(insert cute pun-like title here)

We are marching as to war

davidbell — Sun, 02 Aug 2009 21:35:30 +0000

“What’s with the douchebag uniform?”
Normally when I walk through the grocery store, I get comments like “Would it kill you to get the facts right in a story once in a while?” or “Didn’t you used to host that radio talk show? Yeah, I like the new guy better.”
But this was a new one on me. The guy who asked – Ted from Ted’s House Painting Emporium (“I put the paint in my mouth and spread it on the walls via a Danny Thomas spit-take. It’s very time consuming. I’m not doing very well in this economy.”) – explained it to me.
“The douchebag uniform consists of short sleeved, collard golf short worn over a white t-shirt and both are untucked from cargo shorts that generally break just above or just below the knee. Footwear is flip-flops – also known as thongs – that have no arch support and a toe divider.”
Well, firstly, I like polo shirts because it’s 300 degrees in Havasu and these with shorts are considered work attire in this town. Plus I don’t wear a t-shirt under it and my shoes are sneakers, not flip-flops.
“Probably a regional deviation.”
So what’s the big deal about this “uniform?”
“It’s worn by college students to mid-30s as a way to identify each other. Much like a university tie, fraternity pin or single earring. It lets douchebags know they are in the presence of another douchebag. Another self-involved narcissist whose life experiences consist almost entirely of getting drunk, telling others how drunk they plan on getting, telling others how drunk they were and reminiscing with fellow douchebags about how drunk they became together (generally an action that occurred less than a month previously).
“And when talk isn’t about drinking, it parroting lines from movies or TV to each other, generally something from Office Space or Swingers – ‘Vegas, baby!’ – as if watching something equates to life experience.”
Ted said the douchebag uniform is worn until the mid 30s. So that must mean these douchebags grow out of this condition and since I’m in my late 40s that proves I’m not a douchebag.
“That’s when the douchebag uniform changes. Now it’s a tropical/resort shirt with buttons – like a Tommy Bahamas shirt – still untucked over a pair of shorts that break above the knee. Chinos are fine but silk or seersucker is better. And the shoes are huarache sandals.
“That lets the douchebag know he’s with other ‘mature’ douchebags so the conversation is more adult. About flipping properties, complaining about taxes, how big their boat is, what country their last vacation took place in, what country they will go to on the next vacation (second or third of the year), of course, drinking. Only now it’s Johnny Walker Blue instead of Anchor Steam beer.
“Oh, and repeating lines from Caddyshack, Stripes and Animal House to each other.”
Holy cow. I have all those things (although I don’t wear them much). And I can repeat all those movies (Fast Times at Ridgemont High too) I just don’t do the drinking, boating and vacationing out of the country. And I don’t earn enough to complain about taxes. But even still…
“No drinking? No vacations in a foreign country?”
Nope, once a year it’s off to San Diego with the family for ComicCon.
“Oh. You’re not a douchebag then.”
Whew.
“You’re a loser.”

Hey Kids! Comics!

Am I late to the party on Slackerz?
Of course I am.
Doesn’t mean I couldn’t catch up. And so can you.
Knowing geek speak helps but not required.
A lack of respect for authority though, that you need to bring to the table.
And you can’t get all worked up over “bad words.” Be a grown up.
They’re just words.
So go read it.
Don’t cost nothin’.
The end.

