athelind: (hoard potato)

One:

I've finally figured out my utter dis1 for DC's recent business model of resurrecting Silver Age characters who got killed off in the '80s and '90s because they couldn't sustain their own titles.

As I mentioned the other day, I don't like zombies.2

Certainly, remembering, as one example, the long, dragged, out "Trial of the Flash" that closed out Barry Allen's run months before he met his end in Crisis on Infinite Earths is not that far removed from having the fragrance of three-month-old sea lion carcasses waft unbidden through one's amygdala.3

At least when Marvel turns its colorfully-costumed characters into shambling undead mockeries, they're occasionally honest about it.


Two:

DC is releasing a series of prequels to Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons' classic graphic novel, Watchmen.

I reserve judgment on whether or not this is a bad move; really, I'm finding myself far too tickled by the outrage of the fandom (and Alan Moore) to really have many objections myself (and besides, one of them will have Darwyn Cooke art).

However, something occurred to me the other day:

Watchmen is older than most of the "old comics" it was based on were when it was published.



1disinterest/disappointment/distaste/disdain/disregard/dyspepsia ...
2I wanna shoo-oo-oo-oot the whole trend down!
3I have a dread suspicion that that storyline, which seemed to take forever at the time, might seem a masterpiece of snappy pacing compared to the "decompressed" storytelling of today's "decompressed".

athelind: (grognard)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

Pong.


athelind: (Parallel Worlds)

Requiem In Pace: Dwayne McDuffie, Comics Creator, Animation Editor, Scribe Extraordinaire.



February 20, 1962 – February 22, 2011. He died two days after his 49th birthday, and less than a week before my 47th.

Creator of Static, Icon, Hardware, and the Blood Syndicate, driving force behind Milestone Comics, scribe of too many comic books to mention, story editor on Justice League Unlimited ...


Truly, you were an Icon in your own right.




athelind: (loop)
Trying to grok microblogging and social networking just makes me feel old.

I feel the need to make the effort, though—in no small part because it does make me feel old. I look on in baffled incomprehension at a vast swath of online life, wholly Out Of the Loop, and I realize that I'm nearly as disconnected from the Bleeding Edge of the One-And-Twenty as someone with no Internet access at all.

The Unkind Curmudgeon, the part of me that tries to reduce the world into a series of Pithy Epigrams, keeps coming back to "these are ways for people to TALK when they don't have anything to SAY."

Of course, Pithy Epigrams are exactly what microblogging services like Twitter are all about; the Unkind Curmudgeon would thrive there.

I'm not sure I want the Unkind Curmudgeon to thrive.

Nevertheless, I can see the utility and appeal of the Twitters and Qaikus and Status.nets of the online world. Sometimes, you just want to say something quickly and efficiently, without wrapping a well-thought-out blog entry (or stream of consciousness blather) around it. The first sentence of this entry would have been an ideal Tweet, but here, on LJ, I feel I have to elaborate.1

I also appreciate the idea of an ongoing, persistent conversation that's faster than a newsgroup but slower than IRCs or MUCKs. IM conversations have that quality on a one-to-one level: you can say something to someone, and they can respond at their leisure. 2

It's the Facebooks and MySpaces that I don't get. I'm on LinkedIn, the most professionally-oriented of the social network services, and I don't get it. There's no content on LinkedIn. Nothing happens. It's static. Even if you recognize former co-workers floating around on the service, it's just "hey, I know you [LINK]". It's another place to post my resume to get ignored.3

As I understand it, Facebook and the more "social" social nets have Other Stuff: microblog-style "Status Updates"; tedious mind-numbing timesinks "games" like Farmville; the exchange of pointless tchotchkes virtual tokens like the llamas of DeviantArt and the weird little icons that LiveJournal has tacked on in imitation.

I still don't quite grasp what you do on these networks, though. I don't grok how you interact with them. LiveJournal has the eminently-useful (if unfortunately-named) "Friends" list, which is an entirely useful means of monitoring those individuals who provide interesting content; I peruse mine regularly, and it irks me that there's not an equally-elegant way of following the Blogspot blogs I read.

