Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Dog Day's Journey into Night

Rest in Peace, Babs...

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Breaking News...

Apparently, Spider-Man is Peter Parker.

Yes.

Alright, so that's not shocking to anyone in our world, but everybody in the pages of Marvel Comics is gonna go apeshit over this come July's books shipping. God, I can't wait to see Pete's old boss (and #1 Spidey Hater) J. Jonah Jameson's reaction, other than the simple fainting shown in Civil War #2.

Now, why does any of this matter? It doesn't. Not one fucking bit. Go read up on current geopolitics at Wikipedia.

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Still here? Alright. Y'see, this is gonna be like back when they changed Superman. No no, not when he died, a few years after that....They changed him....His costume was all blue and electric....He had electric powers and shit....Seriously? Okay, fuck it, this will be like when they killed Robin....Of "Batman and...?"....Yeah.... They had two pay numbers that fans could vote in on....Really?....Yeah it caused a big to do....Jesus, if you don't know about any of that what the hell are you still doing here? This is a geek article.

So anyways, I'm fine with Peter Parker publicly revealing his identity (in the comics). It's a distinct step forward in the series, and an evolution of the character's life (just like finally marrying Mary Jane). Of course, many people like to imagine that since the 40 some-odd years that Spider-Man's been published to the 15 some-odd years he claims to have existed, just don't add up, and thus, no comic has to realistically acknowledge the passage of time (except night becoming day and the seasons). But nobody ages. Ever. There are plenty of jokes I could make, but that's a whole 'nother article (which I am now going to conceive and plague the interweb with). Anyways, this means that Bruce Wayne isn't in his early-forties, Dick Grayson just grew like a weed during his (apparently still ongoing) adolescence. Right.

So readers of comics are beginning to acknowledge the passage of time. Okay, so what's the big problem? Well, this means that the comics feature a setting (Peter Parker's identity is NOT secret) that differs from the overall mythology publicly known. Does anybody who knows "Batman and Robin" understand that there have been FOUR separate Robins? Fuck no, and good luck explaining it to 'em.

So when people read this, they're gonna get all confused and say, "well shit, what's gonna happen in the movie?" Nothing. Separate media, separate stories. That's why you Smallville freaks need to stop looking for clues to the future of your precious show in the new movie. They aren't related (except by featuring the exact same characters).

A lot of people are going to be upset by this change, especially how it radically alters the nature of the Spider-Man story of "Guy is nerd, guy gets powers, guy becomes superhero, guy doesn't get to have an awesome cool life because no one can know about it, angst and deflective humor ensue." To these people, let me offer some sage words: SHUT...THE...FUCK...UP.

I've kept with Spidey for the past five years, through some of the most controversial story-arcs ever printed about him (except Clone Saga; if you know nothing else about Spider-Man, know that nothing is as horrible as Clone Saga). This is just interesting. If you people want to "drop Marvel forever," good riddance. You're all just unappreciative of taking risks in storytelling. And you're pussies. Big cowardly pussies. And you need to bathe. And Batman COULD kick Captain America's ass.

"Timmy Threatened on Facebook..."

So, apparently, there's this thing on the interweb called facebook where people go to further the relationships they establish at work and school.

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My brain just has some trouble understanding this concept. You want to further the relationships you've established at work and school, increasing the time you spend with these people? I mean, how fucking lonely and starved for attention do you have to be to email and text message the shit out of people you already see most of the week?

If it hasn't already occured to you, I have recently joined Facebook. Yes, it is true. The disease is spreading. In all honesty, it wasn't my idea...entirely. A great number of my so-called "friends" who have moved away keep contact through sending messages and photos via Facebook. The software itself is set up to connect people through mutual friends, school classes and organizations. I basically see it as an alumnist tool, enabling people to stay in contact after graduating high school and/or college. It's also really good for stalking people after they think they've escaped your attention... My own delightful creepiness aside, the most criticism of Facebook comes from incidents where petulant high schoolers continue their school politics in another forum. I don't think Facebook is much to blame for that, they've just made the easiest place for this to happen.

Anyways, my "friends" were on Facebook, and recommended I join. I wisely declined, citing my desire to remain as withdrawn as possible from the current vortex of "Me, Me, Me" software currently booming (such as IMing, texting, MySpace-easy web design). Granted, it all facilitates easier communication, but that's a double-edged sword. Just because people have the ability to speak, does not mean they will speak well. But I'm getting off track. I was free from Facebook. I never IMed or texted. I only visited MySpace for the softcore porn (incidentally, yahoo groups are still a better method for getting free porn). So what happened? Fucking kismet, that's what. That bitch Fate is always sticking her nose where it's not wanted.

I come across an old friend from high school, not seen since graduation a couple years ago. We say hi, he's on his way to a class at the community college we're both standing in (cheap and easy credits, yo), so I ask him to write down his email, we'll talk later. The address doesn't work for shit. It has some suspicious punctuation before the "at" symbol. But removing what could just be an ink splotch still doesn't work. I'd really like to catch up with this person, but I've no way to contact him, nor am I incredibly likely to see him unless I devote a ridiculous amount of time to hanging around the community college. Where on Earth could I go to track down this person?

Facebook.

Nearly everyone high school or college age has a Facebook account, enabling them to be found by name, region and school by anyone who registers their own account with a valid email address (though it probably has to be connected to a school or business these days). I had the poor bastard's page within ten minutes (and that's because I had to register). So, I located the person, sent a message, and that was it...

