Lucidity

The Lucid Sound reading went better than I could have hoped. We all had a blast doing it, and I personally freed myself up a bit and tried a few new things in front of the audience. Everyone seemed to enjoy it quite a bit, so that was always nice. And it was great working with Clark, Cassidy, Brooke, Michael, and Jason, none of whom I'd acted with before. And Sam's a pretty good director, I guess, but don't tell him I said that. The consensus I got after the show is that the kids cannot get enough Jean-Jean.

Of course I've had Andy's music stuck in my head all day. But that's all right. I really liked that music!

After the reception thingy I, along with Paul, Nell, Brooke, and several of Brooke's friends went to Renee's around the corner. It was hot and noisy and kind of awful, but Nell and Brooke are charming enough company that it was pretty bearable. And Brooke's friends were nice. Brooke ended up relating this conversation she'd had with her boyfriend Ben about me that ended up being one of the nicer compliments I've received in recent memory. It was sweet. And it's great that Nell's back from PA, because she's pretty awesome.

All in all, an extremely successful evening. If you're reading this and you came out, thank you.

Time to move on

Travel about the Southwest with Ali.

Speaking of San Diego...

Which reminds me, I never did finish my Comic Con wrap-up. This is mostly for my own benefit, so I remember things.

SATURDAY

-We sleep in late again, and when we get to the Con I head for the Cup O' Joe panel with Marvel EIC Joe Quesada. The most delightful news for me is the announcement of a new Peter David X-Factor series. Hooray! Meanwhile, Emory and Ethan set up their permanent residence in Hall H. They were there the whole day.

-On the floor I run into Ethan E and Meredith. Ethan is sporting Teddy Dunn's badge (Teddy Dunn being the actor who plays Veronica Mars' ex. Ethan works for Joel Silver, see, and Silver produces Mars), which gives me a belatedly genius idea. I could have called Frank, gotten details about the class he and Teddy Dunn had together, and then gone to the Veronica Mars panel and insisted I WAS Frank, armed as I would have been with personal anecdotes and a badge with Frank's name on it. I totally missed my chance to prank Teddy Dunn. I kick myself.

-I decide I want to see the Serenity panel enough to wait in the ginormous line, so I do so. For an hour. But I get in! Ethan and Emory have managed to save a seat for me. Joss Whedon and the cast are as funny as ever. They are all a bunch of smart-asses, and I love them. Adam Baldwin turns out to be alarmingly earnest. Nathan Fillion is the biggest ham on planet earth. I remember when Fillion was just tagging along with Whedon two years ago, when Whedon was relegated to one of the mid-size panel floors. Now they've filled up a 6,500-seat auditorium. Nice one, guys.

-My direct deposit has gone through, so I bought a couple of T-shirts. One of the Flash logo, and one with the NERV logo (you know, from Eva).

-I figure the King Kong panel and Tenacious D would be cool to see, so I head back to Hall H, only the line is roughly the length of seventy football fields. I give up. Apparently it was awesome.

-That night I Leslie and I drop Ethan and Emory off then meet everyone else at the Masquerade. We're out in the signing area, watching it on a giant screen. These guys in front of us keep standing up and blocking our view, so we yell at them. Meredith threw a plate.

-Jenni and Laurel sneak in a bottle of rum within several 20 oz. Cokes. Asa, Laurel, and I consume them with vigor.

-After the Masquerade there's a DJ and dancing, and everyone dances except me and Mike and Jesse. We're too cool to dance. And despite polishing off a third of a bottle of rum, I am not drunk enough to dance, either.

-We head back to The Field, and I spend most of the time outside where it's cool. Asa gets really mad at me for calling him "dawg." It's ironic, Asa.

-Mandy has me film her and Quin making out. Yeah, I don't know, either. But that's going to be some documentary!

-Leslie goes home, and Jenni offers to give me a ride so I can stick around. One the way to the hotel I get literally every turn wrong. Jenni gets understandably pissed. I apologize profusely, and I really do feel bad, but c'mon, Jenni needed directions every time she came to my house, and we lived about five blocks away from each other.

SUNDAY

-Leslie drops me off at the Con and she, Emory, and Ethan head back to LA to get Ethan on his plane home. I go to the last webcomics panel with Paul and we learn more about T-shirt sales than I ever dreamed possible.