I'm clueless about the SpaceBooks and MyFaces, though. honestly, I don't even know what such sites look like, since most of them are, in my experience, inaccessible to those who don't already have an account.

Given the well-publicized privacy issues and the impossibility of deleting accounts, I am extremely leery of registering just to see if I want to register.

Some contracts, you just don't want to sign.4

Why, you might ask, am I concerned about this at all?

It's not just because "all my friends are doing it."

Any number of recent articles in the blogosphere suggest that my mortal alter-ego's nigh-complete absence from the virtual sphere has had a negative impact on my career aspirations.[citation needed] A Google search on my mundane name yields my 2003 capstone thesis, a few sparse credits in a handful of published RPGs, and a lengthy discourse in an etymology blog about the plural of "octopus".

It's bad enough that my professional experience is so sparse, but, as far as any potential employer can determine, I have no personal interests whatsoever.

Nevertheless, I'm hesitant to establish overt connections between my Mundane Alter-Ego, the Earnest Environmental Scientist and Cartographer, and Your Obedient Serpent, who may be an Eloquent Commentator of Comics and Popular Culture, but also has some ... eccentric ... search results attached to his most-used nom de guerre.


1 Endlessly.

2 I do miss ICQ, which would let you drop someone a note even if they weren't online at the time; I described that more than once as "leaving a Post-It on their monitor".

3 But I'm not bitter!

4 I say to you againe, doe not call up Any that you can not put downe; by the Which I meane, Any that can in Turne call up somewhat against you, whereby your Powerfullest Devices may not be of use. Ask of the Lesser, lest the Greater shall not wish to Answer, and shall commande more than you. —H.P. Lovecraft, "The Case of Charles Dexter Ward".

athelind: (Howitzer)
When did it stop being bad manners to talk about religion and personal belief?

Ninety-nine percent of our problems with polarization and conflict stem from the shift in culture that's made this an acceptable topic of public discourse.

I miss the concept of "boundaries".


athelind: (Default)
A statement like that might seem to need qualifiers, but really, it doesn't.

I don't know what the hell I'm doing.

About very nearly anything.


athelind: (Default)
A statement like that might seem to need qualifiers, but really, it doesn't.

I don't know what the hell I'm doing.

About very nearly anything.


athelind: (Eye of the Dragon)
"Man in the Wilderness"
Styx
lyrics by Tommy Shaw




Lyrics... )


...and kids today think they invented emo...

athelind: (Eye of the Dragon)
"Man in the Wilderness"
Styx
lyrics by Tommy Shaw




Lyrics... )


...and kids today think they invented emo...

athelind: (number six)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

Can't really say normally, but this is an Eeyore morning. This is an especially Eeyore morning. Could be any number of things, or all of them at once. Not that it matters. Went to bed last night feeling Especially Eeyore, and woke up the same way this morning. It's only to be expected, I suppose.

"After all, one can't complain. I have my friends. Somebody spoke to me only yesterday. And was it last week or the week before that Rabbit bumped into me and said 'Bother!'. The Social Round. Always something going on."

It's only on the Especially Eeyore Mornings that I feel like I'm usually Owl: someone who sounds like he knows a great deal about a great many things, but doesn't actually contribute anything useful.


athelind: (Default)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

Can't really say normally, but this is an Eeyore morning. This is an especially Eeyore morning. Could be any number of things, or all of them at once. Not that it matters. Went to bed last night feeling Especially Eeyore, and woke up the same way this morning. It's only to be expected, I suppose.

"After all, one can't complain. I have my friends. Somebody spoke to me only yesterday. And was it last week or the week before that Rabbit bumped into me and said 'Bother!'. The Social Round. Always something going on."

It's only on the Especially Eeyore Mornings that I feel like I'm usually Owl: someone who sounds like he knows a great deal about a great many things, but doesn't actually contribute anything useful.


athelind: (coyote laughs)
A week or so ago, during the holiday retail frenzy, [livejournal.com profile] quelonzia got a pack of hot dogs and buns. Originally, she planned to build an official dinner around them, but decided that they were better-suited for quick, fast meals. This was a nice idea, since I was working crazy hours.

