Just across from the sign that says "Pros Only"

Also contributed to the Great Cosby Experiment of '09.

Haha I love this book.


It's so existential it's not even funny.

Also the Marabar Caves are especially rad—they're perfectly circular and smooth and make any noise, even really small ones, reverberate into this monotone "booouuuum," and it's so creepy it makes one character have a spiritual crisis and another realise she doesn't really love her fiancée and think she's been raped

I maked some comics










( And some shoddier ones )

So I'm pretty stoked for Hourly Comics Day on February 1.



This is not an hourly comic, it is just depressing

While trying to feel interested in college applications today, I happened across the one perfect and foolproof cure for any lack of ambition.

And that is listening to "Be Prepared" from the Lion King.

I'm doing that meme with the songs and the shuffle and the questions and the guy that pops out of the thing and blahhhbahbha


( memery here )

I have a lot of stuff on my iTunes I never listen to, but just sort of inherited from my brother's library. A musical pack rat is me

A few things...

This is Ezra Pound, modernist poet, punk symphony composer, photographed in 1920:



1920! Look at him! He was living in the 70s a half century before they happened! Now that's modernist.

I finished Watchmen today. It's such a great read. No heroes, no villains, just brilliant characters... the entire story unfolds in this morally grey haze, yet in the end, when it turns out Veidt was right... it's all very complex and satisfying. Relevant, even; sometimes even today, it seems like we're on the brink of our own sort of doomsday, just with economic collapse instead of nuclear fallout. Maybe all we need is restored perspective, an alien invasion...

Anyway, it's all very thought-provoking, and there's no way the movie will live up to it, but oh well. Directors and screenwriters, y'know, they just have this compulsion, this oath, that no material shall ever pass through their maws untampered with. I really appreciated how it ended with a John Cale quote... do you think you'll hear any John Cale or Bob Dylan or Elvis Costello in the movie? I doubt it. You just have to hope people read the series. It should be the price of admission.

My headphones finally died today. It's really quite tragic. I can't listen to anything here now, unless everyone is out. I have nothing to block out bus noise on the way to school, besides the songs in my head. Yet I'm not too upset. Hopefully a replacement will come for Christmas, or my siblings will dig up or bring me an extra pair when they visit. In the meantime, it's back to stuff like reading and peoplewatching. I had hardly taken my headphones off when I first noticed something silly: there were these two girls sitting behind me, and one was really bright and talkative, discussing the Twilight premiere, drama between her online friends, etc., and the girl being subjected to this would make these polite responses once in a while, like "hmm" or "wow" or "oh gosh," with this barely perceptible hint of discomfort that the talking girl was cheerfully oblivious to. It made me smile. There was something familiar about it, but I'm not sure who I was empathising with—the enthusiastic girl or the patient one. Maybe both.

Then I was on such a high from finishing Watchmen that I was able to mull through the boisterous, pushy crowds at my school all day, which are without a doubt spotted with actual criminals as well as future ones, and just observe the self-satisfied way one would carry himself, or the possessive, threatening arm another would put around his girlfriend, or the obnoxiously loud calls of "EYYYYYYYYY" that jocks around here throw to each other upon sight... and you know what? After reading Watchmen, it didn't bother me so much. I was in too thoughtful a mood. So today is a day in which I came to hate humanity a little less. That's what a good story does for you, I guess.

Pushing Daisies isn't on today because of the Country Music Awards, so now I'm sitting here trying to figure them out.

It seems like every time I hear someone talk about their musical tastes, they say something to the effect of "Oh, I listen to all kinds of music... *grimace* except COUNTRY." It sounds so ignorant, close minded, categorically dismissing a mode of expression like that. I mean, I get it, it can be really trite, conservative, hard to stomach, and whatnot, but that's really indicative of bad songwriters, not a bad genre.

I've been listening to a lot of Neil Young lately—beautifully earnest, distinctive, Canadian, kind of a rock/country blend—and the Eagles are apparently country, because they're playing tonight, and then there's folk, which is a hip thing to like still... bah, labels, genres. Everyone knows they suck.

Anyway, I get the feeling that a lot of people around here just object to the folksy, "down home" flavour to it... but it isn't even folksy. I don't know what it is. I just saw a bit of the show: Hugh Jackman got up, Hugh Jackman, and some other Australian chick (non-American Hollywood thespian Commie types no doubt), to introduce the winner for Single of the Year. The guy who won held up his trophy and thanked the people who wrote the song for him, thanked the musicians who played the song, and thanked the guy who produced the song. What exactly did this guy do, then, to deserve an award, besides having money and a cowboy hat?

I wonder if there's country music purists. Are there people who are disappointed or alienated by what I'm seeing on TV tonight? Is it safe to assume the CMA is no more representative of country music than the Grammy's are of music in general? Maybe, then, there are genuine musical patrons who appreciate country, but have to suffer as much as the rest of us through its popular representation.