-I but some Oni comics, and just yesterday I learned that the creators of BOTH books I bought were signing at the Oni booth just an hour before I bought them. Nice timing, me!

-Paul, Mike, and I drive back to LA. Traffic is bad, so I read my new comics twice.

THE END

I say 5

I'm taking bets on how many years it will take San Diego Comic Con to officially change its name to something like San Diego Pop Culture Expo or whatever. Just how long will it take to get that "Comic" out of there? When the Oscar winners start showing up, the winds are changing.

The trouble with Rogues

Frank, Emory and I were discussing the Flash movie last night (the maybe/hopefully one with David Goyer writing and Ryan Reynolds starring) and had a lot of trouble deciding who the best villain would be for Flash to fight. The problem with most of Flash's rogues gallery is that they're pretty damn ridiculous. Captain Cold or Weather Wizard are only cool in Geoff Johns' Flash run because he plays off of how ridiculous they once were. A villain in a Flash movie would have to be cool right away. Reverse-Flash is awesome, but shouldn't be done in the first movie, so the general concensus was that the villain should be Gorilla Grodd, because telepathic ape-supremacists are always in style.

As much as I love Grodd, he might be a bit too out there for a first cinematic outing, so why not Mirror Master (the Grant Morrison modern age version)? He could work just fine, I think. Then Grodd for the second, Reverse-Flash/Zoom for the third.

There, Hollywood. We've done your work for you. Go forth and produce!

A night of terrible television

Emory and I stayed in last night to watch terrible television that Emory had accquired.

First, Emory had Netflixed the early-80's variety show Pink Lady. Widely believed to be the worst TV show of all time, Pink Lady featured an attractive Japanese singing duo who were gigantic in Japan at the time. The problem was, they couldn't speak English, so the producers brought in comedic anti-talent Jeff Altman to co-host the show. Cue lip-synched disco tunes and vastly unfunny comedy sketches! Emory watched one whole episode before turning it off in disgust. I only lasted about ten minutes. Man oh man, was it bad.

Frank came over a little later and we settled in to watch one of Emory's Comic Con purchases: Legends of the Superheroes, which I've mentioned before. It's really funny. To a point. Then it just gets tiresome. But it really has to be seen to be believed. And it must be seen. Asa and Alex, I'm looking at you, specifically. Corman FF levels of unintentional hilarity. Although, to be fair, I genuinely laughed at a few of the jokes in the first episode, especially Solomon Grundy's Heaven Can Wait reference.

Oh man, I haven't updated today

If I were teaching some sort of introductory fundamentals course about the pretty-good USA sci-fi series The 4400, I would call it "Hundy Fundys."


They can't all be winners, folks.

A bit about the Emmys

Sure, Six Feet Under (ugh) and Deadwood (yay!) got nods for best Drama series, but everyone should note that the only series writing award Emmy-favorite HBO is up for is for The Wire, specifically the episode "Middle Ground." Believe me when I assure you that "Middle Ground" is argueably the best Wire episode ever, thus making it one of the best single episodes in the history of televison. For those of you who've watched the show (all none of you), it's the second-to-last episode from season 3, the one that begins with Omar and Brother Mouzone's tense confrontation and ends with the death of a major character. The Wire has never been an episodic show, but this one has it all, as the full crushing weight of plots stretching back to the beginning of the second season come to a head.

I guess what I'm saying is that I'm hoping it will win.

Also, I like all the guys up for Lead Actor in a Drama Series, but there is acting, and then there is Ian McShane as Al Swearengen.

Maybe I fawn over HBO's stuff a bit much, but I'd do less of it if any other network made programming that was worth a damn. (Aw, come back Arrested Development and Veronica Mars! I meant besides you! You too, Battlestar Galactica.)

What's the catch?

Emory Netflixed the film version of Catch-22 this past weekend, and although I didn't think I would, I ended up watching the whole thing again.

The film, made by Mike Nichols and Buck Henry fresh off their triumph with The Graduate, was laregly derided by most everyone who saw it. I can say, even with Catch-22 probably being my favorite book ever, that I enjoy the movie very much. I can't possibly judge the movie properly, so ingrained is the book in my head, so I can't tell you if you'd enjoy it if you've never read the novel. But I can say that if you have read it, you should give the movie a shot. Check out who's in it!