Shortly thereafter, I came home exhausted, after everyone else had eaten dinner, and needed something. The Fire of My Heart said, "You can have a hot dog!"

The Grandspawn replied, "No, he can't. They're all gone."

Quel had had two. I'd had none.

(This is a recurring phenomenon, incidentally. Whenever we get something simple and easy to prepare, to use as meals when people are pressed for time or don't feel like cooking, the Grandspawn considers it fair game as snacks, and will rip through the whole stash before anyone else has a chance to get any.)

So, today, I went to Smart & Final (the bulk food store), one of the few local purveyors of Quelonzia's Incurable Addiction, and saw that they had my favorite brand of Cheap-But-Substantial Hot Dogs, Bar S. 16 dogs to a package, three pounds of meat, $4.99 -- and each dog is both larger and more flavorful than your ISO Standard Oscar Mayer.

They have three kinds: Polish Sausage, Smoked Sausage... and Hot Smoked Sausage.

I got the Hot Smoked Sausage. They're tasty. (Of course, I'm the only one who thinks so.)

When I got home, I opened the package up to fix myself one. Because the package doesn't seal by itself, I slid the whole thing into a Zip-Loc bag.

Unfortunately, in the process of opening it, I just happened to snip off the part of the label that says "HOT".

"Oopsie."

Hey, I've never claimed to be the grown-up.

Update: Younger Stepdaughter also likes the spicy smoked sausage. She suggested having it for dinner tonight -- and has no intention of warning her stepspawn. She didn't get any of the last batch of hot dogs, either...

Update 2: Karma Happens.

athelind: (Default)
A week or so ago, during the holiday retail frenzy, [livejournal.com profile] quelonzia got a pack of hot dogs and buns. Originally, she planned to build an official dinner around them, but decided that they were better-suited for quick, fast meals. This was a nice idea, since I was working crazy hours.

Shortly thereafter, I came home exhausted, after everyone else had eaten dinner, and needed something. The Fire of My Heart said, "You can have a hot dog!"

The Grandspawn replied, "No, he can't. They're all gone."

Quel had had two. I'd had none.

(This is a recurring phenomenon, incidentally. Whenever we get something simple and easy to prepare, to use as meals when people are pressed for time or don't feel like cooking, the Grandspawn considers it fair game as snacks, and will rip through the whole stash before anyone else has a chance to get any.)

So, today, I went to Smart & Final (the bulk food store), one of the few local purveyors of Quelonzia's Incurable Addiction, and saw that they had my favorite brand of Cheap-But-Substantial Hot Dogs, Bar S. 16 dogs to a package, three pounds of meat, $4.99 -- and each dog is both larger and more flavorful than your ISO Standard Oscar Mayer.

They have three kinds: Polish Sausage, Smoked Sausage... and Hot Smoked Sausage.

I got the Hot Smoked Sausage. They're tasty. (Of course, I'm the only one who thinks so.)

When I got home, I opened the package up to fix myself one. Because the package doesn't seal by itself, I slid the whole thing into a Zip-Loc bag.

Unfortunately, in the process of opening it, I just happened to snip off the part of the label that says "HOT".

"Oopsie."

Hey, I've never claimed to be the grown-up.

Update: Younger Stepdaughter also likes the spicy smoked sausage. She suggested having it for dinner tonight -- and has no intention of warning her stepspawn. She didn't get any of the last batch of hot dogs, either...
athelind: (facepalm)
Avocado Age: The 1970s, a period when Avocado Green and Harvest Gold were considered appropriate and fashionable colors for interior decoration, particularly in kitchen appliances.


(Posted by request of [livejournal.com profile] halfelf; really, anyone old enough to remember the era wouldn't have needed a definition.)
athelind: (Default)
Avocado Age: The 1970s, a period when Avocado Green and Harvest Gold were considered appropriate and fashionable colors for interior decoration, particularly in kitchen appliances.


(Posted by request of [livejournal.com profile] halfelf; really, anyone old enough to remember the era wouldn't have needed a definition.)

November 2016

S M T W T F S
  12345
6 78 9101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
27282930   

Tags

Page generated May. 26th, 2017 11:23 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios