I am overly inspired -- and somewhat overwhelmed -- with non-Media Diet projects right now.
I'm working for a startup poised to launch in the next month-plus, I'm working on a super-secret blog project that's captured my blogging attention and interest, and I'm "writing a novel." So I need to take a blogging breather right here, right now.
That means that Media Diet may be quiet until the first of the upcoming year. Say, 2006. That doesn't mean that Media Diet is dead (long live Media Diet!). It just means that it's resting.
I'll be back.
Update: I will continue to update my Delicious links during the hiatus, so you can keep up with that RSS feed if you suffer withdrawal.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Comics and Collaboration
DIY writer Jim Munroe and Montreal illustrator Michel Lacombe have come up with a comic book called the Bold Explorers that ties into Munroe's novel An Opening Act of Unspeakable Evil. And they're offering the comic online for free, as well via POD. The full-page images load a little slowly on this rainy Thanksgiving in Brooklyn, so I've yet to read much of the work, but it's a laudable project -- kudos!
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Complimentary Comic!
Sorry to post this so late in the day, but today's edition of the New York Post comes with a free comic book insert. Designed to promote the What's New Scooby-Doo cartoon on Kids' WB, as well as DC's Scooby-Doo comic book, the 36-page "special collector's edition" also heralds the launch of Mad Kids with three pages of ads and an insert card.
Every day, I read the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal on the train. Today, I also read the New York Post. This might be the first circulation ploy I've fallen prey to. Insert a comic every day, and I'll become a daily reader!
Monday, November 21, 2005
Products I Love XVII
Slingshot's 2006 Organizer: Get it. Mail order or at Clovis Press in Williamsburg, you need a planner. Need.
Saturday, November 19, 2005
The Free-Range Comic Book Project XLVIII
This is an installment of Media Diet's Free-Range Comic Book Project:
For more information on this project, please refer to this Media Diet entry.
Sandman Presents: Petrefax #3 (DC, May 2000). Writer: Mke Carey. Artist: Steve Leialoha. Location: On a table at McSorley's Old Ale House. (Thanks, Megan!)
Star Trek: Voyager #3 (Marvel, January 1997). Writer: Laurie S. Sutton. Artist: Jesus Redondo. Location: On the Metro-North train between Irvington and Grand Central Terminal.
For more information on this project, please refer to this Media Diet entry.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Comics and Conversation
At the Big Apple Con this Saturday, S. Clay Wilson, Spain Rodriguez, Kim Deitch, Dan Fogel, and Charles Plymell will talk about the history and current state of underground comics during a panel discussion. Might be reason enough to go to the show!
Monday, November 14, 2005
The Free-Range Comic Book Project XLVII
This is an installment of Media Diet's Free-Range Comic Book Project:
For more information on this project, please refer to this Media Diet entry.
X-Force #69 (Marvel, September 1997). Writer: John Moore. Artist: Adam Pollina. Location: On a Metro-North train between Grand Central and Croton-Harmon.
Wildcats Adventures #9 (Image, May 1995). Writer: Jeff Mariotte. Artist: Ben Herrera. Location: On a Metro-North train between Irvington and Grand Central.
For more information on this project, please refer to this Media Diet entry.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Event-O-Dex XXI
Wednesday, Nov. 16: Slim Cessna's Auto Club shows up at the Rodeo Bar. Like chocolate and peanut butter, these two. I will so be there.
Thursday, Nov. 17: Choo Choo la Rouge plays at the Cake Shop with Jennifer O'Connor (Matador Records) and the Dreadful Yawns (Bomp! Records). 9 p.m., $7.
Thursday, Nov. 17: Choo Choo la Rouge plays at the Cake Shop with Jennifer O'Connor (Matador Records) and the Dreadful Yawns (Bomp! Records). 9 p.m., $7.
Comics and Collections
If you live in the Seattle area, Sessions Gallery's forthcoming exhibit Real Art appears promising. Inspired by a Peter Bagge comic strip criticizing a fine art exhibition at the Henry Museum, the show features fine art about comics and comics about fine art. Co-curated by Don Hudgins and David Lasky, the show includes the work of Peter Bagge, Jeremy Eaton, Megan Kelso, David Lasky, Robert Rini, and Greg Stump. Opens Nov. 12.
[Thanks, Don!]
[Thanks, Don!]
Publishing and Comics
My friend Greg Cook now does a comic strip for Publishers Weekly. The first installment ran Oct. 24, and they've delayed the second... sillies. Check it out.