Alan Arkin, Jon Voight, Martin Balsam, Buck Henry, Orson Welles, Charles Grodin, Art Garfunkel, Martin Sheen, Bob Balaban, Anthony Perkins, Bob Newhart. It's quite an assembly. Plus the film is beautifully shot and well-directed (although Nichols has confessed he was high the whole time), and damn funny, to boot. Give it a shot!

If you haven't read Catch-22, then I simply don't know what to do with you. Just rectify the problem immediately and notify me when you have. Then we can watch the movie!

PS - I want a sign that reads "What's good for M-M Enterprises is good for the NATION!"

All Star comics

I know most of you zone out the moment I bring up comics, but c'est la vie.

All Star Batman and Robin the Boy Wonder (yes, that's really the title), is a problematic book, to say the least. Admittedly I read it surrounded by people talking while I was more than a little intoxicated, but you'd think that would make the book better, at least. Here's a take from Paul O'Brien which largely falls in line with what I thought of it.

At the heart of things, All Star Batman is just yet another book that appeals exclusively to those who are already reading superhero books. Frank Miller writing! Jim Lee art! A re-telling of Dick Grayson's origin as Robin that is pretty much just like it was in normal continuity! Four pages of Vicki Vale in her underwear because shit, man, that's hot! It's all pretty embarassing and it'd be just about the last book I'd recommend to anyone who's not already reading comics, unless I wanted a prime example of How Not To Do Things. Too goofy to be taken seriously and too racy to be all-ages, it's just a genuinely weird effort all around. Well at least All Star Superman is still coming up, eh?

Meanwhile, over at Marvel, I can't tell you how relieved I am the the "Crossover" arc in Ultimate Fantastic Four is not a crossover with the original Marvel universe. That would have been the worst. Now I might conceivably enjoy the arc! Hooray!

Fame

Can't believe I forgot to tell this story.

I was out with my sister on Wednesday, since she's in town for a conference. The waitress at the BBQ place we had dinner at totally recognized me from Forget My Chrome Embrace. Allison thought that was hilarious.

We're fresh out of Brits

Since Brendan Gleeson and Miranda Richardson are joining the cast of the Harry Potter franchise, I have to wonder if there are simply any British actors left to fill any future roles.

Besides Rowan Atkinson, Hugh Laurie, and Stephen Fry.

On second thought, nevermind.

I remember watching that climactic scene in Azkaban when Snape, Lupin, Sirius, and Pettigrew all confront each other, and I couldn't help but think "Damn! There is some TALENT in this movie."

Potter, Potter everywhere

Finished off Half-Blood Prince last night. The titular mystery was pretty obvious, but the book was so pared down (especially considering how bloated Order was) that one hardly had time to notice. I won't go into much detail about plot things, in case you haven't read it, but I will say that the book almost felt a little TOO pared down. There were a few details I would have liked to have seen. But it's a good read, with a few truly great moments.

Hilarity!

Leslie introduced me to Acid Zen Wonder Paint last night. It's DELIGHTFUL.

Comics are good for you

I know I haven't finished going over Comic Con, but I'm kind of sick of it so here are some breif reviews of comics I got at the Con or that Leslie and Emory bought yesterday! Hooray!

Sharknife - How does one describe Sharknife? Well, it's the story of a busboy at a Chinese restaurant who uses magic fortune cookies to change into a robotic ninja powersuit-thingy and fight the mystical monsters gestating in the restaurant's walls. It's that kind of book. The art is occasionally incomprehensible, but the pacing is so rapid that you hardly notice. Imperfect, but a blast.

Blue Monday Vol. 1: The Kids Are Alright - The bastards at Oni had sold out of Scott Pilgrim by the time I got to purchasing stuff, so on a whim I decided to give Chynna Clugston-Major's teen series a go (did I spell her name right?). Anyway, groovy teen Bleu Finnegan and her friends get in a prank war with the boys while Bleu tries to win tickets to an Adam Ant concert. It's vastly more charming than I make it sound. Major's manga-inspired artwork is really delightful, and I always appreciate it when teenagers swear. I'll certainly be checking out the next volume in the series (I believe they're up to four).