Got a weird thing to tell you, so tell all the boys and girls

davidbell — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 06:54:53 +0000

Nothing good can come of walking in to Katsumi Patel’s Irish Pub on Swanson and seeing five women you know at a table, all holding chocotinis.
“So Dave, tell us, have you ever squirted yourself in the groin with shaving gel?” Cindy the beautician asked.
Intentionally or unintentionally?
“By accident.”
Regular or menthol?
“Regular.”
Naked or wearing a towel after a shower?
“Naked.”
In that case….yes.
At that point I was rescued by Vinnie, who pulled me back by the dart board.
“I need to get to know more gay people,” he said.
Although in retrospect, I’m not sure rescued is the right word. Anyway, I’m down with the diversity thing and it was nice to learn that Vinnie was too.
“’Cuz I need to find someplace with more gay music.”
Yeah, I should have seen something like that coming.
So what exactly is gay music? Are we talking about the Village People?
“Village People suck! No way! Well, yeah, I guess so, but I mean pop-dance music you’d hear in a cool gay club. Like stuff by Jamiroquai or Kylie Minogue. Just the kind of stuff people can dance to without feeling like the whole thing is choreographed by Tommy Tune.”
So that whole man’s man tough guy East Coast gambling ginzo act is just a front and you’re coming out? Good on you, Johnny Cakes.
“Nah. It’s just that there’s no place in this town that plays good dance music. It’s all bars too small for live music hosting bands that play thrash industrial death metal or dance clubs with a playlist of just Kanye West and Jamie Foxx hip-hop rap nonsense.
“Don’t get me wrong, some is ok. NWA’s ‘Straight Outta Compton’ is a brilliant song, but sometimes it’s easier to hear Digital Underground’s ‘Humpty Dance.’”
Cool. Vinnie is a Tony Manero wannabe. Who knew he had the moves?
“Dance? Me? Nope, I just want someplace to listen to the music. I like that stuff.”
So Vinnie is not gay and doesn’t dance but wants to find a club with gay people to listen to dance music. Right. So why ask me?
“You remember that shaving cream questions the women asked, where you had them clarify things? Was there any combination of the options you gave where you answer no?”
One.
“That’s why.”

Hey Kids! Comics!

Nothing really doing this week.
I was thinking of recommending League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. While the first book is really good, the second is ok and the third is…well, let’s put it this way: Alan Moore tries to riff Shakespeare as Shakespeare as part of the story.
Look, I think Moore, who wrote Watchmen, is a great writer (although a pompous douchebag because he gets all worked up about editors making changes to his stories while his stories all use the works of others) but dude. No one but Shakespeare can write Shakespeare.
So instead, I’ll just say that the first Superman installment of Wednesday Comics (DC Comics’ version of the old time single strip full comics pages of the 30s and 40s) will be in USA Today July 8. After that the Superman strip will run in the paper’s online edition.
While I would have preferred the Joe Kubert Sgt. Rock story or the Ryan Sook Kamandi pages, it’s still sounds cool.

Everyone has one special thing

davidbell — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 18:09:50 +0000

“So where have you been?”

Lou Anne had a legitimate question, as I’ve been MIA for a bit. I dunno. I just didn’t feel like being around people because I just haven’t been feeling too funny lately.

“You’re supposed to be funny?”

…

Really? Here too?

Anyway, I’m back and, as it turned out, the timing was right. Because talk at Crazy Willy’s 24 Hour Bistro and Diesel Station (on South Palo Verde) was about the News-Herald.

“We heard you’ve been kicked off the movie set.”
Quick digression: Lake Havasu City is playing host to the makers of a movie, Piranha 3D. Back to the story.

No, I wasn’t kicked off the set, I’m not covering it. But they are prohibiting the News-Herald reporter who is covering it from coming around and no cameras. Turns out one of the local radio guys fancies himself Army Archerd and leaked photos he took with his phone to every horror movie website and blog on the planet. And that irritated the director enough to issue the closed set edict.

“Well, that’s just dumb,” Lou Anne said.

And I agree. It’s not like an 80-year-old fake voiced radio guy is going to become the next Ryan Seacrest because he took a couple of pict…

“No, I mean that’s dumb of the director. And especially the producers and the studio,” she said. “Having a steady stream of data coming from your movie is one way to build anticipation and that means box office.

“Think about it. This is a cheesy, low budget flick that, if it’s lucky, will get a March release date on a few hundred screens and then disappear in a week. Hopefully it can make back its money on the DVD release that will happen less than a month later.

“But, if they allowed the newspaper to come on set once or twice a week, that will get picked up by the horror movie web sites and blogs. A couple of pictures of the sets, maybe an actor or two – not during shooting of course but maybe chatting with the people on set – and that’s buzz.

“And it’s not like the paper is going to break anything newsworthy on the set. The fish are CGI, right? So no one will see them until the release. The ending? Like it matters. But even still, it’s easy enough to politely ask the reporter to not ask about script points while giving them access.

“And best of all, it’s free. Free positive blurbs – about how nice the crew is, how much money they’re pumping into the economy, that sort of thing – on a weekly basis, building anticipation about a movie most people will forget about five minutes after it’s released.

“But I guess the director and producers are too smart to do something as business savvy as that.”

Is now a good time to mention that MTV was here last week and had the same closed set policy to the paper?

