So Say We All

Commander Adama has some wise words that government officials in Egypt should listen to.

Dodge, Dip, Duck, Dive, and Dodge!

in visiting the gin distillery as a fake professional, i accidentally discovered san francisco has adult kickball games. "adult" in this sentence, meaning "drunk". it's sort of like the physical version of pub trivia. and if it weren't the end of the season, i would've joined just to be a part of something so awesome.

but recently, i found that there are also adult dodgeball games. they play every monday for two months straight-- with team names like the Janitorial Honey Bees, DODGE DEEZ NUTTS, Stepdads, Sleazy Bandeezy, and the Bareback Jizz Club.


and, better yet, they hired me as their referee.

There will be referees provided for each match, but to use an old favorite, no douchebaggery allowed. If you get hit, drop any ball(s) you might be holding and get off the court. The ref has final say on calls. Do not start arguing with the refs. And always remember that we're just a bunch of adults playing a kids game. Just have fun and don't take it too seriously.

i imagine this job will be a lot like when i was a zombie at a haunted house-- it's just one of those gigs you have to take regardless of pay because it'll be a fun experience.

and i'm curious whether dodgeball or haunted houses result in a higher amount of testicle-kicking. sadly, i think it may be the haunted houses.

ultimately, i'd like to start my own dodgeball team to compete-- but this is a nice start. they've even given me one of those rad referee shirts that make you look like a human barcode.

no one is going to believe me when i say, "i draw cartoons and referee dodgeball tournaments."

but that may be one of those sentences better left unsaid anyway.

Love, Love, Love (Blah, Blah, Blah)

i was outside smoking, while trying to think back to being in love. i don't like drawing loving doodles without imagining the way they felt. i know it sounds cliché, but i think it's important to at least do the justice of imagining myself in love before drawing out someone elses moment.

this doodle was supposed to be a woman running toward her marine boyfriend after his three-month boot camp training. one of those moments where everyone else disappears and it's just the two of them being ridiculous and in love.

the problem is i've been a cold and bitter man this past year. like a refrigerated bar of soap with a penis.


thinking about love does weird things to my head.

whenever i go back to my most recent adventures in love, i find myself furious. thinking about its start and end reminds me of how i felt when i found out the jetpack in the rocketeer was not real-- except 49x worse. to think you've found someone who "gets" you, only to find out they probably get you even less than the average stranger is a horrible feeling.

it probably bothers me more than it should at this point. and it was a good half my fault anyway.

then after that passed, i thought blankly about love and the way i might best draw the marine. would he be wearing his hat, would it be in his hand, or would it just be flying off his head because he's running so fast toward her?


and i suddenly remembered my first love.

once, she got a speeding ticket trying to get from chico to san jose to see me. and when we finally were in the same city, she parked her car and we started walking toward each other quickly.

but something about the world was strange. it seemed like maybe the sidewalk wasn't moving beneath my feet as quickly as it needed to be. and i realized it was because walking wouldn't do it. i needed her immediately: i had to run.

we both ran and when we met, our chests slammed together like two football players being manly. we kissed for nine years, while holding each other as tight as two slices of bread might hold each other in a squashed grilled cheese sandwich.

i'm glad i remembered that feeling. it's nice to, occasionally, not hate love.

and then, just before i was done with my cigarette, i noticed the passing cars were slowing down. at first i thought they were looking for an address, but when i saw the scantily clad silhouette approaching i knew why they were slowing.

three or four cars passed by, each slowing down to see this mini-skirted glittery spectacle.

but of everyone there, i was the only one with the visual vantage point to recognize this streetwalker as a man.

actually, a boy. perhaps a seventeen year-old tranny.

usually transvestites don't make their way so far up the hill, but she was definitely a he.

i finished my smoke, thought again about love, then the tranny, and then went back inside.

love is weird. san francisco is weird. and i am really only qualified to draw one of the two.

...but please vote for my threadless drawing and i'll marry you.

What is the Internet Anyway?

between watching the social network and the video below, my mind is mildly blown.

the guy in the middle-- whom i'm told is brian gumbel-- is not only somewhat of a sarcastic asshole, but he seemed to think the internet was a phase not worth learning about. and even ms. katie couric was bewildered.

it's just strange. it's like that movie the gods must be crazy when a coca-cola bottle falls out of an airplane and lands in the center of at tribe of bushmen and they have no idea what to do about it.

the world before the internet.

i want to laugh at the news anchors and say, "you're all fools. how could you be so confused by the internet?"-- but now that we've all been online for nearly twenty years, i'm just worried.

there's just something odd about seeing people (who are still alive and young today) reacting like that to something that is so much a part of our every day life now. i'm sure people were not quite as dumbfounded by the television, radio, or car. but even if they were, those inventions grew so slowly most of the folks around to witness the births were well and old before it all became household products. the internet just boomed instantaneously and we never stopped to get used to it.

freaks me out. i'm not gonna lie.

anyway, please vote to help me have my design printed at an online store!

WILL YOU AT LEAST TELL ME THEIR NAMES?!

An anonymous email from someone who doesn't want to be identified.

Subject: SHARE SOMETHING ALREADY!

Message:
I've been following your blog for three months now and all I know about your completed first draft manuscript is that it's a dark fantasy, there's vampires and also some sort of cruel demon spirit thing that you ripped from Japanese folklore. Quit being so private and share something! CAN YOU AT LEAST TELL US THE NAMES OF YOUR MAIN CHARACTERS OR SOMETHING?! I MEAN COME ON!

Reply:
Sure I can. All you had to do is ask :p

The main character appears to be a young woman named Rei. But you know vampires--what with their longevity and all it can be rather difficult determining their exact age. Rei's inner circle is made up of her lover & partner, Naomi, and their mutual friend, Amara. The only man to play a major role in my story is Vincent. The main antagonist is Nyoka, otherwise known as Madame White.

Happy I could help.
    - Brad

*Note to my readers* If there's anything that you really have to know about the manuscript at this point, all you have to do is ask and I'll do my best to try and answer it (unless of course you ask something that I'm not ready to share yet, in which case I'll skillfully dodge your question) ;)

Review: Mythology - The Illustrated Anthology of World Myth and Storytelling by C. Scott Littleton

Product Summary

Myths are magic mirrors in which we can see the reflection of not just our own deepest hopes and fears but also those of people form the earliest times. Lying at the roots of much of our literature, art, and religion, myths represent the heritage of the world's imagination.