Astonishing X-Men #11 - Whedon and Cassaday are confirmed up to issue 25 of this series, so it looks like they'll be doing X-Men comics for the next 10 years! Ah, but I kid the lateness of this series. It's still the best. Sure, it's one of those "decompressed" comics, but why be overly verbose when Whedon nails every moment perfectly? Whedon's rock-solid grasp of the characters and Cassaday's always-gorgeous art easily smooth out some iffy plot bits (uh, did Xavier just telepathically talk to a machine?), and Whedon continues to mine Morrison's superb run to maximum effect. Plus, this issue has the best "to be continued" blurb possibly ever: "Next issue: XAVIER'S A JERK!"

The new issues of Y: The Last Man and Wonder Woman: I love these books carnally. Although you can't tell me Rucka actually intended Jonah for this when he introduced him in the first issue of his run. OR CAN YOU?

100 Bullets Vol. 8: The Hard Way: Ah, it's been too long. This series is feeling a little run down, though, as this volume seems decompressed in the bad way. This story most likely could have been told in half the pages. Wylie's the focus this time around, and I think we finally have all the Minutemen accounted for. There's some major shakeups in this volume, so if you've been following the story you'll want to check this volume out, but I'm really starting to wonder how Azzarello will be able to stretch this story out to 100 issues.

The Boy Who Kept On Living

Loathe as I am to put down System of the World for any length of time, I nonetheless picked up Harry Potter 6 yesterday. I've got to keep my finger on the zeitgeist, you know. I'm about 350 pages in, and I'm enjoying myself. After the rather sprawling, meandering nature of number 5, this one's just humming along. No subplots to drag this one down, really (a la S.P.E.W. or Rita Skeeter in 4). I like what a smartass Harry's become, and I'm glad Luna's still a focus. Around page 150 I thought to myslef, "This book could use more Tonks," and then boom! there she was.

Mostly I just like saying Tonks. Tonks, Tonks, Tonks. I think on my list of names for my children, I will replace "Tonka" with "Tonks."

Comic Con: Friday

I keep forgetting things! Onward!

-We wake up late Friday, thus missing the V for Vendetta panel. You can tell who went, though, because they've all got V masks.

-I wear my Journey shirt, confident it will be the only shirt I wear this weekend that someone else won't also be wearing. I'm totally right.

-I skip the Jhonen Vasquez and Veronica Mars panels to eat lunch and roam the floor. Damn, that Leia was hot.

-I wait an hour and a friggin' half to get John Cassaday's signature on both the first issue of Astonishing X-Men and my Absolute Planetary hardcover (the sign said "No Sketches," dammit!). Cassaday is one handsome motherfucker. Cassaday later wins Best Penciler/Inker at the Eisners.

-Since Cassaday took so long, I miss the Brian K. Vaughn panel. I really wanted to see that! Paul consoles me by getting Vaughn's autograph on a Runaways trade Paul had borrowed from me before the Con. Awww! Since he signed my property, Vaughn wins Best Writer at the Eisners.

-A few of us attend the first Webcomics panel for more "research." There are a bunch of cool webcomics guys there, most of which I've even heard of! I'd link to them all if I weren't such a lazy-ass, but let me just say that Scott Kurtz is not afraid to say what he thinks.

-I meet Quin's girlfriend Mandy, who's shooting the documentary with him. She thinks my name is Frank, at first. She spends a good deal of the evening trying to get me to repeat on camera funny things I've said. I am convinced the documentary will just be about how none of us can find a party and/or get laid at Comic Con.

-We eat donuts that Jenni has in her car for some reason. They're delicious.

-Asa, Laurel, Jenni and I catch the season premiere of Battlestar Galactica that SciFi is airing in one of the big con rooms. It is awesome, but the sound is so piercing that we have to make makeshift earplugs from paper towels.

-While Emory, Leslie, and Ethan eat fancy food, I grab some pizza with Asa, Paul, Jesse, Laurel, etc. They head to a bar, but I head home, since I have become deathly ill. Meanwhile, Mike ends up at a Border's Harry Potter release party with Joss Whedon.

