Why does a bluegrass cover of Gin and Juice make me so happy?
Why does a bluegrass cover of Gin and Juice make me so happy?
I’ve added some new comics to my reading schedule as well my links list, and I thought I’d share. Because it’s my blog, damn it.
Bad Gods: Lore Sjöberg is a venerable Internet humorist, inspiring belly laughs as one of the Brunching Shuttlecocks, as the creator of Table of Malcontents, and as the author of the Alt Text blog for Wired. Bad Gods started as a weekly Flash animation, went dormant for awhile, and recently resurfaced as a non-animated meta Internet observational humor sort of thing. I’m not quite sure where this new incarnation is going, but I’ve kept it in my RSS reader despite a year-long dearth of updates. Lore is the kind of funny I aspire to, before I devolve into fart jokes and incessant profanity. Updates M&W.
Gunnerkrigg Court: Gunnerkrigg Court concerns the supernatural goings-on at the spooky titular boarding school. It has a very graphic novel kind of feel, with interesting panel layouts and a rich color palette. Author/artist Tom Siddell writes convincing dialog for children, which is rare. Better yet, he knows when it’s appropriate to drop the “blah blah” and let the visuals tell the story, which is nearly unheard of in a lot of online cartooning. The serialized story isn’t comedy necessarily, but it does observe richly emotional and comic moments between the players (human and otherwise). Updates M,W&F.
On my way home from work yesterday, I spotted a convergence of psychobabble chicanery that I’d previously seen only in unpleasant dreams. At one end of the car, a skinny, semi-professional looking blond woman reading The Secret. At the other end of the car, a rough, badly-used looking older gentleman cracking open a large envelope full of glossy Scientology paraphernalia. I swear I could see a fog bank of stupidity forming where their individual credulities converged.
I’m sure I’ve beaten you about the head quite enough with my outrage over The Secret, but I don’t think I’ve ever broached the subject of Hollywood’s favorite cult “religion.” (I don’t have a tag for it yet, and until I find an alternate reality where my memory isn’t so porous, I’ll have to trust the silicon overlord.)
I don’t have the energy to get into it here. The alien warlords and ghosts are almost too ridiculous to comprehend. However, I will make this (not at all insightful) observation; any “religion” that charges you money to learn their teachings is a fucking cult, regardless of what any number of brain-addled celebrities would like you to believe.
By the way, Scientology is also Hollywood’s most notoriously litigious cult “religion,” so I’ll be sure to post a link to my legal defense fund as soon as I receive the cease and desist letter.
I’ve decided that, in situations where a believer would invoke an omnipresent deity, I’m going to start swearing to astronauts.* After all, astronauts are the only beings that I know for sure have been smiling down on us from above the clouds.
*For purposes of this exercise, “astronauts” will include Russian cosmonauts, Chinese taikonauts, and any whatever-nauts from future manned space programs. My admiration for those who’ve flown in space is not bound by anything so silly as nationality.
For the love of astronauts, DO NOT wear flip-flops to work and then complain about injury or discomfort of your feet. That’s what they make shoes for. You’re basically wearing a dry sponge held on by a rubber thong. Of course it’s going to be uncomfortable. By choosing to wear such impractical (and onomatopoeic) footwear in a professional environment, you’ve forfeited your right to complain about the state of your feet.