Monday, May 26, 2014

Illustration Friday: Universe

The Third Testament, according to me:

And lo, did it come to pass, that the polar ice caps did melt, and the seas did rise. And the people wailed and gnashed their teeth, and cried, “Oh Lord, why did you not warn us?”

And yea, did the Lord sigh heavily. “But you people must have known that you were poisoning your air, trapping carbon dioxide, and contaminating your food supply. Wake up, and stop lumping beliefs in with each other. Throw rotten kumquats at those who would convince you that caring about your environment is somehow tied in with religious and political decisions. It isn’t. You can believe that global warming is an ecological disaster, and still feel that Obama is a lying schmuck, if you wish. Science isn’t your enemy, it knows no religion or politics. Stop being so stupidly ideological.

“Science?” asked the people, “but why then does Your Good Word say that the Earth is the center of the universe, and was created in six days?”

“Look,” spake the Lord, “Thousands of years ago, that’s what made sense to a bunch of goat herders. They looked in the sky, saw things moving across it, and said, ‘Hey, the heavens are just a bowl on top of the ground.’ That was as far as their knowledge reached, so they made sense of what they observed. Now some of you look at the sky and think, ‘Lookie that, everything is moving away from each other really fast. In order for that to happen, there must have been some sort of really big bang aeons ago.’ Who knows? A hundred thousand years from now, you might have proof that that’s true, or that theory may turn out to be as silly as uber-knowledge-giving apples, and talking snakes. I gave you eyes to observe, and brains to work things out.”

“So, wait,” the people said, “You’re saying the story of Adam and Eve isn’t real? I'm not descended from a monkey!”

And the Lord’s face grew red, and he shouted, “No one ever said you were descended from a monkey, someone just figured out that you had a common ancestor! Jesus Christ, people, why do you think a pig’s heart valve is compatible with a human body?”

“So... You’re saying we’re descended from pigs?”

And thus did the Lord slap His forehead and rub it vigorously, for He was getting a migraine.

“Ok,” He spake, “Here’s what you need to know. If you truly love Me, and want to do My work, then for fuck’s sake, use the brains I gave you to seek out how My universe actually works. That’s the only way you can do that. Do you idiots think you just pray for healing, and it magically happens? It happens through the deeds of others. Those deeds can only be on level with your current level of knowledge. Some self-serving bastards have convinced you that evolution is evil, but you still give antibiotics to your kids when they’re sick. That came from evolution, morons. I’ll say it again: You want to do My will? You want to be My tool for answering prayers? Then stop insisting it’s sinful to look beyond what hut-dwellers thought thousands of years ago. Use your brains. That’s why I gave them to you. Learn how My universe really works, so you can do My work.”

And the people did look at each other, and said, “But if we do that, won’t we have to vote for Hillary in 2016?”

And yea, did the Lord let out a cry of celestial annoyance, and dissapeared into the aether. And thus did the seas rise, and those with cunning knowledge and foresight did own beach-front property in Ohio, and charged a fat wad for access.

The word of the Blog.


Thursday, May 22, 2014

Schmaltzy, I know...

Text this to someone you know tonight. You never know who needs to hear it.


Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Good hunting, Alpha I!

I hooked up my new PC to the flat-screen television. Unfortunately, it came with Windows 8. Everyone wants to pretend their desktop is just a giant smartphone, right? Ridiculous operating system or not, retro-gaming on a wide-screen TV from your couch is just fun.

Quake I - the best FPS ever made (with the Darkplaces engine.)

Tie Fighter. Why oh why isn't there an updated version of this game? I would seriously throw money at you, Lucas!

Watching YouTube is fun too, you don't get the blocks with browser viewing the way you do through the Xbox or Wii. I had fun torturing the kids with 80's videos. According to my ten-year-old daughter::

"Land of Confusion": too weird.
"Take on Me": too romantic.
"Holy Diver": too scary.
"Just a Gigolo": too many girls without pants.

In other news, a security guard was shot Saturday night at the bowling alley right around the corner from my home. This is where I take my kids, where I've had birthday parties for them, for Christ's sake. It horrifies me that this can happen on my block. I feel like screaming the "in my bedroom" rant. from Godfather II. Seriously, what kind of piece of shit does that?


Sunday, May 18, 2014

(Modest) Genetic Lottery Winner

Apparently, I can scrub up halfway decent. (With most honorable Papa-san.)


Tuesday, May 13, 2014

The Gospel According to Me

“I hate to bother you guys, but I have a real problem here.”

Over Jesus’s shoulder, Haniel could see Puriel rolling his seraphic eyes. “What do you need, boss?” he asked.

“I had this great idea, that I would make a few loaves of bread and some fish feed five thousand people. Look, I admit, it’s a little ambitious, but I’m sure it would really win them over.”

“Uh huh,” said Puriel. “And how do you propose to do this?”

“Well, obviously I stopped time-”

The angel gestured to the frozen multitudes. “Obviously.”

Jesus shrugged. “Yeah... I was going to go fishing for a few months, and bake a shitload of bread,” he said, “but with time being frozen, the water’s frozen too, and fire doesn't burn, so that’s out.”

“Yeah,” Haniel said. “Look, kid, we’re on the clock here. Freezing time takes a lot of energy.”

“Besides, we’re strictly here to carry out plans, not make them,” said Puriel. “Union rules.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Jesus said. “But maybe you guys could help me out, just this once?”

Haniel sighed. He rubbed his hands together. “Ok,” he said, “have you tried the multiverse?”

Jesus stroked his beard. “The multiverse?”

“Sure.” Haniel said. “It’s easy. You just talk to all the different Jesuses in all the alternate realities that don’t have to feed 5000 people today. They each give you one loaf of bread and one fish. Then, when the time comes, you trade something back to each one of them. A fish, an egg, lamb chops, whatever. It’s not going to be exactly the same.”