...or so I thought.

You see, the addictive thing about Facebook is this: it's free, it's accesible, and my generation is easily amused. So now I start combing this person's Friends List, then comb those people's Friend Lists, then comb those people's Friends List. Soon enough, I had seen pages for practically everyone in my senior class schedule (and those people at graduation you ask, "you went to school with us?"). So of course, I get bored. I start typing. I start messaging. Soon I'm amassing a Friends List. And now I'm caught in the viral web. A little fly who got too curious and is now stuck in the electronic social quagmire, being sucked at by other users. I'd tried so hard to get away from some of these people. I just wanted to say hello to a few I'd had lunch with a few times.

That bastard should have just given me the right email address or none at all.

I Went to Seattle and All I Got Was This Permanent Decorative Scarring...

Despite the worldwide view that all Americans live a constant life of hedonistic leisure, sucking down food, media and drugs 24/7, it's quite rare when I hear of people taking an honest-to-God vacation. And by vacation, I mean dropping every scheduled event in your life, and just pissing off to somewhere new. Luckily, this May was different from other Mays. My older brother, my only brother but older, was graduating law school in Seattle. Basically fulfilled my mother's dream. Now she can say with deft pleasure, "my son, the lawyer..." like any self-respecting Jewess. Alright, so her dream is really that her children all receive degrees in higher learning and she retire to run a bakery or bed-and-breakfast, but the other line is funnier (and god have mercy on the first person she says that to).

The basic prize in all this for me was mooching a trip up to Washington from my parents. Granted, I've mooched every stitch of clothing, piece of furniture, and meal in my life from my parents, but travel has so much more spiritual symbolism, you can pawn it off as significant life experience. Let me say, I usually hate flying, because of my dislike for sitting still for long periods of time, and the cramped spaces of modern airlines, it makes for a very uncomfortable trip at upwards of four hours. The view, however, is many times what the television or film would have believe: the Rockies, the grasslands, the rural farms, the Northwest; it's all very breathtaking, and your eyes just simply can't take in enough of it at once.

The arrival at the airport was a bit of a culture shock, not really because Starbucks was everywhere, but how Green-conscious the city really was. All public facilities and sanitation services were geared towards conservation. I can only imagine how impacting similar guidelines across the U.S. could be. The day was fairly early, and getting to see the evergreen trees canvasing the region was quite a change from the views here in North Texas. My parents and I would eventually see much of the city, but here are the highlights:
-The Space Needle: Don't go there early in the morning, because the top floor's coffee stand is for shit. Do go there early in the morning for a beautiful, crisp few of the city without gobs of tourists around you. The viewing scopes are (mostly) free, and there are plenty of key areas of the city to zoom in and check out.
-The Seattle Aquarium: 1) My mother always visits the nearest aquarium when she travels, 2) I like sea otters. Unfortunately we were at the aquarium when legions of schoolchildren were descending. The high shrieks bouncing off the wall were enough to cause dolphins commit suicide, so we departed after quickly viewing all the interesting sea life mankind doesn't give a shit about.
-The Science Fiction Museum: right up beside the Needle is this gem of a tourist attraction, located in the freaky Experience Music Project building. I was geeking out the entire time. Literature, film, radio, TV, EVERY damn thing you can think of they referenced in their exhibits. The rooms were "pimped to the nines" with memorabilia (if I may use such a horrendous blending of metaphor and slang). I was geeking out. Comparing to the more well-known EMP exhibits, I have to say the Sci-Fi Museum was better. The tour could progress easier, and the sights and sounds weren't overwhelming so that you didn't know where to look or listen.
-Pike Place Market: this IS Seattle. If you've never been to a street market, you need to drop by here. Notable for the entertaining Pike Place Fish workers, the market has numerous shops and levels with just about something for everyone. Half-price books, fresh flowers, baked goods, nostaglic art and posters, magic tricks, and more. This is souvenier heaven.

Now, while we travelled around, we did occassionally stop for a meal, and let me say, do not plan to eat fast food here. The local restaurants deserve your money. No doubt it's expensive as hell, but you get a memorable experience, and a rewarding meal.

All of this was secondary to me, however, even though I was looking forward to congratulating my brother on his hard work paying off. My main motive to going to Seattle was to get a tattoo. Now, in the modern western world, tattoos have become a rite of passage. Of course, they've also become co-opted as another trend to be clichéd into the ground, but I see tattooing as so ancient and primal that no amount of modern re-interpretation can damage what it is at its core. My sister, who also lived in Seattle, had a local artist that she'd gone to for years, and was happy to foot the bill for my first ink (happy being a bit of a misnomer in her case).

Now, like I said, certain tattoo designs have become clichéd through overuse. But, despite choosing Japanese kanji for my selection, I believe that the individual word I chose has enough personal meaning to be important to me. Go here for a pic. This is the same advice I dispense to friends: if you have a symbol or design with distinct personal significance, and you want to have art permanently on your body to reflect this part of you, get the tattoo. If everyone else is in the parlor to get one, DO NOT just choose a cute winking fairy to place on your hip bone. That's just fucking stupid.

Anyways, the time I spent in Seattle was very relaxing, I had a lot of good meals, saw some interesting things, got a tattoo, and got to see my brother graduate law school. The flight back was complete crap, and having to deal with the parental backlash to getting a tattoo was further crap (despite being nearly old enough to buy liquor), but I honestly think you have to risk and take a little discomfort to get a little satisfaction.