tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16735120507184597782024-03-05T02:40:01.263-05:00Meet Adam JonesAn inappropriate blog for an inappropriate man.Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.comBlogger155125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-10759324256464150672019-01-01T18:03:00.000-05:002019-01-01T18:03:37.717-05:00Disregard ThatI haven't posted here in quite some time, and I don't anticipate coming back again with any regularity. I was going through a nostalgia trip and remembered this blog. When I went through and looked at a good many of the posts I've made here I was stricken by how much I've changed and grown.<br />
<br />
Most people want to improve and that's good. The thing about that, though, is when you look back at yourself, you might often wish you had never been that way. I was very upfront from the beginning about being inappropriate, but it was meant to be in an almost charming disregard for the most meaningless of our social restrictions sort of way. Not in any dehumanizing disregard for the respect or well-being of oppressed peoples kind of way. It's strange to think that myself and the social landscape has changed so much in the last 8, even 3 years, but here we are.<br />
<br />
I made a lot of comments and assertions in this blog that I would never make today, not because I'd be afraid of repercussions, but because I no longer think that way. I'm not going to take any of them down because I believe that it's important to acknowledge the past and learn from it rather than sweep it under the rug. I have learned, and hope to learn much more. I don't really expect anyone to ever stumble across this page, so this is message is mostly for me.<br />
<br />
Continue to grow.<br />
<br />
Be better.Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-18513472128793791362015-10-30T04:18:00.000-04:002015-10-30T04:18:06.046-04:00A Letter of Thanks for an Underappreciated Service<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The art of
the long-form letter is dead.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Or, if not
dead, being kept alive only through artificial means; <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Against the
express wishes of its DNR. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
A friend of
mine collects pen-pals.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Still. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In this day
and age. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
They
hand-write their letters and send each other chocolates from across various
oceans. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I don’t know
where to buy stamps.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I’m not
saying I couldn’t Google it, I’m just saying I’d have to. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When I was
young, I was fascinated by handwriting analysis. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
You can tell
so much about a person by the way they push the tip of a pen across paper,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And I was
always so desperate to glean insight into humanity.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I prefer
typing. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It’s not
that I want to hide my nature,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It’s that I’d
rather be judged on what I deliberately state,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Rather than
on what I subconsciously imply. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There’s no
stopping that, of course, but the illusion of control is important. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I would have
sent you a letter,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
If I had
your address,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Or knew
where to buy stamps,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And doing so
wouldn’t be so bizarre. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So instead, there's this. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I’ve been
dating occasionally. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It’s not
terribly enjoyable, since I don’t like people.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I can like a
person.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There are
several persons whom I enjoy very much.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
People, though,
are terrible. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I wish them
well, but well enough away from me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We talk, but
nothing is said.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There’s a
wellspring of near infinite passion within everyone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Any passion
within them, they don’t share with me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Everything
is flat and empty.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sometimes I
equate it to juggling handfuls of pudding.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It’s cold,
messy, and I’m not sure what I expected to get out of it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I feel it
important to note that I’m sympathetic. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I’m not an
easy person for most people.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
To those
closest to me, I’m an open book; <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Incapable of
the slightest subterfuge. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Others can
never quite seem to put their fingers on me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Which is a shame;
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I rather
like people putting their fingers on me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
No, what I
truly dislike is the duplicitousness of the dance.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I’m told
that a great time was had,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Through a
strained smile beneath hollow eyes. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I agree; <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My face
mirroring theirs. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then we
proceed to never again speak,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And I feel
vaguely unclean. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But you…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
You’re a
layer of fiery charisma and pop-culture references,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Stretched
paper-thin over a skeleton of terror,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And a
shameful history with macaroni and cheese.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Just like
me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There was a
time when I was frustrated,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Not angry or
resentful, <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But
frustrated that you wouldn’t allow me one proper date to conjure up what I was
sure, <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In my
hubris, <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Would have
been a glorious connection. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
But you said
no;<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
You said it
in clear, simple, respectful words. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
You were
honest and open. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And let me
tell you,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Because it’s
the point of this letter,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
That’s still
the best experience I’ve had with dating in a long time. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Thank you. <o:p></o:p></div>
Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-39704041496857545002015-02-11T23:54:00.000-05:002015-02-12T01:14:44.994-05:00Adam Jones vs the Staycation: Part 5<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisKOH8KSYxPrY_KOHCbxclm9dxrBnGfSsGTsaGQGC52Eg-jggW8fSyuoewpWl2BthFC45omRM9P5eMx6_v_KG2mkMm8xV3w1-2800qzIpApYgbD93AxlDgsH6RlkETcOEwTcfekmOabTz0/s1600/pleyades_stardust2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisKOH8KSYxPrY_KOHCbxclm9dxrBnGfSsGTsaGQGC52Eg-jggW8fSyuoewpWl2BthFC45omRM9P5eMx6_v_KG2mkMm8xV3w1-2800qzIpApYgbD93AxlDgsH6RlkETcOEwTcfekmOabTz0/s1600/pleyades_stardust2.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a>I planned on saying that today was another nothing day where nothing of note occurred. One can't expect to have a life where everyday that passes is worthy of drawing in others and reporting. Then I started wondering if maybe that's exactly what life is and that's the point of it all. If life is indeed a brief flash of light between two eternities of darkness, should we not shout out and proclaim every day of it? But that's not what this is about. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Last night an old friend got in touch with me out of nowhere just to tell me how great I was. She said "You are made of star dust and amazing."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Today I worked up the courage to do two things that terrified me.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Today I finished the designs I've been struggling with all week.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Today I had beer, then subsequent coffee with an old friend and reminisced about the best times of the worst times. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I sat down fully convinced that nothing of note had happened since we last spoke.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Wow, I can be such an asshole sometimes. </div>
Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-63584047605170274062015-02-10T23:29:00.000-05:002015-02-10T23:31:30.398-05:00Adam Jones vs the Staycation: Part 4<div style="text-align: justify;">
Caution: The following post contains tasteful old-timey artist renditions of nudity.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I felt a lot better today and got some more design work done today, but again, that wasn't the important part. The important part was that a good friend of mine was off of work today and spent many hours on the phone with me engaging in delightful shenanigans. The best part of which is when we got drunk and over the phone began googling images of 18th century erotica. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I truly, truly wish I felt comfortable sharing everything I found with you. There was one image of what I can only describe as a man riding a cockstridge, greeting his lady and waving at a cherub flying overhead. Magnificent. However, I will show you the image that had me laughing the hardest It wasn't even erotica. I will explain, but first... the image:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkRa2TTaaWvpZtcSLudFdTYmvwEWVZjpa8XCf_aSojLuVqnblkKnxQQC6UE86UY12sfUU10QJ547bbofzgedRvL_M-kHSutlhNjM4PtxHk0HZXpAm62b4mkA3H_ew5oh-hf3tARQWwJ4h8/s1600/Take+This+Fish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkRa2TTaaWvpZtcSLudFdTYmvwEWVZjpa8XCf_aSojLuVqnblkKnxQQC6UE86UY12sfUU10QJ547bbofzgedRvL_M-kHSutlhNjM4PtxHk0HZXpAm62b4mkA3H_ew5oh-hf3tARQWwJ4h8/s1600/Take+This+Fish.jpg" height="294" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
That baby in the water? That baby is fucking done. Whatever bullshit he had just endured in the last several seconds has rendered him unable to even. He just can't anymore. He's like "Dude, I'm out. Just take this fucking fish and go." </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There even seems to be this whole rescue effort as the other cherub flies down to get his, and there's a third one in the bushes as lookout. The angel is even running direct interference, keeping that lady distracted while they save their downed comrade. Not that it matters. That lady can't even be bothered by the fact that she's getting felt up by an angel. Her expression only says to me that she's vaguely wondering what her servants are making for dinner... and that fucking wet baby... </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRQstp7S4M5ldzts8c8q8kBH5isClKJ1X5IecMSDoOxiJpey9VnezNrLSBeiq_MX0JLe-mGR6D9m_PsYzNhCnF2H4a893DFQ6nJ8sygo7p9R5hBJioJf9h8gYOYoGOyKbLGghV65WJX-EW/s1600/Take+This+Fish2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRQstp7S4M5ldzts8c8q8kBH5isClKJ1X5IecMSDoOxiJpey9VnezNrLSBeiq_MX0JLe-mGR6D9m_PsYzNhCnF2H4a893DFQ6nJ8sygo7p9R5hBJioJf9h8gYOYoGOyKbLGghV65WJX-EW/s1600/Take+This+Fish2.jpg" height="295" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just take it and go, man. I'm done.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-24957875978613282662015-02-09T23:26:00.001-05:002015-02-09T23:26:41.974-05:00Adam Jones vs the Staycation: Part 3<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.cutestpaw.com/images/so-tired-4/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdZWn_wYEVwl4j9ZF9nj8Ml9lhgHxnOthfKEmC2hxo9BLKqeuzo5mAoQLb0jRsjJ-_e5WHNCrLWXczkuUak1XlBBxfy7u-Ide8UUiY8I5Cd8S44lr_0Q4OELUHWwApkfeRA31FAMxodlxc/s1600/l-So-tired.jpg" height="317" title="Dog Tired" width="320" /></a><span id="goog_1536428323"></span><span id="goog_1536428324"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a>I managed to get some good design work done today, and I had dinner with a good friend, but all day I just couldn't shake the feeling of being completely exhausted. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'm hoping that this is a result of starting to let go of some of the stress that has been pushing me through the last six months, and that tomorrow will be better. I really don't want to feel like this for the rest of the week. Although I refuse to let it weigh me down, there is a lot I would prefer to get done with this time off, and today's level of exhaustion would simply not allow for it. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
...</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
...</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I've been sitting here for a while trying to find a way to cap this off with something funny...</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's not working.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
See you tomorrow!</div>
Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-8406289280141021662015-02-08T22:36:00.000-05:002015-02-08T22:40:36.070-05:00Adam Jones vs the Staycation: Part 2<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikuRS9KuGf64_ZgqSSTt1Zh8HzwR5tAW3rGjK4ZqzXXwiFqYC-1Ml2o-pxa_bgzTJBv257irUUs1GtEVBzDmb868LRFL7xskm1V0zUk7o_GQ06Tz2hLTM-XClla-eibngyKZduTfife9fM/s1600/background.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikuRS9KuGf64_ZgqSSTt1Zh8HzwR5tAW3rGjK4ZqzXXwiFqYC-1Ml2o-pxa_bgzTJBv257irUUs1GtEVBzDmb868LRFL7xskm1V0zUk7o_GQ06Tz2hLTM-XClla-eibngyKZduTfife9fM/s1600/background.jpg" height="271" width="320" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I got a few productive things done today. That's not the important part. The important part is that I picked up issue #2 of the Unbeatable Squirrel Girl. </div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
If you haven't read it, love adorable things, and have an even passing interest in the Marvel universe, I implore you to pick up the first couple of issues. It's not too late. There's no overly complicated sea of lore to swim through to get it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Squirrel_Girl" target="_blank">Squirrel Girl</a> is a third-string superhero who used to work for the Great Lakes Avengers, lived in the Avenger's attic for a while, and now is moving out to college. The title picks up there. Despite having a power set pretty much limited to the relative strength and agility of a squirrel, combined with what I can only refer to as squirrelepathy, she has taken down some A-list baddies in her day.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Issue #2 revolves around her trying to get to the moon to fight Galactus. This duty falls to her as no one else can see his arrival, as Galactus' ship is cloaked - but forgot to shield it against squirrels (who are always sneaking into observatories to watch for trouble). One part of one of her plans is to steal a pile of parts of old Iron Man suits and try to convince them to cover her and her best squirrel friend Tippy-Toe so they can fly to the moon.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
ARE YOU NOT SOLD YET?!?!</div>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMB6qsZZGA0HK3gUzmxmIf9lD1onqGNte4-e7-xffJIhR0YxUVVQxXzz1W_gU4r2DARkk_7Qy2a_MC-qyon8EL_Q0adNlJSF7WA4eutQZiVRZdX4PhFijCx6Ji0o-YZ5609daFft5x9Dsd/s1600/The-Unbeatable-Squirrel-Girl-Nuevo-Unfiorme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMB6qsZZGA0HK3gUzmxmIf9lD1onqGNte4-e7-xffJIhR0YxUVVQxXzz1W_gU4r2DARkk_7Qy2a_MC-qyon8EL_Q0adNlJSF7WA4eutQZiVRZdX4PhFijCx6Ji0o-YZ5609daFft5x9Dsd/s1600/The-Unbeatable-Squirrel-Girl-Nuevo-Unfiorme.jpg" height="181" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BEHOLD THE MAJESTY</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-72111482054757054932015-02-07T21:18:00.000-05:002015-02-07T21:18:02.253-05:00Adam Jones vs the Staycation: Part 1<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbVcMICFQBfDs0QVU3RS12K4EZhAnLsN4aI4QuS2MsF6czlm-sOFZV1eQTe2iT179Z2aPNvqjfitR-zP0atoe0lbxSwcyxDQk0cL5uZAgaQK1gHjI0FS5DqeO4RNaXuT1JBnvwHGidWhrm/s1600/Cleaning-supplies-1al6xdr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbVcMICFQBfDs0QVU3RS12K4EZhAnLsN4aI4QuS2MsF6czlm-sOFZV1eQTe2iT179Z2aPNvqjfitR-zP0atoe0lbxSwcyxDQk0cL5uZAgaQK1gHjI0FS5DqeO4RNaXuT1JBnvwHGidWhrm/s1600/Cleaning-supplies-1al6xdr.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a>This morning I awoke from a dream where I was at a drunken con party and I was being hit on by a woman in a 19th century ball gown and sunglasses, who was also a midget. So, you know... I knew it was going to be a pretty bitchin' day.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I decided to start off my staycation with a day of Grand Cleansing. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I shaved.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I showered.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I did my laundry.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I washed my dishes.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I dusted my surfaces. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I cleaned my kitchen.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I vacuumed my carpet. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I even meditated and drank a lot of juice, so it was like a triathlon of cleanliness. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Then, in an effort to balance out that much productivity, I was compelled to binge-watch Constantine. I have to say, I like the show so far, but I'm getting pretty tired of spending 10 minutes every episode on the following exchange: </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Everyone but Zed: Hey, you should leave for your own safety.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Zed: Nuh uh.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Everyone but Zed: Are you sure? You're very likely to die horrifically.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Zed: Nope. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Everyone but Zed: Oh, okay... I guess. We'll check back next week.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Zed: I have a mysterious past. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So yeah, I feel like I'm off to a pretty good start. Feeling better already.</div>
Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-86097555493735848802015-02-04T15:28:00.000-05:002015-02-04T15:28:08.314-05:00Adam Jones vs the Staycation: Part 0<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/16045047-penguin-on-vacation" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="It's a book!" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBE3LDpHkfyEs4Vre4blycS1tYDcbb2L8OwiCgyJjrcRvEm0mf2O22dYfYLAe4O7mQ_sgCio__RMn95qb6fJhlP5GyfJBfoSnLSXJjVMa2QSkBPIIbyBtScI0Y2cdtMiBUfQxDlDvLssQa/s1600/16045047.jpg" /></a>I'm going on vacation!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Not a Sunning by the Beach or Gambling in Vegas kind of vacation, I'm still getting my finances together. Instead, it's more of a My Job is Starting to Make me Cry and I Have Some FDO Saved Up kind of vacation!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'm looking forward to getting back to my roots with such activities as:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sleeping!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Eating!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Excessively viewing pornography!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Then I plan to appeal to my higher nature by indulging in such things as:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Writing!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Crafting!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Exercising! </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have been working diligently on making my life a better place to be and all of next week is going to be a workshop in better living. Part of this project is that I've decided to write a new post for every day next week, including the bracketing weekends!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So, I'll be spending my vacation with all of my favorite people: You!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Whew, I have used, just... SO many exclamation points today. I'm going to need a minute to recover from all this excitement. I'll see you Saturday. </div>
<br />Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-43057500668524469882013-12-11T23:58:00.001-05:002013-12-11T23:59:16.630-05:00Hippies and EskimosIt was just after midnight. My mother's first birthday since her murder had just passed. I went out into the cold and rain to run an errand. It had recently been hard to move for any reason at all. Any sense of purpose or passion had drained away months ago. However, hunger still seemed to be a pretty good motivator. I had no money other than the old check in my jacket pocket that I kept forgetting to deposit; that's what led me to the grocery store's ATM.<br />
<br />
The ATM was on my right as I walked in the exit. The entrance is closed at that time of night. On my left was a computer station open to all who wish to submit an employment application for the grocery store, and as such goes mostly unused. That night there was a young man declaring his desire to move food. He was perhaps twenty years old. His hair was brown, long, and stringy. His goatee was scraggly. His T-shirt was faded. His jeans were ripped. His sneakers were green and well-worn. On his head sat a pair of enormous, old-fashioned, 80s-style black headphones. <br />
<br />
His body jerked along with whatever music he was listening to.<br />
<br />
As I began my deposit, the ambient noise of the universe faded away and I heard him quite clearly singing along to his music. I couldn't bring myself to move as my brain processed what it was hearing. This man was singing out loud, off key, word for word the Corky and the Juice Pigs song "Eskimo."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/CwO33oUawM8?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
So, in case you've never heard the song and can't spend three minutes watching pure happiness, the chorus laments the fact that the singer is the only gay Eskimo in his tribe. This song, though delightful, is twenty years old. I don't think anyone's cared about it in fifteen or so.<br />
<br />
But there he was.<br />
<br />
In the middle of a night made cold by wind and melancholy was a single dirty hippie badly singing a song as old as he was to the entire checkout about being lonesome homosexual Inuit. I remained in front of the ATM long after I had finished my transaction, transfixed by the sublime absurdity of the moment.<br />
<br />
The song ended.<br />
<br />
He looked off at the wall behind the monitor and paused. After a moment of reflection he mused out loud to himself "Huh. That song's pretty gay."<br />
<br />
I hastened to the back of the store, where they no longer feel it necessary to light the dairy products at 1:00am, and sat by the yogurt, and laughed. And wept. But mostly laughed.Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-59934865081276906062013-10-13T12:10:00.000-04:002013-10-13T12:10:30.062-04:00Writers Write<div style="text-align: justify;">
The lady down below is Tessa Violet (MeekaKitty) and is one of the most populars on the YouTubes. I have no recollection of learning about her, she just sat, ignored, on by subscription bar for years. I recently decided to cull my subs and went through some of her videos to see if I wanted to keep her around. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I found this video where she talks about being young and getting older. She talks about how great it is that she is regularly maturing and gaining perspective.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/nK8ClqXMjyI" width="480"></iframe>
</div>
<br />
I could not help but consider that in the decade I have lived that she
has not, I stopped being excited about the person I was becoming, and started
making peace with the person I became.