“Of course they did,” Lou Anne said. “MTV hasn’t been relevant since Kurt Loder celebrated his 65^th birthday at Clinton’s first inauguration. Why would they want to build buzz – free buzz – about something no one will even know is on?”

Let me guess: the restaurant hasn’t seen an uptick up business since they arrived.

“Would it really kill Ving Rhames to come in an order a tuna melt every now and then?”

Hey kids! Comics!

Some books are a product of their time and may not translate well today.

Howard the Duck is one of those books. And I don’t care.

Howard the Duck was created by the late Steve Gerber as a way to use a familiar cartoon icon – the talking duck like Donald or Daffy – to satirize everything wrong with the 1970s. And he pulls it off perfectly. From the drug culture and disco to political scandals and the decay of U.S. metropolitan areas, it’s in the book.

And the Gene Colan art is simply perfect.

Howard started in a comic book, expanded into a newspaper comic strip and eventually moved into a black-and-white magazine before the bloom fell off the rose. After all, the 70s couldn’t last forever.

There were a couple of super-hero guest appearances, because that was needed to get the book into the hands of the typical comic reader in the 1970s. But it’s just a minor intrusion and shouldn’t interrupt your enjoyment.

Now if you didn’t live through the 70s, you may not relate and this book probably isn’t for you. But if you did, or like a fun house reflection of recent history, you should love this book.

Oh, and forget about the George Lucas movie. It’s not reflective of the book’s quality at all. Although it is a great indicator of the quality of the Star Wars prequals.

There’s a giant Howard the Duck omnibus that collects all 32 issues of the comic and a bunch of other appearances in color but it’s really expensive (even after the Amazon discount it’s over $60) and doesn’t even include the magazine or comic strips. Go with the black and white Essential that has 27 issues. Even though it’s out of print, you can get the Essential for under $10 on eBay.

Runs around in underwear, Freakazoid! Freakazoid!

davidbell — Tue, 12 May 2009 21:00:40 +0000

“Where are the TV listings? I wanna know what freak is on tonight.”
I didn’t know that Garreth, the fry man at KC and the Sunshine Burger, was a fan of the classic horror film genre.
“What are you talking about, man? I just wanna see the freak of the day.”
Ok, I’m lost.
“TV, man. Every channel. They’re all about the freak of the day. Their biggest shows are about midgets…”
Little people.
“Fatsos…”
People battling the disease of obesity.
“Morons spitting out litters of kids…”
Yeah, I’ve got nothing for that one.
“Look, the freak dominates on Lifetime, TLC, MTV, NBC, CBS, ABC, truTV, you name it. People want to see some f’d-up people and laugh at them. Like the dude turning into a tree or the guy slower than Forrest Gump singing I’m So Excited off key and being judge by a woman on so much of something she makes William S. Burroughs look as straight edge as Nancy Reagan.”
I didn’t understand Garreth. What’s funny about people trying to make their lives better?
“Better? Going on TV is making life better for the 400 pound guy that’s fused to the toilet seat? TV is the answer for the drunk couple – always without shirts – that cops have to come out and referee or they’ll kill each other? And I’m sure that having cameras around 24 hours a day, while mommy and daddy are out banging strangers and on book tours, but not actually parenting, will ensure that the gaggle of kids spit out at one time will grow up to be completely well adjusted.”
But these shows are on channels designated for learning so there must be some redeeming value.
“What? I can learn that nude pictures or a sex tape used to be a career ender now it’s part of the marketing strategy to keep a former child star famous? I can learn that five minutes of infamy thanks to divorcing a musical genius is enough to let me dance worse than the Addams Family butler Lurch?
“No, what I learned is that you can forget about the Me Generation or Gen-X. We’re in the middle of the Freak Show Generation, baby! Simon Cowell is my king, Ryan Seacrest is my queen and I’m all in!”
So. This is what the downfall of the Roman Empire felt like.

Hey kids! Comics!