“How about a gold coin?” Jesus asked.

“Oh yeah, like that would work,” said Puriel. “Think. Caesar’s not going to be the same across the different dimensions. Each coin would look different.”

“That’s true,” said Jesus, “Especially in the reality where I have three heads.”

Haniel whipped out his Android. “Ok,” he said, tapping in a few calculations. “I have it narrowed down to five thousand multiverses where there’s no feast today, and the fish and wheat aren't toxic to the people here.”

“Oh,” said Jesus. “Well, do I ask-”

“They’re all coming up with the same idea at the same time,” Puriel said, as, with flashes of light, thousands of Jesuses (male and female) materialized, fish and bread in hand.

“It’s all here,” Haniel said, pointing to his smartphone. “I’ve got a schedule down for you. Tomorrow is fig day. You need to bring three figs a day to dimension 54b through Alpha-6 by sundown for the next four and a half years, or the miracle in those dimensions will fail, and the critical amount of souls won't be saved. Can you do that?

“Easy,” said Jesus, as his trans-dimensional brothers and sisters piled the fish and loaves before him. “Fig trees LOVE me.”

(The word of the Lord.)


Monday, May 12, 2014

Random moments of my life...

I woke up this morning with The Electric Company's sign songs in my head. Can't blame Z100 for that. "I like fish food, you do too... Don't look now, your hair is blue..."

Is it just me, or does the new Godzilla movie look like it's taking itself WAY too seriously. No Gamera or Mothra? Where's the fun in that? And now people are actually saying that the new Godzilla looks too fat. These are probably the same scrotal sacs who think that Cookie Monster needs to eat vegetables.

I have no idea why, but I have this recent obsession with the old DOS (and yes, I know it was on the C64 first) game, Impossible Mission 2. It's still impossible.

My aunt-in-law gave my daughter a feather boa, which she loves. Of course, there are fake purple feathers all over the apartment.

And in other news, The Schmoo was apparently murdered in our parking lot at work...


Sunday, May 11, 2014

There's nothing on. I just wanted to say hi. I hope you had a happy day, and that life is being good to you.


Saturday, May 10, 2014

Brain Surgery via Minecraft

Hello there. It's Saturday. It's been boring so far. All week, I don't want to be at work, and then when I'm home, I'm too tired to do the things I should do for myself. I just don't know what to do for me anymore. I pigged out way too much today. My own way of dealing with things. Not a very healthy one.

I'm working on Illustration Friday. I'll be home alone tomorrow, so I guess I'll get started on Chapter Nine then. It takes concentration, and I don't feel like I have any at the moment. It's one of those days when nothing I do really makes me happy. Nice just to be around the kids, though. Some jackass tried to scam me earlier via text, wanting $600. I told him I spent all my money on my breast implants, but when my daddy came home from the precinct, he could give me a ride and we could "work something out." Didn't text back. Amateurs.

That sucks that the Xbox 360 browser doesn't support flash. Nothing supports flash anymore, which sucks, because there's so much great content out there. You would think everyone would adopt it as a fuck you to Apple, but no. I'd love to chill on the couch and play tower defense games on my widescreen television. Yes, I'm ambitious.

I keep having dreams where friends yell at me and tell me how stupid I am. Seems to be a recurring theme. Fine, I admit it. Maybe I can dream about something else now.

Wouldn't it be really cool to be able to tap Minecraft into the subconscious? One the outside, it would be all grass, and jungle and birds, etc. Then when dug down, there would be hidden treasures, secrets, and monsters below the surface. You could mine for buried memories. Then, when you got too close to the truth about yourself, the Endermen would come for you. The End and the Netherworld could be manifestations of your id. So you could either reorganize and restructure your brain, or get sucked into the lava of your own inner void by ghasts.

I think I would seriously enjoy that.


Friday, May 09, 2014

Between the (Avant Garde) Lines

My daughter came up with a new one this morning: "Waking people up is bad manners, say you're sorry!"

A guy at here keeps a jar of pickled pig lips to snack on. There is no logical reason why they should be any more disgusting than any other porcine organ, they just are.

I'm in the trailer at work, thinking of ideas for a cheesy avant garde play or art film. The thing is, unless you're going for sheer Dadaism, it can't be all gimmick. It still needs a good plot to hold it together, or at least be really, really funny. Humor can forgive a multitude of sins.

For example, there's a can of Vienna sausages, atop of a deck of playing cards. How about a two-hander about a couple who play cards together all the time. They constantly eat canned sausages throughout the play. The dialog can be nothing but hooks. "Happy almost birthday, I'm sorry, I know it really upsets you, being so close to (incoherent while eating sausages) Day. Still, at least it's better than the time we ate shrooms, and you (incoherent)." "You bastard, you promised you'd never bring that up! It's not as bad as when you (incoherent sausage munching) with the neighbor's (incoherent)!"

I'm sure there's some Freudian subtext there.

I lost a good friend recently. When you can, tell the people in your life that they are good, that you're sorry for any hurt between you, and that they are wanted, needed and loved. Life is too short.


Thursday, May 08, 2014

And their idiotic phone taps too!

I thought I could stomach the constant Z100 crap my partner listens to at work, but now I'm waking up with that insipid teenybopper drivel in my head. "Because alllllll of me loves alllllll of you, love your perfect imperfections... Don't go crying to your mama, cause you're on your own... Talk dirty to me (and no, not Poison...)" Someone please shoot me?


Wednesday, May 07, 2014


I finally have chapter eight scoured to perfection. 62k words and counting. The speed, or lack thereof, is killing me.