07:002014-06-10T20:46:24.935-07:00Geek Speaking of Three Year Old Intuition<h3>
Geek Speak: Hell hath no fury!</h3>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiathEkxclzI0RbYTdMy4TNJbe43rApg4ZsuUXoBe0yStrK9b4F8KcJhdDt7X3VNHIO3mOGq0d-5Xt-PCNpyCO6-k0ElSICVONtIWsJ5JFIniN-ei4A7uLl7jgCjQBzAa5drYouuA/s1600/Amelia+and+Trevor+Classroom+Frog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiathEkxclzI0RbYTdMy4TNJbe43rApg4ZsuUXoBe0yStrK9b4F8KcJhdDt7X3VNHIO3mOGq0d-5Xt-PCNpyCO6-k0ElSICVONtIWsJ5JFIniN-ei4A7uLl7jgCjQBzAa5drYouuA/s1600/Amelia+and+Trevor+Classroom+Frog.jpg" height="291" width="640" /></a></div>
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Like a teenage witch hit with a spitball apparently. This started with a drawing of a little witch sitting in one of those awful desks that kids get wedged into from elementary through middle school. I got the idea after I'd already drawn Amelia at her desk in one of my smaller sketchbooks, so it was a challenge to try to draw her again. Not long after I started working on this comic strip these characters started to take on a life of their own. I don't want to say anything definite, yet, but look for there to be more of Amelia. </div>
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This was originally going to be a final post on WonderCon, but after so much time everything that took place at the convention in April has kind of (or completely) lost its immediacy, if not its relevancy. That and the finishing work on this strip damn near killed me. I don't work with color too terribly often, so it's pretty rough, but I wanted her magic to be something...well...magical. </div>
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Tales from the Dad Zone</h3>
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It is not my intention to turn this into a daddy blog. There are other, better blogs out there in the world for that. Despite my best intentions, I don't think I'll be able to help it creeping in. Fatherhood is such a huge part of my life, and occupies so much of my thinking right now. Plus, were it not for one of my little ones, the strip above might not have happened.</div>
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I was feeling pretty bleak about the prospects of my being able to continue with any creative endeavor, let alone the strip. There are so many demands on my time between the job and the family that I just had started to feel like it would be best to put away the pencils, the pens, and the sketchbooks and focus on providing as much security for my family as is within my power. These thoughts and darker swirled around in the space between my ears that I charitably call my mind as I was doing dishes and I progressively felt more like shit. </div>
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In the midst of my preparations for artistic seppuku I heard my daughter walk up behind me, which is not altogether unusual when I'm in the kitchen. </div>
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"Daddy," she said, "Daddy this yours. This yours, daddy." </div>
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I turned around my daughter was looking at me very seriously and holding out...my sketchbook. The very thing I had just been thinking about putting away and never touching again. </div>
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"This yours daddy." </div>
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I took it from her and thanked her. She said, "you're welcome" and then flitted off somewhere to do the important work that all three year old children know is the stuff that binds the universe together. </div>
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She left me standing in the kitchen, holding my sketchbook, stunned by what had just happened. That day I sat down and started drawing new strips. By the end of the weekend I had completed the pencils for six new strips. I don't know if my daughter is magic, or that was some kind of amazing cosmic coincidence, but in her small way, whether she meant to or not, my daughter reminded me that I can never give up. </div>
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basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-33531573002797595432014-06-04T21:56:00.000-07:002014-06-04T21:56:59.713-07:00Conning of Wonder a Story in Pictures II<h2>
Conning More Wonder from Photos</h2>