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Writers have this half joke/half mournful plea for help that goes "writers don't choose to write, they have to." One time I asked a poet, "When did you first self-identify as a poet?" and he replied "When I couldn't stop writing poetry."As a final example of this philosophy, let me share with you a poem that writers love sharing:<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://airlighttimespace.com/" target="_blank">air and light and time and space</a> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">"–you know, I’ve either
had a family, a job,</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">something</span> has always been in the</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">way</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">but</span> now</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">I’ve sold my house, I’ve
found this</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">place</span>, a large studio, you should
see the space and</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">the</span> light.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">for</span> the first time in my life
I’m going to have</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">a</span> place and the time to</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">create</span>."</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">no</span> baby, if you’re going to
create</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">you’re</span> going to create whether you
work</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">16 hours a day in a coal
mine</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">or</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">you’re</span> going to create in a small
room with 3 children</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">while</span> you’re on</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">welfare</span>,</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">you’re</span> going to create with part
of your mind and your body blown</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">away</span>,</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">you’re</span> going to create blind</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">crippled</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">demented</span>,</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">you’re</span> going to create with a cat
crawling up your</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">back</span> while</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">the</span> whole city trembles in
earthquake, bombardment,</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">flood</span> and fire.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">baby</span>, air and light and time and
space</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">have</span> nothing to do with it</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">and</span> don’t create anything</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">except</span> maybe a longer life to find</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">new</span> excuses</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="GramE">for</span>.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">© Charles Bukowski, Black
Sparrow Press</span></span></blockquote>
I read things like that and I look at my place in life and in my darker moments I think "well, I guess I'm not a writer after all. All these years have gone by... I'm old enough now that I should be balls deep in my chosen profession... and poetry doesn't force its way out of my hand... I've had air and light and time and space... I've also had 16 hour days, been through earthquakes, floods, fires, had a cat crawling up my back, and have been demented... and I didn't create.<br />
<br />
Writers shout at each other in no uncertain terms that writers write. Always. And, because deep down I'm very stupid, I just now figured out why that is. Writers are a cowardly and superstitious lot. Busy days, bad moods, shiny objects, or a little too much gas can keep a writer from working if they're not careful. We have to tell each other these fairy tails in order to guilt ourselves into turning off Netflix for one goddam minute and get something done. I suspect that if we didn't feel the need to write <i>all</i> of the time, we wouldn't write <i>any</i> of the time.<br />
<br />
So, instead of resigning myself to withering away as a stagnant, non-creative husk, why not get over myself, remember that you're never too old to grow into a better person, and fucking do something.<br />
<br />
Also, because I'm totally into quotes right now, I'll leave you with my favorite quote from a sword:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
The enemy is one -- You are one. What is there to fear? Cast off your fear! Look forward! <i>Go</i> forward! Never stand still. Retreat, and you will age. Hesitate, and you will die. <span style="font-size: small;">-</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="mw-headline" id="Zangetsu_.28.E6.96.AC.E6.9C.88.29"><a class="extiw" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ichigo_Kurosaki#Zangetsu" title="w:Ichigo Kurosaki"> Zangetsu (斬月)</a></span></span></blockquote>
</div>
</div>
Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-16549889961072262352013-10-08T23:46:00.000-04:002013-10-09T00:47:28.046-04:00Untitled Death PostThree weeks ago I got a phone call from the police letting me know that my mother was dead. She had been shot in her sleep by her husband, who then shot himself. No one found them for two weeks.<br />
<br />
I never talked to her all that often, sometimes only once a month, so it wasn't strange that I hadn't heard from her. She didn't call me on my birthday, but I attributed that to her being a forgetful, wacky old broad. Instead she was rotting on her bed near the corpse of her killer.<br />
<br />
I started calling people I knew to tell them. I didn't need anything from them, I just thought that it was the sort of thing friends should know about when it happens. There was a fascinating spectrum of reactions. Some were quiet, some were angry, some were startled, but all were stunned, wanted to help, and had no idea of how to do it. They would fumble over their words and tell me that they didn't know what to say. I told them that it was okay, that no reasonable person could possibly be expected to know what to say. It was strange finding myself comforting my friends who were trying to comfort me. Eventually we all fell back on our standby coping mechanism: Gallows Humor<br />
<br />
There was an impromptu party at my place that night as people kept coming over and no one left. In fact, I barely got a moment to myself for three days as people kept coming by with pies and casseroles, as is custom in the southeast U.S.. All of it was a blur and none of it seemed real, until I got to her house.<br />
<br />
One of the more overwhelming parts of the experience is that I had no idea of what needed to be done, how to do it, or where to start. There was no other family and none of my friends had ever been the ones to deal directly with arrangements. I realized that I needed information. Life insurance, health insurance, car title, utilities... I couldn't even get her out of the examiners office without her Social Security Number, which I didn't know off the top of my head. I was going to have to go to her house and try to find it all.<br />
<br />
Let me start by saying that my mother had many fantastic qualities, however, she was also a slob and a borderline hoarder. Also, in case you didn't know, the police don't get anybody to come clean up when they're done investigating a murder, that's up to you. However, crime scene cleanup guys cost thousands of dollars, and I have approximately no dollars. So the blood and stink of two rotting old people as well as the cats who starved to death and the weeks old litter box were going to be a concern while we were digging through piles of papers, boxes, and knickknacks to find a few sheets of relevant information.<br />
<br />
I find it strange that I've been saying things that I only hear about on television. Like, sometimes I mention a conversation I had with the lead homicide detective. That's not something real people do, that's a TV thing. Also, sometimes you see a person on TV go glass-eyed and say "The blood. There was... so much blood." I totally get that now. There's a lot of blood in a person and on a hardwood floor, it has no where to go. Also, fun fact, when there's that much of it, it doesn't actually dry, it just turns into a dark sludge.. which we know because one of the friends who went with me to the unspeakable horror house slipped in it and nearly fell on his bottom. We knew it was going to be bad, so we brought gloves and masks, and Vicks VapoRub to put in our noses. However, the stench crept through our masks, past our VapoRub, and into our souls. <br />
<br />
There has been a lot of contemplation on the subject, and I may or may not delve deeper into that later, but I just needed to get the gritty horror of it out. Thanks for listening, guys.<br />
<br />