Let’s talk Losers.
The Losers are five members of a very specialized, highly trained military unit kept off the books. Doing things nobody is supposed to know about or acknowledge.
The team is offered to the CIA for some dirty work in the Middle East, betrayed and left for dead. That’s when things get interesting.
Yeah, that old chestnut. But unlike the A-Team, this book read authentic thanks to Andy Diggle’s writing. Nothing crazy, just solid storytelling and situations that can (and unfortunately probably do) happen.
Now, I like the art by Jock but it’s stylized. Meaning you have to work for it. But trust me, it’s worth it.
There are only five trades to the complete story so it won’t break the bank to read it. And you’ll want to read it now before the movie comes out, which (based on casting – actors that played Uhura from Star Trek and the Comedian from Watchmen are in) looks just as cool.

We roam around the forest, looking for fights

davidbell — Wed, 06 May 2009 17:09:28 +0000

“Oooooo that Vinnie!”
Audrey must’ve gotten wind of Vinnie latest anti-woman screed. You know Audrey, she’s our local feminist and author of A Women’s Guide to Breaking the Glass Ceiling and Keeping off that Extra 10 Pounds.
Anyway, she found out about Vinnie’s latest rant where he called women attention seekers because bikini tops highlight their breasts.
“Like men are something special and not giant know-it-alls! As if ownership of a Y chromosome somehow makes a man naturally smarter.”
Well, studies have shown the overwhelming majority of geniuses are male.
“But those same studies show an equally high number of psychotics and schizophrenics are male too. In other words, it’s all extremes with men. But women? We’re consistent. Normal.
“And what is it with men and their mothers? When they grow up, all they want to do is find a mommy-substitute. Somebody to do the cooking, the cleaning, the washing, just like dear old ma. But they also want to sleep with this faux mom. You don’t find that disquieting?”
Well, when you put it that way…
“And the macho man. Desperately trying to overcome his own shortcomings by being the biggest, baddest man in the room. Unable to reconcile the notion that the world does not revolve around him – thanks again mom! – that he decides to force the issue by becoming an obnoxious, Neanderthal. A narcissist’s narcissist demanding all the attention like some diva and if he doesn’t get it he’ll use his hairy knuckles to punch his way to being popular.
“Then there’s the man so emasculated by his very stature that he overcompensates by becomes a bully. Funny how you never hear about ‘short women’s syndrome,’ isn’t it?”
But how much of this can be explained by changing societal norms? Just over 100 years ago it was the man’s job to physically hunt and kill the food or no one ate. And he had to physically protect the family from all sorts of danger. These days the biggest threat comes from the collection agencies’ claim they’ll lower your credit score if you don’t get the Visa bill sent on time.
“Oh get over yourself! It’s not like this changed overnight. Men have had plenty of time to adapt. It’s time for us women to stop molly-coddling men and stop tolerating their toddler-like tantrums. Now where is that Vinnie!”
So that was it for Vinnie. Audrey was going to find him and if he got half as much as I just did, well, I just hope there’s enough left to bury.
“Wait, before I go; how’s my hair? And does this dress make me look fat?”
Yeah, it’s men that make no sense.

Hey kids! Comics!

Since we’re talking men and women today, here’s something we can agree on: The Sandman.
The Sandman is the story of Dream, one of the Endless (along with siblings Death, Destruction, Desire, Delirium, etc.) and his interactions with humanity, Lucifer, and his own mortality.
But basically it’s excuse to tell really cool stories about everything from nightmares that kill to the different myths each culture has to what a human would do with immortality.
Art is by someone different for each arc but it’s all written by Neil Gaiman, the guy who wrote a bunch of novels including Coraline, Mirror Mask and Stardust (upon which the movies were based) and the screenplay for Beowulf. But don’t hold that last one against him, he also wrote the English adaptation of Princess Mononoke.
The story can be read in its entirety thanks to 10 trades and the first, Preludes and Nocturnes, is being reissued for about $10. Otherwise you’re looking at about $13 each on Amazon, which is still a great deal for stories this good.

If you could just see what I hear

davidbell — Mon, 27 Apr 2009 16:53:01 +0000

Ahhh, warm weather! That means work taking me down to the lake to get plenty of photos of people cavorting in the water.

And being called pervert.

“Wait, people call you pervert for taking pictures for your job?” Vinnie asked.

It takes a lot to get Vinnie’s head out of the daily racing form but pervert usually does the trick.

And yes, it’s common to be called some derogatory name by the young women in bathing suits after I take a picture of a crowd on a boat. Or get a dirty look from the women on the beach. Or a disgusted “tsk.”