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It's now officially more than a month since the end of WonderCon and I'm still posting about it. While not exactly timely I hope it is at least a little enjoyable. The second and third days of WonderCon yielded many more opportunities to catch photos of people in gorgeously elaborate costumes, or just gorgeous people in costume...you'll see what I mean. I was also able to attend a few interesting panels, and more than a couple that were a complete waste of time. Overall I had an amazing weekend and walked away with a few one of a kind mementos. Here are some more of my photos.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkNeD6n3nXDV5gf8GUXfzIAhAyk5wHqvLpmNwMdw16WnegD4H0XOSVsSghCsrt7e9SobsOJmceIJGUs7ZUz_FaFKgMkj4FDsN5IxKn5kiixhpII7dpa8qUOenbSsNrnTT-bT2PRw/s1600/WC2014+Ninth+Doctor+Squared_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkNeD6n3nXDV5gf8GUXfzIAhAyk5wHqvLpmNwMdw16WnegD4H0XOSVsSghCsrt7e9SobsOJmceIJGUs7ZUz_FaFKgMkj4FDsN5IxKn5kiixhpII7dpa8qUOenbSsNrnTT-bT2PRw/s1600/WC2014+Ninth+Doctor+Squared_small.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
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Anyone who follows Doctor Who has "their doctor" for me and Mildly Sensational it's the fourth doctor. He's the one we remember from being kids and our parents let us watch Doctor Who for the first time. In both cases the show scared the dickens out of us with all of its monsters and crazy over the top action. These guys clearly like the ninth Doctor played by Chris Eccleston. That or they like leather jackets and buzz cuts. The best part of their cosplay was the Dalek. It was built around a dolly so they could wheel it around with them. </div>
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If not the best <i>Star Wars</i> themed costume I saw that weekend, it was certainly the most badass. I heard some of my fellow geeks call this guy "dark Mandalorian" and he was getting a lot of attention from fanboys with cameras, though probably not as much as...</div>
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...this lady's hammer. Seriously. Look at the size of that thing. How does she lift it with such tiny arms? I bet swinging that thing causes her some serious back pain. She attracted a lot of attention for...obvious reasons. I know she wanted to move freely around the con because shortly after this picture was taken she told the clot that had formed around her, "I would <i>like to keep moving now." </i>I didn't see her after this so I can only assume that she must have gone back to her car or hotel room at some point to change into something less...conspicuous. Ok. I have to get this out of my system, "BEHOLD! IT IS THE LADY OF THE STORM HERSELF! THE MIGHTY THORINA THUNDERBOOBS!" There I said it. Moving on. </div>
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Easily one of my favorite costumes of the weekend, if not my absolute favorite. This young lady's Astrid from <i>How to Train Your Dragon </i>was absolutely spot on, and it was fun getting this picture of her holding the axe out toward the camera. The pose and the attitude were perfect. I don't know if she was there for the masquerade or not. If so I hope she did pretty well.</div>
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He claws outward, grasping at relevancy. Saturday really did have some great costumes. His is the only <i>Spawn </i>costume I've seen out of three conventions, and it was pretty much flawless. The only way I can think of to make it more accurate would have been for him to pull of the mask and reveal that he's actually Michael Jai White. </div>
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I spotted these three getting their photos taken by a couple of guys with gear that looked they were at the con as professional photographers for another blog or news site. I managed to sneak in and get a couple of pictures. After asking Astrid to hold her axe out toward the camera I had a lot of fun getting similar "action poses" from other cosplayers. It's fun to get pictures of their costumes, sure, but I think the effect is better if you can get them doing something active. </div>
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No convention would be complete without t least one Wolverine. It seems like he's in just about every other title from the M branch of the big two, so I'm honestly a little surprised there weren't more. As good as this costume was there was one other guy there who was built like Thor, but was sporting the claws and weird haircut of everyone's favorite human blender with rage issues. His was the best Wolverine costume of the day, but this guy was a close second.<br />
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<b>Gifts</b><br />
Saturday was the day I set aside to do shopping for friends and family. When I knew that WonderCon was coming up I reached out to some dear friends living in Boulder and asked if there was anything they wanted. They gave me a few ideas and I headed to the Con looking for the perfect gifts for my Colorado brother-from-another-mother and his family. In my search I stumbled across a booth that was selling a number of comic books with blank cardstock covers. These are becoming more popular as collectibles because they allow you to take them to a favorite artist and get them personalized with one-of-a-kind cover art. I picked up four. Three to go back to Colorado and one for myself. For my friends in Colorado I picked up <i>Uncanny X-Men</i>, <i>Avengers, </i>and <i>Superman Unchained</i>. For myself I picked up <i>The Shadow</i>. Below are the finished covers and links to the artist's websites.<br />
