File Under: I do so few of these that I’m entitled…

You are Paul Krugman! You’re a brilliant economist
with a knack for both making sense of the
current economic situation and exposing the
Bush administration’s lies about it. You
somehow came out as the best anti-war writer on
the Op-Ed staff. Other economists hate your
guts for selling out to the liberals. To hell
with ‘em.

Which New York Times Op-Ed Columnist Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

So, you’ll notice I’ve not written about the funnybooks for a few days now. I can’t focus on any one thing I’m reading right now – I’ve been reading an issue’s worth of that new Kirby Jimmy Olsen trade each night before popping off to sleep and the things I’ve read have either been already commented upon by me (Bighead and Hutch Owen) or have set the internet message boards alight (Identity Crisis) so that any commentary by me is just shy of being completely superfluous.

I should note that at this point, I’m not sure if I care who the IC killer is – I’m impressed by Metzler’s skill as a writer. Much like Mamet, it’s watching the story unfold in a professional manner that’s giving me the greatest pleasure. Last issue had two very writerly scenes. The first being the Atom and his ex-wife – that felt organic and showed that Metzler understands character over characterization, which means he’s at least passingly familiar with McKee’s Story, which Aaron beat me into purchasing and I’ve not thanked him enough since. Secondly, the tension built in the issue’s finale with Jack Drake, Oracle, and Robin is razor-sharp. You can tell Metzler understands what the difference is between involving your reader’s emotions and emotionally manipulating them. No wasted space in any of this story so far, either – there’s never any padding to make it feel “bigger” and each issue, so far, has been packed with dialogue if not, apparently, clues.

OK, that’s enough comic fan pretension for the moment. Now, onto more important things.

Vote. On. November. Second. Do not let the right wing lie to you about your registration. Do not let the president use computers to make a rally look larger than it is while Kerry (admittedly with a little help from The Boss) got somewhere in the neighborhood of 100,000 people to show up at his rally in Madison without making them sign loyalty oaths. If you know someone who is afraid to vote because of things like this, take them to the poll yourself. Do you want four more years of financial, diplomatic, and social disaster or do you want a return to real compassion and progressive values that mean your life is yours to live?

So, those 380 tons of explosives that the White House has flipped and flopped on? Well, see, they really do exist.

Nice one. The Terrorists don’t need to win – we’re losing this on our own, thanks.

Memetic Attack: Z-A Breakdown

Z- Zodiac sign: Leo

Y- Yummy food: General Gau’s Chicken

X- X-rays you’ve had: Teeth. Lungs because of Asthma.

W- Wearing right now: Dark green sweater, t-shirt featuring Godzilla under it, black boxer briefs, khakis, wool socks, Merrills.

V- Voting for: Kerry/Edwards. For real.

U- Unknown fact about me: I’ve never broken a bone despite years of clumsy falls and idiotic moves.

T- Time you wake up: 8-ish if left to my own devices.

S – Song you last heard: “Above And Beyond” by PHD and the Funky Technicians, from Logical Progression Volume 1.

R- Reason to smile: Despite my assholery, I do have the best friends on the planet.

Q- Quote you like: “It’s a great big disco world.” – Kurt, Information Society.

P- Phobia[s]: Clowns. Puppets, especially marionettes. Heights when I have no clear support system.

O- One time by accident: I may or may not have caused a critical computer system at a workplace to crash.

N- Number of siblings: 1. My older brother, Jack.

M- Mom’s name: Elizabeth Ann

L- Love to watch this movie over and over again: Free Enterprise, Star Trek II, and Wet Hot American Summer.

K- Kindergarten reminds you of: “Needs help with scissors.”

J- Job title: Content Manager.

I- Instruments: CD Player. Sequencer.

H- Hometown: Paris, TN. I call Newnan, GA “Home” though.

G- Gummy Bears or Gummy Worms: Gummy bears.

F- Favorite song of all time: Um. “Being boring.” by the Pet Shop Boys or “When I Kiss You (I Hear Charlie Parker Playing)” by Sparks. Then there’s “Eleanor Rigby” by the Beatles.