“See, this is why we’ve evolved as far as we ever will as a species. Because one of genders just doesn’t get it. We have strip clubs and DVDs, libraries of magazines and online, we don’t need women in bikinis. Why would a guy bother himself with trudging down to the water, taking pictures of dressed, anonymous women when he has the internet and can see live Russian women ironing in the nude?”

Really? Nude ironing?

“I have a thing for domesticity,” Vinnie said. “Anyway, women are hypocrites.”

Wow, that was strong. Even for a he-man-woman-hater like Vinnie.

“Think about it. These are women are in skimpy, two-piece bathing suits, right? With lots of cleavage and bottoms that barely cover the important parts. Basically, it’s underwear. In some cases, less than the underwear they wear during the week. And they’re out in public. Why would anyone run around in underwear in public?”

Because the rest of the clothes are in the wash?
“Because they want to be noticed. If not, they could be wearing a one piece suit from Lands End designed to have a slimming effect on the hips, keep the bust in place and pull up the heiney. But that might cover up the tramp stamp, the lower back tattoo that establishes their individuality by looking exactly like the tens of million other women with the same exact uniform-like tattoo.

“And pasties and thongs? Those scream look at me. They want you to look. They just don’t want YOU to look.”

I was lost in the idea that Vinnie spent that much time studying a catalogue of smart, well tailored but drab clothing when his last statement pulled me back. Why me?

“It’s not you you. It’s you anyone that’s not him.”

Him who?

“Him is the guy these women have idealized. The drywall installer whose idea of a good time is a 12-pack and a bottle rocket. The guy that as a kid got his head stuck inside a toilet but grew up to model underwear for the local closeout store. The guy that can’t name the sitting president but can mix up a double mocha frappe coffee chino. Whoever they think is hunky. They want that guy to look. And in their mind everybody else who looks at something designed to draw attention is a pervert. And that’s why we as a species are done advancing. If we can’t agree on things as basic as social interaction and attraction, how are we going to master telekinesis?

“So don’t worry about being called a pervert. We know you’re not.”

Thanks, Vinnie.

“So, did you get any pictures of any hot broads?”

Then again, maybe the women aren’t totally wrong.

Hey Kids! Comics!

Did you know there was a James Bond comic strip?

Not a comic book, but a daily adventure comic strip in the newspaper that ran for about 25 years, starting in 1958.

Of course you wouldn’t, unless you lived in London. The strip was exclusive to the Daily Express (and occasionally a couple of non-UK European papers).

Well, now Americans can read the strips too. Titan Books is collecting the strips, with two or three stories per collection.

The strip started with adaptations of the Ian Fleming stories – including those not adapted into movies – then branched out into original stories. And unlike the Roger Moore years, the comic strip stayed true to the Fleming version of Bond.

Now, comic strips can be a tough read sometimes. It may seem the plot doesn’t advance much then jumps wildly as the writer (American Jim Lawrence) is limited to just three panels. It’s assumed the reader will make the conclusions necessary to advance the story.

Plus the art by Yaroslav Horak can be a bit busy and scratchy at times.

But it’s Bond in stories we’d never seen before and Bond more like the current Daniel Craig movies. Which makes it pretty cool.

Amazon is the place to go for these, as I’ve never seen them offered anyway else. Including the San Diego ComiCon, which, up to the Bond books, I thought had everything comic.

A Chuck Barris production

davidbell — Mon, 20 Apr 2009 22:56:30 +0000

It was a dark and stormy night. And then she walked in.

“She? She who?”

Lou Anne had a fair question. I didn’t know and that’s why I asked the gang down at Crazy Willy’s 24 Hour Bistro and Diesel Station (on South Palo Verde) to help me write my novel. Why a novel? Because every writer dreams of writing the Great American Novel.

Actually, that’s not true. I dreamed of writing the Great American Sitcom. As much as literary snobs respect Faulkner, Joyce, Salinger and Fitzgerald, I’d rather have Seinfeld money.

But until I can get a network pitch, I figured I take a stab at a novel. Which was turning out to be harder than I anticipated, as evidenced by the two whole sentences I was able to produce over the past three months. So I asked for help.

“She’s a singer,” Lou Anne said. “A singer that can belt out all the pop hits.”

“And a dancer,” Cindy added. “The kind that has starred in the local dinner theater ever since she graduated high school, and could wow America if she only had the chance to show her stuff on the big stages of Broadway.”

