Monthly Archives: January 2011
Just got back from my NYC-Boston-CT trip so I don’t have anything prepared for today. I’ll have more on the adventures in hipster-land when I recover. Here’s some hipster art for ya:
I’m going to see The Decemberists this evening after a subway, train, and car ride to Boston. It’ll be worth it to see my favorite band. I have most of their albums, but haven’t had much opportunity to savor their new album, The King is Dead, though I’ve heard a few songs and they are up to par. It’ll just be exciting to go to a concert since I haven’t been to one in forever.
One thing I am hopeful for is getting some Decemberists merch. I’ve lived this long a Decemberists fan and have nothing to show for it. I’d be interested to see if they have American tour posters that look as good as some of their previous posters. If not, I would like to get my hands one one of the older ones, because I’ve seen so many incredible designs from their European tours.
I didn’t post yesterday due to several personal issues. Suffice to say, hot chocolate repairs *most* ills. I don’t have the energy to do a creepy hit-that post, which I’m sure some people are grateful for.
This morning I was rustled out of bed, bleary-eyed and testy in order to shovel 15 inches of snow. After several complaints, being that this was some of the thickest snow we’ve seen and Dad was dead-set on doing it himself this time (he had paid people to shovel the last few times and it was starting to thin his pockets), my step-mom began rummaging through the garage. An ancient, cobweb-covered snowblower was produced. We had a snowblower? Seriously? This is the forth or fifth time we’ve had to deal with half a foot or more of snow and we had a snowblower? There’s a catch: This snowblower is older than I am. My parents do not throw anything away. They are from a time when American ingenuity meant that things were built, according to some sort of unspoken ethical law, to last. Once we got it going, it went, but it is taking some muscle power to run. It is better than shoveling, but probably not quicker. It’s like cutting your grass with one of those really old grass cutters that just rolls along, but knowing it’s better than using a scythe.
Another issue I had to complain about that happened yesterday (one of the reasons yesterday was just falling apart) was that my new netbook refuses to connect to the home wireless. It will acknowledge the wireless. It will connect to the ethernet. And like a filthy prostitute it will connect to any open wireless network in the area. If anyone can answer this query, let me know. I think I know the problem: I tried to set up a “home network” to just connect my computer and the netbook, but I made the mistake of letting both computers know that there was a third computer that was the network home (my Dad’s computer). When I decided the whole thing was a bad idea because it was going to require getting his computer involved, I dropped it, but now the netbook is like, “wait, weren’t we doing that thing? Hey, guys?” and now it doesn’t want to do Internet, it wants to network. Yay…. Here’s your pic for the day:
Here’s the plan: Every superhero comic/show/videogame/*concept* is being made into a movie. Why not the most brilliant piece of liberal propaganda that
brainwashed captivated us all as kids? I speak of none other than CAPTAIN PLANET! (By Odin’s Raven! Is that another one of those ancient sites I bespoke of? Sarah, come look!)
There was a hoax going around for several months leading poor fan boys into believing this movie would some day exist. It would star none other than Brad Pitt and be directed by the Wachowski Brothers (and have Hugo Weaving? What villain was he going to be?). They even went so far as to create a fake domain name, though nothing exists there. Ergo, since all this hype was raised for nothing yet *everything* else nerd-boys love is getting recognized, it’s the next logical step. It’s also a good study on seeing how we can further cheapen the goals of our current ecological endeavors:
Today is still a bling post. Captain Planet was all about the rings. Five kids brought together by nothing else but big, honking pimp rings. They looked like glass or kind of plastic-y and when fans got replicas they always looked cheap. That’s not going to sell in modern America. If we are going to bump this up, meaning merchandisemerchandisemerchandise, we have to have nice rings, sexier clothes (what is Ma-Ti wearing? Jungle clothes? No.), and a much hotter Gaia. I can help with one area. Here are some rings I think the producers & designers should consider:
(Via Style Hive)
(Via Antique Vintage Engagement Rings)
Call me if you make a decision! We’ll do lunch!
I have a New Year’s Resolution: Be as fierce as the Owlbear! What a magnificent and handsome beast be the Owlbear, so strong and robust (I like my coffee like I like my Owlbears).
When I was an aspiring author at the ripe young age of 8, I had completed a story about a hunter by the name of JoeJoe (if you’re a fan of Who’s Line Is It Anyway you will keep thinking “the Mutant Small Person”). JoeJoe apparently wanted to hunt a big, “sloppy” bear and when he came across said monstrosity he was chased back into his castle (hunters lived in castles in my world, baby). JoeJoe missed out on his chance. At first, my thought was, “I’m JoeJoe. I have a cowardly and defeatist attitude about my fears. When I see something, I will not consider how best to approach it and as soon as it looks scary, I run.” … Okay, that is me. But the point is that had I but *known* that Owlbears existed back then, I would have made it an Owlbear and JoeJoe would have been ripped to shreds before he could escape. And I probably would have been sent to a therapist.
The brilliant piece of fiction can be found here (part a) and here (part b). (If you are concerned it’s going to be long because it comes in 2 parts, don’t be. These are pics of a stained sheet of paper from 20 years ago.)
Bears have been a part of my growing up. When I was young, I was even called “Betsy Bear”. Next comes the owl part. The blog even has “owl” in it because for a long time I’ve looked up to owls, often seen to be harbingers of death (not the ideals of wisdom as so many misinterpret thanks to silly Greek Mythology). I even have an owl that watches over me:
His name is Nunnos. I’ve had him, thanks to my friend Zanders, for about 10 years now. I also have several mini-statues and arcane pieces collected over the years. Wait, they’re harbingers? Does that mean these figures are wards or am I welcoming death with open arms? Guess that would explain the icy chills.
When I began playing D&D I found there existed a monster called an “Owlbear” and thought it had to be some sort of model of perfection when it came to monsters. Turns out it is rarely used amongst my friends. Possibly because it *is* so awesome, they are afraid of not simulating the correct Owlbear personae. So I bring to the world a post dedicated to the wonder that is the Owlbear:
I found what appears to be a game story writer who dedicated a series and several images to these marvelous creatures. His name is Jon Hodgson. I really like some of the work:
I also found a *really* old fan post from story games: i stab you in the hope with my ennui for Owlbears.
And last, but not least, you can find D&D shirts and fun doodles @ TheOwlbear.com:
If you love these hairy, feathery lugs as much as I do (and you should!), you’ll check this stuff out.
My Dad, Step-Mom, & I accidentally flipped to this while watching dinner:
(And I thought the drugs Jim Henson & Co. did back in the 70’s were powerful.)