Rant in C Sharp

A Prescient Note from Carl Sagan

2010-11-30T15:31:00.002-06:00

I'm currently listening to an old audio book recording of Carl Sagan's "The Demon Haunted World". It's a bit distracting listening to a book at work -- to say nothing of the poor sound quality of the transfer and prompts to flip over the long since eschewed tape.

My father and I had recently discussed how our nation doesn't seem to produce much of anything any more. Much of the economy is now service and information based. Accordingly, the following excerpt of the book leapt out at me:

"I have a foreboding of an America in my children's or grandchildren's time -- when the United States is a service and information economy; when nearly all the key manufacturing industries have slipped away to other countries; when awesome technological powers are in the hands of a very few, and no one representing the public interest can even grasp the issues; when the people have lost the ability to set their own agendas or knowledgeably question those in authority; when, clutching our crystals and nervously consulting our horoscopes, our critical faculties in decline, unable to distinguish between what feels good and what's true, we slide, almost without noticing, back into superstition and darkness.

The dumbing down of American is most evident in the slow decay of substantive content in the enormously influential media, the 30 second sound bites (now down to 10 seconds or less), lowest common denominator programming, credulous presentations on pseudo-science and superstition, but especially a kind of celebration of ignorance... The plain lesson is that study and learning -- not just of science, but of anything -- are avoidable, even undesirable.

We've arranged a global civilization in which most crucial elements -- transportation, communications, and all other industries; agriculture, medicine, education, entertainment, protecting the environment; and even the key democratic institution of voting -- profoundly depend on science and technology. We have also arranged things so that no one understands science and technology. This is a prescription for disaster. We might get away with it for a while, but sooner or later this combustible mixture if ignorance and power is going to blow up in our faces."

-Carl Sagan
1995

Groschopf has a great idea

2010-07-28T15:46:00.001-05:00

I can't be everywhere at once, fighting crime and unmasking villainous carnival owners posing as monsters in convoluted realty schemes. To that end, I will sub-contract my defense of Riverwest.

I shall create an elite team of sweater-wearing Jello pudding-slinging suicidal assassins that will dive-bomb threats to the neighborhood.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you... the KamiCosbys.

Christopher Hitchens must show me his cleavage

2010-05-01T18:10:00.009-05:00

For those of you who missed it, April 26th was "Boobquake".

From Bust Magazine:

"It was a joke facebook event started by Jennifer McCreight in response to Iranian Prayer Leader Hojatoleslam Kazem Sedighi's quote that, "Many women who do not dress modestly ... lead young men astray, corrupt their chastity and spread adultery in society, which (consequently) increases earthquakes." Makes sense......Boobquake is a science experiment encouraging women to dress 'immodestly' on the same day (April 26) in hopes of creating a massive earthquake or, you know, proving lady skin DOESN'T actually effect plate techtonics. (Because you know Sedighi knows and cares about what kids are up to on Facebook....)"

Now then... I imagine that this cleric has never heard the phrase "correlation is not causation". Nor, do I suspect, that he's ever heard of a "plunging neckline". So I'm not convinced of the efficacy of such a scientific endeavor -- but by all means, science this thing up!

Science!

Still, were we to follow this guy's line of logic, we would end up concluding that certain people are granted hazardous superpowers predicated on their sexuality and either how the display or practice it. Consider if you will:

• The collective immodesty of women can cause land movement; "Boobquake"
• The Christian right blamed the decadence of gays for Hurricane Katrina; the dreaded "Hurrigay"

What can we infere that men of this ilk harness as their own supernatural ability? Surely the sublimation of their own primal impulses must create some form of natural disaster.

In fact, I think this would make a create premise for a remake of "Captain Planet".

Iranian cleric Hojatoleslam Kazem Sedighi, with the power of Intellectual Famine!
Jerry Falwell, with the Tsunami of Stupid!
Tom Cruise, with the Volcano of Cult Hysteria!

Gooooo VAPID!

UPDATE: The latest podcast of The Skeptics' Guide to the Universe also touches on this subject. Always worth a listen!

Dip Me in Chocolate, Bike to Cleveland

2010-03-03T10:10:00.007-06:00

Lock and load; springtime exercise regimen is a go.

I'm already 69.5 miles deep into it within the last four days. Realistic goal: 300 miles biked by April. Aiming for the sky; 465 miles by April.

10 miles, break to watch "Lost", then bike another 10.

I had fried thirty pounds last year through biking and dietary adjustments. Then, in the first week of October, I learned that I girl I had broken up with three weeks prior had taken her own life. There's a lot more at play with that story than meets the eye or that I shall expound upon in this venue. I still have difficulty coming to grips with it. In short, part of my identity and become that of a man that helped people or ran headlong into conflict in order to right injustices. Then I lost someone. I didn't save her.

The results of that sentiment have been numerous. One of the effects was regaining the majority of the weight that I lost as I stopped exercising and just started eating crap food. Chocolate-coated Haagen-Dazs? I'd down a pint. Pizza Shuttle? Feed me cheese-topped doom.

So it comes as great relief that those trauma-induced behaviors have subsided. Better yet, my previous efforts to better myself have resumed almost effortlessly. Once I fixed my bike and put down 15 miles, the cogs simply started turning again.

I can't even begin to relate how fucking great it feels to be unlocked from my sedentary state. I'm physically addressing some of the emotional impact of October's loss. As goes the body, so goes the mind. I'm literally aiding the healing process.

I know from previous experience that 20 days (over one whole month) of my current fitness program will remove ten pounds of fat. And I'm already 4 days in, putting down 24.5 miles last night alone. So long, grief weight.

Forward.

Update: now that I can drag my route path onto foot and bike trails on Google Maps, I've noticed that Ive actually underestimated the lengths of the my repetitive routes. Turns out my 12 miles Oak Leaf route was really 18.2 miles, and the Capitol-Lake-Summerfest-PO-East Side route I often run is 13.5 miles rather than 12.

Twice in one week?

2009-12-06T23:49:00.014-06:00

Part of a balanced breakfast.

All I ever wanted was a hot dog.

Last week, I was in a car accident. Some dip with a nice car decided he didn't want to traverse a patch of removed asphalt on a Chicago surface street, and subsequently came to a grinding halt.

The van behind him came to a grinding halt.

My car, negotiating rain-slicked streets and left with no time to react, tried to stop -- the wheels said "we're stopping", but the slippery pavement said "let's see those airbags go off when you strike the back of that Econoline.

Picture this in the rain, and with my car.

CPD happened by, wrote up a report, and quickly discovered that I didn't have my proof of insurance in the car with me. The State of Illinois looks down on that. I was summarily told to gather my belongings, put them in the trunk of the squad car, and jump in the back for a ride to the police station.

Needs plastic sheeting for a windshield and some wax.

I signed some paperwork and released shortly after arriving.

I had just begun to charge my cell phone five minutes before the accident, so my phone was dying. My parents, despite being told that I could return to Milwaukee via train, had begun to drive down from Racine to retrieve me. I couldn't make any more calls with my dead phone, and I didn't much care to hang around the lobby of the police station for two hours. I gathered up my two large bags and started my two mile trek back to the car.

My brisk evening stroll sent my wandering down Pulaski. As far as I can tell, the neighborhood didn't look that bad. Certainly not worse than neighborhoods close to where I reside.

I had walked a mile when I noticed a couple on the other side of the bustling roadway. An argument was in progress, with the man insisting that the woman return to his abode with the stroller-bound baby in tow. She was having none of this. Much yelling ensued, and it appeared that she was trying to wait for the bus. I dropped my luggage and simply observed.

He grabbed at the stroller. Now he had my full attention. The woman went off and quickly began striking him about the head, as I presume most mothers would when a heavy-handed man tries to abscond with their offspring. In response, he threw her to the ground and amplified his rhetoric.

Naturally, I found myself bounding across lanes of traffic, forcing cars to stop and bellowing "BREAK IT UP!!!!!" as I charged. Of course. That's the only logical response when you're in another city, after being in a car accident and roaming the nighttime city landscape.

I now had their undivided attention. I got between the two, switched from attack mode to negotiator and started to clear matters up best I could. I didn't want to resort to violence if I didn't have to -- especially since this had all of the markings of a domestic dispute. Odds were, if I hurt this guy, she wouldn't press charges against him, and I'd soon by saying "hello again" to the same two police officers that escorted me to the station not 45 minutes earlier. Of course, I've had a similar internal debate during another incident documented here.

I've learned that the best way to resolve these sort of situations is to use a two-pronged approach. I let loose a loud verbal rapport, and make a dramatic display of force. I immediately follow that with close-range low volume eye-to-eye discussion. Something along the lines of "just tell me what's going on". Essentially, I was to demonstrate to any adversary how things could go combatively, then give them the opportunity to engage diplomatically. It's worked quite well so far, as recorded in this post.

Neither party in this case was thrilled, and the woman was still clearly agitated. The man... well, he was bargaining now. Bargaining with her, and trying to throw out comments for my benefit to try to illustrate how he thought she was being unreasonable. He was trying to work things out now. He obviously let things get out of hand, and it was clear that he no expectation of being disrupted during what now could almost be viewed as a tantrum.

In the midst of all this, as I played human breakwater, I looked down at the baby in the stroller. I really can't tell you if it was a boy or girl, bundled up as it was. November in Chicago, after all. All I recall with clarity was a set of beautiful brown eyes, slightly more comprehending than I was braced to see, looking up at me questioningly. The baby then looked back at the man, and proceeded to cover it's face with the blanket.

The conversation ebbed. Tempers cooled. Tension hung in the air, but repairs were under way. The two ended up walking back down the street from whence they came, and I departed, not wholly satisfied that all would be well. But I had done as much as I could, given the circumstances.

Chalk up one potentially raucous encounter that I entered into, running headlong and alarming sure of my perseverance. In reality, I'm goddamned fortunate situations like this don't end up worse. To be sure, I haven't blogged about them all. But I think that I walk away relatively unscathed every time might be emboldening me.

Pretty as an airport

Fast forward to an hour ago, back in Riverwest, for the second of the week.

I had just brushed my teeth, and I was winding down for the evening. For whatever dorky reason, I was watching a YouTube video of someone else playing the Ghostbuster video game (I don't own a game console, so I have yet to play it myself at length). In the midst of sound effects simulating a book Golem being smashed apart by proton streams, I thought I heard something.

A thud?
A pipe in the basement?
No, it sounded like something outside. Hit the mute.

I didn't have to wait long before hearing the tinkle of glass. I had yet to hear a car alarm sound, so I was sure what I was about to see. I had new neighbors on my floor, and it was possible that I was about to brashly investigate one of them stepping out for a smoke. I threw my boots on haphazardly, grabbed my MagLite, and headed for the backdoor of my building.

There are two residents that park their car in the patch of asphalt betwixt two garages behind my domicile. One belonging to a couple roughly my age, and the other belonging to my dear golden years neighbor.

Evidently, an industrious bloke had set about robbing both of their automobiles of whatever knick-nacks he could.

There he stood, looking up from a smashed SUV window like a deer in headlights. There I was, taking one second to process that this was not anyone on whom I had ever laid eyes.

"HEY!!!!!", I inquired with all of the subtlety of a semi truck smashing through a gas station.

I charged.
He panicked and threw a box of would-be stolen goods at me.
Our private episode of COPS began.

I pursued this man, not clear on if he was armed, on something or precisely what circumstances led him here. I ran at him like a rottweiler locked onto an intruder, and he fled with the proportionate response.

Now then, a word on the art of pursuit: tie your bloody shoes before you try it. Just do it. Throw your boots on in a hurry, sure... but make sure they're securely fastened to your feet.

I sprinted after this man, yelling such arresting dialogue as "STOP!!" and the equally persuasive "I SAID 'STOP', SHITHEAD!!". Amazingly, he did not halt and say "terribly sorry, old chap. Let us engage in meaningful discourse pertinent to the enforcement of justice". Simply shocking.

He changed course two houses up the alley, and we were now striding across the lawn of someones pleasant one-story home. By this point, I was straining to gain on the would-be burglar, as well as trying to keep my boots on my plodding feet. After the length of one block, it was abundantly clear that I would not apprehend this individual unless he fortuitously tripped. I noted that I should acquire velcro combat boots for future use, and returned to the smashed car window party.

He vanished into the night. I returned to my building to inspect the damage. He had broken out the small wing window in the back of my elderly neighbor's car. Surprisingly, he hadn't set off the car alarm. He had better luck than I, considering how my shoveling it out of snow or moving it for said resident would led to audible complications.

What did he try taking from her? Walker wheels. A box containing 6" walker wheels. They were lying on the ground about ten feet from the car. Apparently there's a brisk black market trade of geriatric aides going on out there.

As for the truck I actually caught him breaking into... Tony apparently hadn't properly activated his car alarm. But he had been broken in to before on numerous occasions, so there was nothing of value to loot inside of his automobile either. What the perp had thrown at me was a shoebox.

To review, I tore headlong into possible danger to recover walker wheels and a box of old shoes.

Does this shit ever happen to Batman?

Resilience

2009-12-01T13:44:00.002-06:00

My car seems to be dead. This should bother me, but... it doesn't.

I'm not mangled. No one was injured.

I took a gig eight blocks form my house, so getting to work is a breeze.
The grocery store in on block past work.
I bike every else.

If anything, this turn events seems to reinforce my view that my lifestyle adjustments were correct - I no longer depend on the car, and can carry on without missing a beat.

I'm strangely fine with this.

Man, oh man... when will I learn?

2009-09-09T18:48:00.004-05:00

At this point, I'd love to just rip the lid off of the romance files and explain what the hell has transpired over the last two months. Even then, I doubt clarity would be the result.

I'm torn between lighting a match and watching it burn, and fighting my idiot heart that screams "let's go for it, full throttle!". Thus far, said heart has demonstrated a complete lack of concern for every other organ that comprises my body (itself included).

Anatomically correct.

I can hardly believe that I'm playing the role of emotional support and receiving accolades and yet not a contender. Surely I'm paying the price for my own emotional unavailability in the past and the havoc it wreaked.

Of course, it could always be worse. After all... romantic business isn't going smoothly, but I do seem to be gainfully employed. In fact, I almost need to hire more... me.

Anatomically incorrect.

Will Jason successfully ride out this harsh love recession?
Will Jason get a promotion? Or will his job be shipped overseas?
Will the word staff be used inappropriately (almost certainly)?

Only time will tell!

Currently listening to:

Two Weeks
By Grizzly bear

from Veckatimest

Obligations galore

2009-04-07T22:16:00.003-05:00

I currently work 42 hours a week for a hectic, small company.
I manage the building in which I reside.
I'm a board member of the neighborhood association.
I edit the comics page for a monthly publication.

Part of me is ecstatic that finally, in my late 20's, I've come to terms with obligations and learned to fulfill them. Still, I can't help but notice that whilst I have learned to meet my challenges head on, and I'm meeting the wrong ones.

I went from production of a daily comic strip to managing a multitude of things. most of which are unrelated. No longer are my sketch books brimming with the characters of "Counter-Productive", and even monthly production of comic features have tailed off.

Some of this was voluntary, some of it a product of my own shortcomings and some of it was down to either a features or publications having expended their lifespans. Still, I'm off course. I need to draw. That's what I was meant to do. I've learned some valuable lessons, and life has seen fit to give me new skill sets. Fantastic. I've grown. I've changed.

Now it's time I found my way back to my proper trajectory.

I can't bail on my obligation outright. That's just not how it's done. But I need to get back to my core mission -- and not just pick up where I left off.

I think it's time for me to sketch for the hell of it again. I think it's time for me to create a new comic feature. I think it's time for some bold new thinking and uncharted terrain.

I'm not railing against my present circumstances, nor am I declaring the future glorious and certain. For once, when I'm honest with myself, I don't know what the future will look like. It's not at all clear.

And I've missed that. The perils, the potential, the possibilities...

Sometimes the best reason to do something is just because you can.

Milwaukee's Hidden Comic Shop

2009-02-13T10:57:00.006-06:00

I've lived in Milwaukee since graduating from college. During that time, I've passed a storefront on multiple occasions with the words "the Turning Page" painted on the glass.

The front windows are chaotically wallpapered with comic posters, and and the store never seems to be open. I had actually thought it to be out of business... until last night.

I wound down my nightly bike route by dropping off a video at the Blockbuster on Farwell. Mind you, this is after ten miles of biking in the cold... my eyes were beginning to play tricks on me. When what to my blurry eyes do I see? The seemingly defunct comic shop, windows ablaze with light, and apparently open at 8:00 on a Thursday night.

I stepped inside to investigate and buy a new issue of Hellboy. Here, courtesy of my phone's camera, is what I witnessed:

The shop was very quiet. It reminds me of the crumbling three story spire of books housed in Renaissance over on Plankinton. There were actually four middle-to-late aged men hidden through the small store front silently reading books. Odd B-sides from a Madonna album belched out of the boom box set on top of one shelf of magazines (what local radio station is receiving transmission from 1992?).

Chaos. They have loads of books. Simply a smashing amount--but there appears to be NO ORDER WHATSOEVER.

This man is the cash register. He's a nice guy. I was afraid that he'd catch me snapping a photo. Turns out that he didn't catch me standing in front of him with my wallet out waiting to purchase my books for about three minutes.

And this is simply brilliant. A man, possibly a staffer, asleep in the aisle. Yup. Go back two photos. You can see him still asleep in the aisle.

Mind you, I post this not to make fun. It was just a bit... surreal. They appear to have plenty of new stuff, its just a bit confusing to sort through. I simply feel that there's something uniquely Milwaukee about a place like this.

Oh -- they have bunches of Dr. Who schwag.

I don't want to beat this horse any more, but it's all like "you hit like a girl" and stuff...

2009-01-09T09:14:00.006-06:00

I'm underwhelmed by Caroline Kennedy. Thus far, she has failed to impress with me with less than, you know, engaging , you know, mannerisms and questionable motives for public office. Admittedly, I don't know much about her past her lineage and some clips on the Daily Show. I certainly haven't seen her grilled by Katie Couric and spoofed by SNL yet.

So part of me is almost inclined to agree with Sarah Palin when she says Kennedy is being treated differently by the media than she was. Almost.