So she’s a singer-dancer?

“Packing heat,” Phil said. “A Sig Sauer P226 on a belt holster and a Beretta 21A tucked in the tops of her garter belt and stockings.”

Phil doesn’t talk much but when he does, he knows his stuff. Which makes me really concerned about the future if his 401k takes another 18 point drop.

“And she’s one of 12 kids. Wait! She was one of 12 births! Yeah! And everyone in her family are midgets except her and she grew up in this midget town so she was treated like the freak!” Danny said.

And then I had to remind him that they are little people. We can’t say the M-word any more.
“Seriously?”
Seriously. Just like no N-word, there’s no more use of the M-word, the F-word, certainly no C-word and forget the Q-word. That one could get you deported.

“What about the I-word?
Only when talking about: a) baseball, b) a bureau of the Interior Department or c) the guys that want to blow up Pakistan.

“And she’s rich,” said Willy. “From the lottery or a game show.”

Ok, let me see if I got this:

It was a dark and stormy night. And then she walked in. The kind of dame that could seduce you with a look and reduce a man to tears with a brush of her hand.

She merengued her way to my desk, belting out Billy Joel’s Just the Way You Are which confused me.

Was she just the big girl from the little town I saw get rich on Surviving after taking No Deal from the 5^th Grader Smarter than a Millionaire? Or was she an assassin from East Berlin?

“East Berlin?” Lou Anne said. “A 20-year-old communist reference?”

A U.S. Marshall seeking America’s Most Wanted?

“Now that’s much better,” Cindy said. “That’s more like reality.”

Hey kids! Comics!

I’ve had a lot of people ask my why I don’t point you folks to Marvel Comics. And by a lot, I mean just me and I realized I don’t point you folks to many Marvel Comics.

And that’s because Marvel (the home of Spider-Man, the Hulk, Iron Man, Wolverine, et al) mainly does superhero comics.

Which is fine. I like a few superhero books (DC’s Green Lantern is really good right now) but generally I moved past the spandex crowd a while ago. So I don’t read many Marvels except occasional cheap phone-sized black-and-white Essentials of 60s Marvel superheroes.

Except for The Stand. That I read every month (or every month that Hastings gets in a copy).

Which is kind of cheating in a way, as The Stand less a comic than an almost word-for-word adaptation of Stephen King’s novel with pictures. Which, unlike the two TV mini-series based on the book, makes this adaptation good.

The art is clear and not too stylized (a problem suffered by many Marvel books these days) and the story is pure King. About what happens to the survivors of a man-made plague. Religion plays a big part in this as well as King’s finest look at the facets of human nature.

So far there’s been one five-issue mini series – Captain Trips –collected in a hardcover, so wait a few months for the cheaper trade paperback. The second mini series – American Nightmare – is underway.

Marvel also did some comics based on King’s Dark Tower series that were well received. I never cared for the Gunslinger character or books, so I passed it by. But if you like King, you might want to have a go at that as well.

Everything old is new again

davidbell — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 19:34:38 +0000

“I have nothing but respect for escorts.”

These type of statements are common to hear while sitting on a bar stool at Katsumi Patel’s Irish Pub on Swanson. To hear them come from Audrey, the author of The Feminist Cookbook: 101 Ways to Eat Healthy and Throw-off the Yoke of Misogynist Oppression was surprising to say the least.

“Think about it; escorts are the last honest business people.”

By escort you mean…?

“Prostitutes. Hookers, call girls, trollops, what ever you want to call them. They are the only business people left in America that don’t require a bail-out. And why is that?”

Having never availed myself of the service, I had no idea.

“Because they deliver what they promise. A buyer comes to them for a specific service and product and that service and product is exactly delivered. On time.

“And the price is set. There’s no MSRP that the retailer can jack up out of the price range of the buyer at the last minute or having to “talk with the manager” to see if the negotiated price is acceptable, which it is as long as you agree to take the extended warranty and the rustproof undercoating too (which isn’t actually done because you’ll never look but you’re charged for it anyway).

“There’s no upselling to larger fries or a hot apple pie. No promises that can’t be delivered like some pill that will help you lose 50 pounds in six hours. And there’s no bait and switch. The buyer won’t have to settle for the more expensive loveseat because ‘the last loveseat seen in the sale ad was just sold.’