Mythology is a comprehensive, illustrated anthology of more than 300 myths from around the world which have shaped humankind's collective experience. It retells the stories in a modern, accessible style, bringing the exploits of gods, goddesses, demons, monsters, heroes, and heroines vividly to life.

Mythology features more than 700 full-colour illustrations, including photographs of artifacts and ancient sites, as well as imaginative artworks recreating some of the most significant episodes from the stories.

First Impressions

I've hoarded this book for more than half a decade, reticent to share it with others. Today--in an uncommon display of kindness--I've decided to break free of my selfishness and introduce you to C. Scott Littleton's Mythology: The Illustrated Anthology of World Myth and Storytelling.

There's no other way to put this--hands down, this is the best overview of world mythology I have ever encountered.

Spanning nearly 700 pages, it is a mammoth of an encyclopedia. The text is descriptive, entertaining and carefully edited, making for a light yet informative read. The book is absolutely packed with hundreds of relevant, full colour photographs spanning many aspects of cultural, mythological and archaeological diversity. There are paintings and murals, statues and pottery, woodwork and engravings, weaponry and armour, gems and jewelry, scrolls and other ancient documents--in other words there is no shortage of pretty things to gawk at.

Unlike inferior compilations, Littleton recognizes that there is more to mythology than the Greeks and the Egyptians. As such, the book is divided among thirteen distinct categories, topically sorted under one of the following labels:

- Egypt's Divine Kingship
- Ancient Mesopotamia
- The Glories of Greece and Rome
- Celtic Deities and Heroes
- Sagas of the Norsemen
- India's Eternal Cycle
- China's Heavenly Mandate
- Japan's Realm of the Rising Sun
- North America's Mother Earth, Father Sky
- Mesoamerica's Gods of Sun and Sacrifice
- South American Kingdoms of Gold
- The Ancestral Voices of Africa
- The Unseen Worlds of Australasia

My only criticism of this anthology is that the editor carefully avoids stepping on the toes of any Abrahamic religion, despite overwhelming and undeniable evidence of their mythological influence. For example, look no further than how the Mesopotamian Epic of Gilgamesh largely shaped the story of Noah's Ark, or the multitude of dying & rising gods that parallel the more legendary accounts of Christ within the New Testament gospels. That being said, I can understand the hesitation of putting out a book that infers that Christianity emerged in a similar fashion as that of Mithras or Isis, or to suggest that certain "historical accounts" may actually be more narrative than history. Fair enough.

Final Thoughts

Mythology: The Illustrated Anthology of World Myth and Storytelling is an impressive academic achievement that serves as an invaluable resource for the student, the artist and the curious. While this anthology by no means encompasses the totality of any one of the subjects, it is without a doubt an essential overview for anyone interested in mythology the world over.

And There Will Be Sorrow No More...

Father can you hear me?

How have I let you down?

I curse the day that I was born

And all the sorrow in this world

Let me take you to the hurting ground

Where all good men are trampled down

Just to settle a bet that could not be won

Between a prideful father and his son

Will you guide me now, for I can't see
A reason for the suffering and this long misery
What if every living soul could be upright and strong?
Well then I do imagine

There will be sorrow
Yeah, there will be sorrow
And there will be sorrow, no more

When all soldiers lay their weapons down
Or when all kings and all queens relinquish their crowns
Or when the only true messiah rescues us from ourselves
It's easy to imagine

There will be sorrow
Yeah, there will be sorrow
And there will be sorrow, no more

Congrats to Alyson Greene for Bagging an Amazing Literary Agent!

High school English teacher by day, YA writer by night, Alyson Greene has just announced that she has secured representation from Jim McCarthy at Dystel & Goderich Literary Management.

Please head over to her blog (Addicted to Heroines) or visit her on twitter in order to offer your congratulations. Best of luck, Alyson!

Once, I was a Super Hero

Fade in.

they say screenwriters begin all stories with that line because it helps them to stop staring at a blank page and to actually begin writing. i suppose it worked here.

so, i entered a t-shirt design in a threadless contest.

if they decide my design should be printed on their super-soft t-shirts and sold in their super-amazing t-shirt store, i'll be awarded $2,000 and an optional $500 in threadless currency or an additional $200 in united states currency. but, most importantly, my happy little character will be on shirts across the world-- and that is so damn rad i feel like i should invent a new word to describe it.

squippledashtastic.

also, if i'm selected, i'll probably opt for the threadless currency so i can get a good handful of the shirts to give out to friends, family, and particularly impressive stalkers.

This is what it looked like when I got superpowers this one time. It was pretty neat because my entire village saw it happen. But then, later on, I found that sometimes the act of getting superpowers can be more exciting than the superpowers themselves. My superpower ended up being the ability to eat a whole pineapple without any help. Also, it won't make me sick.

i want more than anything to see someone wearing my t-shirt. i imagine that must feel like what jim carrey felt when he heard first graders doing impressions of ace ventura on the monkey bars.

now, i know what you're wondering: how can i help you?

that is an excellent question, thank you for wondering!

for starters, you'll need to click this link.

1. vote for my design.

i'm not asking you to put shitty scores on other artwork in hopes to help me. i think that's just rude and i don't want any of that. all i need is that you rate me a 5, or click the little "i'd buy it" icon. go crazy.

2. like the design on facebook.

most of the designs have something like 400 likes and i have about sixteen. i want to say something about the tortoise and hare here, but i've never believed that to be a very truthful story. slow and steady does not win the race-- speedy but napping just loses the race. the rabbit shouldn't have napped. my dad always taught us as runners to sprint full-speed through the finish line. so like away, please!

3. tweet about the design.

preferably good things.

4. post it on your blog.

threadless even provides you with a nifty pre-made banner if you'd prefer to do it quickly. you are also very welcome to accompany the link with an embarrassing story about something thoughtless i've done in the past. there are lots of those stories floating about and they tend to help a surprising amount.

5. leave lots of comments on threadless.

if you're at a loss for words, i would suggest comments about how you would buy the shirt and/or have sex with anyone who wears the shirt. and how you would request they don't remove the shirt whilst you do the dance. or maybe something deeper.