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Nanowrimo: Day Eight
22. Wring out the Vote
You might think that it was Peach's surreptitious nighttime B&E adventures and subsequent leavings behind of the frogs. It wasn't. It was another thing entirely. With the coming of autumn, also came election season. And Peach, being a dyed-in-the-wool particicrat, brought out the vote.
Leaving his apartment, he walked down the street to the corner, took a left, walked along the edge of the park, took another left, walked the length of the grade school and fallout shelter, and walked down the stairs to his local polling place. He was hellbent on voting.
Earlier in the fall, he'd been unable to vote because, even though he was a particicrat, he wasn’t affiliated with a specific party. It being the primaries at the time—when party-specific candidates were selected for the later general selection—he wasn't allowed to vote because he was unaffiliated.
He didn't know that would happen until he had left his apartment, walked down the street to the corner, taken a left, walked along the edge of the park, taken another left, walked the length of the grade school and fallout shelter, and walked down the stairs to his local polling place.
Once down the stairs and in the close confines of his local selection place, he learned from the elderly, disorganized, and chatty volunteers, that he wasn't listed in any of the party's rolls. So he had to leave. He did so, took a left, walked along the length of the school, took a right, walked along the edge of the park, took another right, and returned home, slightly disillusioned by his country's themocracy.
But this selection, being a general selection, was different. As an unaffiliated particicrat, Peach could vote. And so he did. Early and often. Once logged in and safely in the cozy confines of the polling space, he paused. He concentrated. And he became aware of the other polling machines. He could sense fingers poised on flip switches, switches about to flip, and switches in mid-flip.
And he pulsed. While the machines reflected the votes cast to the voters casting said votes, the machines recorded other votes. Peach's vote. His votes. Peach voted for one, tens, and hundreds of voters while he paused, concentrated, and pulsed. And when he felt as though he'd voted enough, he stopped pulsing and concentrating. Then he voted, one last time. His time.
Stepping out of the polling space, he made eye contact with the elderly, disorganized, and chatty volunteer collecting polling cards from the gathered particicrats. She didn't appear pleased. He walked past the line of people waiting to enter the polling space once he was done, casting his eyes to the concrete floor.
He walked up the stairs and followed the route, a route with which you should now be familiar, and went home. Particicrats, decide.
23. A Brief Announcement from the Management
There is no chapter 23.
24. Meeting in Secret
Minutes of meeting between Peachpit Sebastian and unnamed representatives of the United Places of America at the Starvation Army Recruiting Station on Main Street in Libertyville at 3 p.m., Nov. 11.
People present:
Minutes taken by Abe Foreu, notorious publicistnotary public. Dicated, not read.
Good Unnamed Representative: I'm glad you could join us, Peach.
Bad Unnamed Representative: Boo! Hiss! Pfft!
Peachpit: Well, I must say that I was intrigued by your letter. What skill could I possibly have that the Government is interested in? I am but an out-of-work astrophysicist.
BUR: I wonder why you're out of work!
Peach: What?
BUR: I said, "I'm surprised you can't find work."
Peach: Huh.
GUR: Don't mind my colleague. He got up on the wrong side of the wrong bed this morning. We're very interested in learning what you're able to do. And how. Because we think that you may be able to help us with a problem.
Peach: As a registered particicrat, I'm always happy to help the Government. What would you like to know?
GUR: Did you vote in the most recent selection?
Peach: I did.
BUR: How many times, I wonder?
Peach: Huh?
GUR: Never mind him. When and where did you vote?
Peach: It was late in the day, and at my polling space. On the other side of the park by my apartment.
GUR: Were you an informed voter?
Peach: What do you mean?
GUR: Were you aware of the issues at stake?
Peach: Yes. I make a point of knowing as much about the plandidates as possible. Where they stand on the issues that matter to me and the community in which I live. And whether their stances would affect my—and my family's—life positively or negatively.
BUR: Self-interested sperm.
Peach: What?
GUR: "Responsible one," I think he said. How long did you take to vote?
Peach: Hmm… I was probably in the polling space for 15 minutes.
GUR: Do you usually take that long to vote?
Peach: Well, this was a particularly important selection. There were a lot of options to weigh.
BUR: Pansy ass.
Peach: What did you say?
GUR: "Such as?"
Peach: Well, in addition to the general selections, there was the Traffic Island initiative.