“It’s like this bar here. I ask Sven the bartender for another vodka rocks, he pours it and I pay. The perfect business transaction. He doesn’t stop pouring halfway through to ask if I’m happy with my current phone service or if I’m interested in the supplemental accidental death and dismemberment plan for just an extra 13 cents a day. If American business modeled itself more on escorts…”

Or Sven.

“Or Sven, we’d be in great economic shape. You make something, you deliver what you promise and you’re paid for it.”

Audrey makes a good point. As a nation we’ve gotten away from what made us great and instead are looking for the quick score, the easy buck. Everyone wants the lottery and no one wants to work.

So does that mean Audrey is thinking of becoming an escort?

“Ewww! No way! That’s disgusting! I have morals you know!”

Apparently I still need to learn the proper definition of the word “respect.”

Hey kids! Comics!

Love & Rockets is one of those comics you know you should be reading because everybody tells you you should be reading it and yet you never actually read it.

Well, start reading it now because you can get a whole bunch cheap.

Bet no one tried that tact before, huh?

Anyway, Love & Rockets was this sometimes-published magazine by Los Bros Hernandez, about real people dealing with real situations in realistic fashion. The humor is right, the emotions are right and cartooning balances the reality with the absurdity of daily life.

Add in that the protagonists are primarily female and it offers a terrific counterpoint to the typical comic. Even the typical alternative bio-comic, which is almost always about how much of a loser a guy is (see: American Splendor or pretty much anything by Chester Brown). Not that loser guy bio comics aren’t really good (see: American Splendor or pretty much anything by Chester Brown) but Love & Rockets is a different animal and comes across as refreshing even at its bleakest moments.

The book is back for a third volume, Love & Rockets: New Stories, published quarterly (which Hastings sometimes gets in). But the early stories are being reprinted in a nice cheap format. On Amazon you can get the first 300 page volumes – Heartbreak Soup by Gilbert Hernandez and Maggie the Mechanic by Jaime Hernandez – for $10.17 each.

And yes, the band was named from the comic. They were fans too.

Think of it as vocational reprioritization

davidbell — Mon, 06 Apr 2009 21:01:37 +0000

Willy was laid off yesterday.

Which is really odd, considering he owns Crazy Willy’s 24 Bistro and Diesel Station (on South Palo Verde).

“Look, I can’t afford me right now,” he told us as he fixed us his final breakfast this morning before heading over to apply for unemployment.

“With the economy these days, and sales slipping, there’s no choice but to cut back on personnel.”

But, since you’re the guy that runs the bistro, won’t that mean the bistro has to be shut down?

“Nah, Lou Anne’s going to take on some bistro duties in addition to the mechanic work in the garage. We just have to pull together and do more with less.”

So let me get this straight: in order to compensate for slipping sales, the solution is to make the product less appealing?

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Six months ago I would have though Willy was crazy. I mean crazier than ‘Crazy Willy’, but today that thinking seems to be the norm. Like magazines that are losing ad sales so they cut writers, photographers and artists, which lead fewer people to pick it up at the book store, resulting in less reason for advertisers to advertise because there are fewer people reading. And thus the magazine has even fewer ad sales so they cut more writers, photographers and artists…

Well, you get the idea. Anyway, Willy, what if you invested in your company. Sure, you’ll take a loss today, but the payoff will be that your in stronger position than the competition when the economy rebounds.

“No way. If there’s anything I’ve learned from watching American corporations over the past 20 years, it’s that solid, long-term planning and profitability is always – ALWAYS – the be sacrificed for short term gains. The shorter the better, in fact. And if that short term gain can be coupled with undercapitalization, massive debt and a complete lack of loyalty to the employees from whom the corporation is now demanding loyalty in the form of less pay and benefits while producing more work, well, that’s the perfect situation.”

It’s awe inspiring to see a true American patriot. Who happens to be going on the dole.

Hey kids! Comics!

Nexus is a tough book for me to recommend you try.

Not because of the art work. The art by Steve Rude is gorgeous, with a fluid simplicity that disguises complex layouts. And his juxtaposition of the mundane and majesty is brilliant.

And it’s certainly not because of the writing by Mike Baron. His stories, painted in shades of gray of man haunted by physically painful dreams that are alleviated only by the assassination of murderers, even when the public may not know the target is a murder, is brilliant.