Lucid Sound

I'm doing a reading of Sight Unseen's fall mainstage, Lucid Sound at the Santa Monica Playhouse on July 28th. Andy Mitton, who directed Jumping Frog for the summer festival wrote the play, and Sam's directing it. I believe the Sight Unseen kids are looking for feedback on the play before it goes up for real. It's a guest list only affair, so if you're interested in attending, you should call (310)315-1477.

It's a pretty crazy play, with an extended musical sequence, and I play several characters, one of which is a spastic French child. How can you resist?

Comic Con!

This'll be an off-the-cuff, what-I-remember, stream-of-consciousness type of thing, okay? It'll also probably be really long and possibly very boring! Okay!

WEDNESDAY

-I drive down with Emory, Leslie, and Ethan H (I'm using last initials for Ethan so as to not confuse him with Ethan E when he shows up later in our story.) We hit some traffic and it takes FOREVER. Also, someone gently rear-ends us.

-We get to the hotel then drive over to the shuttle stop so we can get to preview night. When we get to the convention center, I have to wait in line with Paul for a million years to get his spare professional pass. I'll be spending the weekend as "Frank Smith," since that's the name Paul put in. Frank couldn't come. Booo!

-We only get a little bit of time in Preview Night, but it seems really crowded. The giant Optimus Prime is awesome all over. Emory buys about 200 dollars worth of bootleg DVDs, including the complete runs of the animated Tick, Freakazoid!, and Sam and Max. They're the greatest things ever.

-After Preview Night it's dinner, Freakazoid, sleep.

THURSDAY

-We get up early (the only day we manage to), meet Mike and Paul at the Con and find that the floor doesn't open for another half-hour. We stand around and see an awesome General Greivous costume.

-Since there are several panels this weekend that we consider "research" for our project, we head to an early panel about copyright law. It's actually kind of interesting. We manage to avoid every other law panel for the rest of the Con.

-After that, Paul, Emory, and I go to the Spotlight on Eric Powell panel, he being the writer/artist of The Goon, which is one delightful-ass comic, and the panel is hosted by Thomas Lennon and Ben Garant of The State and Reno 911!. Before the panel starts, a volunteer places name tage in front of all the mikes, including two extra for "Vin Diesel" and "Rob Schneider". Then Lennon and Garant announce that they're going to be writing the Goon movie, and that Diesel and Schneider will be in it and are on their way. Everyone's really excited, but Eric Powell just looks sad. As Lennon and Garant talk more about it, their plans sound less and less in-line with the Goon comic ("We're going to cast Chris Tucker as their fast-talking bartender friend"), and they keep calling Eric Powell "Rick", and Eric Powell just looks miserable, and finally he gets up and seems to be leaving the panel, but at the last minute he reaches behind the table, whips out a wooden chair, and SMASHES IT OVER THOMAS LENNON'S HEAD. Then Lennon and Garant run of the panel in a panic. It's awesome. It certainly enlivens the panel, since Eric Powell seems incapable of answering a question with more than one sentence. We leave soon after the theatrics.

-I spend most of the rest of the day on the Con floor, looking at stuff I want to buy but won't have the money for until Friday (the magic of direct deposit!).

-I get Eric Powell to sign my first Goon trade at the Dark Horse booth. The Goon goes on to win two big Eisners the very next night (Best Continuing Series and Best Humor Publication). This sets off the trend that if you were up for an Eisner, and you signed something of mine, you won an Eisner.

-I try to get Jim Rugg's signature (co-writer and artist of Street Angel), on my Street Angel trade, but he's choked off from human contact by the massive line to get Jhonen Vasquez's signature. Kids love the Vasquez. When the line's dispersed enough, Rugg signs my book and puts a little Street Angel sketch on the inside. He's really nice and I tell him I really love his book.

-Leslie, Emory, Ethan H and I grab some food, then Leslie, Ethan, and I head back out to party-hop with Asa, Jesse, Mike, Paul, Liz, Laurel, and Peter. We wander around a bit, but ultimately end up at the CBLDF Mirror Mask party. We're so late we don't even have to pay to get in. Sweet. Jesse and Asa are there when we arrive, and Jesse's already drunk on like half a Jack Daniel's. I spot writer Peter David, and we all try to get Liz to open-mouth kiss him. She doesn't. Quin shows up, filming his Comic Con documentary, and we all devise a reality series called "Secret Situations" that will get us all laid. Then Leslie and Ethan are tired and want to go so I have to go with them. Apparently the other kids went to a bar and Laurel and Liz were hit on by little Jeffy from The Family Circus. No lie.