E- Easiest person to talk to: Kristin, Kari, Christina, Doug, Aaron, Josh, and many others. I have, as I said, the best friends on the planet. If you’re not on this list, it’s OK. I love you and value you anyway.

D- Dad’s name: Billy Jack. (Originally Billie Jack on his birth certificate!)

C- Career in future: Writer.

B- Band listening to right now: Seba and Lotek.

A- Age: 30

Halley’s Comet.

Red Sox World Championships.

You can make the connection, right?

Now to tell all the herds thundering past Chez Beaucoup to knock it off so I can sleep in a bit.

(20:36:06) karen’sAIMid: (and don’t tell anyone but i was listening to christmas songs before i was listening to alice cooper)

(20:36:27) beaucoupkevin: I may just put that in my blog!

(20:36:48) karen’sAIMid: you threaten me with your blog an awful lot

(20:36:51) karen’sAIMid: i dare you.

(20:36:57) karen’sAIMid: i double dare you.

(20:37:05) karen’sAIMid: i double DOG dare you.

Ladies and Gentleman:

My friend Karen was listening to Christmas music in October. For God’s sake, don’t be like her. There’s so much in the way of web radio out there that means you needn’t succumb to the succubus that is that “Sleigh Ride” song prior to December. Please, if you’re listening to Christmas music now, get help. If you know someone that is doing this, get them help.

Appendum:

Moments later, I get this…

(20:43:00) karen’sAIMid: i really am afraid to tell you what i’m listening to.

(20:43:14) beaucoupkevin: What is it?

(20:43:35) karen’sAIMid: well, now it’s colin hay but it was…

(20:43:40) karen’sAIMid: counting crows.

For the price of less than a cup of coffee a day, you can send Karen a CD of music that isn’t utterly worthless. Think about this. Give what you can now, before it gets worse. Colin Hay is a step in the right direction. Let’s show her the rest of the way, together.

From the lovely and intelligent (OK, I can only confirm the latter, but I presume the former is true if she’s 1/100th as attractive as she is smart) Heidi MacDonald, I give you the single image that may well redeem Alex Ross to my tired-of-seeing-the-ultrarealistic-superheroes-already eyes:

That’s a Village Voice cover right there.

For all those who’re probably going to post in my comments: No, I don’t hate America. I love America. I just hate what Bush is doing to this place. Poor analogy time – it’s like letting the thieves upgrade bank security procedures. “Well, you’re going to need an ultra-laser mesh over that window (Dick! Hey, Dick! Dick, get in there and grab me a couple thou real fast!) and you’re going to wanna look at new motion sensor setup in the lobby (And get me a lollypop, man!) while thinking about a pressure unit on the floor. This is a strategery that will save you money from them robbers that you heard about what robbed that bank across the state. (Dick, I wanna yeller one!)”

Report from tonight’s Mouse On Mars show at The Middle East in Cambridge:

Junior Boys were decent. Reminded me of a much-less-emo Postal Service, so they were pretty straight synthpop with some dark tones. To be fair, I did only catch the last three songs of their set. They may have been performing as a boy-band before that point.

Ratatat were not, sadly, a RATT cover band. This disappointed me more than anything else. Most of their songs were pretty samey-samey, – heavy beat, fuzz guitars, sequenced tracks – except for the last, beautifully stretched out, ambient piece that could have gone on for another ten minutes with no complaints.

Mouse On Mars rocked the hizzy. Playing exclusively from their last three proper albums, they managed to knock out two of my favorite tracks back to back, get the guitarist from Ratatat on stage, “rock out,” and then do some reggae.

I am not making that up. Germans. Doing. Reggae. Go figure.

Non-musical highlight of the evening for me was when the Junior Boys guy said “OK, up next is Ratatat, and then Mouse On Mars WHOO!” Three or four people clapped and cheered at that.

“Oh, come on! I think they’re pretty great! Let’s try that again! We’ve got Ratatat and then Mouse On Mars!” Maybe ten of the hipsters in the crowd deign to show some enthusiasm. That’s when I had to say something.

“They’re fucking metal!” I informed the singer while throwing the horns like Our Lord And Savior.