Here are the glaring differences, to my way of thinking:

Sarah Palin was introduced to the most contentious presidential election in recent history in the closing months of a prolonged battle for the White House. Caroline Kennedy is is looking at a senate seat after said election is over. We no longer feel the thunder, or feel the roar (however, one could reasonably infer that the Thundercats are loose). The media is once again looking at crap like Courtney Love's haunted studio and flying cows taking out wind turbines in the UK. Oh, and maybe that whole crisis in Gaza too.
Sarah Palin wanted to be the second most powerful person in this country's government and one. Caroline Kennedy wants to be a senator for the state of New York. Guess which one is easier to get worked up over?
Sarah Palin ran for vice president. Caroline Kennedy, as of this post, is considering a an appointment to Hillary Clinton's open seat in New York.

Comparing Sarah Palin's run for Vice President to Caroline Kennedy's consideration of a Senate appointment is what I would classify as a FALSE EQUIVALENCY.

Wait. What's that you say, Sarah?

"A lot of people are capitalizing on, I don't know, I think, perhaps, exploiting that was done via me, my family, my administration."

So, the big, tough "Real America" conservative was exploited by the pussy liberal media?

I thought the liberals are supposed to be the ones that whine and use terms like "exploit" to decry their treatment at the hands of someone else....

What Jingoism Would Toby Keith Use?

I will be so broke next year....

2008-12-03T10:02:00.003-06:00

... after I buy a video game platform and this:

Ghostbusters - Atari Live Trailer
Uploaded by dpadmagazine

Walter Peck gets possessed, the Ecto-1 is fitted with some sort of Ghost Attractor, they have an Ecto Boat and "It wasn't me this time, I swear."

A third movie in interactive form. Geek nirvana. Take me, Atari.

Oh. Don't forget about the full scale replica Proton Pack and Ecto Trap on it's way from Master Replicas.

My checking account is done for. R.I.P., financial solvency.

Mac Hawk Down

2008-11-12T22:36:00.002-06:00

As some of you may or may not now, I have a G5 Mac tower for a home computer. The Big Mac has served me well over these last four and a half years. Until Halloween.

I was IMing on Google when the computer simply shut itself down. Bam. Just off. Nothing to it. It went completely dead, and there has been no restarting it.

I've tried every trick in the book - resetting the PMU, the PRAM, re-seating the RAM, attempting to start in Safe Mode (it won't get that far)... all to no avail.

I finally broke down and took it to the Mac Store. They tinkered around with it for a while before finally concluding that it's probably the logic board. They can't be sure.

They can, however, be sure that it'll cost $685 for a new board and about $100 in labor. In short, I'd have to throw $800 at a $1,500 tower. Nooooooot happening. Hell, for $400 more than the repair can a buy a more powerful iMac. Or save up and get a laptop.

For those of you wondering why I have yet to post photos, have been less than diligent I e-mailing or have had to make special accommodations to complete projects... that's why.

The End of Mediocrity

2008-11-05T11:26:00.002-06:00

The United States of America, 1957:

The United States of America, 2008:

Goddamnit.

2008-10-12T20:49:00.008-05:00

I woke up earlier this week to the sound of yelling. I couldn't discern much, but the word "RUUNNN!" was distinct enough to jolt me right out of bed. In no time flat, I was in my jogging pants, a crappy shirt and my frequently abused running shoes. I could hear the yelling proceed north up my block. I ran towards Center Street.

I reached the end of the block, befuddled and with my hair resembling that of Ace Ventura. I found a serene woman standing at the end of the street. I was confused. This did not look like someone that was just in a mêlée. So I asked: "ummm... is everything alright?".

"What? Oh, yes, yes... I was just yelling at my kids. They're late getting to school, and I was telling them to hurry up and get in before the bell". I looked at the massive paved block across the way and to Pierce Elementary across the way.

False alarm.

This is a frequent occurrence in Riverwest. Sometimes I'll hear bangs outside and play my favorite game, "Were Those Firecrackers or Gunshots?". Sometimes, like earlier this afternoon, the neighbor's kids will running past my living room window screaming as they play. Every time, I have to step outside and verify that all is well.

Which is why I'm pissed at myself tonight.

I had been working on framing some art pieces for Gallery Night this weekend. I was going to take a break and watch Family Guy at 8:00. I recall seeing the clock on the Big Mac tell me it was three minutes shy of the hour when I heard a commotion in the alley.

Are those the neighbor kids shrieking?

No.

Shit! Are my boots on? Where's my jacket? Where's my MagLite?

Boots are on. Jacket's by the door. MagLite is on the nightstand. But fuck the accessories - just get outside. NOW.

Shit.

Move it, asshole!

I ran down the hallway, popped out the back door then slowed. My brain caught up to me and told me that I had no idea what I was running into. Was I bringing a knife to a gunfight... except that I didn't have a knife on me?

The air was warm, and the moon was nearly full. I know how the moon looked, because the neighbor up in #10 on the second floor was yelling down to the victim to ask whether or not that were alright. Whatever had happened, had happened fast and was already over. A glance to the left revealed nothing. I glance to the right showed me a figure standing near the "t" junction at the south end of the alley. This person's back was to me, and was fairly motionless. Not a word was emitted. Yellow light bathed the scene from the mercury vapor sentinels above.

"What's going on!" I yelled. The figure slowly turned. It was a woman. Turns out she had been jumped. She was checking the contents of her purse. Much to her attackers chagrin, she still had all of her possessions. But that wasn't for lack of trying.

It turns out that some teenage kid on a bike came down the alley after her. She had just left Frank n' Stein and apparently came the long way down the alley. The kid punched her repeatedly in the face and demanded her purse. Evidently she didn't it cede it to him, and he took off after to ran up to Mike's back fence and try to get past his stairs. He took off on the bike. I have no idea how much I missed him by, but it couldn't been but a matter of seconds.

And that's why I'm pissed at myself.

My new fitness regimen demands that I jog before going to work. The last long block past Pierce Elementary is set aside for a sprint. I always visualize chasing down the "phone perp" I ran after a couple of years ago. I also bike a minimum of nine miles after work. So I jog, bike, and lift weights six days a week. Saturdays usually see me putting in extra mileage on the bike, and I put 25 miles in on it yesterday afternoon. I still have something of a gut to work off, but it's diminishing on a daily basis. The point is, if I ever need to break in to a Terminator run, I want to by in my physical prime to give my prey more than they bargained for.

And that's why I'm pissed at myself.

I feel like I should have been out the door sooner. I feel like I should have been out between the garages sooner. I hesitated, and they may have been just enough for this little puke to hightail it out of there. A woman just got punched in my alley, and I haven't road-burned juvenile to show for it.

I spoke with the woman as she was on hold with 911. I asked her to turn into the light some more so I could examine her face. She wasn't bleeding, and there was nothing immediately overt in the way of injuries - though I'm sure swelling was to arrive later on.

I kept repeating "let's get you inside", but she was unwilling to even move at first. It appeared that she was halfway in shock, and I'm sure she wasn't in a hurry to enter a strange person with a guy she just met in a dark alley moments after getting jumped. But I wanted to get her indoors, really for one reason - so I knew that she would be safe whilst I teared down the alley in the direction of the fleeing perp. Again I asked - again she declined.

My heart sank. I wasn't about to force her to do anything, but I certainly wanted to go after this dick. The best i could do was stand by her while she talked to the dispatcher, provide her with a street address and walk her back to the safety of her friends at the bar. After she was safely ensconced in the our local funeral-home-turned-year-round-Halloween-themed-karaoke bar, I ran down the street. I produced my jacket, my MagLite, jumped in Cthuhlu, and started patrolling the neighborhood.

MPD started to appear five minutes into my search. Initially, it was one marked squad cruising an alley nearby. I began to leap frog him and take the alley immediately to the east of him - just like driving animals to an ambush.

A cruise by Frank n' Stein revealed two unmarked squads that showed up after ten minutes. I clipped into the alley opposite from my apartment, only to have that aforementioned marked squad follow me in. I cleared out and headed towards Locust.

I went east for two blocks, then spotted a bicyclist close to the description I had been given heading west. I went past the traffic light at Fratney and banged a U-turn in the center of the road. An unmarked squad had been waiting for the light to change from the other way, and now had the green while I got the red. I can't tell if the police inside were confused by what I was doing, if they were listening to radio traffic, of eyeing up the same bike - but they weren't moving. Finally they realized the light was changing, and headed west. I followed. They broke off before seeing the bicyclist. I followed him.

Further examination led me to conclude that this was no teenager and he had not simply ditched a red hoody. It was now twenty minutes past the time of the original police call, and Cthulhu's on-board scanner finally picked up the game. MPD was now on the air with the description of the assailant, street location and other such vitals.

Great. 20 minutes later. The kid could have been in Shorewood by that point. But odds were that he wasn't, and my neck of the words was now crowded with at least five police cars looking for little red riding fuckhead. So I went west.

The city changes pretty quickly as you head past Riverwest's western edge a few blocks east. I began patrolling the street west of Humboldt, since it was clearly copless and usually is after something like that. I managed to run across bored kids, elderly men and a couple of questionable characters loitering in the alleys - but nothing came back as a match.

I went past my alley again and could see an unmarked car now sitting in the alley behind my building. I pulled around, parked and spoke with the officers and said hi to the woman again. I gave them what little information I had, and let one into the building so he could speak with the woman in 10. Turns out she saw the perp briefly. Her details matched what we already knew - but she had a description of the bike, something I tried to pull from the victim early on but she couldn't describe well.

Still, as of this posting, nothing to report. I'm sure that makes this entry anti-climatic, but it's quite indicative of the story. I'm just frustrated and have nothing to show. I keep having this vision of me getting out of the building quicker, seeing a kid trying to stand on the pedals of his BMX bike to make it go faster, and me just checking him into the concrete. Oh, it feels good in my head. Then I realize that he's still out there.

All in all, the woman didn't seem to get hurt too badly, and the perp left empty handed. MPD poured cops into the neighborhood, and hopefully they picked up enough information to be able to track the kid down. Still... ugg. It happened right outside. Ever since two of my friends got held up at gunpoint in front of the building, I've had something of a personal vow to come down like a town of bricks on the next delinquent dumb enough to try that shit around my building. And this one got away. Goddamnit.

Go MPD.

But hey... it's a nice night out. The police swarm has melted away, and the moon is full. Think I'll go take a bike ride.

YES!!!!

2008-08-23T00:58:00.002-05:00

Official: Obama picks Biden for veep

Nailed it! He's the perfect choice to counter McCain and balance Obama's soft touch. A Democratic hard-ass. Beautiful...

I've had an interest in Biden since he became vocal on the Bolton nomination back in 2005. I'm very excited about this choice, and goddamnit, you should be too.

Complex Shit, indeed

2008-08-13T10:50:00.004-05:00

The headline alone makes me cackle with 10-year old glee:

Giant dog turd wreaks havoc at Swiss museum

I get pissed when they use terms like "venti" too...

2008-08-08T08:46:00.005-05:00

I sincerely hope she was going through withdrawal.

Chicago cop suspended for demanding free Starbucks

Thu Aug 7, 11:35 PM ET

CHICAGO - A Chicago police officer has been suspended for 15 months for demanding free coffee and baked goods from six different Starbucks.

Officer Barbara Nevers, a 14-year veteran, has also been ordered to undergo counseling.

The Police Board ruled in May that 55-year-old Nevers intimidated Starbucks employees by screaming at them and flashing her badge, handcuffs or gun when they wanted her to pay. The board released its findings Thursday.

Nevers' attorney says her client never used her job to demand coffee. She says some coffeehouses gave it to her for free because she was an officer.

Look it it this way: at least they're not interrogating suspects using blow torches, a pair of pliers and the suspect's asshole any more. Oh, no. This is a newer, gentler CPD.

Flashing a gun for a cup of coffee.... what an amateur.

I'd go back the squad car and break out the shotgun.

Too much? You're right. I'd boot the tip jar instead.

Insomnia

2008-08-05T02:13:00.005-05:00

"It seems that all men
get into a car and go
Anywhere"

It's 2:15 in the morning.

I just woke from a deep sleep. I recall being waste-deep in a dream, and suddenly being shaken out of it by a noise. My first thoughts tell me that someone may be right outside my first floor window, trying to break into the bedroom via the milewide porthole I've provided by shoving box fan in it to cool the air.

A perfunctory glance indicated that no one is outside, and I'm simply being jumpy. This neighborhood will do that to you.

I should just go back to sleep, but I can't. You see, I went to bed around 8:00. I hadn't left work until about 6:00, so my evening consisted of eating some leftovers and looking at shit on the internet before I tired enough to crash early. Not a heroic evening, and by no means not what I set out to accomplish.

Perhaps I'm still just godawful tied from my trip to Portland. being crammed into two small jets for a total of seven hours and getting very little sleep before that would most likely contribute to my early naptime.

But it's more than that.I work yet another job at a small company in Milwaukee. The pace is fast, the hours longer than advertised, and the stress palpable. I work in a building without any windows. Maybe that doesn't matter to some people, but it drives me nuts. I'm accustomed to noticing the seasons given my upbringing working on swimming pools with the family business. To not the sun truly bothers me these days.

And there's not much more sun to be had. I blinked, and March melted into August. Soon we'll be meteorlogically sodomized by another Wisconsin winter, and the sun blotted from the sky for a good four months. This I do not relish.

I think of this. I put on my pants and boots and walk outside of the building. I took up the resident management gig last fall, so I feel obligated to walk the grounds and look for my phantom windowjacker.

No one there.

The streets of Riverwest are shockingly silent. No sirens. No drunks. No mysterious men walking the streets. No punks stumbling to their punk house, replete with car that has the word "punx" spraypainted on the side of it. It's quite, and it occurs to me that this is not normal.

I do not have to wander the grounds and protect the residents from a possible burglar. I do not have to stop an idiot with a shovel from smashing through the entry door. I don't have to run towards a woman screaming into the night, nor must I run towards the back to stop a mugging in process. Children with guns do not have to be confronted. A bar fight does not need to be split up. A kid stealing a portable phone from a shopkeeper that tells me he's store has "been robbed" is not running down the alleys from me. The night is, for once, silent in Riverwest.

Have the Block Watches worked? Has the neighborhood association succeeded? Did my crazy, lovable neighbors do it by putting on a 24 hour bike race? Have I done it by wandering the alleys in a Batman-esque fashion? Did my little self defense class turn a ripple into a wave? Has my Citizen Police Academy course sufficiently underscored how the dynamic on the ground has irrevocably changed?

Am I.... am I done here? Is it over?

The air wants to be hotter than it is, and one can feel the battle between a muggy summer and crisp fall duking it out around them. Fall will win, in spit of summer's protestations. It is all but inevitable.

I look to the sky, and see lazy clouds illuminated by the yellow city lights hang over the city, evidently in no particular hurry to leave.

Suddenly, I am in a hurry to leave.

I see my car parked on the street. It's the same DPW doppleganger I've driven since college. It's been abused, and it's becoming increasingly questionable what the range of my once trusted Cthulhu is nowadays. Still... I can't help but wonder how far it could make it.

I could jump into it right now.

Portland.
Seattle.
New York.
Half a dozen other cities.

I could go anywhere. I could walk away from yet another pell-mell Milwaukee job, leave a bunch of crap in my apartment and just go. I could just go.

I realize how, for once, I think of Sofya infrequently. I realize that I dreamt about my deceased college mentor the other night. I realize how my talent is being squandered at yet another stupid job, and how I arrived at 29 with little recollection of how I got here so fast. I realize that I've seen all this city has to offer.

Don't get me wrong. I love Milwaukee.

Like any good family, Milwaukee, has provided me with what I needed to learn, despite those lessons not always being pleasant. It has truly chiseled me into the man I am today.

I know now that I can fight - metaphorically and literally. I know now that I can take on responsibilities. I have a far greater understanding of myself and a vision of what I want to do that is grounded with a knowledge of the path I must tread to do it.

But like all families and offspring go, there comes to a time to leave. This family has nurtured me to a reluctant maturity, and I dread the thought of overstaying my visit. best to leave the family now, before I turn into the 37 year old that dwells in his mother's basement. Though true that I've made declaration similar to this in the best, this city would not relinquish me until such time as it's lessons were absorbed.

I'll always love this city, but it's time to go. I long for a backdrop that inspired me, and kiddies, this ain't it. I've explored all that I want to explore, and inquisitive stagnation is upon me.

It's time to pack it up. It's time to move on.

It's 2:45 in the morning, and I am wide awake.

Wow. Did that suck...

2008-07-21T16:32:00.003-05:00

How much does a steel rim from a car weigh? How much does it weigh with an inflated tire mounted to it?

And how much fun is it to carry that fucker six miles? Over decimated city streets, by the capitol, through farmlands, over barbed wire, through marshes and the side of a busy freeway?

Answer: I now have holes in my boots.

To be fair, this was predicament was easily preventable. But in another sense, it wasn't at all.

This hyperbole makes sense only to me, I'm sure. But I've got to say... time's up.

Say it ain't so

2008-06-23T07:48:00.002-05:00

George Carlin mourned as a counterculture hero

This gets to me a bit. I can't say that I'm surprised. His last primetime special screamed that he was ready to depart. The fixation on death, suicide. Foremost in my mind was his emphasis on attacking the power structure of America. It seemed like he was saying "this is what you fuckers have to take aim at, okay?". It wasn't as strong as his previous work... he hadn't finessed it, clearly because it was more important to get the message out than polish it to a shine:

Damnit.

George Carlin had a sizable impact on my outlook on life, as odd as that may sound. To my way of thinking, all decent comics challenged your core beliefs with the best tool available - humor. A joke has the ability to penetrate the stubborn far better than any brilliant argument. George was able armor-piercing, yet legitimately funny.

One value that is often overlooked as critical in our society is satire. The ability to lampoon those in charge has kept us this country on course, even trhough our darkest moments. Think of something as silly as the Daily Show and it's impact on the way we've perceived the last seven years. Good comics don't just tell jokes - they inform the countr-culture and dispence a philosphy.

Most importantly, the act as iconoclasts. With deft reasoning, the guide us to think critically without realizing that we're working to do so. And last I check, critical thinking is something this country is in short supply of from time to time.

Lenny Bruce.
Bill Hicks.
George Carlin.

American heroes, ladies and gentlemen.

Rest in peace, George. We've got it from here.