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<i>Uncanny X-Men</i> by <a href="http://www.fig-studios.com/" target="_blank">Josh Figueroa</a><br />
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<i>Avengers</i> cover by <a href="http://briannacherrygarcia.tumblr.com/tagged/art" target="_blank">Brianna Garcia</a> </div>
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A breath taking cover for <i>Superman Unchained </i>by <a href="http://rm73.deviantart.com/gallery/" target="_blank">Ruben Martinez</a><br />
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And a little something for me: <i>The Shadow</i>, cover by the only artist I know outside of WonderCon, the terrific <a href="http://artofant.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Anthony Diecidue</a><br />
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basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-13288830304061976802014-05-14T23:43:00.003-07:002014-05-14T23:43:42.843-07:00Conning of Wonder a Story in Pictures<h2>
<b>Conning of Wonder in Photos</b></h2>
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When it's almost a month past the event it's probably too late to tell a Con Story that will mean anything. For the record, it's not for a lack of wanting to post, or a lack of something to say. Even when I don't have something specific to write about I can always fill the space with paragraphs of gibberish like "Flerpy werpy derpy floop!" There are nights I get home from work when it feels like that's about all the mental juice I have, anyway. I digress. A picture is worth a thousand words so I thought I would share a few thousand words worth of photos from my weekend at Wonder Con.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hINxLrPvvZ2a_zzC4HuXQFL-AAWEZgCqopg1LXMr75cOEDte9H3AB-lO7plWdcV6Um7zppiK_TZNxKRmaj9GHU-r69ewN_1wA77S8E32oQUB9XnQ_BW4MmQiuVDVuEB1ZWjPIw/s1600/Wonder+Con+2014+Courtyard+1_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hINxLrPvvZ2a_zzC4HuXQFL-AAWEZgCqopg1LXMr75cOEDte9H3AB-lO7plWdcV6Um7zppiK_TZNxKRmaj9GHU-r69ewN_1wA77S8E32oQUB9XnQ_BW4MmQiuVDVuEB1ZWjPIw/s1600/Wonder+Con+2014+Courtyard+1_small.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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Anaheim's convention center has a couple of really nice courtyard areas with fountains and palm trees. At one point in the afternoon I went out on one of the balconies to get some air and to call the family. While I did my best to decipher what my daughter was trying to tell me in the secret language of three-year-olds I took this picture looking out over the courtyard. It looks like there are a lot of people hanging out, waiting in line at the food trucks, and running between panels at the convention. This is not a lot of people. Take all the people pictured here and increase the density of the crowd by about fifty percent and you'll just about get to how crowded it gets at Comic Con.<br />
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Easily one of the best things about Wonder Con in Anaheim is the number of people in costume. Every one of my friends who attended this year commented on the number of cosplayers and the quality of the work put into their costumes. I saw these two as I was walking back in from having some lunch. Hers was the best Poison Ivy I saw the entire weekend. He was a pretty decent take on a male Harley Quinn. The best thing about this moment happened when I walked away. A couple of little boys, who could not have been older than seven or eight, were there wearing a Robin and a Spider-Man costume. Both little boys ran up to these two and asked to have their picture taken with them. Poison and Harley both lit up and posed for a series of pictures with the tiny superheroes. From where I was standing on the outside I couldn't tell who was enjoying it more.<br />
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I took this picture on Friday, then ran into him again on Sunday and had the chance to talk with him. It turns out he's in the service, and everything he's wearing and carrying here is the genuine article, including the rifle. It was rendered inoperable for the purposes of the convention. It's funny in a way that in a gathering of people dressed as their favorite fantasy heroes there is a real one walking around almost unnoticed.<br />
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Comic book conventions are hardly limited to comic books. The experience just would not be the same without the occasional TIE pilot waving a fist at you. I'm sure he's judging me from behind that mask.<br />