I love you all very much.Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-21014429583493266722013-04-08T23:21:00.000-04:002013-04-09T09:54:48.670-04:00G is for Geek<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmsKBsd0-zPWjbjA5sdRM8wFcJvSo-J91_NvEh_uIgvKHldDr7mxWVXTNUZyVjybYZ7hVtQIyyBepnIacrGJVfl96jdwZf796m8OpXHqVRkjS29LvjHbaMrZdbNLOnV-E10eSOjfB_yEo-/s1600/geek-pride-day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmsKBsd0-zPWjbjA5sdRM8wFcJvSo-J91_NvEh_uIgvKHldDr7mxWVXTNUZyVjybYZ7hVtQIyyBepnIacrGJVfl96jdwZf796m8OpXHqVRkjS29LvjHbaMrZdbNLOnV-E10eSOjfB_yEo-/s320/geek-pride-day.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My 25 is Geek Pride Day. I'm sure I'll be posting about it again when the day gets here.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Until then I have a gripe. A geek gripe. Not a legitimate complaint, mind you.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I consider myself to be the last generation of geeks who grew up when being a geek wasn't cool. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We had video games, but like, Frogger. We had tabletop RPGs, well, we had 2nd edition D&D and World of Darkness for the Goth kids. We had Magic: The Gathering and couldn't imagine a better life.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Kids today, am I right? They have this Wonderland of geek culture to roll around in and it's pretty much all socially acceptable now. We're... we're still working on getting LARPing recognized, but hell, there's even been a movie or two about that. Not flattering ones, but still.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I can't express this enough: I am so happy that things are better now than they used to be. I just can't help but be jealous. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://cyclopeatron.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-16-year-old-niece-is-dm.html" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxPUUTax9WkDinAhrp5ClaG-dPFw8tXfsDpTV-o3rZeIjchdkd_vnkT2q6_X6vE3fcfzjC08-TP5dhsQx4AOQc-jxCjdOz5qOInGpwd_d31lnOvmhnYmeZEMmpzb2kdHX9xrNkZ0gO2uea/s320/niece_dm3_web.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://cyclopeatron.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-16-year-old-niece-is-dm.html" target="_blank">I mean where was this shit when I was in high school?</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Of course, looking back on it, I actually did know a few super-hot nerd girls back then. So I guess being shy and awkward might have been the real culprit. Why can't you people let me blame my failures on things that aren't me?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Are you a geek? Are you picking up what I am putting down? Let me know and join me tomorrow for "<a href="http://www.meetadamjones.com/2013/04/h-is-for-hot-for-con.html" target="_blank">H is for Hot for Con</a>."</div>
Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-31427197661383090932013-04-06T10:44:00.000-04:002013-04-09T07:22:32.348-04:00F is for Falksen<div style="text-align: justify;">
Since I said that this month I would be focusing primarily on a writing theme, I decided to take this opportunity to talk about another author I know. Last time it was about <a href="http://www.meetadamjones.com/2013/04/c-is-for-chocolate.html" target="_blank">chocolate-covered Josh Corin</a>, this time it's about the amazingly delightful G.D. Falksen. I could use all of my positive adjectives on this man, I adore him. Also, he does all the Internets.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNEkBdZd9wVl8kZzV1_Ja3p8K2wQ7z6323mjG67FEc-bUc5kEhRb14MUb8_mEh8U7-S6SPQljhvEaZEwBumqIK_dutMFJrbCetOwJMAo2NgNkllXdNpyJ4VYQxJpfFBYgS65iT3HXUwC9c/s1600/da85df58f830da04661db3239ecc8342.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNEkBdZd9wVl8kZzV1_Ja3p8K2wQ7z6323mjG67FEc-bUc5kEhRb14MUb8_mEh8U7-S6SPQljhvEaZEwBumqIK_dutMFJrbCetOwJMAo2NgNkllXdNpyJ4VYQxJpfFBYgS65iT3HXUwC9c/s320/da85df58f830da04661db3239ecc8342.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/G-D-Falksen/137357242867" target="_blank">Facebook</a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://gdfalksen.com/" target="_blank">GDFalksen.com</a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://plus.google.com/114444117850069051005/posts" target="_blank">Google +</a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://gdfalksen.livejournal.com/" target="_blank">Livejournal</a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://new.livestream.com/accounts/2343491" target="_blank">Livestream</a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.modelmayhem.com/1212390" target="_blank">Model Mayhem</a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.myspace.com/gdfalksen" target="_blank">Myspace</a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://pinterest.com/gdfalksen/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/g.d.%20falksen" target="_blank">Tumbler</a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://twitter.com/gdfalksen" target="_blank">Twitter</a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/G._D._Falksen" target="_blank">Wikipedia</a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/GDFalksen" target="_blank">Youtube</a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And that's just the shit I found without really looking. I swear, if I hadn't met him in person, I'd think he existed exclusively on the internet. I don't know how he gets anything done in between doing all these <i>things</i>.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We crossed paths on the Steampunk circuit. Honestly, in the grand scheme of things, we haven't spent that much time in each other's company, but... cons are a different world, especially when you're working them. There's a lot of stress, a lot of bullshit, and nothing ever, ever goes quite right. The company you keep can keep you sane. This guy right here? Turns every green room into a fuckin' Class Fest. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
He once slept on the floor of my apartment and I once slept on the floor of his hotel room. The difference was that he wasn't too drunk to go anywhere else. That's class. Oh, and he writes. Also, he once sang me this song:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/G2kD1YUtA5o?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Is there anyone that you don't see often, but makes a big impact in your life? And join me Monday, when our topic will be "<a href="http://www.meetadamjones.com/2013/04/my-25-is-geek-pride-day.html" target="_blank">G is for Geek</a>."</div>
Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-11226835800965735632013-04-05T23:48:00.001-04:002013-04-06T10:49:47.430-04:00E is for Editing (out my filth)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9LWBoElx51Z2jWr87zq32R1Zs4tD2Hl6CSsHT6f9kxlKMJK2K0_221kC5OFdJc9iJq9WTasUB8lt-Gn34gKWZnfkGfdWAnuEBFp4wkP4CfmKGZzRY19FJV_oH2LnLOE3j1i988QA65jpj/s1600/crumpled-paper-waste-basket.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9LWBoElx51Z2jWr87zq32R1Zs4tD2Hl6CSsHT6f9kxlKMJK2K0_221kC5OFdJc9iJq9WTasUB8lt-Gn34gKWZnfkGfdWAnuEBFp4wkP4CfmKGZzRY19FJV_oH2LnLOE3j1i988QA65jpj/s320/crumpled-paper-waste-basket.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I consider my blog to be a form of art. Not highfalutin art, mind you, but in the category. I'd say I am to Mark Twain what a street mime is to <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001394/?ref_=tt_cl_t4" target="_blank">Derek Jacobi</a>. Still, as an "artist" I must contend with the age old struggle between expression and entertainment.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Expression: I got things that need saying. However, if I don't pay close attention, I run the risk of turning this into a dry diary filled with shit like "Today I went to the DMV and had to stand in a long line. I forgot my book so it was really boring. The people in line were bored and angry, but the teller was actually pretty nice when I finally got to her. After that I went to go eat a burger." Oh my god, are you still reading? Thank you for not leaving just then.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Entertainment: I want you guys to have a good time and keep coming back. I want you to feel compelled to leave comments and share with your friends. I am an artist and I feel a deep need for you to LOVE ME! So sometimes I find myself on virulent expletive-filled rants about things I don't actually care about, just because I think it might be funny.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Somewhere in the middle you get what I'm going for, but it's a constant dance.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Like this post. I've said all I need to say, but I feel that it lacks pizazz... so I'll leave you with this cover of Comic Action Pizazz:</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMjxdu6_uQYfkxW2Ldbxb8uVmTp5_fJLoC1VOt3xgly8cbmvemMW4X9yKAKukRuxhAVxWvbiYjgBLg3OXMHasJFNrC4zAPZHgwODN16KsQHpXFb0aINyJOE04SdFKnVrsK7f38k7zMgDWj/s1600/Pizazz.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMjxdu6_uQYfkxW2Ldbxb8uVmTp5_fJLoC1VOt3xgly8cbmvemMW4X9yKAKukRuxhAVxWvbiYjgBLg3OXMHasJFNrC4zAPZHgwODN16KsQHpXFb0aINyJOE04SdFKnVrsK7f38k7zMgDWj/s400/Pizazz.JPG" width="282" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pizazz-y!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Let me know what kind of similar struggles you face, and don't forget to come back tomorrow, when out topic will be "<a href="http://www.meetadamjones.com/2013/04/f-is-for-falksen.html" target="_blank">F is for Falksen</a>."</div>
Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-56820175427050046222013-04-04T13:07:00.002-04:002013-04-05T23:49:14.567-04:00D is for Deadpool<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="http://norunn8931.deviantart.com/art/deadpool-315254031?q=gallery%3Anorunn8931%2F33324961&qo=47" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4EsVZ4dhw3a8WUr7gfhPdN0Z28WAsYmhBteFLuyLdUb11jQlzubQaH5gc18sJKT_tKnYykk4JMkoG6N2lv4ew_qYDtuoI1Bv00p1GjA-wxJUdOJtxoqYdr3V0LcX7pOstZtgHpLpK-N89/s320/deadpool_by_norunn8931-d57ozkf.png" width="244" /></a>Maintaining character integrity is crucial to creative writing. There is a razor-thin line between a character's actions being unexpected and unbelievable.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It is also vital to set a tone for the narrative and to stick with it, only deviating during certain key moments in order to provide emphasis for the situation.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And let's not forget the importance of maintaining the continuity of the complex world that you create.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Except that sometimes doing those things is fucking boring as all hell.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
That's why there's Deadpool.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Marvel comics has dozens of ongoing titles. All of them have writers that occasionally have bad ideas that can't fit into their story's continuity. All of those ideas combine to form Deadpool, the Merc with the Mouth.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
He's like the Voltron of stupid... or maybe the Captain Planet of inane. The point is, that Doctor Strange, Master of Black Magic occasionally goes poopsies, and no one is going to bring it up but D-Pooly. Comic books are all about wish fulfillment, right? Well, Deadpool is the incarnation of that part of us that wonders why the Hulk manages to keep his pants or what b-list heroes and villains do in their off-time. His inability to die, smart mouth and constant need for entertainment ensure that those of us who follow along are going to enjoy the ride.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Regeneratin' Degenerate is only able to remain interesting as a font is pie-slinging, cross-dressing, chimichanga-eating gags because he is also the darkest, most deeply disturbed man who ever got a title at Marvel, because:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
1. Wade Wilson has murdered hundreds of people. Not out of a misplaced sense of judgement, like the Punisher, but for money.<br />
<br />
2. The healing factor that grants his immortality also causes him to be hideously deformed. His whole body is riddled with tumors which resemble 3rd-degree burn scars over 100 percent of his body, that's why he never takes off his mask.<br />
<br />
3. He is schizophrenic. There are two complete voices in addition to his own that occupy his mind. They are always watching him and there are often conversations between the three of them.<br />
<br />
4. He is fully aware that he is a fictional character. In the whole of the Marvel Universe, only 'Pool knows what's up. He often makes asides to the reader or comments on what's happening in the next panel. If fact, in one universe he takes it in himself to kill everyone in the world so that they can be free of the slavery of being manipulated by writers.<br />
<br />
5. He absolutely and completely hates himself. He knows he's crazy, he knows he's physically and ethically disgusting. His unending life has made him forget how much life is worth. This is why he acts out, trying to remember.</div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In the end, what you get is the unique ability to tell absolutely whatever story you feel like at the moment and no matter what, it's in character. Whether it's Deadpool trying to redeem himself, robbing a bank, stopping a villain, having lunch with a villain, stalking Spider-Man, or TPing the X-Mansion, it all makes sense and it's all fun to watch.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
How do you feel about it? Have you even heard of the guy? Don't forget to comment, and don't forget to stop by tomorrow when we'll be discussing "<a href="http://www.meetadamjones.com/2013/04/e-is-for-editing-out-my-filth.html" target="_blank">E is for Editing (out my filth)</a>."</div>
Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-64437406898457333432013-04-03T01:33:00.000-04:002013-04-04T13:08:03.841-04:00C is for Chocolate<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNxG0s20qP-tU7Ch29OVP38RY9SgkUIhNCWPuuM5cEnLxpDqyFlpcBeYAU6K5vkFuMxVDJ6_THwnonRVc6M-18gVDlQJ8irvARKgfNGhRiRSQOQezs5GH0-j3y98G8UwLt1mm9_L3okqEI/s1600/Dark-chocolate-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNxG0s20qP-tU7Ch29OVP38RY9SgkUIhNCWPuuM5cEnLxpDqyFlpcBeYAU6K5vkFuMxVDJ6_THwnonRVc6M-18gVDlQJ8irvARKgfNGhRiRSQOQezs5GH0-j3y98G8UwLt1mm9_L3okqEI/s320/Dark-chocolate-001.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A while ago I decided to take a creative writing class with my dear friend and new blogger <a href="http://theletternotsent.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Kendra</a>. The class was being taught by a delightful young man named <a href="http://joshuacorin.com/blog/" target="_blank">Joshua Corin</a>. I believe he might be known amongst his people as a "<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[31].[1][2][1]{comment240424499437455_980563}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2]"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[31].[1][2][1]{comment240424499437455_980563}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0"><span id=".reactRoot[31].[1][2][1]{comment240424499437455_980563}.0.[1].0.[1].0.[0].[0][2].0.[0]">mensch</span></span></span>." The class was a ridiculous assortment of hilarious characters, remind me to tell you about them some time.<br />
<br />
He would regularly advise us against indulging in stereotypical self-destructive writer behavior, such as taking drugs or alcohol in order to "improve" our writing. He informed us that most of the writers who were known for drinking began to do so after they got famous, and that their work declined after that. I asked him if there was anything he did indulge in to put him in the writing space. He looked down and got a little sheepish. It looked like he was trying to decide what sort of classroom-appropriate answer he could give and eventually decided on "Chocolate. I eat a lot of chocolate."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
I've often wondered what he chose <i>not</i> to say just then. Does he go home and prepare two buckets of chocolate sauce, undress and quaff from one until he's drenched and then sit in front of a tape recorder, dictating his novel while pawing cocoa from the other bucket like Winnie the Pooh from a jar of honey?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
I like to imagine that he does. Important note: I don't like to imagine him doing it, I need to make that clear. I just like to imagine that sometimes when he comes to class after having finished up a chapter for his new book, that there's still a little chocolate behind his ears.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Don't forget leave a comment with your feelings on chocolate, and don't forget to meet me here tomorrow for "<a href="http://www.meetadamjones.com/2013/04/d-is-for-deadpool.html" target="_blank">D is for Deadpool</a>."</div>
Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-25062167262192901772013-04-02T10:29:00.000-04:002013-04-04T00:41:42.835-04:00B is for Bloggess<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.chookooloonks.com/blog/2010/5/23/the-bloggess-and-her-red-dress.html" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggWpnAIVJQpdJoG9EI7K11travOA6xibUO5RivVeLrGl6HrLWoCxL5xJvMH5uO1R8x9z7CUpUu13cPaEiHujEPEt5hAoQOzDebLqxs9DnFatkkXjXgGTBVqOImFM-rV3v-1pIB5d7E4XRu/s320/029reddress.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There is no shortage of people around here that drip with adoration for <a href="http://thebloggess.com/" target="_blank">The Bloggess</a>. My story is nothing special, and I think that's the best part.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I doubt that I would have ever started this blog if it weren't for her encouraging everyone around her to be proud of who they were, <strike>even if</strike> especially if who they were was a bunch of weirdos. In fact, it was my experience with this blog that inspired me to pursue my dream of going back to school and pursuing a journalism degree. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now, I'm not afraid to take responsibility for my own success, but I feel compelled to express appreciation when it manages to seep into my lonesome, wicked heart.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Last year, I wrote a post called <a href="http://www.meetadamjones.com/2012/04/b-is-for-bucket-list.html" target="_blank">B is for Bucket List</a>. I decided it was time that I put together a short list of some life goals. On that list was </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<ul>