6. don't text while walking your dog.

this has nothing to do with my design-- it's just inconsiderate. the dog deserves more attention. and you take up the entire sidewalk because of the slacked leash.

also, if you don't believe me about the pineapple i am willing to do it on camera.

thank you all for the support. and if you don't plan on supporting me, thank you for greedily reading this blog-- that's pretty cool, too.

Review: Lament of the Lamb by Kei Toume

Product Summary

Kazuna Takashiro can't escape the pain of his past. Ever since his mother died, nightmares and visions have been eating away at him. When he  finds his long-lost sister, Chizuna, the two discover they share more than just a family name. The siblings are cursed with a disease of the blood - a disease that will turn them into vampires! As they resist accepting their destiny, Kazuna and Chizuna struggle to contain the craving that is the very essence of what they will become.

First Impressions

"My mother...even though she's cradling my sister, she looks so terribly sad. The memories I have of her are as faded as this photograph." - excerpt.

Lament of the Lamb is a seven volume horror/drama manga series with gothic overtones developed by Kei Toume. Officially it fits under the umbrella term "seinen", which is manga traditionally targeted to male readers between the ages of 16-30.

Although the first several pages masquerade as a traditional (albeit quirky) drama, the subtle foreshadowing and overall tone of the writing is especially dark, serving as a warning for upcoming events.

The main protagonist, Kazuna Takashiro, is a high school teen who lives with his "aunt" and "uncle". His mother died when he was quite young, and his father reluctantly chose to leave Kazuna with friends of the family so that he could attend to Kazuna's older sister, Chizuna, who had fallen gravely ill.

Upon starting a new art class Kazuna meets Yaegashi, a cute, albeit somewhat reserved young woman. After several days of bonding Kazuna sheepishly agrees to model for her still life painting. His problems begin when Yaegashi pulls out a bottle of blood red paint, and Kazuna begins to feel violently sick, passing out at her feet.

Resolving to learn more about his family, Kazuna tracks down his older sister, Chizuna, who reveals that the illness she suffered as a child was actually the beginning symptoms of vampirism. What separates Lament of the Lamb from the majority of vampire mythology is that it regards vampirism not as a supernatural affliction spread by the undead to the living, but rather, as an inherited blood disease spread through reproduction. Their father, fearing for Kazuna's safety, gave him up and moved away with Chizuna in order to tend to her. When Kazuna tells his sister about his fainting spells, she suspects that he too is afflicted with vampirism, and that it may have been overlooked by their father since women tend to show signs of the affliction at an earlier age than men.

Kazuna and Chizuna's reconciliation serves as the beginning of their new life together, and in many ways it also serves as the point where the plot begins to pick up.

Final Thoughts

The first volume is unusually slow for a horror manga. At nearly 200 pages, it's almost unheard of that no one dies, is maimed or murders another person. The only trauma inflicted in the first volume is limited to emotional and psychological trauma. I suspect that this may branch out in future volumes, however.

What appeals to me is that the author was brave enough to spend a great deal of time with character development, rather than hastily putting the main story into motion. Kei Toume manages this task gracefully and I never found myself bored or disinterested, quite the opposite in fact, as I am now even more invested in what the future holds for Kazuna than I would have been had Kei rushed the plot.

Lament of the Lamb is a slow, gradual build towards pain and personal destruction. Future volumes will (obviously) be reviewed.

Cats, Curls, and Homeless Competition

after the gin distillery, i had an overwhelming number of coincidental connections-- all of which were looking for an illustrator, and none of which were paid.

i figured since i'm not making any money either way, i may as well draw for whoever i can (so long as we get along) and if we make any money together we'll split it. and if not, i've got more for the portfolio.

but, it's weird. sometimes i feel like a cheap parlor trick. i've already said i am in no position to be illustrating for loving doodle considering my loving past. and there was one day when everyone seemed to want me to draw cats. LOLcats, or childrens book cats, or carmen the cat herself. i hate cats.

sometimes i find myself drawing something i have absolutely no interest in. and i'm not sure how valuable that is. i try to limit it.

but, most recently, i met up with irene mcgee (bay area stand up comedian, former real world star, former lyme disease patient) to design valentine's cards that are a little more... my style. they're sort of bitter or drunk. she's written out a good selection of slogans and all i've got to do is draw them out.


this is what's been keeping me busy-- amongst other things.

i really enjoy working with irene because every time we wind up at a cafe, she accidentally makes me look really bad ass. when we worked together on snap dragon, she loudly proclaimed, "steven you are amazing" upon entering the cafe and i'm pretty sure everyone around thought she was talking about sex. then, a separate time, we ran into each other by coincidence and i was dressed up for work. she made me stop so she could take a picture of me and giggle about how "cute" work clothes made me look. it was awkward, but it was still amazing because the way she did it made it look like we were complete strangers and she just couldn't resist.

when i heard we were going to meet in a cafe to discuss our valentine's cards i was psyched.

but i was attempting to draw a cartoon of her and arguing that in the cartoon-world curly hair needs to be simplified. she insisted curly hair be represented because it never is and because "curly haired people have better personalities."

i kept trying to draw a compromise, when a homeless man walked over and said, "i drew this picture of you. you can tip me if you like."

are you kidding me? this is worse than the time that other homeless man came up to me an a girl during a breakup and started singing "my girl" to us.

and she gave him $4 for that charcoal-esque black and white rendering. it doesn't look like her. it's well done. but it doesn't look like her. it looks like a well done drawing of a person-- just not her.

actually, the one in front of it-- on paper bag-- looks a lot more like her.

either way, i'll be posting a few of the valentine's cards as they're printed. and we're battling to get them into different stores as well-- so perhaps you'll see some... if you're the type to hang out in card stores.