More later.

Pet peeve!

People who do not use capital letters when writing on the internet (be it email, message boards, whatever) really irritate me. When did that become acceptable practice? "It's the internet so it's not real correspondence." Whatever. Did these people just learn to type, and skipped capitalization? Is it to save time? Is the shift key just that big a stumbling block? Hey, to end a sentence with a period and then put in two spaces takes THREE WHOLE KEYSTROKES. Why not just skip the period and end your sentences with the "tab" key? Like so!

"so then we went to the gap in the mall
the shirt selection was really bad there
what happened to that store?"

See? You can totally tell when the sentences end. Also a possibility: removing all vowels from words that are more than two letters!

"so thn we wnt to th gp in th mll th shrt slctn ws rlly bd thr wht hppnd to tht stre?"

Man, I have SO MUCH TIME NOW. I can finally take up knitting!

But seriously, this is one thing if you're a sixteen year-old in a Battlestar Galactica chatroom. It's quite another for 20-something college graduates who are ostensibly working adults.

(This post brought to you by the spirit of Jeff's Dad.)

UPDATE: Okay, so apparently Blogger won't let my big spaces appear and the tab button doesn't work either, thus totally ruining my joke. Why are you the enemy of comedy, Blogger? So I just hit "enter" instead. Anyway, you get the idea.

Con photos!

Summary is still forthcoming, but my photos from Comic Con are up. Mine are way shittier than Leslie or Mike's, so be sure to swing by their blogs, but I have a few gems. All my best pictures are of Leslie.

Back in the saddle

I have returned from the great beyond of San Diego. Comic Con was great (although not really comic-y), and I'll put up more details soon, but for now, if you have a fast connection and the magic of Quicktime, why don't you take a look at our much-lauded Mayday film?

Kudos and thanks to Psychic Bunny for getting the site up and running. It's great, guys.

The minutes are like hours

Man, combine anticipation for Comic Con with nothing to do at work and what do you get?

BOREDOM.

Everyone I haven't seen in awhile, now's the time to call or email.

Horoscope

Do you ever become paralyzed by reading your horoscope because you know horoscopes are bullshit, but the one you're reading seems to be giving you pretty good advice?

Stupid horoscope. Quit exposing my life as a sham.

I'm a Libra!

Bigfoot Lodge

Last night we skipped over to our new favorite hangout, the Bigfoot Lodge. It's all done up log-cabin style inside, the atmosphere is welcoming, and the drinks are cheap. It rules.

Anyway, Frank, Paul, Leslie and I went there last night to get some work done, not realizing that it was karaoke night. It was just getting started as we arrived. Everyone there was attractive and sang well. And when I say "everyone" I mean "the women," because DAMN. Adorable hipsters as far as the eye can see. What can I say? When a girl with purple hair and a Van Halen T-shirt gets up and sings "Mamma Said Knock You Out," I feel all funny inside. So sue me.

Anyway, Bigfoot Lodge. Hooray.

Rumblings

Hmmm. Whatever could this be?

God (and our work ethic) willing, you'll know soon.

Nuts

Had I a time machine and infinite money (one would of course yield the other), then you bet your sweet bippy I would have been at the Sondheim 75th Birthday Celebration at the Hollywood Bowl Friday night. Instead, I was simply caught in its traffic.

Let this be a lesson to me that I should actually check the Bowl's schedule myself now that I don't work there anymore and I have developed at least a passing interest in events that occur outside the confines of my apartment. What a difference two years makes!

Man, Cariou and Lansbury did "A Little Priest!" Stupid non-existent time machine.

He got Rocke-shot

Well, they did bump off the Rocketeer on last night's 4400. Now that show has to deal with the fact that its most interesting character is a baby. How awesome was it when Rocketeer was dying and whispered to Sean, "She lies!" That was awesome. A homicidal baby can go a long way.

