"Yakuza Mafia Weather Machine" sounds like a band name

I promised sunshine and puppy dogs yesterday, and here I deliver:

A boy, his dog, his gun, and several flags - if this image doesn’t make you stand up and salute, well, then you just better wheel your Trotskyite ass outta here before I notice. Go here and buy yourself a 21” x 27.5” print of this painting (just what every house needs) for only seventy dollars. In the words of Homer Simpson: U-S-A! U-S-A!
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And you may have seen this already, but since everyone loves a good card game, here’s, it’s Katrina: The Gathering. That one’s for you, Paul.

This is my favourite card so far:


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And while we’re on the topic of Paul, here’s something from his apartment that made me laugh:


This was in Paul’s apartment too, but I didn't laugh so much as wince:


Don’t worry Paul, I won’t say who you were playing against.

"I'm not even supposed to be here today!"

I’ve been working alright? Get off my case.
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Toronto reacts to rain like Vancouver reacts to snow. The wet weather a few days ago added forty-five minutes on to my commute. Both ways. This in a town where rush hour already lasts nineteen out of every twenty-four hours.

Arrgh, all I’ve got is venom today, so I recommend you just stop reading here and come back tomorrow for the usual sunshine and butterflies. Seriously. I hate listening to people complain about where they live, but that’s all I’m going to do today, and it’s not going to be nice for anyone.

So I’m getting my car insured for Ontario, and as a result I’ve been dealing with all sorts of nonsense this week. For the last year, I’ve been driving with my British Columbia insurance, because last September the ladies at the DMV told me that it was okay. The whole thing seemed kind of sketchy, but I didn’t want to go through the hassle of changing my insurance, so I just took them at their word and ignored the potential for problems. However, dealing with my insurance company from across the country has lost its charm, so I decided to switch over. Now I’m going through the hassles.

On Wednesday, I paid a hundred and twenty dollars to get a safety inspection and emissions testing done. When I got back into my car at the garage, out of reflex I thought, “Well, at least my car will run better now.” Actually, it won’t, because I didn’t pay them to fix my car, I paid to be told it was okay already, which I already knew because I get the damned thing serviced every three months. Fuck.

Then on Thursday, since I’m not a student anymore, I had to get my B.C. driver’s license switched to an Ontario one. Seventy-five dollars and they took my B.C. license, so when I go back I’ll have to give another $50 to get a new one. Fuck. The woman at the driver’s license place was pleasant to deal with at least, but I’d be pleasant too if my job was to screw people all day.

And today, I finished the process and got my registration and license plates, which cost another $90. Seventy of that is an annual fee, so if I stay another year, I’ll have to pay again. Motherfucker.

The worst part is that at the end of every stage in the process, out of habit I told the person I was dealing with, “Thank you.” Thank you for manhandling me, I’ll be back for more. I understand that these people didn’t come up with the rules, but I need a face to attach my hate to, and that’s the one that took my money.

My seven days working last week didn’t help matters. Sunday counted as part of the week previous, and I picked up this past Saturday as a favour for another guy. When I got in on Saturday, I found out that it was a nine hour shift, which is like signing up to get punched and then being told that it’s going to be in the nuts.

Normally, all this stuff would roll right off of my back. I mean, a forty-nine hour work week is hardly news; one time at EA I did a ninety-six hour week (to which my immigrant labourer dad replied, “Nice. Now try doing that for seven years straight.”). Ever since August, though, I’ve been on an increasingly short fuse. August was when the trip I was supposed to take home got postponed on account of low fundage. So now, instead of being here because I want to be, I feel like I’m here because I’m stuck here. And I hate feeling trapped. The result is that every time an annoyance pops up, the effect is cumulative. I’m fine most of the time, but when traffic on a six lane highway slows to a stop at one in the morning, or I have to pay four days salary just so that I can drive my car, every piece of aggravation from the last two months comes back, and I hate this city with every fiber of my being.

I thought I told you to stop reading?

I’ll be fine; a few days at home will release all this built up pressure. Until then, though, I'll continue to be filled with unreasoning rage.

Puppy dogs and rainbows tomorrow, I promise.

"Oh my, but that little country boy could play"

Speaking of Arthur Adams, I saw the America’s Best Comics collection at the library the other day, and decided to sign it out because it had The Many Worlds of Tesla Strong special in it that I hadn’t read yet. I haven’t gotten through all the stories, so I can’t comment on that aspect, but I think I might buy this book for all the bonus material included. This collection has the best sketchbook section that I think I've seen in any other collection. The last part of the book is forty five pages of sketches and character designs by Chris Sprouse, Rick Veitch, Kevin Nowlan, Hilary Barta, Alex Ross, J.H. Williams III, and Art Adams, among others; so it’s not just a sketchbook, but a sketchbook by a bunch of awesome artists. Moreover, the pieces are really nice and reproduced well, if you're inclined towards this sort of thing. This piece, for example, shows yet again why Arthur Adams, God bless him, can’t draw a monthly book:


Because he’s nuts, that’s why. Who puts this much detail into a model sheet? Especially one for a character he’s going to be drawing himself? Anyways, if you see the book somewhere, just flip through to see what I'm talking about.
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So on my daily long-ass drives to work I’ve been rediscovering my CD collection, since the only place I ever really listen to CDs is in my car. A few things I’ve noticed:

Nirvana’s “Love Buzz,” (Track 5 on Bleach if you’re like me and you never look at song titles) is quite possibly the best driving song ever, but I never would have thought so if not for the trailer for Mad Love;

Sinatra at the Sands by Frank Sinatra (duh) and the Count Basie Orchestra, produced by Quincy Jones (how’s that for a lineup!) is quite possibly the greatest driving CD ever, mostly because it makes me feel like I’m in a car commercial;

“He never ever learned to read or write so well, but he could play the guitar just like a-ringing a bell,” is the greatest rock lyric of all time (the entire verse is great, and should be taken as a whole, but that bit about the bell is what really kicks my ass). I’m being a little facetious about the first two, but if you disagree with me on that last one I will punch you in the mouth.

That is all.

"Are you mother******* ready, for the new ****?"

Alright, where to begin?

The last few weeks have had a number of pleasant surprises. Among them: the university unexpectedly gave me a last cheque, which meant that I didn’t have to resort to eating cat food just yet. Also, a couple of things I’d ordered off of eBay showed up. One of them was a Winsor and Newton Series 7 Number 2 paintbrush. Now, if you know little about comic book inking, that’ll mean nothing to you, so just take my word for it that it’s a nice brush. I got it for about a third of the normal price, which was sweet all on its own, but the seller also went out of his way to find the fastest and cheapest shipping option. I got an email from PayPal one day saying that the guy had refunded seventy cents to me, because he found out that the $2.70 I’d paid was too much. EBay is nice when it works for you.

Speaking of work and eBay, I got a job. I’m not quite sure how I feel about that, but it’s money. Have you seen The 40 Year Old Virgin? No, not the guy with the purple beret who works at the library; I mean the movie. Remember the store the love interest works at? “We Sell Your Stuff on eBay”? That’s where I work, except the name is different, and we’re missing the lovely and delightful Catherine Keener. The money is crap, and the commute is so long I’m embarrassed, but it’s an income, and the job is fun. The people I work with are hilarious too. This exchange happened on my first day:

C: So what did you do before you worked here?
D: I just finished my Master’s in English.
C: Ah. All the English majors I know are really articulate. Do you find you have to dumb down when you talk to non-English people?
D: Not really. But I notice that with English majors when I use three or four syllable words, no one blinks.

[S and A enter the room]

C: Alright guys, new store rule: you can only use three or four syllable words when you talk.
S: What? Preposterous!

That’s some funny shit. I’m still looking for other work, but I wish this job wasn’t so entertaining, because it’d be easier to leave if it sucked.
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Alright, back to the comics. Andi Watson has a blog and a website. Andi Watson is awesome. The website isn’t fully functional yet, but he puts art up on the blog all the time, like this:



I love the sparseness of Watson’s linework. I’m always impressed by how much he achieves with the minimum number of markings. He makes Alex Toth look like Arthur Adams. He has an incredible sense of composition too, and his work always strikes me as very stylish and modern. His writing doesn’t always click with me, but I enjoyed Slow News Day quite a bit, if you’re looking for something of his to read.

(Side note: I remember vaguely that when I bought Watson’s Dumped the clerk gave me too much change back and I didn’t say anything because I thought the book was a bit pricey to begin with, and I’d had to talk myself into buying it. I feel kind of guilty about that. I don’t know if included this story as trivia or as a confession.)

(links via Drawn!)
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And finally, over at Worth1000.com they’re having an image manipulation contest, and the theme is “What if Goths ruled the world?” Some funny images up, like these two:





And to bring it back to comics, here’s another:



Go check out the rest.

(link via: BoingBoing)

"And what's with the black? You look like you're going to a funeral." "Maybe I am."

I finally found the Ghost Rider trailer here.


Was it worth the hunt? Not really, but now that I've done the legwork, take a look if you haven't seen it already.
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Also, if you haven't seen it, the trailer for Aeon Flux, with Charlize Theron. I'm not too impressed by the trailer, but I quite like this poster:


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And finally, the trailer for the upcoming Johnny Cash biopic, Walk the Line, starring Joachim Phoenix. This bunch is firing on all cylinders, they've got a good trailer and a good poster.


I don't know how the movie will hold up, but all of Phoenix's lines in the trailer are killers, especially the last two.

Superman Teaser Trailer

Not sure if this is official, but it's got some footage I haven't seen before. Check it out here.

Just to tell you once again, who's bad

The internet is a lot like David Hasselhoff: just when I think I’ve seen it all, they both prove me wrong.


Download this Word file (543kb) to see something so ridiculous it is sublime. [edit: link fixed]
(via Cheesedip)
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Add this to the reasons why I love the English language: if you go to Thesaurus.com and punch in the word “bad”, and this is the top entry that comes up:

Main Entry: bad
Part of Speech: adjective
Definition: good
Synonyms: effective, excellent, fashionable, sharp, stylish

I don’t understand how anyone learns this language if they aren’t raised with it.
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I’ve been reading The Golden Age of DC Comics: 365 Days recently. “Reading” may not be accurate, as the book is a mainly a picture book, an oddly shaped coffee table book if you will. The book is quite entertaining, as it is stuffed with images from golden age DC comics- one for every day of the year- and commentary on those images and the trends of the time. This image is my favourite so far:


Put together by comics historian Les Daniels and graphic design guru Chip Kidd, the book is fun in both content and design. Daniels has a good discussion of the design ideas behind the book in his portion of the introduction:

This book is part of a popular series presenting pictures in a particular format, one which may seem counterintuitive as far as the shape of comic books is concerned. But looking at these artefacts through a different set of eyes encourages new ways of seeing. Covers may be viewed here only in detail, as if they were Ye Olde Art Treasures, while small panels, often only about the proportions of postage stamps, can be blown up to gigantic size and take on an authority all their own. And the full page or half-page splashes, which introduced so many classic stories, can stand alone as the distinct if deceptive fantasias they so often were.

It’s an interesting experiment, and an interesting read. I don’t know if I’d buy it (although Amazon.com is selling it for an amazing US $12, two-thirds off the cover price) , but I recommend finding it at your local library if you can.