I've been meaning to put a hole in that

2008-04-29T22:30:00.007-05:00

Mr. Plow claimed to have been drinking with one of my tenants earlier in the evening (I manage the building in which I reside). He was under the impression that he had been spending the night at their place, but wasn't sure since he had blacked out. Allegedly, he somehow became locked out of the apartment. His claim was substantiated somewhat by his lack of shoes.

It was now 3:30 on Sunday morning.

Ringing the doorbell failed to get the tenant's attention. Calling their phone was to no avail. After a few minutes of zero response on the tenant's part, he did what any rational person would do. He tried to smash his way through the front door glass with a snow shovel he found nearby.

Sure, he may have even taken a pass at the glass with his forehead preceding the tool-wielding. His brow looked as though he had tried to headbutt something. I heard a large thud five minutes prior to the shovel symphony. This is mere speculation, mind you.

Regardless of how this started, I awoke to several loud thuds. A glimpse out of my peephole revealed a fisheye look at a large man pacing the looby and complaining loudly to the door. I threw on my pants, combat boots and leather jacket.

I charged down the hallway with a MagLite. I'm not small - 6'2" and probably 240 pounds. And I have something of a temper, from time to time. That combination proved sufficient to stop him in his tracks.

Instead of espousing an angry litany new and bold curse word combinations, I chose not to speak. This gave him time to trip over himself and try to explain what was going on. I chose not to go ballistic on him and tried reasoning instead. I calmed down and asked if he was alright. I tried to ascertain what had happened and tried to be as non-confrontational as possible. In the past, I've been a bit more.... aggressive... but this proved far more effective.

Despite committing what was clearly an act of rage moments earlier, this fellow became lucid and even polite. He offered to write a check on the spot for the damages, while simultaneously stating that he could "neither confirm nor deny" that he was the one trying to break into the building.

He asked to be permitted inside so he could speak with the tenant. I refused outright, and ordered him to remain outside of the outer entry door. He cooperated, and remained on the front step while I tried to summon the tenant in question.

The tenant did not answer. I could see our guest pacing around outside trying to call her on his cell phone. A cell phone rang persistently inside of the unit in question, yet no one stirred.

I had a man that had black out and tried to break down our front door with a blunt object, and an unresponsive tenant. I assumed the worst and dialed 911. I looked back, and Mr. Plow was now absent from the front stoop.

I describe in detail what occurred to the dispatcher, then preceded to wait outside for a squad.

I was likely outside for all of a minute - literally 60 seconds or less - before I heard a blood curdling scream of "HELP!". Luckily, the woman in danger screamed again "SOMEBODY HELP ME!!", and I was able to get a fix on the direction from whence the cries came. I rushed towards them without hesitation.

I ran across the street and tore across a neighbors lawn (sorry John). I sprinted across the alley, between some houses, and came to a standstill in the center of Booth Street.

I've heard people describe terrible situations as "nightmares" before, and I had shrugged that analogy as of a cliché. No longer. It's apt under the right circumstances. There I stood, in the middle of softly lit and empty street. The cool wind rushed past me, and I heard nothing. Precisely nothing. Bupkiss. Dick. Squat.

It was dreamlike. Unpleasantly dreamlike. One recalls waking nightmares, where paralysis grips the body, and all attempts to move or shout are stifled. This was as close to a nightmare as I could conjure whilst being awake.

So I yelled back. I called out to her. I wanted desperately for her to respond. Something. Anything. Any kind of sound. I needed an indication of precisely where she was if I was going to save her.

I heard nothing. I was terrified.

Her voice did not pierce the night sky a third time. I repeated my bellowing, if for no other reason than to let whomever was assaulting her to know that help - oh yes, big man help - was on the way.

Still no response.

My heart sank. Something was happening to an innocent person, and I was powerless to stop it. I cannot adequately describe what that feels like.

I ran up to Center Street, hoping to see something. Anything.

A van was heading down the street towards me - a Milwaukee Police van. I flagged it down. The passenger rolled down her window, and I breathlessly inquired if they heard the scream. Of course they hadn't - they were in a van. I then asked whether or not they were responding to a call regarding it. Neither officer knew what I was talking about.

To be fair, why would they have? It had happened a mere minute of two before they appeared. To me, it seemed as if twenty minutes had passed. I didn't understand this at the time, and was greeted by blank or inquisitive looks. "We're responding to something else in progress".

My amped up little mind couldn't process that. Didn't they know a woman was in danger? I somewhat angrily motioned them to go onward. "Fine! Go do whatever you were doing..." They drove on, most likely irritated by demeanor and a little puzzled.

I continued to run up Center in the opposite direction. I could see two people outside of an apartment building off of Holton and Center. I ran towards them in the hopes that they too heard the screams. Indeed they had.

They stood by an entryway to the building. Inside was a stairwell, in which six more people huddled, apparently trying to calm one girl down. Here she was. Here was the woman that screamed for help.

I asked one of her friends if she was alright. He confirmed that she was, just rattled. There didn't seem to be a clear consensus on what had transpired. Whatever the case was, she was intact and being tended to by many people. Mercifully, she was not alone. I was thanked for my attentiveness, and I went on my way.

I ran back to the building. Lest I had forgotten, some Jack Nicholson impersonator had tried to smash his way into my building. I moved as fast as my legs could carry me.

I arrived on my street. Mr. Plow was still nowhere to be seen, but I could see uniforms milling about in the lobby of my building. I approached the door, now out of breath, and greeted the police officers.

The same ones I had just waved off two minutes earlier.

Awesome.

2008-03-29T09:41:00.003-05:00

Man Claims He Was Molested by Bigfoot

I wonder what the police questioning was like.

"Sooooooo... what were you wearing when this happened?

Slacks, huh? And loafers? Kinda slutty, doncha think?

Idunno. If I'm a sasquatch, and I see you come walkin' into the forest like that, I'd be thinking that ya want it, ya know?"

"Undiagnosed and Treatable"

2008-03-27T22:39:00.006-05:00

Faith, medicine collide, and a young girl dies

Parents chose to pray rather than get medical help for sick child

The gist of the story above is how a Wausau area family declined to seek medical attention for their 11 year old daughter, Madeline. Instead , they presumed that the power of prayer would heal her. I urge you to read the article above and form your own conclusion before wading into the vitriolic morass that follows...

According to the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, this family was a fan of doomsday prophecy. One must wonder how that shades an individual's perception.

Rather than check in with a hospital the night before this poor girl's death, Madeline's parents were in touch with the founder of an apocalyptic website. According to David Eells, founder of AmericasLastDays.com, he was requested to speak with the family on Saturday."They did not seem overly concerned because they had had healings before. This is not an unusual kind of request to us."

An earlier article quotes the Everest police chief remarking "...they aren't crazy people". I'd concur. They're batshit loco.

The police captain of Maybury also had this to say: "At what point do religious beliefs take over for medical help? And the flip of the coin is at what point are the parents responsible for the health and welfare of their children," he said. "These people truly believed their prayer and faith would heal their daughter. They have no question about that."

At what point are parents responsible for the health and welfare of their children? Is there a threshold? I thought that was the point of being a parent. This is neglect born of fantasy -prone personalities, not a rational decision based on poor Madeline's well being.

Eells also had this to say: "As anyone here in the ministry will tell you, we are not against doctors for those who have their faith there and never condemn or restrict them in any way. But we know that the best one to trust in for healing is Jesus Christ."

Nice cop out. And oh, yes - Jesus is an absolutely brilliant doctor. Top notch work there, JC M.D.

I apologize if my comedic cracks make light of the situation, because I don't wish to mitigate the tragedy of all this. I'm sure some will construe my writing as callous or shrill - but that's the way I am, so that's how it comes out. A life was lost that did not have to be. This story drives me up the wall.

We had an autistic child die at the hands of a faith healer just a few years back in Milwaukee. I'd at least expect the local media to have a bit of venom when pursuing this story. Instead, the tone seems to a be "shucks, what to do when deciding between medicine and faith?" Positively maddening.

I can only hope that this story underscores the risk of placing beliefs before the well being of a child. And to be clear, this transcends the realm of faith - parents that decline to have their children vaccinated predicated upon opinion similarly demonstrate poor judgement.

Bottom line: believe what you wish, but don't endanger those in your care with those beliefs.

Outro to Emo

2008-02-20T10:45:00.004-06:00

I left college years ago in a state of decline and uncertainty. At the time, I posted a blog containing only the lyrics of a Ben Folds Five song to express how I felt. At the time, I thought it an apt summary of how my love life had crashed and burned. Only after the fact do I grasp that it was never about the girl - life had swung around on me, and I was overwhelmed.

Once again I've managed to reach a turning point. I finally possess the wisdom and the tools to set right many of the elements of my life that had withered during this period. In essence, I can finish what I had started.

At least that's the spirit behind this new era. Unfortunately, not all things can be repaired at this point, as I well expected. Such is life. To appropriate the old Stones line, "you can't always get what you want, but sometimes you get what you need".

Throughout my life, I've always measured where I was with some sort of melancholy desire for elements of the past. the net result has been an inability to clearly divine where I was at, given that it's very difficult to move forward while constantly looking backward. Lesson learned. I've never been able to learn the easy way. Sometimes I regret this fact, but ultimately, I've learned so much more about myself and existence in general than I would have if I had just listened to people smarter than myself.

So I'll close this chapter of my life on the same note on which I entered - with an emo post containing song lyrics from a band long defunct:

There was a time when I had nothing to explain
oh, this mess I have made
but then things got complicated
my innocence has all but faded
oh, this mess I have made

and I don't believe in god
so I can't be saved
all alone as I've learned to be
in this mess I have made

all the untested virtue
the things I said I'd never do
least of all to you
I know he's kind and true
I know that he is good to you
he'll never care for you more than I do

but I don't believe in love
and I can't be changed
all alone as I've learned to be
in this mess
i have made the same mistakes
over and over again

there are rooms in this house that I don't open anymore
dusty books of pictures on the floor
that she will never see
she'll never see that part of me
I want to be for her
what I could never be for you

but I don't believe in god
so I can't be saved
all alone as I've learned to be
in this mess I have made

I probably haven't gotten all of this out of my system, but all the pining and introspection in the world couldn't possibly accomplish what bold, decisive action will. Less talk, more walk. Pick your analogy. Time for the sensitive artist to do some fucking work.

Groschopf - Geeking Out

2007-11-16T12:37:00.000-06:00

There's been rumbling of a Ghostbusters game for about a year now. We received word over the summer that Dan Akroyd was verifying rumors and laying out the game as GB3. Ernie Hudson let more slip a month ago and made reference to ALL of the original cast joining forces again. This sounded hopeful but maybe unlikely, since Bill Murray didn't want much to do with the franchise.

Evidently voicing the CGI Garfield has softened him up:
Ghostbusters - The Video Game verifies all of my little dork hopes.

I've been all over Ghostbusters fansites for a steady 48 hours now, and I'm sufficiently excited past believe.

Here's a gem from the upcoming issue of Game Informer magazine:

"Sierra also found that the Ghostbusters logo is the second most recognized logo in the world - the first being Coca-Cola."

Does this mean that I have international appeal?

EDIT: I guess so: the BBC picked up the story...

File Under "Duh"....

2007-10-20T03:14:00.000-05:00

Peanuts creator Schulz led secret life of misery

Really?

The guy that depicted his hero as being unable to kick the football or get the little redheaded girl was "lonely, misunderstood and unhappy"?

Nooooo.........

Really. How is the utter pathos of Peanuts not obvious to anyone? I have a fond place in my heart for the characters, but it always struck me as obvious that Charlie Brown was merely an extension of Charles Schulz

Maybe that's easy for a guy that has a comic counterpart who lives inside of his own head and resides in a feature called "Counter-Productive", but honestly - how is not obvious in the case of Charlie Brown? Projection.

That's why I came to revere the world of Chuck and Snoopy more than other comics. It felt more genuine. On a page awash with aging relics of a bygone era and comics penned by college interns long after the creator had died, Peanuts felt surprisingly honest. It wasn't always cheery, but it didn't try to bullshit me either.

Even the inking of the final years of the Peanuts strip spoke of immense truth - the lines became shakier with Schulz's declining motor function. You could see the man's psyche unfold through his characters, and it was compounded by the visible signs of his physical deterioration.

It wasn't slick like strips that are drawn by other parties but still "signed" by the original, living artist (*cough* Garfield *cough* Paws Incorporated*). Chuck went down with his ship. Despite how much merchandising and selling out of the strip was involved - and make no mistake, it was a cash cow - somehow it was always "real".

I aspire to to give the world something akin. I want to give the world something honest, but beautiful. It's too much to hope to be the next Charles Schulz, but damnit... why aim for anything less?

At the end of the day, it's less important to be a commercial artist and vastly more important to be an artist. The job of any decent comic is to make people laugh, but also to impart upon them some level of truth.

THE TERRORISTS SURRENDER!!!

2007-09-19T12:40:00.000-05:00

Nestled in the quiet Wisconsin town of Sheboygan is a behmeoth. This monster stands at 338 feet tall and 120 feet long.

What is this freak of nature? It's the American flag.

Note that the little gray speck on the ground and to the right of the pole is my car.

Not just any American flag, mind you, but the world's largest American flag. Take that, Osama bin Fuckhead!

The flagpole stands so tall that it has a goddamned strobe light on top to ward off wayward aircraft - presumably drawn to the brilliant luminensce eminating from this beacon of freedom.

Let's hope eagles don't have epilespy

The flagpole stands as tall as a small skyscraper. The flag itself is as long as a football field is wide. Finally - a symbol that accurately represents bovine America. Eat another Baconator, tubby!

Freedom, with bacon

You may detect a hint of sarcasm in this blog. Perhaps even, dare I say, contempt? Is it because I hate freedom? Almost certainly. If by freedom you mean totally unnecessary displays of patriotism explicitly designed as an advertising tool.

Perhaps I didn't explain. You see, it wasn't an American Legion post or Chamber of Commerce that decided to erect something so ludicrous. Even they understand that the flag is a symbol - the embodiment of ideas. The size of the symbol is irrelevant if what you want to construe are the concept of liberty and equal justice for all that dwell within our borders.

No, the only kind of fuckwits that use the flag like a corporate logo are, well, FUCKWITS. In this case, corporate fuckwits. Did you feel the earth shatter with that revelation?

The flag stands on the grounds of the Acuity corporate headquarters. Acuity is an insurance company, so you know that everything they do is on the up and up.

Since, I've created a litany of well-placed outrage framed by sentimental hyperbole, let me be crystal clear: Acuity is using this to promote themselves.

This is not being used to promote freedom.
This is not being used to promote our common values.
This is not an act of patriotism.

This is being used as a way of saying to Joe Consumer "look- we're Americans too! The kind of Americans that see patriotism and identifying with state power as one in the same. We're the GOOD Americans! Wink, nod, thumbs up."

The work of the virtuous

A behavioralist will often ignore what a person says verbally and, instead, observe the behavior in order to construe what a persons true intentions are. What does Acuity's site say about their display of patriotism? Their name is highlighted time and time again... could it be they did this to draw attention to themselves? Of course it is. By extension, would they erect the world's largest American flag to further enhance their visibilty? I love rhetorical questions too.

There is no in hell a bean-counting insurance company like Acuity embarked upon the construction of this display without having the bottom line in mind. At the end of the day, they likely presumed that they could use this flag to pull in new customers and shore up their upstanding citizen street cred. "An insurance company wouldn't deny my claim... not if they're draped in a FLAG! And especially not if that flag weighed 300 fucking pounds!"

I call bullshit.

When your flag is so outlandlishly large that it should be accompanied by a loudspeaker blaring the Scorpions "Rocked You Like A Hurricane" every hour on the hour, your gesture is less than genuine.

Acuity had better hope that State Farm doesn't construct the world's largest magnetic ribbon in response.

Drawn to scale

"Cheap Thrills" on the radio

2007-09-18T11:06:00.000-05:00

Tea Krulos and Chris Miller represented a gaggle of Milwaukee cartoonists on Wisconsin Public Radio this morning. They represented our collective show at UW-GB entitled Cheap Thrills.

The piece in question aired this morning on Morning edition, and starts at 1:33:58. I'm unsure whether or not you have to be a public radio supporter to listen.

EDIT
Dave has successfully isolated the pertinent three minute portion of the show and made it available here.

Many thanks to the very British Dr. Stephen Perkins for executing this show and to Tea for arranging it.

Dave and I had our Gonzalez piece mentioned, unfortunately Dave was not specifically named. Much to my amazement, she pronounced my last name correctly.

I'll post some pictures from the show tonight, along with a trip to the world's most absurdly-sized American flag and our harrowing experience at the hands of Green Bay's finest.

To quote David Beyer Jr , "COMICS!"

Seattle - you're next

2007-09-10T14:34:00.000-05:00

Did you know that I have a mailing address in Seattle? It's true. If you feel like testing the efficacy of the United States Postal Service, drop me a line at P.O. Box 20232, Seattle WA 98102.

Remember, the Postal Service prohibitsthe mailing of matches, fuels or gasonline, dry ice and "Thank You bombs"

Hell - I'll personally check the postal box in a couple of weeks. I'll be conducting a reconnaissance mission in Seattle from near the end of the month.
Be advised.

On a related note, comic syndicates - you'll be hearing from us real soon. Boom-shacka-lacka.

I've neglected to mention...

2007-09-10T08:32:00.000-05:00

Two different Counter-Productive strips are available in print form in the current issues of Riverwest Currents and the Shepherd Express.

CP-Comics.com still down - CP-Comics.org going up

2007-09-05T07:27:00.000-05:00

My host has for all practical purposes ceased to exist. This really couldn't happen at a much worse time, considering all of the e-mail I dispatched yesterday that linked to work on my server AND the fact that Counter-Productive just busted back into print this week. Now that pretty little URL will point at nothingness. I find myself compulsively checking CP-Comics.com, but the server had yet to resurface.

I've signed up with GoDaddy.com and initiated a domain transfer - trouble is, I need an authorization code from Jatol.com to complete the process. How am I supposed to get a code from a host that no longer exists? I'm open to suggestions.

In the meantime, I've picked up CP-Comics.org and dumped a version of the Counter-Productive website on there. I say a version, because it wasn't yet fully functional when it was on the other server. Still, an online presence still exists, and I can re-aim some of my work links to the new server.

For any of you wondering why I'm not returning e-mails, I can be reached at groschopf at gmail.com or groschopf at CP-Comics.org.

A quick note on CP-Comics.com...

2007-09-04T17:48:00.000-05:00

Need... to maim... rising.....