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Doctor Who is nearly as big a deal at the convention as Star Wars. She was dressed as "Sexy" the mind and soul of the TARDIS in the body of a woman from an episode of Doctor Who that was written by Neil Gaiman. </div>
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It might look like there are only a couple of reasons why I took a photo of this costume, and there are. I recognized her as the bartender from "Poker Night at the Inventory 2," an indie game from Telltale Games, and if you know the game she nailed the costume.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5TJM6K4Tky1Pgt3i9XdnX4av3qQ3ugNZ0vUgFmIGcfkA4j13NezB-ZJ9O1rG-eUBK96v25IEXWJg54xWDQTMpS2UN1xAUQJEmH3GpJsq2khkZnQ_2YR3IkqOlJ3MmuVtbFx4kSg/s1600/WCA2014+Steampunk+Gunslingers_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5TJM6K4Tky1Pgt3i9XdnX4av3qQ3ugNZ0vUgFmIGcfkA4j13NezB-ZJ9O1rG-eUBK96v25IEXWJg54xWDQTMpS2UN1xAUQJEmH3GpJsq2khkZnQ_2YR3IkqOlJ3MmuVtbFx4kSg/s1600/WCA2014+Steampunk+Gunslingers_small.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></div>
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These two were wearing what I think are the best costumes I saw all weekend. They are not any characters in particular, and the best description I can come up with to give them is "Steampunk Space Gunslingers." All of the pieces were either purchased or hand made.<br />
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There are more pictures from that weekend, but they'll have to wait until this tired ass dad has had some sleep.basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32205289.post-53617278711410688352014-04-27T23:00:00.000-07:002014-04-27T23:00:05.178-07:00The Conning of Wonder 2014<h3>
Anaheim WonderCon, 2014</h3>
The weekend of the 18th through the 20th was an amazing, colorful, and inspirational time at the annual <a href="http://www.comic-con.org/wca" target="_blank">WonderCon</a> comic book convention in Anaheim, California. there is a lot I would like to talk about, but for the sake of sanity and not dragging things out too long I'm going to try to condense things into two blog posts. In this post I'll talk about the highs and the few lows of each day, and I'll follow that up with a post featuring some of the photos of cosplayers I took during the convention.<br />
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That's what I meant to do, anyway. Oh well. I'll try to condense things a little more when I talk about Saturday and Sunday.<br />
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<b>Leading up to WonderCon</b><br />
In the days and weeks leading up to WonderCon I grew increasingly excited. When I attended in 2013, WonderCon changed my life. It was that WonderCon where, for the first time in as long as I can remember, I felt as though I were somewhere I belonged. I didn't have to pretend to be someone else to get approval, or behave in a certain way so that I could get a paycheck, I could just be. This year was about trying to recapture that feeling.<br />
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<b>Friday, April 18th</b><br />
One major difference between this year and last is I didn't have a <a href="http://www.bigplanetcomics.com/wp/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/tinytyrantcover.jpg" target="_blank">six month old infant</a> in the house and all the demands that go along with a baby. One of the joys of being the parent when one or more of your kids is still a baby is playing "<a href="http://www.grinky.com/assets/images/2008/10/20080927_sleeping.jpg" target="_blank">sleep roulette</a>." You never know when one of the young ones is going to wake up needing to be fed, or changed, or just because he decided it was play time. At 3:00 in the morning on the Friday of WonderCon my son decided it was a great time for that latter. He woke up and we did our usual thing. He got fed, and changed, and then I spent the next half hour trying to get him to go to sleep again. He was having none of it. He just grinned and sucked his fist in response to my bouncing, and pacing, and shushing. After half an hour of that I gave up and put him down on his play mat to squirm, and roll, and gnaw on things to his little heart's content. It wasn't until 4:30 that he finally started making the noises I associate with reaching "I'm tired now dammit!" and I was able to put him to bed. My night's sleep was completely shot. As a result instead of waking up early so I could be on the road no later than 7:30 or 8:00, I woke up at 8:00. As a thank you to my wife for letting me abandon her with the kids for three days (though I would be home in the evenings) I made breakfast that morning, so I didn't ultimately get on the road to Anaheim until after 9:00. If you ever been to a convention you know this basically means you're dooming yourself to waiting in an <a href="https://static.squarespace.com/static/51b3dc8ee4b051b96ceb10de/51ce6099e4b0d911b4489b79/51ce6191e4b0d911b44987d3/1310266082617/1000w/CClines.jpeg" target="_blank">everlasting line</a> just to get in the door.<br />