No. 209

a lot has gone on in the past week (besides being pestered for not updating this blog.)

but before i even move on i'm going to go right out and say it: i fucking hate gin. i like taking christmas trees to bonfires, but i certainly don't enjoy drinking christmas trees. in fact, gin and its junipery failure of a taste has always been the only liquor i will refuse.

with that being said, i can explain the thursday night i promised i'd get back to. i would've written about it sooner if it weren't for little miss bitch-toes rendering me furious and sleep-deprived. plus, i wasn't sure how to write about it. i'm still not sure how to write about it. all i can say is i came home feeling like i'd just returned from my first day of kindergarten. i was excited like i'd never been, and in one of the greatest non-girl-related moods i've ever been in.

i found myself at distillery no. 209-- a gin distillery-- because russ (of loving doodle) had invited me and because i desperately needed to escape my house, mind, and familiar surroundings. a last minute invitation to a gin distillery is more or less the exact opposite of my typical nights.

it was like that cars song: just what i needed. well, like the title anyway.


i was easily the youngest, most under-dressed character in russ' entourage. and the minute i saw the friends he'd invited, i started to worry: they were all business-folk in business-casual to business-serious gear. lawyers, doctors, sales-people, entrepreneurs.

but before i could over-think the potential dangers of being the only long-haired penguin-footed kid without a real job, i was introduced to everyone.

and everyone was so fucking cool i had to excuse myself to have a cigarette and just think it all over. they didn't judge me-- in fact, they were impressed by my position as an illustrator. their sense of humor was about as dark and demented as mine, and every one of them was 100% open to conversation. i finished my cigarette and briefly considered that i was a dick for assuming their suits meant they wouldn't be nice to me.

you'll have to forgive me: it's mind-blowing to be surrounded by professionals who don't give me any form of disapproving eye.


between the new group of friends and the 10,000 gallon sci-fi-esque vat surrounding me, i was giddy and ridiculous. but i think we all were. the distillery was not open to the public-- it was open for us.

exactly why the distillery had been opened for us was an even greater surprise than being invited to visit. evidently, there are a few things i don't know about russ. for one, he's somewhat of a social coordinator amongst his friends and every single person i met was connected to him through either a cafe run-in, san francisco's kick ball team, or previous work together. even i was technically one of his colleagues.

the second thing i didn't know is that he-- and everyone in the room-- is a con-artist of sorts.

we got into the distillery because he had read that the liquor industry is a brilliant market. if you brand correctly, you can sit back and watch money flow. coincidentally, he also heard the sales-folk of no. 209 trying to evangelize their gin at a bar. and, after researching, he found that they were not only local but very new and interesting in marketing changes.

...so he wrote a letter to the president of the distillery, informing him that he was the president of a [made up] company named "fast forward" and that he runs a team of young professionals who visit local businesses and either write press about them, or fund them, or do other great things.

and boom. we all had our roles: i was THE ARTIST-- which explains why no one gave me an eye when i showed up in painty torn jeans and messy hair.


the story behind the distillery is rather magical, as well. the whole event was, actually. once upon a time, there was a rich man who went out into one of his many vineyards and started walking. after a bit of it, he came across a large brick wall which was covered in ivy.

"what could this possibly be?" he asked himself in the manner fairy-tale characters ask themselves things.

and when he removed the ivy, he saw the words DISTILLERY No. 209 printed largely on the wall. he had accidentally uncovered the 209th distillery in the united states-- from some time before prohibition, back when the government used to number each registered plant in order to insure a moonshine-free environment.

that man, at the time, was also wondering what sort of legacy he could leave his daughter. he already owned pizza hut, sunset magazine, and morton's steakhouse-- and his several vineyards-- but he wanted her to have something, too.

he picked gin because vodka is over-done and probably because he had no knowledge of whiskey. also, the process in which gin is made can be very much like wine-- especially in the united kingdom, where it's all done by hand.


this is where he experiments on new gins. in fact, he's made a kosher "for passover" gin-- which is probably the very definition of "niche market" if there is one. i asked the president if they had done research and accidentally discovered that jewish people really like gin, but she said no. it turned out the owner is jewish.

both ways, that's kind of cool. there are no other kosher gins. this can be like the liquor-version of adam sandler's hanukkah song.

so, let's get to the point:

the tour was about an hour and a half and we were taught that gin is actually just vodka with herbs and spices. read that again, please. they purchase 10,000 gallons of corn vodka (for a sweeter flavor) and drop in 25lbs of botanicals like juniper and lemon.

also, of that 10,000 galloons, only 5,000 will be made into the gin no. 209 sells. actually, let me take that back. only 10,000 gallons will be drinkable gin. the remaining 5,000 is what they call "heads" and "tails" and tends to be upwards of 190 proof-- it's sold off to konica & phillips where they probably use it for rocket fuel or battery acid.

"so when the process is started," nicole (the president) began, "the heads come out of this faucet and someone monitors it to be sure it doesn't go into our mix of hearts-- the good gin. then, when the heads are done pouring, he moves the faucet over to this vat: where the good gin goes. once it seems like the good gin is done, he'll move it back to the original vat so the tails will be discarded as well."

"wait," i said, "so there is a guy who's job is to basically drink the gin periodically and tell you whether or not it's heads, tails, or heart?"

"yeah," she said, "believe it or not!"

"are you hiring?"

she wasn't. yet. i have a feeling mr. heads-tails-hearts is going to have an unfortunate accident soon.

now, back to my original statement: i fucking hate gin.

there are several reasons behind my hate-- as well as most of yours. for starters, most of us tried gin back before we knew how to drink-- some of us, arguably, still don't know how to drink. but let me say this: the first time i had gin, i drank tanqueray because i thought it would give me more street cred. i had a whole pint, tried to woo a billiards employee into giving my under-aged self free beer. she didn't. she gave me her number and a very awkward hug.

whatever your gin-story may be, if it took place before you were out of college it's likely a bad story. and so then you swear off gin and go on believing it always tastes like christmas trees and always accidentally gets awkward girls' phone numbers.

part of this is because there really are only five popular gin companies to choose from.

the other part is that you likely tried an english dry gin-- the ones heavy in juniper-- bombay, beefeater, and tanqueray are all english dry gins. in fact, hendricks is one of the only popular gins that is considered a west coast gin. what that means is it's one of the only gins that ups the citrus taste in their liquor and down-plays the juniper (the christmas trees).

no. 209 is a west coast gin.

and, after the lengthy tour and conversations, we asked if we could try some. i believe that thought was hanging in everyone's mind from the start of the night. i'm just glad that i wasn't the one to have to bring it up.

however, it is illegal for us to have tried any of the gin within the distillery-- something about something and blah, blah, blah. so, for all intensive purposes, i must let you know in firm bold-face: the president of distillery no. 209 did not pour each one of us a nice glass of gin to try.