It appears that Counter-Productive's host, Jatol, has gone kapputt. CP-Comics.com currently does not exist, taking with it my e-mail and portfolio links.

I'm working diligently to resolve this issue and transfer the domain over to GoDaddy.com, but I'm being held up due to a lack of an authorization code from my current registrar - the ceased-to-exist Jatol.

So if you're trying to contact me, use the generic "groschopf" account at Gmail.com. That's the best I can do at the moment.

Otherwise, I'm still quite reachable through MySpace.com and Facebook as well.

Bye Bye, Torture Guy!

2007-08-27T10:02:00.001-05:00

Alberto Gonzalez resigned.

Did you ever see "Half Baked"? There's a scene where Scarface resigns as clerk at a fast food joint, gets on the order mic and says "fuck you, fuck you, you're cool, fuck you..." and walks outs.

(there should be a YouTube video below, but their site is very slow today - hit reload or wait a bit)

Do you suppose Gonzalez wanted to do something similar to the Congress?

Mr. Bill's Mild Ride

2007-08-22T21:13:00.000-05:00

I'm surprised that this made the news. Granted, it involves Bill Murray. Yet, at it's core, it's a tale of an old white guy driving a golf cart after having a couple of drinks. La dee da.

Perhaps Bill has lost his comedic edge since doing more cerebreal work the likes of Lost in Translation and Broken Flowers. Like both of those films, the premise here is interesting and the story beautifully executed - and I still walk a way wishing it were just a bit funnier.

The redeeming feature of this story is where Bill was going - a "trendy Cafe Opera nightclub". Bill gets points if he drove the golf cart while wearing a tux, rolled up to some red carpet nightclub and had the cart valet parked.

A ring-a-ding-ding.

In honor of Bill's caper,
The Perfect Crime #2
by The Decemberists

from The Crane Wife

Rants - as adverstised

2007-07-28T11:47:00.000-05:00

And now for couple of questions and observations...

1. Why does the new Joker look like the Crow after St Patrick's Day binge?

2. I'm addicted the BBC's new Doctor Who (at times, in spite of myself). Now it appears that Canadian television will be receiving another program that I will quickly become stuck on:

My question is as follows; can we invade other countries for superior television programming? Odds are it would be better for us on the whole than learning of IED casualties or watching another fucking episode of Last Comic Standing.

3. This is too soon, I'm sure, but... was this...

.... really worth the footage to provide to the Fox Network's World's Scariest Police Chases?

And before I get a barrage of comments blasting me as callous and saying things unconscionable, let me remind you: this shit WILL end up as footage on World's Scariest Police Chases. Not the chase - the helicopter collision itself.

So what's more ghoulish?
•Me, commenting on the tragic death of four network news employees?
•Four network news employees chasing after the human tragedy below them with such disregard to their safety that they became the news, thus giving the mindless masses some "awesome" footage that will be looped over and fucking over again while news presenters comment on how tragic it is, yet show it repeatedly?
*or*
•That this footage will be set to a soundtrack with a breathless movie-trailer0esque voiceover purporting how "...just then, tragedy struck..." an used as a picture in a picture on a Fox TV special?

4. "Did officials now that astronauts were drunk?"

Really? From the same place that brought me Major Tom in Pampers trying stomp on a romantic rival like Super Mario on a waddling mushroom?

Noooo..... unthinkable, I say!

But, in NASA's defense, you'd hit the bottle too if you were getting slapped with the budget constraints that the Bush Administration is doling out like deep dickings in the Catholic Church.

Let's see... what else is pissing me off today.

OH!

5. Fucking shows about demonology ON THE SCIENCE CHANNEL. Shit - I watched the tail end of a show in which a team of "ghost hunters" allegedly clears a house of demonic activity in California.

The show was edited as a very mater-of-fact piece, and had the "investigators" explaining how they had to get permission from the church to perform these rites, and use one of those overblown incense burners from church to smoke that demon out of the house. FOR REAL. Why not just say that you're an exterminator, explain to the lady that she's got a satan infestation, and you have to tent and spray the premises? That's how fucking stupid this concept is.

What? Demons, supposed sentient beings and children of the devil himself can be one-upped up by repeating words (do they speak English in hell?) and running around with patchouli? You've got a weak seed, Bezelbub.

But that's not what's chapping my ass here - the SCIENCE Channel presented this over-produced piece of Unsolved Mysteries after birth as SCIENCE.

Let's be clear here - IT IS NOT.

Fuck, no wonder we have so many dumbasses running around this country.

A bit of skepticism would reveal in no time flat that these people were influenced by the power of suggestion, which was then reinforced by these fantasy-prone assholes who came to bust ghosts.

You want to know why I know this?

BECAUSE I USED TO DO IT!

Please allow Dave a moment to revel in the irony.

I'm here to say - houses aren't haunted, people are. I wanted to believe that they were ghosts and UFOs running around, but you know what? We invented it. people. It's a product of our imaginations, and I love it. Hell, go back to the top of this blog and watch the trailer for that demonic sitcom. I love this crap! But it's not "science".

Follow the inquiry to it's logical conclusion. What makes more sense: a demon from hell has for some reason decided to shack up in a closet in suburbia? Or someone is hearing a hastily constructed track house expand and contract at night, thus explaining the slew of awful house settling noises they heard?

Why jump immediately to unearthly conclusion for something that can be explained away with just a bit of scrutiny?

This wouldn't even piss me off this much if it wasn't for the sensationalized special effects inserted into the program or the fact that is one of THE SCIENCE CHANNEL!! But why should I be that surprised?

After all, this country is home to a "museum" that depicts dinosaurs with saddles as science. Some don't want to see the correlation, but when this shit doesn't get laughed off as the joke that it is by the American public, we have a serious education problem in this country.

Maybe I should just start a new column entitled "the Angry Ghostbuster" and just get it over with.

Now, if you'll excuse, I'm going to go listen the The Skeptics' Guide to the Universe and cleanse my mind of all this garbage.

Ahhh... sweet, sweet mental Antiseptic.

R.I.P. Kronos

2007-07-23T10:06:00.001-05:00

So long, Big Guy.

*For those of you that never met Kronos, that's a bowling ball that he's carrying.
With his teeth.
For real.

*

You're good people, ya' big dork.

Currently listening to:
Happiness Is
By Vince Guaraldi

The Charlie Brown Suite

Quote o' the day

2007-05-23T17:44:00.000-05:00

"But I also talk about going to Chinatown and seeing duck vaginas in a big barrel and being afraid to eat one, because I don't want to find out that I love duck vaginas and I gotta have them, and at 4 o'clock in the morning, I'm having a craving for duck vaginas, and Chinatown's closed, so I have to go to a dark park with a knife."

-Louis C.K., from his Onion interview

On a different note, I suspect that my days in Milwaukee are numbered. Don't get me wrong -- there are many things I love about this city, not the least of which are the friends I've made. I love you guys and it would cause me great distress to leave you. I suspect that there is no one equitable to you.

But I get the sense that a move is now inevitable, as it was my plan when I originally left college, and I'd be remiss if I didn't follow through. Now I'm looking west, and thinking of bugging Lucien in Seattle. I'm currently debating a reconniassance trip in June, versus saving the money I'd used for a flight and simply applying it to a security deposit out west.

Ultimately, I don't feel my creative mojo gets what it needs in Milwaukee. I'm not inspired. That could be due to a number of factors, not the least of which is the mental geography I've attached to the city. Moving would be the equivalent of hitting the reset button, especially moving somewhere totally unknown. My greatest development has occurred when I've plodded forth into the unknown. I think it's time to build upon that.

Besides - the job market for design gigs in this town sucks.

"God, Jason, I'm looking forward to feeling your warm breath at the nape of
my neck again. My nipples are erect just thinking about it."

-Lucien, creeping me out, yet somehow exciting me.

By the Power of Greyskull...

2007-04-23T12:41:00.000-05:00

Go see Hot Fuzz.

Fucking. Brilliant.

On a crime-related theme, dig this article from the Guardian:

"The plan to spring Timothy Rouse from jail must have seemed like a long shot. The 19-year-old had been assessed by the US authorities as highly dangerous. The prison, in La Grange, Kentucky, was suitably secure.

It was therefore the optimist among Rouse's associates who had the simple idea of faxing the prison authorities from a local grocery store with bogus instructions that "demanded" he be released. Only an optimist might have believed officials would free their friend on the basis of an absurdly fabricated decree from the state's highest court: a document with no letterhead and one littered with spelling and grammatical mistakes.

Rouse, who was held on charges of burglary, robbery, theft and assault, walked from jail and was not recaptured for another fortnight; the time it took the authorities to realise their mistake. Hardly a criminal mastermind, he was staying at his mother's house when eight police officers arrived.
As the authorities began an investigation to find out who faxed the letter, officials demanded to know how security was breached so easily. "It's outrageous that it happened," Fulton County attorney Rick Major said. "I'm just glad nobody got hurt because he's dangerous."

Prison officials concede that the faked letter did bear the fax mark of a grocery store but said no one would have noticed because security policies do not require the sources of faxes to be traced. Greg Taylor, the facility's director, said: "It's not part of a routine check, but certainly, in hindsight, that would perhaps have caused somebody to ask a question."

He said the letter itself would not automatically arouse suspicion because misspelling was commonplace in court documents. Carlos Moran, who is representing Rouse, declined to comment.

Though aided by secure buildings and the latest technology, prison authorities around the world still find themselves vulnerable to schemes devised by ingenious prisoners. Australian officials were forced to launch a manhunt last year for Robert Cole, a maximum-security prisoner who by dint of abstinence and laxatives slimmed down from 70kg (about 11st) to 54kg (8st 8lb) and then squeezed through a crack he had chiselled through a wall using a butter knife.

Last year Bosnian robber Muradif Hasanbegovic, 36, constructed a parcel and mailed himself out of Karlau jail in Austria. He has not been seen since."

Everyone take note. You can escape jail by way of Pick n' Save, diarrhea or UPS.

Currently listening to:
Golden Skans
By Klaxons

Myths of the Near Future

Evolution

2007-03-24T23:07:00.000-05:00

Man... we've come a long way.

2001

2007

The blogs have also changed slightly, though for better or worse I can't say. I almost like the unstable look of the early ones better.

In case you missed it the first time around....

2007-03-15T23:32:00.000-05:00

The wheels are slowly turning as Counter-productive lurches back to a fully intergrated web presence. Many steps are involved, not the least of which involves re-tooling my process and archiving the old strips.

In the meantime, I've finally posted the only C-P related video in exsistence on the YouTubes:

When Good Nerds Go Bad

2007-03-13T22:19:00.000-05:00

Thought I'd share this bit of message board madness.

I recently trolled through a message board for Ghostbusters fans. Believe it or not, it's not something I do with regularity. I usually don't care to get into arguments about a character's height or the precise measurements of obscure prop parts. I can count on both hands how many times I've posted something in the last five years.

I'm not claiming that I'm not a nerd. I am so a nerd. I'm just not the message board kind of nerd. I've got better things to do with my time. Like watching videos of cats falling off of couches on YouTube. Oh ho! Have you seen those? Like, those cats TOTALLY fall off of couches. Comedy gold!

Anyways, back to topic at hand. In this particular case, I went searching for a thread on where to find videos of the old Ghostbusters cartoons. I was minding my own business when I stumbled upon this : ghostbusters theme wedding

This looked bad. This looked very, very bad. A fellow geek was perhaps on the way to the emergency room for proposing this to his understandably bewildered wife. Perhaps he hadn't brought up the idea yet? Perhaps it was a hypothetical? I took action in the hopes of saving a very nerdy life.

It turned that it WAS a hypothetical. The idea consisted of the Bride and the Groom playing the parts of the possessed Vinz Clortho and Zuul. You get the idea. Something of this nature was never meant to leave the drawing board.

This is what it sounds like when the vaginas cry

What follows is my desperate plea in a world gone mad:

Wouldn't that kind of miss the point? Weddings are really all about the Bride.

Whens the last time you heard some Groom utter the the words "you guys-- I'm seriously excited about my wedding! There will be cake, and frilly place mats and matching outfits! OHH!! And dancing! I love dancing! I'm totally psyched!"

Never.

And the moment you'd try to spring the whole Ghostbuster scenario on your Bride-to-be's Barbie fantasy she'd give you a vasectomy with a broken neutrona wand.

Just saying. Brides are EXTREMELY partial to their weddings. You'd be lucky if you could pull off a Ghostbusters-themed bachelor party. Now THAT I would ponder. Sure, it would be tacky, but think of the possibilities. Ever have a lap dance from an ancient Sumerian Goddess? Why do think Gozer the Gozerian had high heels? She's an interdimensional stripper, breaking hearts and destroying civilizations.

But if you do find that one rare specimen of woman that would agree to a Ghostbuster wedding, don't announce it here. Hide her in a vault until after you've consummated the entire affair. It's the only sure way to prevent a van full of guys wielding ecto-goggles and arm pads from rolling up to your abode and trying to stuff her in to a ghost trap.

This truly is territory better left uncharted.

Analog

2007-03-04T23:01:00.000-06:00

I've reverted to doing the strips laid out in full on Bristol board. The previous method of drawing characters separately on a million different sketchbook pages, inking on mylar and piecing everything together just wasn't working.

The inks looked good on the mylar -- I used that method so I wouldn't loose my original pencils -- but it would take faaarrrrrrr too long. One character could take 45 minutes to ink. I had to work slowly and methodically since the ink was slow to dry. I've had nothing but trouble getting my crappy ass scanner to shoot the mylar well to begin with. All the detail I'd create would be lost by the time I washed it through Photoshop (which by the way, became another prolonged and unnecessary step). All of the steps I created and the time involved has put me off of doing the strips in the first place. That begs the question... what was the point?

So I've gone back to the original method of creating the strip. It will still be highly digital, but the front end will once again become analog. I'm already enjoying it. Inking on Bristol board takes no time at all, and it helps my brain to see everything together in a coherent package.

You know how the actors in the new Star Wars flicks seem disjointed and lacking passion? I always figured that was
because everything was done with a green screen. How can you convincingly interact with sets and characters that aren't actually there? Same thing applies here. It's weird, but the drawings kind of light up once their in an orderly proximity to one another. One feeds another, and the material is strengthened as a result.

George once said some day my characters would talk to one another. I didn't get that when he told me that five years ago. It makes perfect sense now. He didn't mean in it in the abstract manner that I presumed -- it's quite literally a mechanic that I've been missing for years now.

Sorry for the ramble. I'm excited!

Irony, thy name is AK-47

2007-02-25T12:03:00.000-06:00

Some little know facts about me, "Mr. Liberal":

• I was raised around guns
• I've shot guns
• I've gone deer hunting (and taken a deer down)
• I've gone pheasant hunting
• I'm good with a shotgun

I helped my father sell my ammunition from my grandparent's now-defunct baitshop at a gun show this week. I used to go to gun shows all the time as a kid. Nothing new on me. This one was no different with the exception of how small they've become. Most of the folks are well meaning. Really, they're like any lot in society -- most are harmless, some of them need to be kicked in the head. But on the whole, they're the same rural folk that I grew up with that would just as soon be left alone. Good, decent folk who happen to like firearms.

There was an announcement at the beginning of the show by a guy on a bullhorn from the conservation club that reminded me how divided I am from upbringing. He was enumerating some of the gun control proposals that the state is working on and how they were likely to pass since the Democrats have new-found power. He also made reference to legislation coming out of "Milwaukee", which almost made me laugh out loud. Two of my friends got held up at gunpoint outside of my building a couple of months back. I can think of two others that have been jumped at gunpoint. Milwaukee seems to be immersed in gun-related crime.

This isn't to say that we need more gun control -- because that's not the solution. More laws or more control never strike me as a soltuion to anything. We have enough laws on the books. The level of enforcement is certainly in question.

It's clear that there does need to be more of a dialog between the two camps. I can see both sides on this issue. It would take a considerable amount of trouble to do the same with both sides. But honestly, most people are rational enough. City folks don't want to be shot at -- rural folks want to be left alone. There's a compromise in there somewhere.

But I shake my head when I read this.

"In announcing that it was suspending its professional ties with Zumbo, the NRA -- a well-financed gun lobby that for decades has fought attempts to regulate assault weapons -- noted that the new Congress should pay careful attention to the outdoors writer's fate."

All because the man suggested that *maybe* you don't need an assault rifle to take out a prairie dog. But that's not what this is all about. As the article goes on to articulate:

"They do not want American gun owners to make a distinction between assault weapons and traditional hunting guns such as shotguns and rifles."

And therein lies the crux. Personally, I'll draw a distinction between between Joe Deer Hunter and the Michigan Militia if want to, fuck you very much. And I don't even care! Keep 'em! Keep your toys and play army! It's none of my business, so long as you don't put that hardware in the hands of ill-meaning people. Just don't go after someone for having views slightly dissimilar to your own. Is a personal opinion that much of a threat to some people? All this amounts to is fundamentalism, but with bullets.

This society thrives on differing viewpoints. Why would anyone want to punish a person for for having a different perspective? If you don't like what he has to say, that's your perogative. Don't listen to him. But get a grip. It's not like he screwing Jane Fonda on top of Ronald Regan's corpse.

Hilarious.

2007-02-25T08:15:00.000-06:00

"Sometimes I think the world just waits for me to get cocky"

I had planned on using the entirety of my Saturday to get some much needed work done. I even finished my Friday night at midnight so I could wake up bright early.

And I did!

I awoke at three in the morning after evidently contracting some sort of fierce stomach bug. Suffice it to say, it isn't pretty. Actually, it was downright alarming. I thought the worst of it had passed after a miserable hour and a half. But this damn thing just kept going.

I couldn't eat a damn thing. I didn't want to drink anything. Which was all that much worse since everything I had eaten and drunk and been forcibly extricated in the wee hours of Saturday morning. I mostly laid in bed throughout Saturday and had broken, feverish dreams. I haven't been that sick since contracting gastroenteritis in Mexico over a college spring break, and even that event paled in comparison. Something knocked me down and beat the shit out of me for a solid 32 hours.

I couldn't move without feeling the need to throw-up. As it was, I was simply having difficulty standing. My balance was impaired and being upright only seemed to make my digestive track go insane. None of the over the counter products I had any affect on this bug whatsoever. What would normally work on my symptoms instead were as effective as shooting spitballs at a tank. This would have actually been cause for me to stroll over to the doctor or an ER - if I had insurance.