UPDATE: To be fair, the Rocketeer's body had vanished by the end of the epsidoe, so maybe he has some heretofor unrevealed resurrection powers. Or maybe someone just stole the corpse. Either way, it was neat.

Weekend

Most adorable thing in history: Baby playing fetch with Odin. That baby's a genius!

Hangover on Sunday: Monumental. Haven't been that drunk since my epic prize fight with Jess.

Days 'til we leave for Comicon: Two. Might as well tell you now that you shouldn't expect blog updates from Thursday through Sunday. But when I come back, such tales I will have to tell!

New SMRT-TV issue: Up and about. I've got a review of the first season of Deadwood this time around. As you may have gathered, I like that show.

The Invisibles

I spent part of the weekend closely re-reading the last three volumes of The Invisibles, and skimming over a few of the earlier ones. As I told the crew last night, it remains my favorite work of fiction that I will probably never fully understand. If you've read the whole thing (all, what, two of you in my reading audience?) then I highly recommend Anarchy for the Masses, a book which breaks the series down issue by issue, makes many things clear (or at least clearer), contains conversations with most every artist and editor whow worked on the series, and concludes with an exceptionally lengthy interview with Grant Morrison.

For a series written on drugs (by Morrison's own admission), it's remarkably well thought-out. We get a bit of Dane in 2012 telling Gaz the story of the Invisibles as early as the third trade. That trade also has King Mob having a hallucination of when he will sleep with Edie, which doesn't happen until #5. In the end though, I'm not really sure why the Hand of Glory is so damn important, or why Satan is wandering around the whole time not doing much of anything, really, or which character (or characters), specifically, John-A-Dreams is supposed to have become. Still, most of it's excellent. King Mob's switch from guns to corporate jujitsu is all there and provides the emotional heart of much of the story. The Matrix series, for all its philosophical posturing, never did address that its main characters were all mass-muderers of largely innocent civilians, but Invisibles takes it in stride. As for the story overall, the parts all work, but they don't all necessarily work together. But unlike something like, say, Mulholland Drive, which has no explanation no matter how long you look at it, The Invisibles does make sense, at least to Morrison. It's how little he lets you in to his throught processes via the narrative that makes it so frustrating. You read his interview in Anarchy and you just kind of want to throw up your hands and say "Well, why didn't you just say so?"

Which isn't to say I don't recommend it. But there are chunks where it's a realy uphill battle to sort everything out. Still, there's nothing else like it.

Also, if I ever have a band (besides Cruciform, natch), I'm going to name it Time Machine Go.

Indicative

A short true-life play that nicely sums up the party at Frank and McKenna's this weekend:

Frank: Yeah, I was looking around at who was left at the party and I thought, "Wow, these people are DRUNK." I think it was around the time when you were pelvic thrusting.

Jeff: I, uh, I don't really remember doing that.

THE END


I mean, I remembered MOST of the party. Just lost a few bits near the end, I guess. I do seem to recall goosing Jenni. Sorry, Jenni.

Inappropriate, part deux

The Daily News' big, splashy headline about the terrorist attacks in London?

BLOODY HELL

"It's both an English expression and an apt description of what happend! Run with it!"

Not really the time to be clever, I think.

The ideas blast forth

To Emory and I's "Action Pack" (Including Dorff On..., Code: Bluc, and Boat City) you may now add Skeritt's the Sheriff!

Character actor Tom Skeritt has played quite a few cops in his time, but what happens when Skeritt is made Sheriff of an actual rural American town!?!? Can an actor from the big city play the greatest role of his career? Watch the sparks fly every week on Skeritt's the Sheriff!

Also, if Stephen Dorff doesn't want to do Dorff On... for whatever reason, I see no reason why it couldn't be Dourif On... Am I right?

True

These "True" ads that have popped up on the internet everywhere really creep me out. You know the ones? Just BOOBS and maybe LIPS or an ASS? But no eyes, though. That would get in the way of the dehumanizing objectification. One I saw today had some shapely blond down on a fours, miles of cleavage, eyes conveniently cropped out, and the caption said "Get passionate about love again." Yes, find true love with a girl... but never make eye contact with her! Why not just say "At True, you can find possible sex partners"? If I ran that company, the ad captions would all say "Find someone to stick it in." At least it'd be honest.