<li><b>Meet <a href="http://www.thebloggess.com/">Jenny Lawson</a></b> -
This woman has helped me tremendously and I would like to thank her in
person one day. Also, I want to get a picture of me staring at her
boobs.</li>
</ul>
</blockquote>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Well, I haven't been posting much in the last year, but I'm pleased to announce that May 16, 2012, I was able to make this dream a reality. On that day, the Bloggess was in town doing a <a href="http://thebloggess.com/2012/05/if-its-wednesday-this-must-be-atlanta/" target="_blank">book signing</a> and I went to go visit her. I thanked her. We were both a little awkward, then I stared at her boobs.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOVfLnUOied-oY_KEgzj0Gv72iAc3tmRU_lTZyUbVbAvgZeGcI1yFHVX-TebjSpRvuZSmkkz-qUrXpStNj92ouWUhbBcCRewr62Sy63iMWB7vVQxEYq9ijzgPr4GsAxd4T7EMPiLDs1snx/s1600/Bloggess+Boobs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOVfLnUOied-oY_KEgzj0Gv72iAc3tmRU_lTZyUbVbAvgZeGcI1yFHVX-TebjSpRvuZSmkkz-qUrXpStNj92ouWUhbBcCRewr62Sy63iMWB7vVQxEYq9ijzgPr4GsAxd4T7EMPiLDs1snx/s320/Bloggess+Boobs.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can't see them because of the arm, but I could.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Mission. Fucking. Accomplished. Thank you again, Bloggess, for enabling me to reach my goals.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So I guess this post actually ties together all three of my B posts for the past A-Z challenges. My first year was <a href="http://www.meetadamjones.com/2011/04/b-is-for-boobs.html" target="_blank">B is for Boobs</a>.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I like to get to know you wonderful people, so don't forget to leave a comment and come back tomorrow when our topic will be "<a href="http://www.meetadamjones.com/2013/04/c-is-for-chocolate.html" target="_blank">C is for Chocolate</a>." Don't worry, I'll make sure to make it a little inappropriate.</div>
Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-63730350264623048182013-04-01T07:17:00.000-04:002013-04-04T00:41:31.632-04:00A is for Adult Content<div style="text-align: justify;">
Wonderful news, everyone!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh113irwRQt639RZhmOAlhIl7xs759nbheKWhLyaayCCfXhvanO_MH7JRhNVmfH_M23UXipzfrpT979dYh_nqAr3a3VpBkDgsBTLv1K7Ufk98yvk_vtLpR_f4HA24Xf48fX0TKm8Ff4-Wyf/s1600/adult-content-ahead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh113irwRQt639RZhmOAlhIl7xs759nbheKWhLyaayCCfXhvanO_MH7JRhNVmfH_M23UXipzfrpT979dYh_nqAr3a3VpBkDgsBTLv1K7Ufk98yvk_vtLpR_f4HA24Xf48fX0TKm8Ff4-Wyf/s320/adult-content-ahead.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It is once again time for the annual A-Z blogging challenge. It's that magical time of year, full of shiny hope, where I pretend I'm capable of assimilating into the blog-o-sphere, but have my hopes dashed throughout the month as my ideas degenerate into discussing yaks and offending like,<i> 70%</i> of the Mommy Bloggers.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>They</i> shouldn't be talking about their boobs if they don't want <i>me</i> to be talking about their boobs. I'm kidding. Who doesn't like people talking about their boobs? That was rhetorical. I know that the people who have lost a breast to cancer, or have the super-floppy-pancakey ones often don't like to discuss it, but you didn't need to bring that up.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Have some fucking tact.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Which brings me to today's point.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This is the first year in the A-Z challenge where a blog can sign up under a particular category. It's completely optional, except if you're an Adult Content blog, then you'll be removed if you're not listed as such.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I took a look at some of the (AC) blogs and a lot of them were talking about dildos, buttsex techniques, and all sorts of miscellaneous things about genitals and how to use them.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now, I almost never actually write about sex, but I sure do say fuck a lot. I figured that whether you're writing about dicks and twats, or you're just calling people dicks and twats, it still comes under that category of "adult content." If my posts were being read aloud on television, that guy would have to come on beforehand and say "viewer discretion is advised."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So, if you're coming here from the <a href="http://www.meetadamjones.com/p/blog-hop-list-for-z.html" target="_blank">A-Z blog list</a> because you saw the (AC) and you were looking for tips on how to find the best glory holes, I'm not your guy.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
If you're looking for somebody to use a considerable about of profanity to go on a long rant about why their <a href="http://www.meetadamjones.com/2013/03/shall-i-compare-steven-moffat-to-bloody.html" target="_blank">favorite television show</a> is degrading, then we're all in luck! </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I've decided to do a vaguely writing-centered series of posts this month. Join me tomorrow for "<a href="http://www.meetadamjones.com/2013/04/b-is-for-bloggess.html" target="_blank">B is for Bloggess.</a>" So, leave a comment, Like me on Facebook, watch my <a href="http://www.meetadamjones.com/p/about.html" target="_blank">About</a> video, and let's get started!</div>
Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-11620403105777648572013-03-30T09:01:00.000-04:002013-03-30T09:39:49.715-04:00Shall I Compare Steven Moffat to a Bloody Diaper? - Part 3<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Angels_Take_Manhattan" target="_blank">The Angels Take Manhattan</a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIhyGsS_zzZR02Qt3JkxCjjXRkV-lhb3IOIcx6yBI8LeR3aFB6CLieQfLNzrWNkMFu2-EVD7XWFTJf4tc_0ExATgbi5GKAFHF7xU8e7k0TohbWBMWWn0XklPz_yLAhYFDTOaGgGao6o6Wa/s1600/Doctor+Who++The+Angels+Take+Manhattan.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIhyGsS_zzZR02Qt3JkxCjjXRkV-lhb3IOIcx6yBI8LeR3aFB6CLieQfLNzrWNkMFu2-EVD7XWFTJf4tc_0ExATgbi5GKAFHF7xU8e7k0TohbWBMWWn0XklPz_yLAhYFDTOaGgGao6o6Wa/s320/Doctor+Who++The+Angels+Take+Manhattan.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Here we are at last. The Unforgivable Episode. The one that ruined the Doctor.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This
was originally going to be its own standalone post, but I felt that I
ultimately needed more background to explain why this episode was so
maddening and so very, very disappointing. That's why there had to be two preceding segments, <a href="http://www.meetadamjones.com/2013/03/shall-i-compare-steven-moffat-to-bloody.html" target="_blank">Part 1</a> and <a href="http://www.meetadamjones.com/2013/03/shall-i-compare-steven-moffat-to-bloody_29.html" target="_blank">Part 2</a>.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I've been re-watching a lot of these episodes to make sure that I have my facts straight and my ducks in a row. I cannot describe to you the sense of dread I experienced sitting down and pressing play on this episode. Hopefully by getting this out, it will begin to hurt less.<br />
<br />
So, what was wrong with this episode? Well, not to sound too melodramatic, but everything. Every single premise on which the episode relies is false or flawed.<br />
<br />
I'll go in the order of the notes I took while re-watching the episode: <br />
<br />
The <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Weeping_Angel" target="_blank">Weeping Angels</a> are a vastly ancient, mysterious race of beings who bear the physical appearance of angels and involuntarily turn to stone whenever seen. In the episode we see a group of their young, who appear as cherubs. Adorable. That makes sense. However, we also see a mother and child statue that end up being "Angels" and in the beginning of the episode we see that the Statue of Liberty is in fact also an "Angel."<br />
<br />
What? No! In no previous episode containing the Angels (all written by Moffat) were they able to infect statues to become animate. The Angels are <i>not statues</i>. They are <i>living beings turned to stone</i>. What I mean is that no one ever sculpted the Angels, they are a biological life form. They're ostensibly fleshy when no one's watching. This "infection" angle is brand new, out of left-field, and once again, as with the <a href="http://www.meetadamjones.com/2013/03/shall-i-compare-steven-moffat-to-bloody_29.html" target="_blank">Dalek sleeper agents</a>, <i>no one talks about it</i>. In previous episodes, it was always a big deal when we discovered a new ability of theirs, but not this time. None of it makes any sense.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUV4Mlj3p7MxVdUHBFy8llfhZho51v4Qv9WPrZqEE1BuzYmxerXv-yjoyE-f4aWuWTCyb64vUObY_rP8c02gzTjUGpYzUc30Q8Hrffhl8KoJamYBRhoOs_xc_6KJF9HEjCNW8kZ8CKAYF_/s1600/doctor-who-angels-take-manhattan-liberty1.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUV4Mlj3p7MxVdUHBFy8llfhZho51v4Qv9WPrZqEE1BuzYmxerXv-yjoyE-f4aWuWTCyb64vUObY_rP8c02gzTjUGpYzUc30Q8Hrffhl8KoJamYBRhoOs_xc_6KJF9HEjCNW8kZ8CKAYF_/s320/doctor-who-angels-take-manhattan-liberty1.png" width="320" /></a></div>