I finally forced myself out of bed around 5:00 yesterday evening to purchase some Gatorade and miscellaneous chow. I staggered through a grocery store packed with city dwellers that were stocking up in anticipation for our not-to-be blizzard.

I tried to rehydrate and feed myself. I was barely able to keep the Gatorade down. I couldn't even get a quarter of the way into my dinner/breakfast/lunch/dinner.When I woke up at two this morning, my head felt like is was about to split open -- but I finally forced myself to finish a sandwich and down some liquids.

The war seems to have subsided within my body. Still -- I just lost an entire day. I'm none too pleased. If any of you tried calling (or rung my door bell last night around 9:00) and didn't get a response, now you'll know why.

I know this makes for less than enthralling reading, but I felt a need to record it. This entry is for my benefit, not yours.

If any of you should pick this up for some reason, I might suggest trading it in for a nice, friendly little cold. Or perhaps a skin-eating virus. Skip the plague.

EDIT: After an extensive amount of research, I've finally nailed done the cause of my affliction -- food poisoning mixed with heavy drinking. Awesome combo. The culprits were mayo in a buffet that had been left out for too long combined with an endless supply of free beer. Really... I should have known better.

No. Really. Further evidence that I shouldn't be left to my own devices after drinking from a bottomless tap for four hours. I would have eaten my own shoe if I could have untied it. At least I wasn't driving. I would broken some teeth gnawing the cap off of my antifreeze reservoir.

Throttle

2007-02-23T11:43:00.000-06:00

It's been a looonngggg year.

Time isn't really marked by days, months or years. It's marked by events. When you -- fuck it. I could deliver a three page disortation on how time flies, but even I don't care.

There are so many things that i want to discuss here. So many events that have occured yet must remain unspoken to the general public. It would behoove me to vent, but I'm bound by decency or confidentiatlity not to. In some cases I keep my mouth shut because it won't help me professionaly. In yet others, they are to be left unsaid for years to come. Some things you have to keep close to your heart.

Cryptic, ain't it? And frankly -- for once -- I don't give Shit One whether or not anyone else understands al of this.

I hate it. I hate not venting. I tend to overthink most things in my life, so much so that I am left incapiciatetd by it all.
But I'm obligated to not dwell any longer. With all that has trangressed, the very worst I could do now is not make my most visible of contributions to this world.

Time's up, and I've got a lot of work to do. There's only been one thing standing in my as of late -- me. It's about time I've come to grips with that.

Tang is more dangerous than we previsouly suspected

2007-02-05T23:18:00.000-06:00

"Astronaut charged with kidnap attempt"

"Nowak raced from Houston to Orlando wearing diapers so she wouldn't have to stop to urinate, authorities said."

Nothing further your honor.

Oh -- wait. I know how to explain this all. See... it's LONELY.. out in space.

Sorry. Couldn't resist.

Aliens Need to Skip the Middle Man

2007-01-28T19:41:00.001-06:00

It's fortuitous for my blog that Tom Cruise has just been hailed as the Jesus Christ of Scientology. Thanks to Dana for digging up the story. We can finally quantify Cruise's prophet-ness by comparing him to a supposed competitor.

It's all quite simple. I recently attended a conference entitled "the Truth About U.F.O.s". The lecture had less to do with the study of mysterious things in the sky and more to do with a guy named "Rael". "Rael", known as Claude Vorilhon in his previously less successful form, alleged to have met with an alien race in 1973. He claims to have been whisked off to another planet, where upon he met with several deceased prophets: Jesus, Buddha, Vishnu -- the Superfriends of Religion. here's the cute part (and why Tom Cruise can give us a hand)... Rael was informed that he's the half-brother of Jesus.

Half-brother? What? God immaculately knocks up Mary, then proceeds to have a fling with someone not mentioned in the Bible? What is he doing-- setting up franchises?

Both of these guys claim to be representing the interests of an alien society. My question is this: why go through an intermediary? If the aliens are so advanced, can you even fathom what their PR operations must be like? I'm sure Captain Spaceman can afford to buy some airtime during "American Idol" if he really want to spread the word.

The conference itself was interesting. Over the course of an hour and a half, it became increasingly clear that the were six of seven "Raelians" scattered throughout the room. This became transparent when the question and answer portion of the evening kicked in. People in the audience would ask the speaker a question, and lo and behold, some guy sitting in the audience would start responding. Tricky.

Better yet, as people started to filter out, the Raeleians seemed to tighten their cordon. The mono-a-mono questions started receiving multiple answers. It's one thing for these guys to get a group consensus, but it made wonder whether or not they were deliberately maintaining dominance in the discussion. The entire atmosphere became eerily reminiscent of a high-pressure time share deal; small room, lots of sale pitch and guys that won't take 'no' for an answer. Whether or not these folks are that coordinated is pure speculation. In fact, I rather doubt it. But it made me wonder if I was seeing my first UFO cult face to face.

The people seem less the mind control type and more the "hey, let's follow an eccentric that looks like the frontman for Abba" kind of group. They believe that an alien race known as the Elohim created mankind. Which is weird, because it's supposed that another alien race beget them. Regardless, Rael is imagined to be the spokesman for the Elohim. He's come to Earth to pitch his message of sex and cloning, and his crew doesn't seem particularly dangerous save for their penchant for building an embassy in Israel. Tasty pick. What, the All Knowing Ones can't buy a parcel in Iowa? They have to have an office in one of the most contentious regions on the planet? Someone hook ET up with a decent realtor.

I certainly didn't pick up the Jim Jones vibe-- the sort of situation where a cult leader must fuel his delusions of omnipotence by controlling increasingly large portions of his minions life. Those scenarios often fizzle out with a mass suicide as the cult leader realizes that he can't control every portion of his followers' lives, true control alludes him and he wipes out the entire lot. The Raelians don't fit the bill. I didn't see any punch at the reception.

No, the Raelains seem mostly harmless. I would describe their constituents as fantasy-prone. They believe in a superior alien race, but attempt to retrofit the Bible (specifically) to reinforce their own mythos. As one can guess, this makes them very unpopular with the wayward Christians that stumbled upon this meeting. The Raelians trotted everything from "Chariots of the Gods" to Intelligent design to convince others of their world view. They ascribe themselves to a scientific disposition, but their rhetoric speaks of a deeply religious connotation.

Most inter sting to me was the depiction of the first alien said to visit Rael. Their alien resembles the archetypal example of the modern "extraterrestrial biological entity". That is to say our martians have a light complexion, pecan shaped head, large angular eyes and are somehow humanoid like us. I believe that this form of alien was popularized by the Betty and Barney Hill abduction case in 1961. Previous to that there had been a wave of flying saucer reports, but little in the way of up close and personal rap sessions with their supposed occupants. The Hills description of their other-worldly captors would help fuel the popular conception of what an alien looks like. Their "eye witness testimony" accounts for out current idea of what an extraterrestrial looks like.

I put quotes around the witness portion of things since their accounts are suspect at best. The Hills initially witnessed an unidentified flying object, but reportedly suffered from "missing time" They did not seem to recall anything about their alleged abduction by aliens until weeks after. Betty began having nightmares that would shape the story to follow. A hypnotherapist then tried to extract the rest, but seemed only to have succeeded in fleshing out a dream and substantiating it's validity.

But I digress.

I suspect that it's no accident that Rael's friend resembled the Hill's saucer friends. Rael's intergalactic buddies had facial hair and haircuts resembling that of dead prophets, but bore all the hallmarks of the now-classic EBE. Minor upgrade to the fantasy to fit the new narrative. Rael's life-changing close encounter beat the hell out of his previous life. He had come from a broken and harbored fantasies of achieving a rock star status. He was unable to make hay of music, racing an literature. Suddenly he became the mouthpiece to the most powerful lifeforms in the universe, and got groupies to boot. Not bad work if you can find it. Barring that, make it up.

Slice it anyway way like: it all sounds bogus to me. Perhaps Calvin and Hobbes said it best: "the surest sign of intelligent life elsewhere in the universe is that none have bothered to contact us".

Additional notes from the conference can be found here.

Citizens Of Tomorrow
By Tokyo Police Club

from A Lesson In Crime

Notes From the Alien Embassy

2007-01-28T18:18:00.000-06:00

What folows are the three pages of notes I transcribed during the lecture entitled "the Truth About U.F.O.s". It was conducted by a group following the alleged alien prophet "Rael". Bear in mind that I left some spelling erros in place.

Video 1

The Raelians seem to be using a segment from a History Channel
program on UFOs throughout history to bolster their own claims

•"Chariots of the Gods" referenced; the concept that alien visitation
can be identified throughout history as misinterpretations of
supernatural phenomena
•Claims that Sumerian texts bolster ancient alien visitation theory
•Suggests that the Nazca Lines in South America are an ancient flying
saucer airport
•the Mayans believed that Coco Kahn descended from the heavens to
impart the knowledge of mathematics; the idea is floated that he was
sent by some extraterrestrial means
•Riffs on King James version of bible in order to accommodate theories
of misinterpretation of miracles as alien events
•"Strong Exhaustive Concordance" is used to translate Elijah
•2 King 2:11 Moses and the Pillar of Fire alleged to be Moses
following a U.F.O.
•Claims that Moses did not part the Red Sea; postulates that the Red
Sea was parted by the propulsion system of a passing alien spacecraft
•goes on to suggest that that Moses's time on Mount Sinai was, in
fact, time spent inside a UFO

Video 2

This video appears to be a product of the Discovery Institute (think
tank devoted to Intelligent Design), though I can't be certain since
they've chosen a portion in the middle of the program.

•the video seems to reject Darwinian Evolution
•Individuals cited in video: Scott Minnich, "Prominent Scientist";
Michael J Behe, author of Darwin's Black Box; Jonathan Wells,
Biologist; Dean Kenyon, University of California, San Francisco
Professor and co-author of Biochemical Predestination; Stephen C.
Meyer, co-author of Biochemical Predestination
•alludes to biological "nanotechnology"
•cites bacterial flagellum as an example.. compares it's whip to "an
outboard motor"; suggests this by showing a computer rendering of a
too-mechanical looking flagellum
•emphasized the concept of "irreducible complexity"--the idea that a
lack of any part of a system will prohibit function. Mouse trap
without cheese used as an analogy. Though this theory usually means
•life is too complex to have arisen from as series of natural
adaptations, so God must have created it"
•alludes to another GI analogy of how a house is built; explains more
about the components of a house than it elaborates on the meaning if
irreducible complexity
•Dean Kenyon fails to grasp how proteins could have been created in
the absence of genetic instruction; GATTICA code used as an excuse of
how they could be assembled without DNA*goes on to claim the amino
acids ordered themselves without the process of chemical evolution;
embraces Intelligent Design
•video attempts to depict transcription
•RNA sequencing shown as a "molecular factory" via another CGI
animation; animation one again shows biological processes that look
far too mechanical to be real
•paradolia seems to contribute to the idea of DNA as being
•manufactured" by "genetic nanotechnology"

Video 3

Video produced by Raelians themselves. Looks to be from the early
nineties. It's narrated by an attractive woman that looks far too
happy, speaks with a foreign accent and continually cocks her head as
she speaks. A blue screen was sued to render a space backdrop behind
her. Resembles the blurred star look of Star Trek ships jumping into
warp drive, but in slow motion. Very New Agey feel.

•concentrates on story of Rael. Rael had an alleged Close encounter of
the Third Kind in 1973
•claims a flying saucer and it's occupants visited him in the hills of France
•the video re-creates this scene a' la Unsolved Mysteries and shows a
rendering of the alien with whom he allegedly spoke
•alien resembles today common caricature of extraterrestrials; pecan
shaped head, white skin, large eyes.
•Rael's alien has long hair and a goatee; looks like a Japanese
version of Jesus
•alien supposedly imparts wisdom onto Rael pertaining t the creation
of life on earth
•story claims that alien scientists were conducting experiments long,
long ago and had a technological accident; other aliens forced them to
conduct their research elsewhere, so they headed to Earth to create DNA
and assorted lifeforms with the assistance of geneticists and artists
•Genesis referenced
•claims that the word "God" in the bible was mistranslated-- supposed
to be "those that came from the sky", or Elohim
•claims that Jesus was tasked with updating the Old Testament
•claims that aliens chose the period of time following the detonation
of the atomic bomb to locate a new prophet: Rael
•"the embassy will be built, and our parents from space will come"

Question and Answer

First of all, it should be mentioned that they were many more Raelians
in the room than previously suspected. Total number seemed to be 6 to
7 members scattered throughout the room. They don't look the part of
the classic UFO nut; rather they are well-dressed, preferring business
casual to tin-foil hats.

The Q & A started innocently enough with members of the audience
asking the main presenter question. Slowly the other Raelians started
to respond as well, giving away their locations throughout the room.
What would start as one-on-one questioning would turn into three-on-one
answers. The way they used the space and circles the wagons was
vaguely reminiscent of a high-pressure timeshare deal.

The Raelians also proclaim that they are very much interested in
science, though their beliefs and language suggest a sort of religious
bent. They were far less interested in discussing the "the Truth
Behind UFOs" and far more adamant about tram sitting the beliefs of
their leader, Rael (Claude Vorilhon).

The question and answer portion of the evening underscores the rivalry
between Raelians and religious fundamentalists. The Raelians have
piggy-backed the work of religious think tanks on Intelligent design
to justify their view of alien-created life and are prone to
retrofitting Bible passages to suggest alien rather than holy
intervention. Naturally, this doesn't play well with some members of
the audience.

I myself found it ironic that the two factions thought themselves to
be worlds apart idelaogically. In fact, their belief systems are not
entirely disparate. They both fixate on prophets. They both don't put
stock in evolution. And they both seem to have a belief in day of
reckoning coming up on the horizon.

Random notes:

•"Intelligent Design: A Message From the Designers"
•reports of miracles in various religious s=texts explained away as
the work of aliens
•claims that the Elohim want an embassy in Israel
•one Raelian ascribed the soul as being our genetic code made by the
aliens; yet another contradicts this while arguing with a religious
fundamentalist saying that "the souls is just a creative idea to
facilitate our desire to mediate"
• claims that hen people die, the aliens have the DNA of the deceased
in a supercomputer and use it to make a clone somewhere else
•Rael supposedly flew to the home planet of the Elohim and met Jesus,
Buddha and other religious figures -- or their clones. Kind of like
going to meet the Superfriends of God.
•Rael claims to be the half-brother of Jesus
•Raelians refer to being baptized in church as being "cultified"
•Raelians believe that aliens created all life as we know it; in turn,
other aliens are supposed to have created the Elohim; numerous
references to the Mobius strip view of creation alluded to as "the
Infinite"

Holy Thursday
By David Axelrod

from Dusty Fingers Volume 2

"SEX" Watch: Day 489

2007-01-23T17:28:00.000-06:00

As previously mentioned, all manner of people seem to stumble across a fairly innocuous photo that I uploaded on my Flickr account two years ago.

I took a picture of a salon window advertisement in Montreal, Quebec. It simply depicts a vivacious young lady wearing a necklace that says "SEX":

Why not? I'm sure all the guys she runs into wouldn't think of it unless it was emblazoned across her throat.

The goal of "SEX" Watch is to keep tabs on how often random internet passersby stumble across it. Most likely some goofball says "I wanna see sex!", types the aforementioned word in the Flickr search engine, and Blamo!-- they're sorely disappointed.

When I last checked the tally in September of 2005 the photo had been viewed 71 times. 489 days later the tally is....

399!

That's IT?!

That's not even one perv per day! And look at what the closest runner-up was! A clipping of Ecto-1 I scanned in FIVE DAYS AGO! It already has 156 views! To be fair, I know why that is. I uploaded it so I could post it in a message board thread (dork!). It's also been hanging around in a window on a popular Ghostbuster fan site:

But still... in the internet tug-o-war, the geeks are about to overpower the strong-handed pervs! I feel so disenchanted. I feel so... so... clean.

Missed that one

2007-01-21T18:39:00.000-06:00

Heh.

Just found this. My name is always botched, regardless of circumstances. Though "Groschoyof" is a new one on me.

That's ok. They misspelled JB's name as well -- "Generous Beatings".

Protection

2007-01-12T02:33:00.000-06:00

Jerry asked me once why I chased after the portable phone robber. I can't recall what answer I furbished, but I will say this: it's so my friends, neighbors and loved ones don't have to face this shit themselves.

Nothing about that sentiment is an exaggeration. I was born with my mother's great big heart and my father's ferocity.

If any of these criminal fucks have to run into someone in a darkened alley, I want it to be me. Their motives are base, their methods are simple and their ability to coordinate attacks is next to non-existent. Some may be more bold than others. Some more brutal. But at the end of the day, they're petty thieves. No-- they're fucking idiots. I will not be bested by morons. I may appear to be many things, but when pushed, I'm more like my father than I give myself credit for.

That means I'm not moving. I will not yield. This is where I live now, and I'll be damned if I won't defend it and all that that implies.

All the same, I wish I would have strolled outside thirty seconds earlier.

It's been a long night. I'm sacking out.

Today's Show n' Tell

2007-01-10T16:07:00.000-06:00

Minus the "Tell"

Manifest Destiny

2006-12-31T11:39:00.000-06:00

An oldie, but a goodie:

For those not in the know, I'm out of Brew City. Have been since Thursday

I'm done with the job I worked hard at for two years. I'm done turning their products into something refined and hip. I'm done working in a hostile work environment. I'm done expending all of my energy at work and having none for home. I'm done working for incompetent people that are still in business in spite of their own miscalculations.

It's over.

Kaputt.

Finito.

I should be terrified. I don't have another job lined up. Finding design work in Milwaukee is never as easy task, especially when you work up the street from an art institute that pumps out kids willing to work for cheap -- or unpaid interns, for that matter.

But I'm not. Even if my world falls apart, I can honestly say that's it's nothing compared to pushing a boulder up hill like I have been.

Honest. I'm not afraid. I'm liberated.

I can go anywhere and do anything. Yes... I'll be broke if my vocational situation doesn't turn around quickly. But that really isn't important in the grand scheme of things. Standing up for what you believe is far too important of a thing to put a price on. Running hard while remaining in place is simply something I will no longer do.

Onward.

The New Coke Syndrome

2006-12-16T13:09:00.000-06:00

"Only a handful of people know what the Pepsi Syndrome means. Maybe soon, everyone will know it."