GUR: The Traffic Island initiative?
Peach: Surely you're aware of it. Did you vote?
BUR: Dipshit. Hell no.
Peach: Huh?
GUR: "I did. As soon as I could go."
Peach: I see. Well, it was to determine whether we would to start to populate and defenestrate Traffic Island, which is protected land. And whether we would tap into its natural resources to meet the needs of Libertyville.
GUR: Do you know why Traffic Island is protected land?
Peach: It's worth protecting.
BUR: "It's worth protecting."
GUR: Worth protecting… why?
Peach: Because it's not currently populated?
GUR: Why would that be?
Peach: Because it's… worth protecting?
BUR: "Because it's worth protecting?"
GUR: Let's move on. What if I were to say that I have a video tape, or two, or three that made the time you spent in the polling space seem somewhat suspicious?
Peach: I would say, "Let's go to the tape."
BUR: I'm not sure that's such a good idea.
GUR: What?
BUR: Seriously, how much are we going to tell this guy?
Peach: What are you talking about?
BUR: We're talking about the future of Libertyville. And the destruction of Freeburg.
GUR: BUR!
BUR: Come on, you ponce. Let's wrap this up. This Peach-SHIT isn't going to help us.
GUR: BUR!
BUR: Do I have to do everything?
GUR: Right, right. OK, Peach, you have a choice. Let's say, a vote.
Peach: I'm confused. But I'm a confused particicrat. So, what's the choice.
GUR: You can come with us.
BUR: Or you can go to jail.
GUR: BUR!
Peach: Are you two going to jail?
GUR: No.
BUR: Um, no.
Peach: Then I'll go with you.
BUR: You mean, like, go out with me?
Peach: No. We're not going out. But I'd rather go wherever you're going—then, well, go to jail.
BUR: Dammit.
GUR: Huh. OK, Peach. You've made your choice. You're a better particicrat than I anticipated. We have no choice but to…
Peach: To…?
BUR: Make you pass out with this blast of unawareness gas. Pfft!
Peach: ...
You might think that it was Peach's surreptitious nighttime B&E adventures and subsequent leavings behind of the frogs. It wasn't. It was another thing entirely. With the coming of autumn, also came election season. And Peach, being a dyed-in-the-wool particicrat, brought out the vote.
Leaving his apartment, he walked down the street to the corner, took a left, walked along the edge of the park, took another left, walked the length of the grade school and fallout shelter, and walked down the stairs to his local polling place. He was hellbent on voting.
Earlier in the fall, he'd been unable to vote because, even though he was a particicrat, he wasn’t affiliated with a specific party. It being the primaries at the time—when party-specific candidates were selected for the later general selection—he wasn't allowed to vote because he was unaffiliated.
He didn't know that would happen until he had left his apartment, walked down the street to the corner, taken a left, walked along the edge of the park, taken another left, walked the length of the grade school and fallout shelter, and walked down the stairs to his local polling place.
Once down the stairs and in the close confines of his local selection place, he learned from the elderly, disorganized, and chatty volunteers, that he wasn't listed in any of the party's rolls. So he had to leave. He did so, took a left, walked along the length of the school, took a right, walked along the edge of the park, took another right, and returned home, slightly disillusioned by his country's themocracy.
But this selection, being a general selection, was different. As an unaffiliated particicrat, Peach could vote. And so he did. Early and often. Once logged in and safely in the cozy confines of the polling space, he paused. He concentrated. And he became aware of the other polling machines. He could sense fingers poised on flip switches, switches about to flip, and switches in mid-flip.
And he pulsed. While the machines reflected the votes cast to the voters casting said votes, the machines recorded other votes. Peach's vote. His votes. Peach voted for one, tens, and hundreds of voters while he paused, concentrated, and pulsed. And when he felt as though he'd voted enough, he stopped pulsing and concentrating. Then he voted, one last time. His time.
Stepping out of the polling space, he made eye contact with the elderly, disorganized, and chatty volunteer collecting polling cards from the gathered particicrats. She didn't appear pleased. He walked past the line of people waiting to enter the polling space once he was done, casting his eyes to the concrete floor.
He walked up the stairs and followed the route, a route with which you should now be familiar, and went home. Particicrats, decide.
23. A Brief Announcement from the Management
There is no chapter 23.
24. Meeting in Secret
A lot of strikeouts have yet to be implemented. Imagine that all of the identifying details have been stricken out.