Everyone cheers and the dude goes “Rock ON!” before throwing said horns back to me. I’m a rocker, I rock out.

Photos up this afternoon, if I get a chance.

Larry Young’s AiT/PlanetLAR has done it again. Rob Osbourne’s new book, 1000 Steps To World Domination is just shy of genius. Taken from previously-released minicomics, this handsome square-bound collection details Rob’s efforts to stop being just a guy who draws funnies at night while working as a sales assistant to being complete master of the world through comics. Osbourne’s self-effacing humor is never too cloying or “aw, shucks, look at me,” and the scenes with his wife made me laugh out loud. His art, like many creators who’ve gotten pushed through to AIT, isn’t right for DC or Marvel, but is perfect for this sort of storytelling. In a near-German show of efficiency, his pages usually stuck to a four-panel layout, which reads quickly and there’s a neat subliminal kick when he shifts to a different layout for the occasional appearance from God or the Monkey.

Yes, there’s a monkey in it. I know what you’re thinking. Shut up. That’s not the only reason I like this. I listed a few others. C’mon, man. Cut me some slack.

In conclusion (how bad is a “review” if they break out this hoary old chestnut?), this is a testament to one man’s attempt at following his dreams. As I recently left a decent-paying software sales gig to make pennies writing (and I’m much happier, if poorer,) I can empathize pretty heavily with Osbourne. For $13, you could do a lot worse than this.

When I was a kid, I’d occasionally play baseball with my fellow youths. I was poor at it, of course. Unless it involves repeatedly hitting buttons, I’m not great with feats of physical skill to this day. Anyway, the variation we played had five methods by which I player hitting or on base could be termed out.

• Striking out.
• A hit being caught.
• Being thrown out.
• Being tagged out.
• Being hit by the ball after the defensive player threw it at you. If they hit you in the head, that was end of inning, no matter what.

I’m amazed I lived past 10.

Thanks to the magic of p2p, I have managed to find clean (as in not DJ mixed) copies of some of my favorite old dance records. I would eagerly buy these on CD if they weren’t long out of print and fetching stupid money when they showed up on eBay, but that’s me being fiscally responsible or something(!!) instead of the trainspotter I was for years. As I owned most of them on vinyl, I feel not completely awful about getting copies off the hard drives of people spread over our planet. Besides, if the record companies wanted my money on these tracks, they’d put them back in print. Hint. Hint.

First up, the jump up / jungle batch:

When you hear that someone has snatched a simulacrum of “Moonlight Sonata,” thrown a bunch of beats under it that clatter and roar at a fair clip and included a bassline that eats babies, you suspect it’s going to be crap. DJ SS’s “The Sound Of The Future” (Lighter VIP Mix) does that and is not crap at all. The melodic line he sets up with the bass is incredible and when it pauses, you catch your breath to dive further into the dense, claustrophobic layers. Class.

DJ Hype’s “Fugees Or Not” never got a proper release – I imagine the record label would have extorted a ransom out of him for the deft use of “Ready Or Not” by the now-defunct titular act. Rolling a fair clip and building before everything goes quiet and Lauren Hill’s gorgeous voice runs through the chorus once before his trademark jump-up beats pound under her and the bass pops you in the mouth, this is a record you’d hear two or three times in a night and never get sick of back in “the day.”

“The S the U the P the E the R the S the H the A the R the P the S the H the O the O the T the E the R.” Yes, “Super Sharp Shooter” by The Ganja Kru really raises the level for lyricism in dance music with the Sesame Street style intro and that cheap, nasty synth melody doesn’t really endear itself to you, but…then it happens. The tightly controlled beats suck you in and you’re being kicked in the ass by the bassline while samples give your forebrain something to focus on. This one holds up brilliantly.

Now, The Cheese Handbag Fun Batch:

Ah, Stretch & Vern. “I’m Alive” is so, so, so, so wrong but with its high-ended clipped piano line and the goofball samples, you can’t help yourelf. It’s the Jim Carrey movie you shouldn’t laugh at. It’s the sex with a Malaysian hooker you shouldn’t have sex with. It’s a bad idea. It’s pure 1995, complete with builds out of the secret dance manual that was passed around to producers then. It’s either genius or shit, depending on how off your tits you are. Pet Shop Boys fans may well recognize this as the inspiration for the “New Version” of “Discoteca.”