Oh, hi

When we came into Sardo's last night, there was this guy singing some song I didn't recognize, and I thought to myself "Damn, that guy looks like Seth MacFarlane." Then the next time he got up to sing the karaoke guy called him "Seth" and they bantered a bit and I got the chance to hear his speaking voice and I turned to Mike and said "That... that's Seth MacFarlane, right?" "You're right," said Mike. Maybe 15 people in the whole bar, totally dead night for Sardo's, but there was Seth MacFarlane. He sang Sinatra's "High Hopes" and Monty Python's "Galaxy Song." Sorry for the redundancy with Leslie and Mike's blogs, but it was pretty cool.

A lesson is learned...

Please, Hollywood. Please, please, please take the hint from the 19-week box office slump and come to the conclusion that perhaps you are delivering an inferior product and people have simply given up on you. Figure out that remakes of films or TV shows are not going to set the world on fire. And do NOT blame the internet pirates. Nothing could make me watch Bewitched, no matter how free it is.

Hey Disney, are the Coen brothers free of your yoke yet?

Inappropriate

Overheard at a BBQ this past weekend: "That girl's way too pretty to be that smart."

To which I replied: "I think you meant to say 'That gal's got entirely too many brains to have an ass like that.'"

Okay, I didn't really say that. But wouldn't it have been awesome if I had?*






*(Not really.)

Current C-list celebrity crush

Rashida Jones

Appeared on Chappelle's Show and Stella, and was the tough older girl who harassed Sam Weir in the classic Freaks and Geeks episode, "Kim Kelly is My Friend."

The Rocke-who?

Listen, all I'm saying is that if Billy Campbell gets killed on this upcoming episode of The 4400, my interest in the show will be severely crippled. I didn't buy his moralistic turnaround in the last episode (unless it was just a cover, but Isabel seemed to endorse him), and the fact that he took some time to expressly will the 4400 Center to Sean has me worried. C'mon, 4400. I just got into you. Don't let me down now.

Let the planning commence

I finally got around to looking at the panel list for Comicon just now, and nothing really yanks my crank. Okay, I take that back. Several panels yank my crank. But none shoot me into the stratosphere. And almost none of the panels that yank my crank are actually comic book-related. No Grant Morrison? Boo. Still, it should be good times.

The Inside panel should be interesting, seeing as how that show's being cancelled.

I've never seen an episode of Stargate: SG-1 in my life, but I'm more than halfway tempted to see its panel, just to witness Ben Browder and Beau Bridges sharing a microphone.

If he doesn't already know, no one tell Emory that both Starbuck AND Carla Gugino are going to be at Comicon. I don't want to have to bail him out of jail.

You know who else is going to be there? DINKLAGE!

Happy Fourth

This weekend I...

...caught the Global Frequency pilot, saw Ozomatli, extolled the virtues of Roadhouse, fell asleep in a crowded room, caught a fleeting glimpse of some caveman softcore, became a devoted fan of The 4400 on USA, went to the Bigfoot Lodge, went to Soren's birthday party, saw several Oxy kids that I hadn't seen in a long time, attended three different BBQs, worked on my SMRT-TV article on Deadwood, saw absolutely no fireworks due to a heavy fog that settled over the city of Santa Monica, and drank heavily every single night of the four-day weekend, yet remained remarkably sober except on Friday at Liz's.

It was GOOD TIMES.

Wait a minute...

Didn't I post something about The 4400? I could've sword I did. Did anyone see that? Weird.

Anyway, after Saturday's marathon, I am now addicted to The 4400. I approve of any show that has both the Rocketeer and a homicidal baby.

Adjusting

I need to learn to accept that occasionally my evening will end before 1 AM and that I should be totally satisfied with the many hours of socializing and fun I have had. I am no longer 19, and I cannot stay out until 4 AM every night like in ye olden times.

Someone needs to tell my brain this. Right now it's bouncing around my skull like an excited puppy dog, yipping "What's next? Huh? Huh? What now? What are we doing now? Huh? HUH?" Chill OUT, brain. You could stand to have a decent night's sleep. I guess.

Who'd have thunk it?

Emory has fallen totally, head-over-heels in love with CSI.

Yeah, I don't know, either.