Minutes of meeting between Peachpit Sebastian and unnamed representatives of the United Places of America at the Starvation Army Recruiting Station on Main Street in Libertyville at 3 p.m., Nov. 11.
People present:
- Peachpit Sebastian
- Good Unnamed Representative
- Bad Unnamed Representative
Minutes taken by Abe Foreu, notorious publicistnotary public. Dicated, not read.
Good Unnamed Representative: I'm glad you could join us, Peach.
Bad Unnamed Representative: Boo! Hiss! Pfft!
Peachpit: Well, I must say that I was intrigued by your letter. What skill could I possibly have that the Government is interested in? I am but an out-of-work astrophysicist.
BUR: I wonder why you're out of work!
Peach: What?
BUR: I said, "I'm surprised you can't find work."
Peach: Huh.
GUR: Don't mind my colleague. He got up on the wrong side of the wrong bed this morning. We're very interested in learning what you're able to do. And how. Because we think that you may be able to help us with a problem.
Peach: As a registered particicrat, I'm always happy to help the Government. What would you like to know?
GUR: Did you vote in the most recent selection?
Peach: I did.
BUR: How many times, I wonder?
Peach: Huh?
GUR: Never mind him. When and where did you vote?
Peach: It was late in the day, and at my polling space. On the other side of the park by my apartment.
GUR: Were you an informed voter?
Peach: What do you mean?
GUR: Were you aware of the issues at stake?
Peach: Yes. I make a point of knowing as much about the plandidates as possible. Where they stand on the issues that matter to me and the community in which I live. And whether their stances would affect my—and my family's—life positively or negatively.
BUR: Self-interested sperm.
Peach: What?
GUR: "Responsible one," I think he said. How long did you take to vote?
Peach: Hmm… I was probably in the polling space for 15 minutes.
GUR: Do you usually take that long to vote?
Peach: Well, this was a particularly important selection. There were a lot of options to weigh.
BUR: Pansy ass.
Peach: What did you say?
GUR: "Such as?"
Peach: Well, in addition to the general selections, there was the Traffic Island initiative.
GUR: The Traffic Island initiative?
Peach: Surely you're aware of it. Did you vote?
BUR: Dipshit. Hell no.
Peach: Huh?
GUR: "I did. As soon as I could go."
Peach: I see. Well, it was to determine whether we would to start to populate and defenestrate Traffic Island, which is protected land. And whether we would tap into its natural resources to meet the needs of Libertyville.
GUR: Do you know why Traffic Island is protected land?
Peach: It's worth protecting.
BUR: "It's worth protecting."
GUR: Worth protecting… why?
Peach: Because it's not currently populated?
GUR: Why would that be?
Peach: Because it's… worth protecting?
BUR: "Because it's worth protecting?"
GUR: Let's move on. What if I were to say that I have a video tape, or two, or three that made the time you spent in the polling space seem somewhat suspicious?
Peach: I would say, "Let's go to the tape."
BUR: I'm not sure that's such a good idea.
GUR: What?
BUR: Seriously, how much are we going to tell this guy?
Peach: What are you talking about?
BUR: We're talking about the future of Libertyville. And the destruction of Freeburg.
GUR: BUR!
BUR: Come on, you ponce. Let's wrap this up. This Peach-SHIT isn't going to help us.
GUR: BUR!
BUR: Do I have to do everything?
GUR: Right, right. OK, Peach, you have a choice. Let's say, a vote.
Peach: I'm confused. But I'm a confused particicrat. So, what's the choice.
GUR: You can come with us.
BUR: Or you can go to jail.
GUR: BUR!
Peach: Are you two going to jail?
GUR: No.
BUR: Um, no.
Peach: Then I'll go with you.
BUR: You mean, like, go out with me?
Peach: No. We're not going out. But I'd rather go wherever you're going—then, well, go to jail.
BUR: Dammit.
GUR: Huh. OK, Peach. You've made your choice. You're a better particicrat than I anticipated. We have no choice but to…
Peach: To…?
BUR: Make you pass out with this blast of unawareness gas. Pfft!
Peach: ...
Monday, November 07, 2005
Corollary: Technofetishism XLV
I haven't used my iSight camera for two years thanks to my former employer's restrictive firewall policies, but I am now able to once again use what was once the neatest new technology I'd encountered. If you use an iSight, look for me -- and I'll try to figure out how to work real-time images into the blog.
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