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The drive to Anaheim was mercifully easy. Part of that had to be that it was Friday at a time when most people are already at work for the day. Part of it had to be that it was also Good Friday. Once I arrived, the real fun started. The convention center had everyone arranged into four queues to get into the parking structure. The lines moved one car at a time as the car at the front paid at the booth and were allowed to go forward. That was the first line I had to get through. I flirted outrageously with the nice old lady in the parking attendant booth, paid for parking, and found a spot, but didn't pay much attention to where it was...which becomes important not much later.<br />
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After parking I made my way outside. Sure enough, the line to get in was the length of the convention center, wrapped down the block, and doubled back on itself. The line was for everyone. Professional guests like me and paid ticket holders alike. So I settled in for the "<a href="http://www.buckeyeinteractive.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/simpsons-waiting-game.jpg" target="_blank">hurry up and wait</a>" phase of my day. Keep in mind that in the absence of sleep everything I'm doing is fueled by coffee and determination. In this case I was lucky enough to be in line with people who were open to talking and joking and generally keeping things light while we waited. One of the people in line with me was a young woman (am I really old enough to use that without irony? shit.) named Tiffany who has her own business making Disney-themed custom merchandise. Her wares are available on the web through this site: <a href="http://whosits.bigcartel.com/">http://whosits.bigcartel.com</a>/ She was a paid attendee. It may be just my opinion, but I think it possible that she has a better case for attending on a complimentary professional pass than some old geek who draws a silly little comic strip.<br />
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The line eventually moved inside and I split off from my fellow queue compatriots. I was there as a <i><a href="http://www.vividus.com.au/sites/default/files/background/background_images-professional.jpg" target="_blank">professional</a> </i>after all! Certainly the registration process would pay deference to my elevated status and move me and my fellow comics professionals through with an appropriate level of urgency. No. Professional registrations were divided into five or six queues based on last name, and mine happened to be the longest of the five or six queues for professional registration. Such is the price of having a last name near the beginning of the alphabet. If my last name were Zacharias I'd have been in and done in five minutes. As it was my Queue Compatriots passed me going in the other direction, their newly acquired passes dangling from lanyards around their necks.<br />
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Slow thought it might have been moving I did eventually make my way to the head of the professional line ending with the last name of "Cruz," and picked up both my passes and my two guest passes. From there I was directed into a third line where professionals and their guests were told to wait for entrance to the convention. I was in that line for maybe fifteen minutes before they let us onto the convention floor, a full fifteen minutes ahead of the regular attendees, whom I shall lovingly refer to as "<a href="https://c2.staticflickr.com/8/7005/6854094643_f98c031a3e_z.jpg" target="_blank">rabble</a>" (no, I won't, I just wanted to say "rabble").<br />
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<a href="http://forbiddenpanel.com/PanelCast/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6vhFaJyZXgOCtJLijeshwatfnCtnEzn2TgtRgJNsYKLQUdG8xbjfpvZHfe8iObU5q7uFatOjoptKWol15remGn_QQ9bRyvAbTFoT9kjob2NGhtDkLFQYuPoq3zVKv9xES4AbzSQ/s1600/ZKS+Issue+One_small.jpg" height="200" width="130" /></a>When I began I had every noble intention of exercising some <a href="http://www.experian.com/blogs/news/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/frugal1.png" target="_blank">spending discipline</a>. I was going to save my ducats, dammit! My money would not change hands until Sunday when the deals would be plentiful and the vendors desperate to unload stock so they wouldn't have to <i>carry it back to the truck</i>. <a href="http://hiphopsince1987.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/krujay-big-spender-HHS1987-2013.jpg" target="_blank">No</a>. Inside of the first half an hour I'd already spent $50, a third of my budget for the day. In the process, however, I did get to meet the very cool Justin White, AJ Herrera, and Andrea LaBartunek who were holding down the fort at the <a href="http://forbiddenpanel.com/PanelCast/" target="_blank">Forbidden Panel</a> booth. I picked up three issues of their title <i>Zombie Kill Squad </i>and a great print of an <br />