“Fox Force Five” by Chris and James is an “Oh my god, I like this and I feel like I should report to the RNC headquarters for further programming” record. It’s not very clever at all – taking cues from about a million other progressive records, it starts with strings, builds with the usual pace, the beats push things right along in a purely functional manner, but then…you hear the voice of Samuel L Jackson. It’s a cheap tactic, sampling Pulp Fiction, but it works. Not very good for listening with your headphones while reading, but I bet it sounds great on a summer day.

Anyone else using P2P to not pirate current hot stuff, but grab out of print records like me?

The Nation presents a list of 100 stone-cold, completely non-disputable facts about the Bush administration. There’s also one opinion.

The most chilling one, even for his ardent supporters, has to be:

12. After receiving a memo from the CIA in August 2001 titled “Bin Laden Determined to Attack America,” President Bush continued his monthlong vacation.

Source: CNN.com

Mark posts an ad for one of my recently-mentioned neglected DC comics titles. That’s desktop wallpaper material there.

Today is the day of good media.

First of all, Hunter S Thompson reports on the election:

Richard Nixon looks like a flaming liberal today, compared to a golem like George Bush. Indeed. Where is Richard Nixon now that we finally need him?

You bet. Richard Nixon would be my Man. He was a crook and a creep and a gin-sot, but on some nights, when he would get hammered and wander around in the streets, he was fun to hang out with. He would wear a silk sweat suit and pull a stocking down over his face so nobody could recognize him. Then we would get in a cab and cruise down to the Watergate Hotel, just for laughs.

Jeffrey Brown’s superhero epic, Bighead came out. Glancing at the inside, it’s typical Brownian genius – it looks like a kid drew it, it’s amateurish as all hell, but he’s in complete control the whole time.

Also from Top Shelf, Tom Hart’s scathing Hutch Owen is collected, but I am pretty sure I ordered that from Diamond’s STAR system. There’s another collection due out in November – Hutch Owen: Unmarketable. You know how Mallard Fillmore (and oftentimes Tom Tomorrow) fails to be anything but strident and unfunny? This is the complete opposite. Hate how Bush and Pals let corporations run rampant? Hutch is your man.

Of supreme interest is the second volume of Jimmy Olsen Adventures by Jack Kirby. My favorite run on a comic ever is now completely collected. If you don’t have Volume One, pick them both up. You’ll see so many insane ideas that were at least 20 years ahead of their time and Jack was, as always, unbeatable.

I’ve read the lastest issue of Identity Crisis. Wow. If someone could tell me what was up with Firestorm and his identity for this issue, I’d appreciate it. (See, I’m being vague, but if that is Ronnie, somebody needs to give me an explanation.)

An Open Letter To Red Sox Fans Across New England

Hey, Guys!

Yeah, what a game last night, huh? The Yankees really weren’t the threat they wanted to be and Damon made up for some shockingly inept performance earlier in the series. Good going, everyone.

Now here’s a few things we need to go over before this goes any further:

• The Yankees have officially “sucked it” so you can take that “Yankees Suck” shirt off your two-year-old.
• “We” didn’t do much. The Boston Red Sox, a professional baseball team, won the American League Championship Series. You just watched the game.
• While I do appreciate the sentiment, I find it remarkable that you people in Boston can’t find the brakes or turn signal while driving in broad daylight, but that horn is the first thing you reach for in your car when you decide to go for a drive at two in the morning to “celebrate.”
• Celebrating your preferred team’s win is perfectly acceptable. Getting arrested for it is just plain stupid.
• No, really, that Red Sox cap does not make you a member of the team, so stop saying “we!”

Now that I’ve gotten those out of the way, let’s hope they can break that “curse” and show the Cards / Astros what for in the Series.

BeaucoupKevin

[BEGIN WHINING]

Note To Self:

Writing ¼ of a page ≠ writing a comic script today.

Ass. You had a paid day off and took no advantage of it.

[END OF WHINING]