and now that i've gotten that out of the way, i can tell you it is quite delicious. i drank it without ice, tonic, or lime-- straight as straight can be and i liked it. it tastes nothing like christmas, and i feel like a small asshole for ever grouping all gin together as if it were only one way. it's like comparing bourbon to rye.

after the distillery, we all went back to the captain of the san francisco kickball team's three-story apartment where we proceeded to drink more alcohol and watch planet earth. as it turns out, i had been commissioned to draw him a birthday card a few weeks earlier and was now in his house, staring at my own loving doodle on his wall. that was refreshing.

a few of us talked "business" and i was offered some illustration gigs or experiments-- the kind where i make no money if they make none-- and i will likely take advantage of them. i also met the creator of pinch'd which is san francisco-based adventure site and definitely worth checking out.

the night was a drawn-out orgasm.

in fact, i've abbreviated this story because i could go on forever about how i heard a salesman pitching the idea of replacing the 25lbs of botanicals with 25lbs of marijuana and making weed-gin, or the phrase "gin and jews" for the passover gin. or the doctor who was unsure if it was unethical to have looked through his patient's insurance files to determine whether or not she was single. and whether or not it would then be unethical to have sex with her.

seriously, though. go try no. 209.

E-Mageddon! Kindle Sales Now Surpass Paperback!

NEW YORK (CNNMoney) -- OK, bookworms, now you can declare Armageddon: Kindle e-books have overtaken paperback books as the bestselling type of content in Amazon's bookstore.

Amazon made waves when it announced in July that Kindle content was outselling hardcover books. But industry analysts quickly dismissed that milestone, pointing out that paperback books sell far more copies than pricier hardcovers.

E-books have now vanquished their paperback rivals as well.

"This milestone has come even sooner than we expected -- and it's on top of continued growth in paperback sales," Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos said in a prepared statement.

In fact, for every 100 paperback books sold, Amazon has sold 115 Kindle books since the beginning of the year, the company said.

For the rest of the article, click here (although, I must warn you, I've already shared the most interesting part)

intoxicated poop segment: part civ

it's insane how busy things can get without a job. i half-imagined things to be opposite.

either way, my gentle apologies for the lack of updates here. i've been working on a lot of mini-gigs and most of them have a lot to do with valentine's day. so, for now, please enjoy the majestic ways of kimya dawson and her [president wishnack approved] alphabutt song.

there will be more tomorrow.

p.s. - the ads on this blog have gotten me my first official check, so thank you to everyone who was curious enough to click them and support my rambling.

Seven Ways that Sex and Writing are Exactly Alike

1. Many years pass before you have it, but once you've experienced it it's hard to go back to Saturday afternoons of Scrabble.

2. Those who claim to be the best at it are usually disappointing in reality.

3. Both require skill, dexterity, endurance, creativity, patience and practice to perfect.

4. There is no plateau; you can always do better.

5. While there are jobs to found in either market, those who truly love it would do it for free.

6. If it's going badly you may find yourself thinking about something else.

7. Either done right will end with a spectacular finish, while leaving room for a sequel.

Oh, the stuff that I come up with when I'm bored. Feel free to pass this along if you so desire :)

Review: Afterschool Charisma Vol. 2 by Kumiko Suekane

Recap Summary

St. Kleio Academy is an exclusive boarding school that caters to a select group of students: the clones of famous historical figures. With the lockdown of the school and heightened security measures in the aftermath of clone Kennedy's assassination, tensions are at an all time high.

Click here for my initial review of Vol. 1

First Impressions

Volume 2 picks up as the residents of St. Kleio Academy are preparing for the annual expo; a perennial fundraiser hosted by the school in which the clones are shown off  to wealthy business interests and political leaders alike as proof of progress for their financial investment.

Although everyone is busy preparing their routines and perfecting the minutiae of their outfits, the shock of Mozart's drastic act has yet to wear off, and the clones are left on edge.

All of the familiar faces are back, and three otherwise minor characters (Rasputin, Himiko and Joan of Arc) are fleshed out significantly more than in the previous volume. Making his introduction to the series is eccentric board director Rockswell, a helicopter diving buffoon who totes along a small child with a candy obsession that he adopted on a whim and named Pandora (I told you that he was eccentric).

The concept of predestination is examined in this volume through Rasputin, who has devised a plan to twart what many feel is their inescapable destiny to repeat the history of their originals. Mock death rituals have been established in order to present a faithful reenactment of each clone's original cause of death, in hopes of breaking the chains of fate and allowing everyone to live beyond the years of their namesake.

What I found to be most appealing about this volume was the changing impressions of Dolly--the small figurine sheep that many of the clones carry around. Dolly has come to be seen in a number of different lights:

1. Dolly showers upon its followers its "divine mercy"
2. Dolly is a good luck charm meant to ward off physical or mental impairment
3. Dolly is a curse and those who worship it put themselves in serious danger
4. Dolly will help land the clone a spouse. Elizabeth I is particularly invested in not living up to her namesake

All the while the staff of the academy are divided about whether or not such trinkets should be allowed in the school, and what sort of message it might be sending to the students.

Ultimately this volume was a lot lighter in tone than the first for the majority of the text. The last ten pages or so, however, completely reverses this impression and sets the third volume up for what will likely be countless pages of heavy material.

The artwork remains competently drawn, and is sometimes outright beautiful.

Final Thoughts

If you're fine with being lulled into a false sense of security and are comfortable knowing that this series is likely to take a plunge into much darker material, read on. Enjoy the lighter days while they're still available to be enjoyed--after all, Afterschool Charisma excels in creating this foreboding sense of something dark and twisted being just around the corner. If there's anything that I've learned about the series so far, it's that there always is.

All subsequent volumes will be reviewed.

I Won Free Stuff! Mwahahaahaha...

For the first time I feel like an actual blogger. Why do I say this? Because I won free loot! As you all know, free loot is the glue that binds together the Blogosphere. Consistently thoughtful, quality posts are a close second.

Luckily for him Jamie has both, so follow Mithil Wisdom if you are not already.

And to the curious-- I won Empress by Karen Miller. The review will come shortly after I've read it.

Also, later on today I'll be sharing my review of Afterschool Charisma Vol. 2. Stay tuned!

