Kate Beaton!

There aren't nearly enough comics about history.

Wait, scratch that. There aren't nearly enough good comics about history.

No, hold on. There aren't nearly enough good comics, period.

Fortunately, Kate Beaton is making hella funny comics, many of which involve historical figures. Her linework is clear and evocative, her sense of comedic timing is great, and I really can't choose which of her comics make me laugh the most, because there are so damn many of them that leave me in fucking stitches.

Go to Kate Beaton dot com, now now now!

I never got to say "Thank you."

Shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, tits!


Thank you, George.

Who do you trust?

Okay, so it seems that the infamous '2 Girls 1 Cup' film is at the center of a court case to decide just how far the 1st amendment goes. And the judge responsible for the whole thing is taking some heat for a web site he maintained, which seems to have some smut of his own selection.

I don't know if his collection of naughty pictures represents some sort of conflict of interest. But I do know that I would have much more faith in a judge who knew a little something about the topic in question. I mean, you wouldn't trust a referee who'd never watched a game, you wouldn't trust a baker who only ate Wonder Bread, so why would you prefer a judge who'd never seen a money shot?

What's dorkier than dorky?

Imagine, if you will, the kind of mind that would do the research needed to answer this question:

What was Stanley Kubrick's favorite font?

Oh yes. A fellow got the chance to look through Kubrick's archives, and made some interesting observations about the man and the things he left behind. But between the history of the creation of individual fonts and arguments about whether sci-fi writers would have known what the official house font was at NASA, it seems there remains a great deal of uncertainty as to whether Kubrick's purported favorite font was actually used in his films or not.

Can you dig that? So much effort and knowledge and interest, and it's all focused on something even the most obsessive film fans probably overlook.

Glorious!

[typographica.org]

Excelsior!

Generally, I don't have a great deal of interest in Discovery News. Most of it seems to be the dry, simplified, stripped-of-sensationalism news that fails to interest the spectacle hungry like myself. Yeah, I'll probably chuckle when I read the story about an ancient coprolite, or the one where scientists stuck needles into elementary school children to see if their pain was better soothed by a mother's touch or television cartoons. But in general, not much there gets my attention.

But then I noticed a couple of interesting headlines right next to each other:

Robotic suit? Rocket man?


Robotic suit?
Rocket man?
Robotic suit?
Rocket man?

It's about damn time. Onwards and upwards, true believers.

Forward, fast

Going back to work next week. I've been enjoying (sort of) a two-week break between semesters. I say "sort of" because even though classes ended two weeks ago, I've been unable to be completely finished with the semester's work. There were exams, workbooks and stacks of powerpoint presentations to grade. There were essays to read, evaluate, and penalize for plagiarism. Then there were the on-line student records to enter, correct, and re-correct. And there were the students who, finding they were going to fail because of a lack of attendance, participation and work submission, began making desperate and repeated attempts to show an interest in passing the course.

All of these things took up time. And now, with half the break gone, I find it's time to start preparing for the coming term. As a condition of my employment, I am paid fairly well per hour of class taught with the understanding that I must consider myself compensated for the the work done outside of class.

Funny, but when I'm called in during my 'holiday' to clear up errors resulting from a lack of foresight, planning or effort on the part of management, I find myself less inclined to accept the terms of the contract with good grace.

Am I lazy? Oh yes. But am I justified in feeling like my employers are taking advantage of everyone on these sorts of contracts?

What do you think?

Ugly and beautiful

A long time ago I studied animation. Like, the actual nuts-and-bolts mechanics of making moving cartoons with paper and ink and film. Come to think of it, it was real 19th century stuff. Except for the plastic cels we used for the final project, almost all the other materials and technology would have been easily available 100 years ago.

Anyway, one of my fondest memories was of trying to figure out how something moved so that the motion could be rendered in individual poses and then animated on film. I suppose that computer animation techniques make that sort of thing somewhat quicker, and that motion capture just gets someone to make the motion and then it's recreated automatically.

But I liked the process of working out how the motion went step by step. And this little video made me think of that:

Dance, fat man, dance!

Why do I miss Japan?

Found an excellent video at dannychoo.com that nicely encapsulates a couple of the reasons I loved that place.

Yes, that guy in the plastic outfit is just cruising around Tokyo, looking for places to dance. On it's own, that'd be pretty entertaining. But he's done it often enough that lower-level celebrities want to dance with him.
But look at the people going by. This seems to be taking place around midafternoon, and no one passing by is even slowing down. Oh, sure, a crowd gathers to takehttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif some pictures once they're in a giant white box. Otherwise, though, it's just business as usual. Salarymen go to work, ko-gals ditch school to hang out somewhere, and a guy in plastic armor tries to bust a move for no reason other than he feels like it. And no one gives him any grief for it.
Hell, other times they join in.

Tokyo Dance Trooper at dannychoo.com

update: bonus video dancing with the dark lord of the Sith. Amazingly, they don't try to freak any of the people who dance between them. Some things can remain pure. Sorta.

Perhaps a clarification is in order...

That last post has been worrying me for a bit, and I feel like I should clarify. I do believe that white Americans, as individuals, are just as valid and valuable as any other human being. 1

Honestly, I grew up amongst them, went to their schools, and learned their ways as if they were my own. Honestly, I wouldn't mind at all if my sister married one. Hell, some of my best friends are white Americans. One on one, they can be good people.

But perhaps the problem is that I have similar reactions to most groupings of people: alternating between disgust, fright, pity, and outrage. Maybe it's just because they're the ones I see most often in the media that I tend to associate them with those negative feelings.

Rest assured, white Americans, I don't hate you personally. Singularly you're simply swell. It's you as a group I don't care so much for. The humans, that is. But I'm sure I'll learn to live with you, just as you seem to have tried to live with me. It's a simple dream, but a good one, I think.


1 That is, valued at approximately $23,260 when reduced to component organs and tissues or $14,515 as a single unit still suitable for labor, recreation or artistic display.

God damn it

Not many people I've met seem to embrace the idea of racism. Most people I've met who were raised sometime after 1930 or so seem to be more or less comfortable with the idea that it's not really acceptable to pre-judge people based on their skin color. They may not agree, but in general, they seem to get that most of the other people they have to live with are going to act that way.

In general, I agree.

But then I see something like this.


Just a couple of people trying to have a little fun at their wedding, no big deal. So why can't I get past the fact that all I'm seeing is a bunch of privileged white Americans pretending to dance like Negroes and laughing their asses off? Why can't I laugh at his spastic attempts at rhythm? Shouldn't it be funny that the song is about liking a black woman with a big butt, and this guy seems so enthusiastic about a nondescript white woman with no ass at all? The fact that they went on Ellen Degeneres' show to recreate this should just be something to smile over, but I can't. And when I see all the copycat videos posted with other happy white couples doing the same thing, I can taste bile and blood in my throat.

Why the hell can't I laugh this piece of stupidity off?