Also, I cannot emphasize enough what a foolish notion it is that the Statue of Liberty is an "Angel." First of all, when is no one looking at it? Second, remember the huge footsteps that would occasionally pause and it turned out it was her all along? Well, the only reason that it would have occasionally paused like that is if someone were looking at it. Which means that people would occasionally notice Lady Liberty creeping through the city on her way to that hotel. And what, then they just looked away long enough for her to continue? A 15-story copper monster can apparently just mosey through 7 million people and no one notices. And remember that whole "That which bears the image of an Angel becomes and Angel" business? That means that all of the tourists through New York, students with textbooks, and maybe even some stamp collectors are all harboring the Angel of Liberty.<br />
<br />
Next, the Doctor believes that River has to get a broken wrist because Amy read it in the book that River will write about this adventure, and not doing so would break causality. This is a deeply flawed presumption. Amy read out a couple of lines of dialog, that's it. The only thing that would actually have to happen is the saying of those words. As long River says "Why do you have to break mine?" and the Doctor says "Because Amy read it in a book and now I have no choice," then the prophecy is fulfilled. Nothing actually has to get broken. This whole thing also relies on the belief that the book was 100% accurate. What if River had gotten the line wrong when she wrote it?<br />
<br />
<br />
So River breaks her wrist getting out and the Doctor uses his Paladin ability "Lay on Hands" in order to heal it... What?! This is not a thing. Why did this happen? The Doctor cannot heal with a touch. If he could, I'm pretty sure we would have seen this before. Well, maybe it only works on other Timelords. Well, if that were the case, I'm pretty sure he would have given it a try when his <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Doctor%27s_Daughter" target="_blank">daughter got shot</a>, or when the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Last_of_the_Time_Lords" target="_blank">Master got shot</a>. Okay, when I said that I wasn't going to bitch about Moffat ignoring anything that came before him, I meant like him not referencing previous characters and plot-lines, not <i>tearing causality a new asshole</i>. <br />
<br />
. . .<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjolfB5688C-0uZwrY-AKSK9Jk4LQr1GiHIJv8aEXxGdkI1OCLD2udS2lf69iH4v33MEEXItPdDPbllpwMIcc8VelaJdkGDw97IQOUKiddLQpu5kPkySC5f81CRo5x1eTsmdrowcdSguGYs/s1600/Doctor-Who-The-Angels-Take-Manhattan-Baby-Angels.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjolfB5688C-0uZwrY-AKSK9Jk4LQr1GiHIJv8aEXxGdkI1OCLD2udS2lf69iH4v33MEEXItPdDPbllpwMIcc8VelaJdkGDw97IQOUKiddLQpu5kPkySC5f81CRo5x1eTsmdrowcdSguGYs/s320/Doctor-Who-The-Angels-Take-Manhattan-Baby-Angels.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
So, Rory's trapped in a basement with a bunch of Weeping Cherubs. He's holding a match and one of them, in stone form, blows it out. Bullshit. It's never been implied that an Angel simply gets encased in a molecular thin layer of stone when being observed. They turn completely to stone. You can't blow out a match with stone lungs.<br />
<br />
But they got him anyway and he gets teleported to the middle of a street somewhere. From there, instead of trying to phone his wife of just staying put until they come and get him, he wanders into the Angel Hotel <i>for no reason whatsoever</i>. Except that it was necessary for the plot to continue. And if the Angels wanted him in the hotel,<br />
why not just teleport him directly inside?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD-OJZGj-Vo19EWrf0kpZonGnbFFWG0q1sVjz6nW3ScaKA67COZfpCVAFx87bB7C1hEwY3Auq2OkzILahBp2dPiziamOHoQLqhk-GAD4FoYd-zh7WuZXdDdARRlIdLFwGN4DH2NrUxGHZJ/s1600/Rory+Plate.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD-OJZGj-Vo19EWrf0kpZonGnbFFWG0q1sVjz6nW3ScaKA67COZfpCVAFx87bB7C1hEwY3Auq2OkzILahBp2dPiziamOHoQLqhk-GAD4FoYd-zh7WuZXdDdARRlIdLFwGN4DH2NrUxGHZJ/s320/Rory+Plate.png" width="320" /></a></div>
Right, so the Angel Hotel. This is a brilliant idea. However, it's too bad that they got it completely wrong in every way. Here's how it should work: Let's say for sake of argument that the Angels send a person back 50 years whenever they touch them. Let's also say that they built the hotel in 1880. That means that their first victim will pop into existence in 1830, well before the hotel is build and live out their lives. From 1880 until 1930, their crop of first-round victims will be sent back to 1830 to 1880. Their first victim after their 50th anniversary in 1930 will get sent back to 1880 in the hotel, where they will feed on him again and send him back to 1830 with the first guy. So basically, the second that they open their doors in 1880, they're getting not only their first-round victims, but also their victims from 50, 100, 150 years in the future and so on. Interestingly enough, they'll have the most food they'll ever have in the very beginning and all of their victims ever end up in the 50 years before the hotel opens. It's a brilliant idea. The thing is, they get their food from displacing people back in time, so there's absolutely zero benefit from keeping them there and taking care of them until they die of old age. Speaking of which, who the fuck is taking care of them? Who is printing out those name cards? Who is making their food? Is there an Angel in a kitchen somewhere making stew for everyone? It's just ludicrous. <br />
<br />
So in the end, an Angel gets Amy and Rory and they get sent back in time. The Doctor can't go back and rescue them because they already lived out their lives and died, which is confirmed by their gravestone. Undoing this outcome would cause another paradox and rip like, everything ever apart.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAiLfKi7-K83oMU3U3ELD3SzVbZjplGxXabkUeUBvfDpq5N7tAYbDc9KQnC-pSVXex_ZZjLhqGEZTRGhiZgMY0E_nadu-HOMtRxDZlLt6SGrhVadcpXN415aLnRdX2bNmSeUSZ6fmG2XBG/s1600/Gravestone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAiLfKi7-K83oMU3U3ELD3SzVbZjplGxXabkUeUBvfDpq5N7tAYbDc9KQnC-pSVXex_ZZjLhqGEZTRGhiZgMY0E_nadu-HOMtRxDZlLt6SGrhVadcpXN415aLnRdX2bNmSeUSZ6fmG2XBG/s320/Gravestone.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Except, that is complete foolishness. Like the book dialog, all that it written in stone is their names. There is absolutely nothing keeping the Doctor from going back, grabbing them, and placing a gravestone with their names in the cemetery. Causality would be ensured and Rory and Amy wouldn't have to live and die in old-timey New York. And it doesn't matter that the TARDIS can't go back to 1938 New York (if that's where they went), because even if he can't, there's no reason he can't go to 1938 New Jersey and take a cab. Besides, there shouldn't even be time distortions anymore now that the Angels never had their hotel. And whatever happened to the Angel that got them? What do you even do with a spare, rogue Angel?<br />
<br />
The big emotional climax of the half-season arc was how tragic it was that after everything, at the last moment Amy and Rory were taken away in an unavoidable moment of destiny.<br />
<br />
Except that, no. Just...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8qywV35vLY0fna3r8TYrUzl2sgo6CsbNPtS6lYlrH5VKY4-HLI-bDBTLhXdugtIL469DnKw0RnK2e7z2giLQ98FQAhLbNq-FAjZYKpHdVRjWdoyw3IS3Ckpm7O-Qo3KBQxWImyhnEMgny/s1600/Grumpy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8qywV35vLY0fna3r8TYrUzl2sgo6CsbNPtS6lYlrH5VKY4-HLI-bDBTLhXdugtIL469DnKw0RnK2e7z2giLQ98FQAhLbNq-FAjZYKpHdVRjWdoyw3IS3Ckpm7O-Qo3KBQxWImyhnEMgny/s320/Grumpy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-10320865096791493322013-03-29T02:48:00.000-04:002013-03-29T06:58:12.765-04:00Shall I Compare Steven Moffat to a Bloody Diaper? - Part 2<div style="text-align: justify;">
This is the second of a three part segment in which I explain my negative feelings concerning Steven Moffat. If you missed part one, you can find it <a href="http://www.meetadamjones.com/2013/03/shall-i-compare-steven-moffat-to-bloody.html" target="_blank">here</a>. For the rest of us, let's continue...</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Season seven finally rolled around and I was cautiously optimistic. I'm a bit of a fool that way. It was my hope that they had just had a couple of bad moments and that everyone had gotten used to working with each other and were ready to blow my mind.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asylum_of_the_Daleks" target="_blank">Asylum of the Daleks</a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9OcwJO_wZxaOMwVAp0LA-qs1SY-CyF4JEv3XkS5BeaecRXNUGNpgBos7r9NHY1A1VjqFjzg0Jv9noZRazJ0YT_ClIBbfJSOfJWI7rJeKoJraPzWm24iNqhO9eA0xVPe_WNCzY_kZTTfND/s1600/Asylum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9OcwJO_wZxaOMwVAp0LA-qs1SY-CyF4JEv3XkS5BeaecRXNUGNpgBos7r9NHY1A1VjqFjzg0Jv9noZRazJ0YT_ClIBbfJSOfJWI7rJeKoJraPzWm24iNqhO9eA0xVPe_WNCzY_kZTTfND/s320/Asylum.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My excitement was increased when I watched an <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p00xz5hp" target="_blank">interview with Moffat</a> in which he talked about the season premier. The Doctor would face off against the Daleks that even the Daleks thought were too mad. The possibilities were enthralling. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