Morgyn uncovers gold yet again:

I suppose that little "ma and pa" upstart Microsoft couldn't afford to hire software developers to come in design Vista in a way that wouldn't totally rip off Mac OS X.

Oh wait....

I read about this in Pogue's column three days ago, but I didn't care too much. I figured Windows hadn't been updated in so long that they couldn't really avoid get criticized for looking like OS X. The phrase that stuck in my head was the following:
"You get the feeling that Microsoft's managers put Mac OS X on an easel and told the programmers, 'Copy that.'"

But it wasn't until seeing the video that Morgyn had posted that it sunk in... the system that has received ridicule for years from the PC camp is now being copied and distributed to the very same people. I wonder what they'll make of this?

My gripe lies less with the idea of Mac being copied by Microsoft -- I know how business men work, so this doesn't surprise me -- but more with the idea that a multi-billion dollar company like Microsoft really didn't take their own path on this one. I mean really... aren't they supposed to be the best and the brightest? Why didn't they just make something totally revolutionary? Why even come any close to mimicking your rival? Why give them a nod at all?

That said, this is most likely aesthetic duplicity. I'll have to test drive Vista to confirm my suspicions. But before anyone any of Gates acolytes get the bright idea of registering your disgust with me, consider the following...

Have you ever seen Coke even acknowledge Pepsi' existences?

No.

Name one commercial. Name one advertisement. If it ever, then it was certainly a gross miscalculation on some executive's part. Coke knows it's on top and it's not so insecure as to let you know that it's bothered by the competition.

I can only think of ONE example of Coke bending to the pressure of consumer brinkmanship.

Microsoft Vista: The Next Generation of New Coke

The Power of Prayer

2006-12-09T19:03:00.000-06:00

"Body" on TV turns out to be a mannequin

"That's the cruelest thing in the world," said Sheneala Gibbs who ran over from her home nearby because she feared someone was going to jump and thought "maybe we could pray him down."

Huh. Maybe I should call this woman the next time I lock my keys in my car.

Note to self...

2006-12-03T13:29:00.000-06:00

"A good plan executed today is better than a perfect plan executed at some indefinite point in the future."
-General George S. Patton

Projects

2006-11-18T21:12:00.000-06:00

Here's a glimpse at some of the side projects I've worked on recently:

Wardenclyffe Industries © Copyright David Schrubbe 2006

More Reynolds....

2006-10-25T08:06:00.000-05:00

Yet another Reynolds strip will appear in the Shepherd Express today.

For my part, I think this particular incident to be farily mundane. But the consensus is that this topic puts some of the Senator's self-serving habits into perspective better than some of his more obtuse proposals... like building a seperate autobahn in Wisconsin for speeders after he got ticketed for speeding.

Here's the one the didn't make the cut:

Anatomy of a Comic Strip

2006-10-19T22:48:00.001-05:00

For those of you in Milwaukee, you may have noticed the following on the Expresso page in the Shepherd Express:

Kind of strange, isn't?

For the mildly curious, what ended up making the paper was one of five versions of the strip. The editors desired a strip relying only on a direct quote of the annotated politician to be the punchline -- let's face it, he does say wacky things -- but I couldn't resist applying some "funny" of my own.

Below are the last and first strips submitted tot he Shepherd, respectively:

2006-10-19T22:48:00.000-05:00

I'll always love you, Habeas Corpus

2006-10-17T23:47:00.000-05:00

Bush signs bill on terror prosecution

Perhas that headline should read "U.S. President Puts 9mm to Head of Habeas Corpus, Pulls Trigger"

Now would be a good time to remind people that the repeated claim that this President has asserted is that it's his job "to protect the American people". That would include preserving the United States Constitution. In fact, the Presidential Oath explicitly states this as his charge, in accordance with Article II, Section I of the very same document: "I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States."

That's it. That's the fucking oath, Ladies and Gentlemen. The whole enchilada.

Why sign this legislation? Do you honestly mean to tell me that we couldn't have prosecuted the people that launched the deadliest attack on American soil with the laws previously in place? What, we didn't have a legal system capable of handling this sort of thing prior to the authorization of military tribunals at the behest of an omnipotent head of state? BULLSHIT.

You know what... anything I have to say on this topic will devolve into a lengthy string of curse words and hyperbole. My Senator is able to concisely summarize the gravity of the situation better than I could possibly hope to:

Statement of U.S. Senator Russ Feingold
On the President Signing the Military Commissions Act

October 17, 2006

"The legislation signed by the President today violates basic principles and values of our constitutional system of government. It allows the government to seize individuals on American soil and detain them indefinitely with no opportunity to challenge their detention in court. And the new law would permit an individual to be convicted on the basis of coerced testimony and even allow someone convicted under these rules to be put to death.

The checks and balances of our system of government and the fundamental fairness of the American people and legal system are among our greatest strengths in the fight against terrorism. I am deeply disappointed that Congress enacted this law. We will look back on this day as a stain on our nation's history."

See ya' in Gitmo, Russ.

Paint It, Black
By the Rolling Stones

from the "Paint It, Black" single

Riverwest residents: anyone seen a white van? (UPDATED)

2006-10-15T22:31:00.000-05:00

FRIDAY, Oct. 13, 2006, 10:40 a.m.
By Gina Barton

Police seek suspect in student's murder

Milwaukee Police have released the description of a suspect and a
vehicle they believe may be connected to the homicide of 21-year-old
Joe Munz, a student at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and
delivery driver for Jimmy John's sandwich shop, who was shot around
8:15 p.m. Tuesday in the 3200 block of N. Weil St.

The suspect is a black male in his 20s or 30s, between 5'8" and 5'10,"
with a medium build and medium to dark complexion. He was last seen
wearing a dark jacket and dark cap and was armed with a dark-colored
handgun, police said.

The vehicle is a white 1990s cargo-style van with no side windows, a
loud muffler and a horizontal mark above the rear passenger tire.

Anyone with information is asked to call the Milwaukee Police homicide
division at (414) 935-7360.

UPDATED

MONDAY, Oct. 16, 2006, 1:39 p.m.
By John Diedrich
Arrest made in slaying of UWM student
An arrest has been made in the case of a college student killed last week as he delivered sandwiches, police said today.

A 24-year-old man was arrested Sunday night in the death of Joseph Munz, 21, and the case has been sent to the district attorney for charging, said Anne E. Schwartz, department spokeswoman. She said citizen cooperation was key in making the arrest. Police released information about a white van spotted at the scene and citizens directed police to that van, she said.

It appears the suspect robbed Munz, who fought and continued to fight after he was shot, Schwartz said. After the suspect emptied the gun's magazine of bullets, Munz kept fighting and was pistol-whipped by the suspect, she said.
The attack took place about 8:15 p.m. on Tuesday.

Munz, who is from Lodi, was a student at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, and worked part-time delivering for Jimmie John's sandwiches.

A memorial for Munz is scheduled for 7:30 p.m. tonight at Spaights Plaza at the UWM campus.

We're going local on this one...

2006-10-11T07:43:00.000-05:00

Today's comic may be somewhat obtuse upon first glance. Many people have probably never heard of Wisconsin State Senator Tom Reynolds, so this strip needs a bit of context.

Viola!

And here's a bit from the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel:

State senator says he'll appear with challenger - at own church, no cameras allowed

Sept. 19, 2006

Cary Spivak & Dan Bice

State Sen. Tom Reynolds has finally found a forum where he will show up for a political debate.

His church, according to his ground rules.

The West Allis Republican said he will debate his Democratic challenger, Tosa Ald. Jim Sullivan, at Grace Community Church, the evangelical church he has been attending for the past few months.

And if there is any doubt about whether the debate will use a format acceptable to the camera-shy politician, check out the voice mail that Jody Lokken, a church staffer helping to organize the debate, left for Sullivan's campaign manager the other day:

"We would like to offer a forum to allow these two men to get together that agrees with Tom Reynolds' ground rules."

Specifically, Pastor Ted Groves said the church would mandate a strict ban on video cameras, cameras and other recording devices, except for those used by the media. Still unresolved, Groves acknowledged, is how to enforce the ban.

No date has been set for the debate, but Sullivan has agreed to be there.

Reynolds has been dodging joint appearances with Sullivan because he's afraid that a special-interest group could tape the event and use footage in an attack ad. He sat out a debate in a Brookfield church last month for this reason.

In an interview, Reynolds said, "If I was making the rules, I would say no video cameras allowed."

Would that include tossing somebody out of the church onto the street if he continued to film?

"That would be one of the options if they're not going to stop," Reynolds said.

Churches with bouncers - now that's a novel idea.

_________________

More from that article here.

And more here.

And here.

And here.

I've got more of these, but I'll spare you, dear reader.

PS. Why does this guy look like the bastard love child of Ben Folds and Ned Flanders?

Jesusland
By Ben Folds

from Songs for Silverman

Not blurry, for once

2006-10-02T20:24:00.000-05:00

I'd be remiss if I didn't formally mention...

2006-10-02T07:25:00.000-05:00

... Counter-Productive has a Myspace account. Myspace isn't really Dave's thing, so in actuality you'll be dealing with me.

I don't see myself swaying Dave's position on this anytime soon. That's why I'll be starting a petition on this pertinent issue. I plan on leaving clipboards for people to sign at coffee shops in the metropolitan area. I look forward to collecting signatures from cartoon characters and people that are, oddly enough, hail from a family named after some sort of genital and have adjectives for first names.

Dear Voorhees...

2006-09-29T19:40:00.000-05:00

Here's some illustrations I've done recently for Undercurrents...

AZ Candidate for Governor Wants 9/11 Memorial Replaced With Bumper Sticker

2006-09-26T11:10:00.000-05:00

Not literally, but close enough.

PHOENIX - The Republican candidate for governor says the state's recently dedicated 9/11 memorial should be torn down, calling it an insult to America because of wording that he says criticizes the United States and fails to adequately honor victims and military personnel.
...

The memorial includes quotations like: "You don't win battles of terrorism with more battles" and highlights chronological events such as "Congress questions why CIA & FBI didn't prevent attacks" and "Erroneous US air strike kills 46 Uruzgan ( Afghanistan) civilians."
...

Munsil said some parts of the memorial are fine but that the structure should be torn down and replaced with a new one that includes the phrases "Let's roll," "United We Stand" and "God Bless America."

I can understand how someone could view some of those inscriptions as partisan. I can even undertsand why the somber mood of such a memorial shouldn't be shattered by shrill bomb-throwing facts. Honestly, like it or not, there's a lefty bend to it. I question the merits of assailing all who view it with a Noam Chomsky review. You can get a better look at some of the inscriptions here.

But to suggest that the offensive portions of this memorial be countered with such hyperbole as LET'S ROLL is just downright stupid. As I understand it, no tax dollars were expended in building the memorial. Kind of like those big, fuck Ten Commandments tablets that dot the American landscape. You may not be thrilled with them, but if it's funded by private resources, then oh well. Freedom of speech trumps personal taste.

I'd rather not leave such editorial decision in the hands of people who speak in such simplistic terms. If you feel that military personnel have been slighted by this, by all means, address it. If you want to see firefighters honored in a light undimmed by partisan rhetoric, then obejct strenusously. But don't couch those issues with complaints like "there is not a single mention of God in this memorial". Is this about honor, or is that about catering to your preferences?

Aren't conservatives supposed to be the tough-guy hard-ass bunch that complain about how sensitive liberals are? Because it seems that hardcore conservatives get their panties in a bunch rather easily. As with a forms of expression in this country: if you don't like, don't listen to it. Don't dictate what people are and aren't free to say. That would contradict your FREEDOM bumper sticker, wouldn't it?

And this SLAYS me: "It’s a worldview that is critical of America, and in many cases cheapens 9/11,” said Greg Patterson

Uh huh. Cheapens 9/11. Using a bullshit excuse to send US service men and women into harm's way in the wrong-fuck-country is fine and good, but criticism -- yeah, that's the real threat. Dissent and challenge to authority arquintessentialal aspects of being American. It's in our colonial blood. Anyone who tells you otherwise is more concerned with being right than being an American.

Here's a bumper sticker for you to wrap your brain around: QUESTION AUTHORITY. In the meantime, marshall your own resources and build your own memorial.

I "boner" Keith Obllbermann

2006-09-25T22:08:00.000-05:00

Keith summarizes the hypocrisy of the reaction to the Clinton interview better than I am capable of doing so

Fox gets bitchslapped

2006-09-24T12:18:00.000-05:00

'"You gonna talk like a bitch, you gonna get slapped like a bitch!"

Clinton On Fox News Sunday

I posted this bit in a blog back in May, but it bears repeating. What follows is copied from my previous blog, but I'd like to add the following qualifications: I hated Clinton when he was in office. I was a teenager, and I admit that I was not well-read when it came to politics. And the reading I did do involved incidents such as the botch ATF raid in Waco, the fiasco at Ruby Ridge, NAFTA and the pooch-screw htta was the 1996 Federal Communications Act and gun control.

I still think those issues were botched by the Clinton Administration. That hasn't changed.

But they PALE in comparison to the utter incompetence that consumes the current powers that be. Can you imagine what this country would have done to Willy if he had sat on his ass for seven minutes in the age of ICBMs following the attacks of 9/11? Hell, can you imagine what we would have done if he allowed them to occur on his watch AT ALL? Why does Bush get the Special Olympics treatment? "Oh, you're doing such a good job buddy!"

I will give Bush this: he was only in charge of the country for eight months before the shit hit the fan. Eight months in a long time, and a lot can be done and prevented within the amount. But it's still understandable to a degree.

But he's had FIVE YEARS to capture and/or kill that fuck Bin Laden. Hasn't happened yet. Double-you tee eff, shithead.

________
Good afternoon.

Today I ordered our armed forces to strike at terrorist-related facilities in Afghanistan and Sudan because of the imminent threat they presented to our national security.

I want to speak with you about the objective of this action and why it was necessary.

Our target was terror. Our mission was clear -- to strike at the network of radical groups affiliated with and funded by Osama bin Laden, perhaps the preeminent organizer and financier of international terrorism in the world today.

The groups associated with him come from diverse places, but share a hatred for democracy, a fanatical glorification of violence, and a horrible distortion of their religion to justify the murder of innocents.

They have made the United States their adversary precisely because of what we stand for and what we stand against.

A few months ago, and again this week, bin Laden publicly vowed to wage a terrorist war against America, saying -- and I quote -- ``We do not differentiate between those dressed in military uniforms and civilians. They are all targets.''

Their mission is murder. And their history is bloody.

In recent years, they killed American, Belgian and Pakistani peacekeepers in Somalia. They plotted to assassinate the president of Egypt and the Pope. They planned to bomb six United States 747s over the Pacific.

They bombed the Egyptian embassy in Pakistan. They gunned down German tourists in Egypt. The most recent terrorist events are fresh in our memory. Two weeks ago, 12 Americans and nearly 300 Kenyans and Tanzanians lost their lives. And another 5,000 were wounded when our embassies in Nairobi and Dar es Salaam were bombed.

There is convincing information from our intelligence community that the bin Laden terrorist network was responsible for these bombings. Based on this information, we have high confidence that these bombings were planned, financed and carried out by the organization bin Laden leads.

America has battled terrorism for many years. Where possible, we've used law enforcement and diplomatic tools to wage the fight. The long arm of American law has reached out around the world and brought to trial those guilty of attacks in New York, in Virginia and in the Pacific.
We have quietly disrupted terrorist groups and foiled their plots. We have isolated countries that practice terrorism. We've worked to build an international coalition against terror. But there have been and will be times when law enforcement and diplomatic tools are simply not enough.
When our very national security is challenged and when we must take extraordinary steps to protect the safety of our citizens. With compelling evidence that the bin Laden network of terrorist groups was planning to mount further attacks against Americans and other freedom-loving people, I decided America must act.

And so this morning, based on the unanimous recommendation of my national security team, I ordered our armed forces to take action to counter an immediate threat from the bin Laden network.

Earlier today, the United States carried out simultaneous strikes against terrorist facilities and infrastructure in Afghanistan. Our forces targeted one of the most active terrorist bases in the world. It contained key elements of the bin Laden network's infrastructure and has served as a training camp for literally thousands of terrorists from around the globe.
We have reason to believe that a gathering of key terrorist leaders was to take place there today, thus underscoring the urgency of our actions.

Our forces also attacked a factory in Sudan associated with the bin Laden network. The factory was involved in the production of materials for chemical weapons.

The United States does not take this action lightly. Afghanistan and Sudan have been warned for years to stop harboring and supporting these terrorist groups.

But countries that persistently host terrorists have no right to be safe havens. Let me express my gratitude to our intelligence and law enforcement agencies for their hard, good work. And let me express my pride in our armed forces, who carried out this mission while making every possible effort to minimize the loss of innocent lives.

I want you to understand, I want the world to understand that our actions today were not aimed against Islam, the faith of hundreds of millions of good, peace-loving people all around the world, including the United States. No religion condones the murder of innocent men, women and children. But our actions were aimed at fanatics and killers who wrap murder in the cloak of righteousness, and in so doing, profane the great religion in whose name they claim to act.

My fellow Americans, our battle against terrorism did not begin with the bombing of our embassies in Africa, nor will it end with today's strike.

It will require strength, courage and endurance. We will not yield to this threat. We will meet it no matter how long it may take. This will be a long, ongoing struggle between freedom and fanaticism, between the rule of law and terrorism.

We must be prepared to do all that we can for as long as we must. America is and will remain a target of terrorists precisely because we are leaders; because we act to advance peace, democracy and basic human values; because we're the most open society on earth; and because, as we have shown yet again, we take an uncompromising stand against terrorism.

But of this, I am also sure. The risks from inaction to America and the world would be far greater than action. For that would embolden our enemies, leaving their ability and their willingness to strike us intact.

In this case, we knew before our attack that these groups already had planned further actions against us and others.

I want to reiterate the United States wants peace, not conflict. We want to lift lives around the world, not take them. We have worked for peace in Bosnia, in Northern Ireland, in Haiti, in the Middle East and elsewhere.

But in this day, no campaign for peace can succeed without a determination to fight terrorism. Let our actions today send this message loud and clear: There are no expendable American targets.

There will be no sanctuary for terrorists. We will defend our people, our interests and our values. We will help people of all faiths, in all parts of the world, who want to live free of fear and violence.