illustration of Maleficent. It came up that I have my little comic strip, and they asked to see it. I'll definitely be following up on that.<br />
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From there I made my way over to the area that, to me, is the whole reason for the convention in the first place. I'm speaking, of course, of that haven of talented dreamers and ambitious go-getters. I'm speaking of <a href="http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2013/204/9/4/comic_con_abcs_v_by_spyed-d6epv8s.jpg" target="_blank">Artist's Alley</a>. Maybe it's because WonderCon is smaller than Comic Con overall, but Artist's Alley at WonderCon felt like it was bigger, with more artists than the big summer convention. The less expensive booth fees for WonderCon probably have something to do with that.<br />
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My first stop was at the booth of Brianna Garcia, where I picked up a print of one of my favorite pieces of her work. It's kind of a silly thing with Rapunzel and Spider-Man, but it will go great in my daughter's room, and it's something she will appreciate more as she gets older. Brianna, for her part, was getting off to a rough start to the Con. She had lost her voice the day before (Thursday) and couldn't talk. I made some lame crack about communicating with semaphore as I waved my arms over my head. She was gracious enough not to charge extra for humoring the lousy joke.<br />
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After embarrassing myself, but picking up a great piece of original art, it was about time for the first panel of the convention, a discussion featuring cartoon luminary Sergio Aragones where he would be talking about some upcoming projects. Before going to my panel I thought it prudent to drop my purchases off in the car.<br />
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Remember when I said I hadn't slept and the only things keeping me vertical were <a href="http://www.improve-your-sleep.com/images/effects-of-sleep-deprivation.jpg" target="_blank">coffee and willpower</a>? It's amazing what fatigue will do to your judgement. I spent the next hour wandering the bowels of the <a href="http://www.astrolog.org/labyrnth/snap/maze1.jpg" target="_blank">parking garage</a> looking for my car. Such was the extent of my fatigue induced lack of judgement I did two laps past the same parked cars, then went outside, came back in a different entrance (albeit closer to the one I had used on my arrival) and proceeded to make at least <i>two more laps </i>around what was <i>clearly</i> the wrong parking level. I did eventually work out that my car was probably parked on a different level. After reaching that critical epiphany I found my car within about ten minutes, but had lost an hour and completely missed the Sergio Aragones panel. Evidently suffering more from sleep deprivation than I first thought I rested in the car for about an hour then fueled up with another cup of coffee.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfn5Hbwk8zQVdwDP4cz8ciAva5jWLxkdrJekv3_XrD2suQScg95g3-xYJmnG3hpvzHGh_e6-QAk8iBW44HLmE0v-WC3zJAbtsDNyTsjXahJoVV471YBFKm-D3nPjoS6GWLfoURng/s1600/img-kesinger_8.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Not the print I bought, but representative of Kesinger's brilliant artwork." border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfn5Hbwk8zQVdwDP4cz8ciAva5jWLxkdrJekv3_XrD2suQScg95g3-xYJmnG3hpvzHGh_e6-QAk8iBW44HLmE0v-WC3zJAbtsDNyTsjXahJoVV471YBFKm-D3nPjoS6GWLfoURng/s1600/img-kesinger_8.png" height="215" title="" width="400" /></a>On re-entering the con I noticed the first table inside the door belonged to the very gifted <a href="http://www.bkartonline.com/" target="_blank">Brian Kessinger</a>. <i>Walking your Octopus: A Guidebook to the Domesticated Cephalopod</i>. The book is published by Baby Tattoo books and available from Amazon. As it turns out Brian is a super nice guy, and it was fun talking to him since we both work for Disney and having that in common was a built-in ice-breaker.<br />