No, it’s tough to recommend because right now the only way to read Nexus is through very expensive hard cover “Archive” editions put out by the Dark Horse label. And yes, the archives are beautiful, but telling someone to plunk down $50 for comics in this economy goes against my principles.

So go to eBay and look for some cheap runs of the floppies (the monthly comics) or deep discounts on the archives. A buck an issue is a great value and, with diligence and patience, can be found.

Hte webs is hte awesome!

davidbell — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 21:35:53 +0000

“I’m addicted to the internet.”

Danny had a look on his face that I can only equate to that of a morose gibbon. Or Abe Vigoda.

So I tried to cheer him up by explaining that every guy is addicted to the web, at least for the first six months after getting high speed internet. I mean, there’s a lot of po…

“No! Not that! Well, actually, yeah, that too. But after a while I was just worn out, you know? Fatigued.”

Drained?

“In a manner of speaking. But I mean in general. Ever since I was laid off from Fernando’s Rocking Horse Emporium, and have nothing else to do, I can’t stop looking up stuff on the ‘net. Like original comedy webisodes. There’s one with the kid from Married with Children called Star-ving where he paints himself and the Parker Lewis Can’t Lewis guy as a couple of washed-up, loser former child stars and the thing is hilarious.

“Or Retard Policeman. I know I should hate it for the title alone but the star is so appealing and he’s in on the joke. Plus his partner is a monkey puppet and his parents tell him to plant weed on Mexicans. Tell me that’s not funny.

“And then there’s the music. Did you know that Tom Jones has covered every song ever recorded?”

Makes sense. The guys is 103-years-old. I’m pretty sure he did Mary Has a Little Lamb for Edison.

“You look up one song and see a dozen versions and that leads to another artist and then another. That’s the upside, finding something like James Taylor singing Don’t Let Me Be Lonely Tonight live, the Brothers Johnson singing Come Together and Merry Clayton’s version of Gimme Shelter.”

Who’s that?

“She’s the one singing back up on the Rolling Stones version.”

Huh. And I always thought that was Marianne Faithful.

“But there’s a downside too. Like Queen’s version of Saturday Night’s Alright (For Fighting). And don’t get me started on Hilary Duff’s cover of the Who’s My Generation.

“And I think I may be gay. I can’t stop listening to Robbie Williams Rock DJ.”

Not that there’s anything wrong with it. But if Danny starts wearing an ascot he’s off the no-check hockey team.

“Plus the blogs and forums. There are some funny blogs out there. You could learn a few things from them.”

Thanks.

“Like the Superficial. If you’ve ever hated celebrities, and who hasn’t, this is the blog for you. It’s got to be hard coming up with three or four vagina jokes per day but they make them all work.

“And the Meth Minute and eBay and Drudge and Adam Carolla podcasts and Amazon and…”

But this isn’t new. Everybody under the age of 30 knows about this stuff.

“Yeah, but I’m not under 30! I remember when TV was three networks and one independent channel. Now there’s so much! I can’t stop! Help me, man!”

This is why technology should be left to young people. Middle-aged people can’t handle the information overload. And no one over 40 should ever use the term ‘pwned.’

Hey kids! Comics!

Remember when the Sunday comics were one page for each strip. Like Prince Valiant, Buck Rodgers or the Katzenjammer Kids?
Me neither. I ain’t that old.

Anyway, those giant comics pages are coming back. Just not in the daily paper.

DC Comics is doing Wednesday Comics (that’s the day comics are put on sale at a comic shop – which we no longer have here in beautiful Lake Havasu City – anybody else miss R&S Comics?).

Wednesday Comics is a weekly 14-inch by 20-inch broadsheet publication (like the News-Herald), 16 pages with one strip per page, and running 12 weeks. Strips will be Batman, Superman, Teen Titans, Sgt. Rock and Kamandi, last boy on earth (think a Planet of the Apes vibe but with a bunch of talking animals). But it’s the talent that’s the big news. Joe Kubert, Mike Allred, Neil Gaiman, Ryan Sook, Walt Simonson and Kyle Baker on Hawkman (that’s Baker’s stuff above).

I don’t normally go in much for hype before something is published. But this sounds way too cool to not be excited.

Unfortunately I have no idea how I’m getting this. Hopefully Hastings will get it in. But if not, I guess I’ll have to set up an account at http://www.dcbs.com.