Monday Funny

Horse with Hands Riding a Bike

i would be happy to see more blogs and websites that stimulate our creativity by offering us a fairly specific topic and invite our submissions-- sort of like skull-a-day and how they managed to help me turn a trip to the laundromat into a smelly skull.

by all means, i enjoy videos of people falling into fountains because they're texting while walking, but there is a huge part of my mind that needs stimulation beyond slapstick. sort of how i don't mind watching comedy central, but need to watch the discovery channel here and there as well.

neatorama is a great site for mind-exercising brilliance, and i was there when i stumbled across a site awkwardly named horse with hands riding a bike. at this stage, the blog has only been running for a week or two-- but i'm excited to see it take off. here's the purpose for the sentence-long title:

A horse is difficult to draw.
Hands are difficult to draw.
Bicycles are difficult to draw.

So to draw all three is just cussing mind blowing.

and they invite any and all of us to submit our best attempts at the trifecta of doodling difficulties. which i definitely did.

it may not have gotten me any closer to a new illustration gig, but it certainly was fun.

and now, even though horse with hands riding a bike does not belong to me, i invite you to submit as well. and, if not, at least peruse the varying styles of those who have. it's good times. and it makes your roommates look at you strangely.

p.s. - thanks for the plug, horse with hands riding a bike.

Muni Video Games

neat. you all just missed your bus.

Billing its new advertising initiative as a “Bus Stop Derby,” tech giant Yahoo has installed digital video screens at 20 bus shelters in San Francisco, mostly in the downtown area. As part of the promotion, transit passengers from 20 specified neighborhoods will get the chance to compete against each other in different video games — and the community that wins the two-month contest will host a block party featuring the rock band OK Go.

this way we can wait in line to play video games while we wait for the bus. so, you know, we won't feel like we're waiting on the bus anymore.

To compete, passengers need only to tap the screen and choose one of four games, which range from visual puzzles to sports trivia competitions. Once a rider has selected which neighborhood they want to represent, they can challenge any other waiting passenger to a live competition. Also, for anyone curious about duping the system, Yahoo has set up barriers to prevent any sort of automated competition.

pretty sure that's not your job, man-with-broom-and-trash-bag. get back to work.

Each time a rider wins a contest, their neighborhood receives 100 points. The neighborhood with the most points by Jan. 28 will be crowned the winner and get to party with OK Go on Feb. 5. Once the victorious community has been decided, the exact details of OK Go’s performance will be finalized.

i'll admit it's an innovative idea-- though, not as great as the pee-pee video games sega put out in japan's restrooms-- but i'm not sure i understand the exact purpose. i wouldn't mind seeing ok go perform (assuming it's free), but i would be really upset if they performed in my neighborhood. i'm almost tempted to represent my hood by failing every muni video game possible, just to keep drunken hipsters away from my apartment.

that last sentence made me feel very old directly after i typed it. i'll do what i can to keep those damn kids and their damn rock n' roll music away from my damn lawn! whatever.

The Yahoo promotion is made possible by Muni’s advertising agreement with Clear Channel. As part of the pact, Clear Channel must provide the Municipal Transportation Agency, which operates Muni, with a minimum of $8.6 million in advertising revenue this year. In exchange, Clear Channel works with advertisers to bring promotional campaigns to bus shelters owned by the MTA.

[read more]

look, $8.6 million dollars would be great if the money were actually spent on providing us with buses that were not so notoriously late that companies decide to install video games at the bus stops. or if they put the finances toward running enough buses so there is at least standing space, rather than using the extra bucks to cover up our ridiculous deficit.

but, if it's like every year prior, the money will sort of disappear. a few bus lines will probably even get cut for no reason, and the price of riding will go up another 50 cents for no reason. the muni system is like the postal service: the price goes up as the quality goes down. except there is no email version of taking the bus, so we just deal with it.

shoot, i've only lived here for six years and i've watched the muni go rapidly downhill. i remember when the 1-california was never packed. with all the bus-cuts, the only bus that has not gotten worse is the 38-geary-- and that's because it cannot possibly get worse. when i moved here, the monthly passes were only $45 rather than $70. and there were more buses running than now.

that's a quiet rip-off.

in fact, the only improvement to the muni system thus far has been the hi-tech methods in which we can pay to ride. clipper cards and all that. but the buses haven't changed in any direction but backward.

and now... guitar hero bus stops. cool. it's easier to pay and easier to wait around? now i've just got no complaints, muni.

maybe i'm just mad because i'm sleep-deprived.

oh well. i suppose at least homeless folk can invite their friends over for poor man's xbox now.

10 Literary Works Used by Controversial Artist Marilyn Manson

1. Venus in Furs by Leopold von Sacher-Masoch

Source: Doll-Dagga Buzz-Buzz Ziggety-Zag, a blend of dirty swing beats and hard rock off of the 2003 album The Golden Age of Grotesque.

The album, greatly influenced by the "degenerate" art of 1930's Weimar Berlin, references the book in the following verse:

Say, all you pin-down girls
and bonafide ballers, so manically depressed
and manically dressed
We've got our Venus not in furs
but in uniforms
If you're not dancing, then you're dead

2. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov

Source: The novel's controversial nature, as well as the iconic heart shaped glasses worn by Sue Lyon on the poster for its cinema adaptation were used by Manson and his thentime girlfriend Evan Rachel Wood as a tongue-in-cheek statement of their relationship (ERW is approximately half Manson's age). A single off of the 2007 album Eat Me, Drink Me--Heart Shaped Glasses--ran with this concept further.

Evan Rachel Wood in the
Heart Shaped Glasses music video

Poster for 1962
Edition of Lolita

3. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

Source: Manson has spoken on numerous occasions about his love of Oscar Wilde:

Among the inspirations for the thematics in The Golden Age of Grotesque, you also have to mention Oscar Wilde or the Marquis de Sade, artists that were unfortunately persecuted in their everyday life simply because of their imagination or thought. Their lifestyle, as well as the fact of putting so much of themselves in their art, have always fascinated me.

- MM, D-Side Magazine, 2003

Both Manson and Wilde also reputedly share a love for the green fairy--otherwise known as absinthe. Additionally, part of the visual persona he adopted for the "Arch Dandy" in The Golden Age of Grotesque was largely a visual amalgam of the dandyism made famous by such figures as Oscar Wilde and Aubrey Beardsley.