But maybe the corporate show is all that's really left of country.

A girl in my class, really smart, a wannabe lawyer, was talking today about how she went on a trip to Alabama, and how disgusting it was. She told about how the people were fat and the ground was covered in trash, and how there was a mall in one town full of young girls, really young, wearing makeup and slinky clothes, looking like prostitutes. She said it was embarrassing the way they live, as if it was their choice. And maybe it is; who can draw a line between nature and nurture, choice and circumstance? She suggested America would be better off if the south was just cut off, if we were two separate countries. Maybe it would. She complained that Tennessee accents make women sound like little girls. I understand the feeling. My family vacations sometimes at a Sea Pines in South Carolina, and we drive through scary-looking towns, and encounter annoying accents filling the pool, cawing at the beach, sunny and superficial, and it makes one feel very other. But... I can't be comfortable with that kind of sentiment. People are people, regardless of the society, and thus can be rationalised, be relatable, defensible, no worse, inherently, than our more immediate countrymen. Right?

Next time someone hates on country music, I'm going to ask them for clarification. What is country music, exactly? I don't understand. I really don't.

The dude was out of control. I've been reading about 'im. Forget all the boring economic stuff he did, and his Aaron Burr duel. Even prior to that, he lived a steamy life.

He was involved in the first sex scandal in American politics. It was nuts―the whole thing was set up by this girl's abusive husband, so he could blackmail Hamilton, threating to expose the affair and ruin his good name. So what did Hamilton do? Basically, he kept paying the guy so he could carry on the affair for three years. Crazy. Or maybe he was just really in love?

Anyway, the girl's husband was also involved in counterfeiting. When he got caught, he implicated Hamilton as a member of the operation, for no reason other than causing drama, I guess. Hamilton had to choose between revealing his affair to explain away the accusation or having himself associated with organized crime.

He eventually went public with his adultery confession. Interesting to note: about a month before this, the girl finally got a divorce from her husband. The lawyer who represented her in the proceedings? AARON BURR. WHAAAAAAAAA

There's also rumors that he had another affair with his wife's sister, but nobody knows for sure because his family went back and edited the contents of all his letters to her.

So later on he and Aaron Burr had their duel in New Jersey to settle their political rivalry. They held it on a certain ridge that was a popular dueling place back then, where Hamilton's own son was killed in a duel three years before. Sounds like a bad idea, but when did that ever stop the guy?

Going into the duel, Hamilton wrote that he didn't want to shoot Burr, so he planned to throw away his first shot, and possibly his second. But he apparently wasn't aware of all the official proceedings that a duelist goes through when they turn with no intention of shooting. So instead he nailed the tree branch above Aaron Burr's head. Then Burr shot him.

There's still a big debate over what Hamilton's real intentions were with the duel. I like to think he had some climactic moment of clarity before being shot, where he reflected on all the ridiculous goings-on in his life and decided it was time to cease his participation in them. But some say he was just trying to make Burr look bad in the event that he lost. Also, apparently he may have been manic-depressive? What a dramatic guy. When's the movie?

I was looking for something in my old Physics notes today, and I happened across a page about calculating mechanical energy in springs.

On the back of the sheet, I had scribbled some pickup lines:

"Baby, your elastic potential makes my spring coefficient go all static"

"Care to convert the carbs in these drinks to kinetic energy? Maybe through some simple harmonic motion over at your place?"

And with these four simple lines, in 1648,
poet Robert Herrick authored the first documented Dead Baby Joke in the English language.

For all functions describing net cuteness in which x = the cuteness of any given animal and y = the ability to glow in the fucking dark,

f ( x + y ) > f ( x )



Figure 1.1 — a demonstration of Kernan's Law

I went to read up on the term heteronormativity. Here are some things I eventually discovered:

    1.  Wikipedia's article for masturbation is really long   

    2.  The phrase "radical lesbian feminists" sounds like it should be a comic book

    3.  St. Priapus Church is one of the most awesomely ridiculous things I have ever read about.

Your result for The LONG Scientific Personality Test...

INFJ - the counselor

Take The LONG Scientific Personality Test at HelloQuizzy

I should take myself less seriously? Hum. :(

Anyway, here is the much more important test:

Your result for The Harry Potter Husband Test...

Mrs. Lupin

Take The Harry Potter Husband Test at HelloQuizzy

D'aww

Last year in school I gave myself the challenge of drawing a comic every week, one per page in my student planner (I deemed this a better use of paper than writing down homework, I guess).

I wanted it to last all year but I stopped about halfway through when I realised it was bringing me none of the love or truth or fulfillment that I somehow hoped drawing funny things would bring. Since then I've kind of forgotten about them.

BUT. Lately it seems a few people think the stuff I draw is pretty okay? I can't take that for granted, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to make a little collection of these now.

my face is fat :c