We will persist and we will prevail.

Thank you, God bless you and may God bless our country.

_________

I thought that this speech was one hell of a call to arms. It was the kind of articulated tough-talk that I expected from George Bush in the wake of 9/11. There was only one problem: it never came from the lips of George W. Bush.

This speech was delivered by Bill Clinton, on August 20, 1998.

Remember kids: I'm an NRA lifetime member Eagle Scout from the state of Wisconsin. That's not a joke. I was pro-Bush when he took office in early 2000. I thought that Washington needed shaking up. I recall watching the Clinton take the stand on television and mince words about the definition of "is". What a lying bastard! Things had to change.

You may recall that the movie "Wag the Dog" had been released around that time. I was working in a video store when it was released to videotape, and I relished the fact that so many people were renting it! Clinton issued an apology over his affair with Monica Lewinsky on August 17, 1998. Pundits decried this speech and it's aforementioned strikes as an attempt to "wag the dog". I thought it was all cover for damaging news.

The real distraction was the Lewinsky scandal. This country impeached a president over a blow-job.

I'll let that sink in.

Take a look at the laundry list of Bush fuck-ups sometime and ask yourself why we haven't held him to anything remotely close in terms of standards.

Clinton left office with a federal budget surplus for fiscal year 2000 that amounted to at least $230 billion. Bush is presiding over a debt ceiling that has just been raised to $9 trillion.

Clinton prevented the Millennium Bomb Plot with zero fan-fair. Bush failed to read the Presidential Daily Briefing on August 6, 2001 and sat in a classroom while the attacks of September 11 took place. Then he was hailed as a great leader and a decisive president.

What a crock of shit. And at one time I agreed with it. Such is the benefit of hindsight.

New Strip

2006-09-22T08:33:00.000-05:00

Click on the strip view the larger version

Go here to gaze upon the full-scale color version.

Bear with us as we bring the main site back up to spec. Not all of the links are fully functional yet.

Review in today's Sherpherd Express

2006-09-20T12:26:00.000-05:00

Yeah... that's a fair assessment.

Presently the book is only available on the left side counter at Fuel Cafe. We're presently working on getting it into other stores, but for now Fuel offers consignment-free book sales.

Many thanks to Jason Powell and the people over at ShepEx for writing this up.

All things Riverwest

2006-09-19T12:17:00.000-05:00

EDIT: This blog would likely make much more sense with words...

Dave and I contributed a chunk to a collaborative comic strip appearing in Undercurrents this week entitled "The Eight Enemies of Undercurrents". Check it out. The new issue is available all over Milwaukee.

Here's a friendly reminder that the new new ADD afflicted book "I Will Ruin Our Friendship By Making a Clumsy Sexual Advance" is available at Fuel Cafe. Look for the promtional poster and bumper stickers to start popping up in other places not of the virtual realm.

For the morbidly curious, the results of Friday Night's beer drinking match between the Brew City Bruisers' Jenerous Beatings and myself was indeed championed by JB. She beat me by on PBR... and would have lost on a technicality of which we will not speak. Not that it matters -- she still beat me. Well done JB.

The fridge photo may look less than impressive. That's because the photo was taken AFTER we depleted it of beer.

And yes, the photos are blurry because that evening was blurry. REALLY blurry.

For some reason JB placed a slow sign in front of Josh's head. Looking at it now, it would have made more sense to do that to me since I was too slow on that last beer.

I should also mention that the next Brew City Bruisers bout is this weekend. Pick a team to root for and be utterly obnoxious about cheering for them.

Undercurrents will have a cart in Center Street Days this weekend. Stop by new neighborhood and have a drink with me!

Airbag

2006-09-19T11:00:00.000-05:00

I have to fix Sofya's old bike now. I was riding it to work this morning since I broke
the axle on my bike. I came zipping out of a half-blind alley and saw an SUV coming. I
figured "no problem, I've got time to beat him".

But I missed a low-to-the-ground red car that was in front of him and obscured from my
view until the last second.

I hit the breaks as hard as I could, locking up the front, making the front tire go
perpendicular and sending my ass into the air. Don't ask me what happened next, because I
don't even know. It happened too fast.

I'm incredibly thankful that I've taken martial arts classes on and off throughout the
last 6 years. All that time bouncing around in aikido, judo and jujitsu doesn't
necessarily mean that I can recall a wrist lock with absolute clarity when pressed by a
Sensei -- I overthink when pressed -- but apparently I've acquired some amount of
implicit muscle memory from repetively being thrown around and falling down.

Point is I reflexively executed some kind of side break-fall mid-fucking-air, came down
on my side and looked up to see a car bumper stop a half a foot short of my head. I
landed flawlessly on my right side without injuring the iPod in my right hip pocket, the
phone in a lower leg pocket or my body for that matter.

I kept my chin tucked and avoided having head slam against the pavement. I'm not even
sore.

I got up and apologized to the startled driver. It was my own dumb fault for trying to
race the SUV without being able to see absolutely everything before flying out of an
alley. He kept apologizing for his brakes -- said he was literally on his to the shop to
have them fixed because they were so bad -- and I insisted that it was still my own damn
fault.

But I did totally fuck up the front rim of the bike. I torqued down on it as I was
pitched in the air, and the result is a rim as straight as a sombrero. So I'm taking a
trip to the bike shop tonight and dropping the rim off for repair.

Skepticism, Not Pessimism

2006-09-18T13:17:00.000-05:00

"There is a reward structure in science that is very interesting: Our highest honors go to those who disprove the findings of the most revered among us. So Einstein is revered not just because he made so many fundamental contributions to science, but because he found an imperfection in the fundamental contribution of Isaac Newton. (Isaac Newton was surely the greatest physicist before Albert Einstein.)

Now think of what other areas of human society have such a reward structure, in which we revere those who prove that the fundamental doctrines that we have adopted are wrong. Think of it in politics, or in economics, or in religion; think of it in how we organize our society. Often, it's exactly the opposite: There we reward those who reassure us that what we've been told is right, that we need not concern ourselves about it. This difference, I believe, is at least a basic reason why we've made so much progress in science, and so little in some other areas."

-Carl Sagan
1995

Wow...

2006-09-12T18:53:00.000-05:00

Distraction

2006-09-08T11:53:00.000-05:00

First, credit where credit is due. Morgyn found the following, because Morgyn is made of awesome:

Secondly, I have a more nuanced position now on the Department of Defense and it's revision of the Army Field Manual with respect to interrogation techniques. I have listened to and taken notes on a few briefings from the Pentagon. I would like to speak about DoD Directive 2310.01E and the recent Gitmo transfer at greater length once time permits me to do so.

The blog I fired off the other day emanated from work and was a hack job. Now I'm ready to tear into this with a bit more information at my finger tips. Namely three pages of notes...

Basically, I think the Armed Forces did a superb job in updating it's standards with regard to processing and treating detainees. But the timing of the Gitmo transfer stinks to high hell and should be an all too obvious political ploy. I grow weary of hearing myself climb atop a soap box to deride public officials in their prosecution of the War on Terror-- but it pales in comparison to the evident emphasis on political calculations rather than the aggressive pursuit of those who wish us harm.

More later.

Fall Line Up

2006-09-06T11:30:00.000-05:00

Pentagon issuing new interrogation manual

"Dogs, hoods and simulated drowning to be banned; three techniques added"

Can't wait for the three newbies to be unveiled. The new Fall Line Up! Exciting....

Also in the news: Bush to unveil plan for Gitmo trials.

So, to clarify... the Armed Forces won't be allowed to use some of the interrogation techniques that made Gitmo and Abu Gharib infamous, but just for good measure... let's keep the trials of Gitmo detainees quiet.

"We want to bring to justice those who are detained there," Snow said.

Uh huh. Yeah, that would involve a fair trial. Or letting said detainees know what they were being held for FIVE YEARS AGO. I've said it before and I'll say it again: if those inmates are that dangerous and the evidence is so strong, then get your ass in gear and try them already. But that's not the point, is it?

Crazy Motherfucker?

2006-09-04T11:27:00.000-05:00

Crazy, no. Talking out of his ass, yes.

Check out the video culled by Norm Jensen on his blog One Good Move (click the link or the photo above)

Oh, and the quote of the day is: "he was accused of getting too close to penguins..."

R.I.P. Irwin, you crazy motherfucker.

COPS: Riverwest

2006-08-27T13:34:00.000-05:00

Weeeeeeee..... last night was interesting.

Josh rolled up to visit. We promptly hit the liquor store right before the magical Blue Law closing hour and secured a twelve pack of High life and a big goddamned bottle of Guinness. For the record, said liquor store sucks in terms of selection. Thus the Miller purchase. It doesn't suck as much as Milwaukee's Best Light.

We were men on a mission. Determined to enjoy a hearty night of libations, we set forth on consumption of frothy brews while watching the pilot episode of The Amazing Screw-On Head. Then, at the predetermined hour, we embarked on a magical voyage to the video store... to take in some live music. Tony (one of the screen printers at work) was slated to deliver some one-man band action for the denizens of DVD land, along with awesomely spastic rapper Juice Boxx. We rolled into the store while Tony was setting up, so we hung around looking through foreign movie and thumbing through leaflets.

Suddenly a commotion is occurring outside. I look up just in time to catch a guy running by the store, and he's being pursued by another man yelling "STOP HIM!!" and "call the police!!". By this time a small crowd has congregated on the other side of the window in anticipation of the live music. I shimmy out the door and follow the Tom & Jerry scene. They hook down the alley next to Fuel, and I pursue.

I catch up with our man "STOP!" and ask him what the hell is going on. He's clearly tired from running and amped up at the same time. "He robbed my store the other night! I called the cops... I have him on video!!" And at this point, I officially switch into Wife Beater mode. It's the only when I truly think on my feet and without hesitation.

The store owner saying "I'm tired..." as I'm already tearing down a side alley. I have only a fleeting visual, but I'm able to gauge that the suspect is 5'9" and weighs around 160. In good shape too.

Anyways, I give chase. I pop out on Bremen, and the bouncers at Foundation are yelling from across the street "he's between the houses!" So I dart up a sidewalk and between the two houses.

I should note a couple of things at this point:
1. I'm chasing a man that's accused of robbing a store, but I have no clue if he's actually guilty. Under heightened circumstances, he could have mistaken this man for his robber. I'm pretty sure that's not the case, but I have no call to catch this man and go to town on him. So at best, I can only catch up with him and see if he engages me. Then I can go to work if it's called for. Otherwise I want to ascertain as much information as possible and hold him for the authorities if necessary.
2. I'm dancing with this notion as I'm pursuing a presumed robber between houses. If he is a criminal, and I corner him, things could get ugly. I recognize this. And I truly don't care. I'm prepared.

The suspect entered a fenced-off back yard... eight foot wooden slates that I can't see through, and the gate is closed. I don't know if the backyard is a dead-end or not. I don't know if my boy Sprint on the other side of the gate waiting to turn the tables. I quickly calculate the danger and kick that fucking gate in, then proceed to enter rapidly with body bladed in order to give him less of a target. Ever see a cop enter a room with that sideways entry? That's me, and full of testosterone.

I'm in the yard. And he's not. I hear a gate somewhere in the rear slap shut. Shit. There's a way out, and he's using it.

At this point, Sprint has hooked a left back into the alley next to Fuel. He runs right by a congregation of people asking what's going on. In their defense, they didn't know what was going on, let alone who to stop. One of them asks "who are we looking for? For all we know, that could be him" as Sprint runs by. To which Sprint replies "me? I'm just out for a jog!". Seriously.

I barrel out into the alley, see that's he's just run by no less than four people and ask "why didn't you stop him!?" Again.. these folks hadn't been debriefed. I can't fault them for that.

I run out to Center Street. I am now back in front of the video store, where onlookers have gathered and wonder what the hell is occurring. I ask a girl "where'd he go!", and she points me in the direction of Bremen St, this time going south. I open up and do a Terminator 2 style run. That daily bike ride to work has paid off.

But it was not to be. The kid was long gone.

Meanwhile, the store owner has jumped into his big ass pick-up truck and started doing circles around the block... the wrong block. He missed which way the guy fled in all of the confusion. I return to the video store where patrons are eyeing me with suspicion and talking about my mad dash in hushed tones. No one has a clue what the hell is going on, and I'm still not up to date on what happened with this robbery.

The store owner continues doing his circles around the block. He's amped up, and the kid is long gone. Plus an unmarked squad has just rolled in (am I the only one that recognizes undercover police cars?), so there's little point in more frantic action. All the same, Josh and I run a foot patrol through on of the alley that I lost him in, split at a t-junction and meet back up at the store. Nothing.

The store owner now pulls his truck over and parks in front of the alley across from foundation. He has run his truck out of gas, so he hops out and continues his search on foot. I debrief him on which he the kid went and try to pump him for more information on the robbery. What follow is pieced together through a couple of exchanges with him:
-said thief, came into his store the other day while a slow clerk was manning the register
-said thief reached over the counter while the clerk was distracted and took the cordless phone.

Yep. There's the heist.

But let's face fact: Sprint was probably casing the joint, or he didn't have time to grab something else. Nonetheless, I have just been informed that I have been chasing a phone bandit.

What else?
-the store owner has footage of the incident from two different angles, knows about the theft and files a report with MPD
-the store owner acknowledges that it's a petty theft, but points out that the thief in question has just been released from jail and is presently wanted on a warrant. What that warrant is I don't know. Could be robbery, could be bail jumping. Maybe he took a dump on the salad bar at the Ponderosa. Hell if I know
-the thief's name is Reggie. He's local, and he's even talked to the clerk before
-the store owner questions why Reggie would bother stealing his cordless phone, since it will only work within the vicinity of the store
-the store owner decided to roll by his shop around the time Josh and I head over to watch Tony play, just to see if this guy is dumb enough to try to use the phone. Sure enough, Reggie is sitting on the front steps of the store making a call with the phone
-the store owner claims that he jumped out of his truck and kicked the guy in the face. Josh and I are skeptical since the guy was able to flee, speak and even crack jokes in remarkably intact fashion
-the perp chucks the phone at him and the pursuit begins

So there you have it: Rampant phone thievery.

I do have one more thing to add... I love Riverwest. It is both the most diverse yet neighborly comminity that I've resided in in Milwaukee. That said, it has a crime problem. I've spoken to three people that have been jumped, and car break-ins are the norm. I've heard a few times over "hey man... just take everything of value out of car, and leave the doors unlocked... then they won't smash your windows to get in the car!"

That may be the case, but it may also follow that cars are targeted in Riverwest because people are making it easier to break into them. I'd be unconcerned if this as a secret, but it's common knowledge.

My other gripe? People here are friendly, but they may err to pacificism *a bit too much*. I'm sorry, but some people here just look like targets. There's a certain presence that one has to exude on the streets to avoid being a victim, and I rarely see it here.

What's more, I'm disheartened by the lack of action on the part of bystanders last night. True, some of them didn't know what was happening. But some of them were handed the same information I was. And if a shopkeeper tells me he's been robbed, then goddamnit, I'm going after the man he in question. I precede with caution and a healthy dose of skepticism, but I don't stand there with a thumb up my ass either. Yes, it was a petty crime. But it many not be the next something like this occurs

Like I said: I wanted to catch up with the guy and simply see if he was going to engage me. If so, it's a pretty clear indication that somethings not right, though far from conclusive. If not, I wanted to ask him "hey, what the hell is going on". If he was reasonable, then we'd chat. If he chose combat, then I'm prepared for that too. I prefer a well-reasoned response that is proportinate to the threat. I don't want a boot camp mentaltity, just enough moxy to say "we're laid back, but if you're going to pull some shit, we won't take it"

I'd like to see the same from my compatriots. I'm not saying let's start KICKING SOME ASS! I'm saying let's not stand aside. This is a great community, and we're all in it together. Let's protect one another. I'm here for you. I want to know that you'd do the same for me.

Another One Goes By
By The Walkmen

from a Hundred Miles Off

"The day ain't over yet..."

2006-08-24T22:17:00.000-05:00

The war machine springs to life
Opens up one eager eye...

What sort of mood must I be in that I resort to quoting kitsh 80's songs? A GOOD one.

My employers are finally on the verge of leaving for the trade show in Vegas. They've had J2 and I running in circles for the last four weeks solid, and it finally culminates with one psychotic push to finish samples tomorrow.

Hell, my bosses have wanted to suspend me for the last three months but have been unable to due to critical workload up until this coming week. They don't seem to care about which day in the coming week that is... can we say four day weekend? I've learned my lesson!

But what does that mean to you, dear reader?

Counter-Productive time.

New strip Wednesday.

There has to be. We've got deadlines.

further proof that I am utterly incapable of making a bizarre "YEEEAAHHHH!!!!" expression when photographed by someone other than myself

Earthquake Weather
By Beck

from the Guero

Hibernation....

2006-08-21T23:31:00.000-05:00

(Another find by Dave)

Hibernation is nearing it's end.

say what you want about me and the frequency of strips. We keep coming back, year after year after year.

It's the time of year of again, and Dave and I plan on crashing through your wall like the Kool-Aid jug.

New copies of the Counter-Productive books can be found on the shelf at Fuel Cafe or online at ComiXPress (who I still owe some Spotted Cow for their tireless efforts)

For my part, I've settled into my new digs in Riverwest. It's not quite where I had expected to end up... it's a long story, and one that I'll opt to skip... but in the end, everything is working out better than I had expected.

To any and all of you who may believe that I am snubbing you, rest assured, that is not the case. I have only recently recovered my office fixtures from storage and re-acquired the internet (and the tubes necessary to make it function). I have no functional phone as of yet, so bare with me.

My employers continue to push the art department to the hilt in preparation of a trade show in Vegas, and I only expect the workflow to return to normal following this week. On an additional note, fuck those guys. But hey, at least Urban Outfitters digs the shit I designed. That's right: the store I railed against in college approves of my old-looking tongue-in-cheek t-shirt designs. Ahhh.... my soul has not been sold, but evidently it can be rented cheaply enough.

More bulletins as events warrant.

This weekend in Chicago!

2006-08-03T17:00:00.000-05:00

I'll be strapping on my fanboy waders and delving deep into the heart of geekiness this weekend. Just a friendly reminder to those of you attending Wizard World Chicago: Dave and I will be set up all weekend in the Artist's Alley inside of said comic convention.