4. Justine, Philosophy in the Bedroom and Other Writings by Marquis de Sade

Source: MM is an outspoken fan of Quills (a bio-pic of the Marquis de Sade). He has also described one of his albums as "the Marquis de Sade with a drum machine". Pressed about his connection to the author in an interview he stated:

I relate to how he was a person who had a very vivid imagination that scared a lot of people. (...) He was using his mind and his art to exorcise his demons and he was punished for that. I feel that a lot of times I get myself into similar circumstances

5. Les Fleurs du Mal by Charles Baudelaire

Source: Manson has spoken of his admiration for Baudelaire in numerous interviews. He also painted a watercolour entitled Les Fleurs du Mal, as well as displaying it as a backdrop during his live performances. He went one step further and named his art exhibition in Zürich, Switzerland from 2007-2008 by this title as well.

Les Fleurs du Mal
a watercolour by Marilyn Manson

6. The Lottery by Shirley Jackson

Source: The Lottery was quoted as being an influence of Manson's for his album Antichrist Superstar, particularly for the music video Man That You Fear, which depicts a scene heavily reminiscent of the book.

7. Perfume: The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Suskind

Source: Referenced off hand on a number of occasions, particularly during his early years. He also made mention of this book a few years ago when he was debating entering the fragrance market.

8. The Holy Bible (KJV) by Dozens of Jews and Christians over a Period of Several Hundred Years

Source: Marilyn's triptych of Antichrist Superstar, Mechanical Animals and Holy Wood  contains, somewhat ironically, the most concentrated amount of biblical references of any popular artist of the 90's. To date, The Holy Bible is the single most referenced piece of literature that Marilyn Manson is inspired by (on a side note, when I met him I gave him The Gospel of Judas. It seemed appropriate.)

For God So Loved the World He Gave
His Only Begotten Son.
Mixed medium by Marilyn Manson
 The bible pages are taken from II King,
Chronicles I and II, and Revelation

From dressing as the pope in live concerts, to burning bibles, Christ and Antichrist allusions in countless videos, touring with a giant flaming cross made out of televisions, more than half a dozen watercolour paintings with religious iconography, his cover of the song Personal Jesus, and the endless variety of lyrical references--the most recent being a lyrical allusion to John 1:5 in the song I Have to Look Up Just to See Hell-- it is evident that Manson is no stranger to religion (or controversy).

Manson as the Pope

And in the midst of the seven candlesticks one like unto the Son of man, clothed with a garment down to the foot, and a girt about the paps with a golden girdle. His head and hairs were white like wool, as white as snow; and his eyes were as a flame of fire - Revelation 1:13-14

Trismegistus, a three headed christ painted by Manson
onto a 19th century embalming table; the title also
references Hermes-Trismegistus, the combination of the Greek
deity Hermes and the Egyptian deity Thoth

9. The Golden Game: Alchemical Engravings of the Seventeenth Century by Stanislas Klossowski de Rola

Source: Many of the alchemical engravings, figures and diagrams contained within have made it into the album artwork of Manson's albums, especially Holy Wood, which thematically employed no less than a dozen of these obscure 17th century illustrations.

10. The Fall by Albert Camus

Source:  The track listing for Marilyn Manson's album Holy Wood was subdivded into several sections, one of which was The Fall, a two part reference, both to the biblical understanding of the fall of man, and additionally as a literary reference to Camus.

After the fallout of Columbine, when Manson was (erroneously) declared by every major news network to be Dylan and Eric's favourite musician, he found himself the scapegoat for the perennial bullshit lobbied by politicians and ignorant Americans that always manages to resurface, blaming any act of youth-violence upon musicians. Manson used much of this fodder to write Holy Wood, but he also responded to the accusation directly in an essay for Rolling Stone titled Columbine - Whose Fault Is It? (Is Adult Entertainment Killing Our Children or is Killing Our Children Entertaining Adults?) Give it a read if you haven't, because it is simply astounding.

Manson closes the essay with "Don't expect the end of the world to come one day out of the blue — it's been happening every day for a long time", which is a nod to Camus' work-- "Don't wait for the Last Judgment. It takes place everyday."

For more on Manson's references (be it literary, cinematic, or theological) please visit The Nachtkabarett (an encyclopedia of perversions created by my brother, which I have also been known to write for)

I'm a Man Writing a Novel Full of Women, My Main Antagonist is Scrapped and I Just Gave My Protagonist a Sex Change

Welcome to the wonderful world of editing!

After a wearisome six hours of hacking and slashing away at my manuscript that would put my Diablo II days to shame, I comitted to an undesired decision--namely, I cut the main antagonist out of the novel. He's gone. You won't ever see him. You never even learned his name.

I had nothing against him. Really. He was a lovely enough bloke, I suppose, but he was lacking in the personality department and frankly he was an embarrassment of a villain. How do I know this? Well, when your antagonist's minions seem more menacing than their own boss I think it's time to consider scrapping the head honcho and rethinking the power structure of your baddies.

It hasn't been a total loss, however. I'd like to formally congratulate Madame White, that unseemly demonic figure who, if she had a flavour, I could only describe as honeyed gravel. MW, you've earned yourself a promotion to main antagonist of the novel; enjoy it, because you've certainly earned it. My condolences to the main protagonist and to the reader--this will inevitably move the novel to a heavier and darker direction than I had initially intended.

Another realization that I came upon is that with the removal of my male antagonist, my novel is now almost completely dominated by women--something that I had not intended, nor thought possible when I began the manuscript towards the end of 2009 or when I hit the final keys to produce "The End" a year later. Of course, "The End" is merely for the amusement of us writers who are well aware that finishing a novel is only the beginning of our labour.

...Where was I? Oh yes, the saturation of women in my novel. Unexpected, but a welcome addition. Although I have noticed while stalking many of my fellow bloggers that there exists a general sense of uneasiness when it comes to writing outside of their gender identity. Maybe it's my lifelong affinity for David Bowie and Marilyn Manson, or maybe it's my pronounced lack of traditionally "masculine" qualities, but I don't find this to be a daunting task. Challenging, that is for certain, but not something to be feared. Regardless, fundamentally we're all the same. Men and women alike inherently possess some enviable qualities and do their best to hide or otherwise mask their qualities which are not so pleasant. Men and women both want to make a difference, to be remembered, to make an impact. Be it man or woman, we all shed tears of sadness and happiness, feel the sting of regret, and endure years of pain and mixed blessings. Ultimately we're all marching toward the grave. When it comes right down to it, are we really that different?