Brian created a character, Victoria, and her pet octopus, Otto in a series of illustrations which then led to publishing a book, <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhCLnXSvauturygK8r9bSSz5tXKPkYX_9n55_2FT3Sm8vCOX10fvYdmtUDcrim3FbgXRkxgp1Ouf3rgsXH-ZB2fDEOUBY_dYS9iMje-gfaZwGrs6_WIWXg129EX62tJEGasAd6qg/s1600/5th+Beatle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhCLnXSvauturygK8r9bSSz5tXKPkYX_9n55_2FT3Sm8vCOX10fvYdmtUDcrim3FbgXRkxgp1Ouf3rgsXH-ZB2fDEOUBY_dYS9iMje-gfaZwGrs6_WIWXg129EX62tJEGasAd6qg/s1600/5th+Beatle.jpg" height="320" width="241" /></a>Not too long after that I ended up catching the end of a panel discussion of <i><a href="http://thefifthbeatle.com/" target="_blank">The Fifth Beatle</a>, </i>a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Fifth-Beatle-Brian-Epstein-Story-ebook/dp/B00E9HGXZG/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1398660029&sr=1-1&keywords=the+fifth+beatle" target="_blank">graphic </a><br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Fifth-Beatle-Brian-Epstein-Story-ebook/dp/B00E9HGXZG/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1398660029&sr=1-1&keywords=the+fifth+beatle" target="_blank">novel</a> by Vivek Tiwary with illustrations by Andrew Robinson and Kyle Baker. I didn't have any real interest in this panel, I just sat in on the end so I could get a good seat for Jim Lee's panel which was to follow immediately thereafter. My mistake. Turns out Vivek Tiwary is a really interesting guy, with a really interesting story to tell about making the book and now going on to making the movie, and he is very well spoken. It would have been worthwhile to be there for the whole panel, even for someone who, like me, is not the biggest fan of The Beatles.<br />
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That panel wrapped up, leaving me wanting to run out and pick up this little graphic novel about the man who put The Beatles on the map. Which led to the panel that had brought me down from Burbank in the first place: Drawing with <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=drawing+with+jim+lee&hl=en&authuser=0&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=AN1dU5ToN87YyAHj0oHgCA&ved=0CC0QsAQ&biw=1264&bih=727" target="_blank">Jim Lee</a>. If you're a fan of comics, and you've never seen a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jim_Lee" target="_blank">Jim Lee</a> panel, put it on your bucket list. He's awesome. He is very much about demystifying the process of sequential art. In most of these panels he talks about the artistic process and illustrating the characters he's working on at DC (among his other responsibilities), which usually means drawing Batman, or a Batman villain, or another character in the Batman books. This time he decided to make the panel about the storytelling process, revealed through working on pages from an upcoming issue of <i>Batman</i>. As the audience watched he had the writer, Scott Snyder, email him the script. He then invited aspiring artists from the audience to join him on stage where he read them the script and asked them to draw rough panels. He then talked about their layouts as he "inked" their pages with a sharpie. When that was done, he revealed the page he had done for the same script, and it was remarkable how similar his page was to elements from each of the three rough layouts put forward by the aspiring artists.<br />
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After his panels, at least at WonderCon, Jim Lee does something that others at his level do very rarely. Instead of exiting through a back door or a side entrance, he goes out through the main exit with the fans. Inevitably this leads to a clot of people forming around him and shoving all sorts of paraphernalia at him to sign. He signs <i>everything</i>, graciously takes pictures with his fans, and has a smile on his face the whole time. Jim Lee is a class act.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFPIoZqu_qbi-9Sg4QbICE-inEzjhQ9otHO8_xTn1Ux0qBT_uj0GvrOJvTpT754ULWQ8xu5BYLZN0Zz0HL9yoxLjtjuLNUX717s2HI-InIT8F_oDI5mqo5p8cpssxu5-oOfGCo-Q/s1600/Jim+Lee_terrible+selfie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFPIoZqu_qbi-9Sg4QbICE-inEzjhQ9otHO8_xTn1Ux0qBT_uj0GvrOJvTpT754ULWQ8xu5BYLZN0Zz0HL9yoxLjtjuLNUX717s2HI-InIT8F_oDI5mqo5p8cpssxu5-oOfGCo-Q/s1600/Jim+Lee_terrible+selfie.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a>After taking this terrible selfie with Jim Lee I realized I was completely out of gas. Coffee and determination were no longer enough to sustain me, so it was time to go home. I needed what little reserves of energy remained for engaging "daddy-mode" on getting home.<br />
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As I drove home, reflecting on the day, it occurred to me that something in my chest, or the general vicinity thereof, had unclenched. I was happy, and at peace. All that I can attribute that feeling to, is a sense of rightness with how I'd spent my day. There can be no question: being surrounded by that culture, living and breathing the enthusiasm for sequential story telling is something that drives me. For one glorious day, <i>I fit</i>. I found where I belong.basicrowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17633143016850069717noreply@blogger.com0