We'll be heralding the release of the new Counter-Productive book within the lengthy corridors of pop culture references and Kevin Smith acolytes. Feel free to drop by and say hi!

Counter-Productive: Your First, Last and Only Line of Defense in Sequential Art

Today's strip

2006-07-25T08:14:00.000-05:00

Click above for larger version

I'm also working on the large-scale color version of this strip. Click here to see older strips.

Reflexively

2006-07-21T14:22:00.000-05:00

Craptastic.

2006-07-19T09:40:00.000-05:00

Dave has some bad news:
Viacom may acquire The Onion

Ahhhhhhhhh shit.

I don't buy that whole "well, the Daily Show hasn't been watered down" thing. The Daily Show doesn't show up free on the local street corner.

And does anyone believe that the paper that fired the opening comedic salvo following September 11th would be allowed to do anything comparable under corporate ownership?

Pay for play is inevitable component in an acquisition such as this. I can't imagine a company like Viacom letting the Onion remain free for anyone to take from a newsstand. That will remove a lot of the poignancy of the paper.

And don't forget the effect corporate ownership will have on the reviews in the A.V. Club. Bye-bye relevance.

If this is true, it will be shittiest media merger of the last ten years. I can't help but believe that the Onion helped foster such bastard children as the Daily Show and the Colbert Report in the first place. It is in essence and function the embodiment of anti-establishment. The entire idea of taking spun news and unspinning it through the act of satire has been done before, but the Onion will leave a hole in the cultural landscape that will not be quickly filled.

Better
By Regina Spektor

from the Begin to Hope

The Fearsome Catamaran Bratwurst

2006-07-12T12:00:00.000-05:00

Behold, the The Fearsome Catamaran Bratwurst. Food combinations become stranger as I scrape out the stragetic reserve of food in the freezer. Payday can't come fast enough!

40 grand in the hole
scraping my dreams out of the sugar bowl
my love for you’s corrupt
write down the words and then I snort them up

when will I love someone?
When will someone be mine?
40 grand in the hole
I’m gonna open it up and let my yearning shine

Hours that I have slept
Slumping down down like a narcolept
Surrendering to joy
Standing in line at Teriyaki Boy

When will I hear the click?
When will I know that it is time to split?
What is the use of it?
What is my life without the heart at risk?

By the way, this song isn't depressing. I like the blues feel of it.

Lyrics from
40 Grand In The Hole
By Mike Doughty

from the Rockity Roll EP
over and over and over...

New Orleans

2006-07-09T22:17:00.000-05:00

Readers of Counter-Productive may or may not know this, but each primary character in the strip represents one of my close friends. Quite obviously, co-writer David Schrubbe is Dave. I am Oddball, Josh Muhlenbeck is The Cleaner, Lucien Knuteson is Coen and H-Bomb is Hali Garrett.

Hali has been camped out in New Orleans in for some time now, and you can see some intriguing images of the Big Easy on her blog.

It seems that the only stories that we in the Midwest hear about the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina are the ones involving people bilking the government out of compensation money. This only feeds the "they" got what "they" deserved for not leaving attitude that seems to permeate some of the citizenry, and can be seen manifesting itself in internet photoshop jobs of the infamous NOLA looter doing any manner of vapid things. It's stupefying that this would be the one enduring image of a catastrophe that has ruined countless lives and continues to play out to this day.

It's almost convenient for those of us far away to forget that we speak of an American city that is still broken, and it's jarring to see that the city is very much in disarray. More than that, Hali illuminates the very humanity that defines the struggle that's unfolding there. She's truly one of the more incredible and selfless individuals that I have had the good fortune of befriending.

(Hali in the middle) Photo taken by Karolyn Wong

Photo taken by Ted Cash

Currently listening to:
St. Elsewhere
By Gnarls Barkley

Smiley Faces
over and over and over...

A Dissertation on Floppy Shoes

2006-07-06T22:39:00.000-05:00

An old comic by the brilliant Jeff Sorley

I've learned something about myself. The self image which I harbor paints me as a steely individual, perhaps annoyed but rarely frightened by most things I should find menacing.

But there is one thing that frightens me. There is one thing that scares the living shit of me: karaoke.

And clowns.

Clowns and karaoke.

Most terrifying of all would be a clown karaoke bar, replete with black velvet paintings of average looking people doing non-remarkable things such as mow their lawns and eat at Applebees.

Currently listening to:
Employment
By Kaiser Chiefs

Oh My God

and yes, I finally stopped playing I Predict A Riot
over and over and over...

One of these things is not like the other...

2006-07-04T22:47:00.000-05:00

Currently listening to:
Gulag Orkestar
By Beirut

Postcards From Italy

Hungover.

2006-07-03T09:57:00.000-05:00

Last night was a good night, though it didn't end until sometime around 3:00 or 4:00. Makes me wish that I had taken today off from work. Ugh.

Sunday saw Club Garibaldi play host to the Brewcity Bruisers after-party, replete with karaoke. Tim and I trooped over and proceeded to put down four pitchers of Harp and sing songs to a roomful of roller girls.

Tim garnered a positive response from the crowd by singing Secret agent Man and singing it well. He even had people dancing.

I pulled a Shatner on Rocketman. Chaos ensued, and we all learned a valuabe lesson: keep me away from copious amounts of booze and an open microphone.

Note to self: pick a song that I can sing well yet has a touch of comedic value, instead of running a gag two minutes past the point of freshness. That, or brace for another tackle with pigtails.

Currently listening to:
Black Holes and Revelations
By Muse

I highly recommend Supermassive Black Hole.
Catchy. Reminds me of Black Cat though.

You can't get there from here

2006-07-02T17:50:00.000-05:00

An Open Letter to the Motorists of Wisconsin:

Good day. I'm so glad to see that you could all make it.

I realize that many of you have places to go. It is a holiday weekend, and I wouldn't want to inhibit any of you from going to where you need to be.

Problem is, I cannot say with any certainty that you know where the hell that is. Perhaps a bit more planning is required before you hit the freeway.

And that's cool. I don't always know exactly what exit I'm supposed to be using when visiting friends in far-flung locales. Perhaps you're looking for your 47th Culver's Custard. Collect 'em all, I say.

Just do me a favor: stay out of the left lane.

If you're not sure where you are heading, much less where you just came from, stay out of the left lane. This seems to be an impediment indigenous only to my colleagues here in the Dairy State. The left lane, unless marked otherwise, is for faster traffic. That's me. The other two lanes? All yours. Slow down to 15 MPH and have yourselves an makeshift Fourth of July parade there for all I care. Just stay out of the left lane.

After all, I have to hit Warp 9 so I can give those Illinois tourists tailgating me a lesson in "offensive" driving.

Yours in Speed Demonery,
-J. Jason Groschopf

PS I'll be the one in the gently abused Little Focus That Could But Probably Shouldn't.
Watch me now.

Currently listening to:
the Private Press
By DJ Shadow

specifically Mashin' on the Motorway,
my new "traveling music".

Heh.

2006-07-02T17:42:00.000-05:00

I guess Ali G wasn't ready for the big screen...

Important Safety Tip

2006-07-02T11:57:00.000-05:00

If you ever go to a bar with black lights, let's say for instance a goth bar, don't wear your blue jeans. Black lights will light your trousers up and draw attention to them in a way not replicable if you had chosen darker attire.

And if you do wear your blue jeans anyways? Say you didn't consider the lighting ahead of time... make sure there aren't stains on them.

I'm not talking about stains detectable by the human eye. Oh no. Because those types of stains would be reason not to wear the pants in question.

No, evidently I'm talking about the kind of stains you get from cleaning the back of a car with carpet cleaner after a beer bottle has broken free from a cooler and shattered. You pick up the glass, and you set forth on the urgent task of removing Guinness from your gently abused vehicle. You find that you have to lean across the back seat to do so, and in the process you press your crotch up to the seat that is now coated with cleansing product. You finish your task only to find that your pants are dampened, but discolored.

Until you stand under a black light. Then it looks your testicles were splattered in a Gallagher routine gone horribly awry.

Bloody hell.

Oh, and under circumstances should you go into the washroom and hastily attempt to crudely remove the stain with a damp paper towel.

Mind you, these are hypotheticals.

Currently listening to:
Commodore Rock
By Ladytron

Nice four-wheeler

2006-06-30T14:48:00.000-05:00

I guess Humvess are passe now that they're on every United States highway. They used to be cool, but you can't look tough in one now that the Pier One parking lot is awash with them. Thanks yuppies!

If this tough guy emulation keeps up, the military will be using mopeds by next week.

Stickers anyone?

2006-06-30T01:17:00.000-05:00

Prototype freebie sticker. We may be giving these out at the Chicago WizardWorld this year.

BE THERE!!!!

Oh, SNAP!

2006-06-29T23:40:00.000-05:00

Supreme Court blocks Guantanamo trials.

According to the AP, Bush said the ruling "won't cause killers to be put out on the street."

If the prisoners in Gitmo are such a clear and present danger to us, then why don't we try them in a court of law. If they're the biggest names in terror, then surely there's enough compelling evidence with which they could be tried and convicted. It pains me to say this, but the phrase "innocent until proven guilty" applies, even to people that might want to blow you and I up.

Do it by the books.

We've already captured them and extracted whatever information we need. There's no way these people have a clue what's going on outside of that little dog kennel in Cuba, so the interrogation phase has run it's course. Now all that should remain is processing them. Put them in front of a judge and jury. If they're guilty, we lock 'em up and throw away the key. We've skipped the due process part and went straight for lock n' key time, and last I checked, that's not the American way.

(dig the 'no photography' sign in the photograph)

If they're evil enough that they've cause us to circumvent the Geneva Conventions, then they shouldn't stand a chance in front of a proper military court martial, let alone "a regularly constituted court affording all the judicial guarantees which are recognized as indispensable by civilized people." Shit, they shouldn't stand a chance in a traffic court. So what's the hold up? Do it by the books.

The stats according the Guardian:

-759 detainees have been held in Guantanamo since the US began using the camp in January 2002.
-10 have been charged before US military war crimes tribunals for conspiring with al-Qaida.
-Officially there have been 41 suicide attempts by 25 detainees since January 2002. Defence lawyers believe the number to be much higher.
-18 inmates are on hunger strike, down from a total of 131.
-55% of detainees have not engaged in any hostile act against the US or its allies.
-60% are "associated with", 30% are "members of", 8% "fighters for" and 2% have no identified connection to a terrorist group.

The Fourth of July is upon us. There will be a lot of flags flapping in the wind and much banter about how we're the greatest country in the world. Let's prove it. If we're the greatest, then our behavior must reflect that, not just our rhetoric. Justice for all, even the people who may not deserve it. I know it stings, but it's what we as the better people must do.

According to the Geneva Conventions, Protocol I, Artcile 85, Section 4e:

The passing of sentences and the carrying out of executions are forbidden unless all the judicial guarantees which are recognized as indispensable by civilized people have been met and a regularly constituted court has pronounced a judgment.

Depriving combatants, prisoners of war, refugees, or medical or religious personnel of a fair trail is a grave breach of the Geneva Convention. )

Don't like the sound of that? Too... French for you? Why should we listen to what some blowhards from around the planet have to say on the nature of a fair trial? After all, we're the United fucking States. We don't have to listen to anyone else.

Maybe we should look at our own of Bill of Rights for inspiration? There's an amendment that applies to fair trials. Some people may be shocked to learn this, but there's, like, a couple more amendments to the Bill of Rights than just that great one about "a well regulated militia". 26 more, apparently.

I refer you to the Sixth Amendment.

In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury of the State and district wherein the crime shall have been committed; which district shall have been previously ascertained by law, and to be informed of the nature and cause of the accusation; to be confronted with the witnesses against him; to have compulsory process for obtaining witnesses in his favor, and to have the assistance of counsel for his defence.

Do you want that flag to be a symbol, or do you actually want it to stand for something?

THAT'S the American way.

Dirty....

2006-06-28T10:04:00.000-05:00

Forgive me, for I am blurry eyed as I compose this blog at work. I haven't the time for revisions, so I hope this post doesn't seem hackneyed as a result. Cope, you exacting bastards.

I was working on the new C-P book earlier this week. It contains strips from the last year, and I have to say, the number of politically divisive strips is about equal to the number of genital jokes.

I was perplexed by this at first. I had been really annoyed with myself for running what seemed like an endless stream of dick-relates punchlines. I thought maybe all of my humor and Dave's humor revolved around the state of someone's naughty bits. It's true to some extent, but not to which you see it manifest itself in this last year of comics.

After some careful consideration, I came upon the reason of the percentile discrepancy: Its much faster to execute a hastily cobbled-together dick joke than to create a brand new fully rendered comic strip. If you look closely at all the sex joke strips, they consist of parts that are re-used over and over and over again. The more thoughtful jokes usually took the form of story lines or would involve strips that would play on a theme for a whole week.

This is the unfortunate consequence of having a day job and trying to do a strip on the side. Our strips take a very long time to execute, sometimes taking as much as thirty to forty hours out of my week.

And it all becomes clear.

I felt dirty as I pooled through some of the strips, but not for long. After all, as Lenny Bruce once observed, "If God made the body, and the body is dirty, then the fault lies with the manufacturer."

Don't worry.

2006-06-26T12:34:00.000-05:00

Jokes are on the way.

Like an egg....

2006-06-25T22:42:00.000-05:00

If you're looking for comedy or nuanced political outbursts, then this post isn't for you. Keep moving Paco.
__

I've been seeing the cat out of the corner of my eye all day now. That would be fine and dandy hadn't he been shipped out. The cat's been gone for a month now.

I have to be out of my current apartment at the end of July. I didn't want to move before. I happen to like my apartment and it's location. But it's becoming all too clear that I'm living in a haunted house. It gets worse everyday. This is house is too big.

It's at it's worst at night. The bedroom door will creak in the middle of the night. I wake up, not entirely clear of surroundings or circumstances. I find myself consistently tucked to one side of the bed. I'm not sure why. Its empty save for me. I'm not saving a spot for anyone. My bed feels as big as a soccer field.

What has transpired had to. I don't question the veracity of my judgment. But there's no longer any doubt in my mind, much less my heart, that this was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. And this is so because it was not and is not a singular event. My emotional strain is not confined to one day or one event. It is ongoing.

Every day I spend in this house is like watching a tape of my life from the past year. A fridge full of condiments. An empty wardrobe. Bedsheets hung over the window where once there were curtains. A hastily patched hole where I had punched the wall. An ornate shower curtain that remains at odds with my sparse toiletries. A house that is eerily clean. A room undisturbed by the bustle of human commotion. Frames that lay face down with dust gently collecting on their backs.

I walk the lengthy corridors of my own museum daily. The echo of my footsteps are all that fill the pristine emptiness.

I can't look at anything without making some kind of association. A void only reminds me of what was once there. Regardless of the connotation of the memory, the result is always the same. I remain remarkably upright, yet I have never felt so alone in my life. My self assurance provides only cold comfort. I want so much to be assuaged, yet I can not permit anyone to come close to me.

Allow my to rephrase my earlier claim. The house is not haunted. I am.

I am not psychologically crippled. Indeed, I find my coping mechanisms to be in top form. It is because I deal with the situation so well that I'm constantly reminded of it. I do not wish to block it out. I find that I have to let everything in, process it, and let it flow through me. I won't allow myself to shut-down like I have in the past. I will ensure that my wounds heal properly. The only way I can do that is by looking things head-on. But I also fear that spending too much time here will eventually get the better of me. And so it is that I shall not renew my lease. Onward.

I know I mustn't be fast and loose with my blogs. I don't wish to say too much for all the world to see. I don't want to slight or perturb someone or raise any kind of false hopes. I've been reluctant to show how much this is affecting me. Even now I'm tight-lipped. My concern up until now has genuinely been for someone else, as arcane as that may sound in light of all that has transpired.

I must help myself. I have to let it out. I have to keep moving. I have to walk it off. So here it is. Not a cry for help, but a catharsis. We did the right thing, and it hurts like hell. Ours was an essential decision. We could go no further. I could go no further. And it kills me. It pulls at me ever day and attempts to break me.

So be it.

If I am haunted, then I also have the luxury of being a Ghostbuster. I stand fast with my logic, yet I also know that living a life without my heart at risk is a life not worth living. I will not numb myself to the pain, and I will not stew in it either.

But I do have to get out of this apartment.

Besides, the fridge is broken and the next-door neighbors are pituitary retards.

This just in from Dave....

2006-06-25T16:20:00.000-05:00

Clowns Sabotage Nuke Missile

I still haven't made it all the way through the article because I'm laughing my ass off.

Seriously though, these are the type of religious folk that I could get down with. No, really.

"We dress as clowns to show that humor and laughter are key elements in the struggle to transform the structures of destruction and death," the statement said. "Saint Paul said that we are 'fools for God's sake,' and we say that we are 'fools for God and humanity.' Clowns as court jesters were sometimes the only ones able to survive after speaking truth to authorities in power."

YES. Right on.

From their June 20th press release:A Roman Catholic Priest and two Veterans went to a Minuteman III silo this morning and began to disarm the nuclear weapon using hammers. Reverend Carl Kabat, OMI, Gregory Boertje-Obed, and Michael Walli entered the E-9 missile silo on the Mandan, Hidatsa, Arikara Nation in North Dakota about 75 miles southwest of Minot. Using a sledgehammer and household hammers, they disabled the lock on the personnel entry hatch that provides access to the warhead and they hammered on the silo lid that covers the 300 kiloton nuclear warhead that is targeted and ready to launch. The activists painted "It's a sin to build a nuclear weapon" on the face of the 110-ton hardened silo cover and the peace activists poured their blood on the missile lid.

{fast forward}

Speaking from jail, Greg Boertje-Obed, from Duluth, Minnesota, explained, "I believe Jesus led us to do this witness based on his teachings of intervening for the sake of the poor. These weapons are killing us and the poor today. I believe this plowshares action is a natural extension of our Catholic Worker mission which is hospitality, providing for the needs of the poor, and defending the poor."

My God... Christians that aren't obsessed with banning gay marriage or telling me that the Earth is 12,000 years old? Perhaps they are. That article doesn't tell me their stance on that. but it does tell me that they non-violently advocate for peace by way of nuclear disarmament. That's so... so... Christ-like. they seem to undertsand that whole King of Peace thing.

You guys need to make a hell of a lot more noise, because the Falwells of the world are messing it up for anyone with a crucifix.