Tangential soapbox aside, I'd also like to announce that my main character is no longer a man. I think he will make a splendiferous she. I was asked by a close friend if changing the gender of my main character would complicate the love interest, what with having to turn her into a man to make this a heterosexually approved novel. Ultimately however, I have decided that any book that dabbles in vampirism, demonic figures, our baser instincts and unconventional relationships couldn't possibly be hurt with some lesbianism thrown into the mix.

So, I've completely decimated the natural order of my manuscript in six short hours. Who wants a drink?

Dear Natalie Forsyth

you're a dumb fucking human and i hope you never make it to college.

in fact, i don't have to hope: you just won't. because you can't even type your own god damn phone number correctly when you sign up with degree-finding websites.

while you were likely sleeping and dreaming about jersey shore or whatever it is that dumb people dream about, i was trying to convince an army of operators that i am not you. i am not natalie forsyth, i am just an illustrator who really thought it might be neat to sleep.

i'm sure your hunt for a cheap degree out-weighs my hunt for a steady job, but here is why i'm mad:

last night, i was awake til 6:30am trying to finish up new illustration projects in hopes to squeeze enough cash out of nowhere to pay rent. i had it pretty figured out and knew i could get a solid five hours of sleep without sleeping through the rest of the day as long as i was in bed before 7am.

and i was. all tucked in and shit.

now, it is a scientific fact that the average human requires seven minutes to fall asleep. it is also a scientific fact the average human requires the absence of the theme song to pee wee's big adventure to fall asleep.

unfortunately, exactly seven minutes after i laid down my phone started ringing. also unfortunately, my ringtone is the theme song to pee wee's big adventure.

but when you're strapped for cash you have no choice but to answer every call you get at any time of day in hopes it may be a new job. so i answered the call in my best "i'm not half-asleep" voice only to find that the operator was looking for you, natalie.

i told her that i was not you and that she had the wrong number.

then, at 8:02am, a different number rang my phone and woke me up. this operator was also hoping i might be you. unfortunately for them, i still was not.

at 9:07am, a third number called for you and i nearly told them to fuck off but resisted the urge because i know what it's like to be on the other end of one of those calls. it was not the operators' faults that you are blindingly retarded and can't manage to type the numbers of you cell phone in the proper order.

no wonder you need to sign up for help to find a degree.

9:12am, you were called through my phone again.

then, when a new operator called at 9:31am, i pretended that they might have had the right number. i asked for their company name, your last name, and your current city before informing them quite firmly that the number they were calling did not belong to you and that i have no idea who you are, and that i'm starting to hate you.

10:09am, pee wee's big adventure. i quietly lost my shit. i am not natalie forsyth. i am a man who wanted very badly to go to sleep for five hours but wound up with a series of inefficient cat-naps instead.

"please, for the love of god stop calling me," i shouted at the operator.

"sir," she said impatiently, "this is the first time i've called you."

"you, shut up!" i spat through my delirious teeth, "what the fuck is so important that i am being called every ten minutes since 6:30am? what is it?"

"we're looking for natalie," she said calmly.

"I KNOW YOU'RE LOOKING FOR HER AND I'VE TOLD THE LAST FIVE OPERATORS I AM NOT NATALIE! FOR FUCK'S SAKE, STOP CALLING ME, I NEED TO SLEEP BEFORE 11AM!"

"sir," the lady continued, "i'm sorry that you feel this way, and i will certainly take note of it. but you don't need to yell at me. i just work here."

she was right even though she was wrong. i did need to yell at her because i was at my wit's end and you weren't around to yell at. but i had promised myself i wouldn't take it out on the operators who were merely calling the number you provided. furthermore, each call came from a separate college-searching company that you had whored my cell to. i couldn't expect all five companies to know you are too stupid to coordinate your fingers long enough to string together the proper ten digits to your phone. it wasn't their fault-- they just work there.

or maybe you intentionally typed the wrong number, wanting some kind of free promo for some kind of stupid toy-- maybe you thought as long as you typed a number that wasn't yours, no one would ever be called because as long as you're not called the calls must magically cease to exist in the world. i mean, that's logical. it's not like some regular fella might have that number and be harassed by the trillions of companies you signed up with.

because of you, i spent the next hour chasing down the proper managers from every company in order to have my phone number deleted from their list. and if you have ever tried to find someone with actual power or responsibility in a call center, you likely know how hard that was.

but i dare say you likely know nothing. you likely woke up at noon, ate a bagel, and blamed your roommate for finishing the cream cheese without buying any more.

meanwhile, i climbed furiously through the toll-free 888 numbers, and 866 numbers, the 415's and the 510's, too. the holds and the automated spanish-speaking operators. and when i finally got through it all, my alarm went off. it was time for me to wake up and start my day.

thank you, natalie. thank you very much.

really stop to think over what i've said. i was woken up at 6:37am-- seven minutes after i went to bed-- then 8:02, 9:09, 9:12, 9:31, and 10:09am because you not only typed my phone number instead of yours, but also because you put that number on the worst websites. to be woken up like that, to be teased with the idea of sleep all the way till the moment your alarm goes off... it's like i've been tortured. this is worse than having not slept at all. i feel like i've been psychologically tortured.

i hope you really were eating a bagel while i was suffering, and i hope you never got your cream cheese. i hope your bagel was burnt in the toaster, and i hope your scraped the roof of your mouth when you tried to eat it. i hope that happens every single time you eat a bagel from here on out.

i tried to find you on facebook so i could friend you and then habitually like every single thing on your wall and invite you to join every group i can find. but you're not on facebook. probably because you don't have any friends.

but one day you will google yourself and you will find this message. and on that day i expect an apology via phone. after all, it's not like you don't know my phone number.

FKDGHSH:Kly,
president wishnack

p.s. - i know that's not a picture of you. it's a young ryan seacrest. but it's pretty much how i imagine you to look.

p.p.s. - imma getchoo. oh, imma getchoo.