What if they went down and found this compound filled with Dalek prison gangs all fighting for dominance? Since Daleks are a lot like <a href="http://forgottenrealms.wikia.com/wiki/Beholder" target="_blank">Beholders</a> in that any variation amongst them is seen as inferiority, this could lead to some truly intriguing power struggles. Can you imagine a 12-foot tall, mad, Dalek faction leader with a couple of side mounted missile launchers and symbols carved into its chassis like prison tats? It would be a remarkable opportunity to introduce named, possibly recurring villains and introduce some depth.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Except that instead, they all went down to the Junkyard of the Daleks. It was just a series of old, dusty garages filled with sleeping, rusty Daleks. None of these creatures were portrayed as unique or interesting in any way. The entire thing seemed like a clumsy vehicle to introduce <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clara_Oswald" target="_blank">Clara Oswin Oswald</a>, a way-too-smart, pretty young girl that had managed to get herself turned into a Dalek.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
What? What the fuck?! Look, I know I said that I wasn't going to refer back to anything that happened pre-Moffat, but I just can't let this go. Back in the season one finale, one of the big reveals was that the Dalek Emperor had rebuilt the his race by cultivating a few worthy cells from millions of kidnapped and processed humans. This dude went through an insane amount of effort to crate Daleks, while these guys can apparently just flip a switch somewhere get a one-to-one Human/Dalek ratio.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Fine, whatever, but the Daleks also have the ability to cover a planet in a nanite cloud that can convert all tissue, living or dead, into Daleks and make sleeper agents out of them and <i>nobody talks about it?!</i> Everybody just goes along like this is something that just happens now. There's nothing to stop the most vicious race of race of xenophobic psychopaths the universe has ever produced from stopping by a world, dropping in a nanite bomb, and leaving with a whole planet of extra soldiers and no one thinks about it? Not even the Daleks? I just... it hurts.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Then Clara decides to kill herself, because life is easier that way.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dinosaurs_on_a_Spaceship" target="_blank">Dinosaurs on a Spaceship</a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrBn-7pUIknZzU9dZB5dwyzaNw5OwlpFQ1jmCeKws1R_Vi0OxJ7b2APyluAx8ksvmJ79q0jW5kCxQ9HAWEU-cN-fXCTgcGp6CvczJK4_jb7uL957C667gkrC-lfBtUJZWOnCHJLZyjboLP/s1600/Dinosaurs-on-a-Spaceship1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="193" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrBn-7pUIknZzU9dZB5dwyzaNw5OwlpFQ1jmCeKws1R_Vi0OxJ7b2APyluAx8ksvmJ79q0jW5kCxQ9HAWEU-cN-fXCTgcGp6CvczJK4_jb7uL957C667gkrC-lfBtUJZWOnCHJLZyjboLP/s320/Dinosaurs-on-a-Spaceship1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Doctor, Rory, Amy, a big game hunter, and Queen Nefertiti try to wrest control of a giant spaceship from the janitor of Hogwarts before it crashes into Earth. The only thing stopping them are a couple of dimwitted killer robots voiced by the always delightful British comedians <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0593267/" target="_blank">David Mitchell</a> and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0916267/" target="_blank">Robert Webb</a>. Also, there are dinosaurs. Through a series of trickery and quick thinking, the Doctor slides into victory, but not before allowing the robots to murder an outrageously adorable dog-like triceratops named Tricey.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We all love dinosaurs and spaceships, so it would seem pretty hard to fuck this one up.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Except
that they find a way. I think fucking up is to Steven Moffat what life
is to Jeff Goldblum in Jurassic Park: it finds a way.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The absolute only threat in this entire episode is those two robots. Two rusty, old, not-at-all made of wood robots. Also, the Doctor has a sonic screwdriver that is adept at disrupting all kinds of circuitry, especially, say... <i>two rusty, old, not-at-all made of wood robots.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This wouldn't have been a difficult thing to get around. All it would have taken is five seconds of screen time in which he scans the robots and tells us all that they have some sort of "sonic shielding" or some such. I don't care what they call it, but give us some device to tell us that this wouldn't work. It's not even like this technique is unknown to them. They even use it in <i>that very episode</i> for something else. When they accidentally got teleported somewhere on the ship, they couldn't teleport back because some circuit or another had been fried. It didn't matter, it was just a device to get them to run from some pterodactyls and that was fine. Just have the decency to do the same thing in order to protect the central plot of the story.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Town_Called_Mercy" target="_blank">A Town Called Mercy</a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpaVNH-PzV3_YoCTwlLHOTQqErx2o53Y9nTCxMiW_lmvcyBgkcHrBjJ2TRJhscLdQHbH5xzHUt_29Ql2UrjIba_Ph3pPm-HxFy2-hKhreFb6ERhCGrMAYDWBOl_dJfeY2AWOJcnpfIU448/s1600/A-town-called-Mercy-image-f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpaVNH-PzV3_YoCTwlLHOTQqErx2o53Y9nTCxMiW_lmvcyBgkcHrBjJ2TRJhscLdQHbH5xzHUt_29Ql2UrjIba_Ph3pPm-HxFy2-hKhreFb6ERhCGrMAYDWBOl_dJfeY2AWOJcnpfIU448/s320/A-town-called-Mercy-image-f.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The scene opens with a guy named Kahler-Mas getting gunned down in the American Southwest by a cyborg in a poncho and a cowboy hat.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The cyborg, Kahler-Tek is hunting down Kahler-Jex, the last of the war criminals responsible for turning him and many others into war machines against their will. However, in the interim, Jex had become a beloved town physician, leading to some conflicts of interest. In the end, the Doctor distracts the cyborg using the plot of "Amigos, Amigos, Amigos" enabling Jex takes a step toward redemption my ending his own life so that no one else has to die and Tek doesn't have to take another life. Touching.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Except... why was the alien space cyborg wearing a poncho and cowboy hat? This may seem like a tiny complaint, but it's just ridiculous. He clearly wasn't trying to blend in and there was no way that his metal scalp was getting sunburned. Why do this at all? Because someone wanted a cybernetic desperado and they didn't care how they got it. It's just one more example of how willing they are to sacrifice the integrity of their story in order to increase its flair.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Also, the name of the alien race is the Kahler. These three names are equivalent to everyone going around saying "Morning, Human-Bob." "Oh, good morning Human-Jim." It's a ludicrously inefficient naming convention, especially when you consider that on a planet of millions, you're bound to run out of one syllable names pretty quick.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Oh, and "Amigos, Amigos, Amigos" was an episode of The Three Amigos in which everyone in town dressed as an Amigo and overwhelmed the villains with distractions, leading to a town victory. You can also see this play out at the end of the movie about the Three Amigos calle<i>d <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Three_Amigos" target="_blank">¡Three Amigos!</a>.</i> The problem with this was that the cyborg threatened to kill everyone in town if they didn't deliver Jex, so it doesn't seem like a good idea to dress everyone in town like Jex. There's nothing to stop him from shooting everyone, just like he said he would. Except that's not how it happened in the script.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Power_of_Three_%28Doctor_Who%29" target="_blank">The Power of Three</a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaspm_tZRvnnbhTA1byC0pU3subc1tSiTyIQhbRxbJBR3aDduSttKb8MU9HoJ3BDrPHNilam1r9jM5GBXJRCr7bUAkVAuFk2TeJSz2wZxtvCxAOJ7mkXVurB_m7oD-b1g92Zcu1P1SpCPC/s1600/Power+of+Three.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaspm_tZRvnnbhTA1byC0pU3subc1tSiTyIQhbRxbJBR3aDduSttKb8MU9HoJ3BDrPHNilam1r9jM5GBXJRCr7bUAkVAuFk2TeJSz2wZxtvCxAOJ7mkXVurB_m7oD-b1g92Zcu1P1SpCPC/s320/Power+of+Three.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I... I don't really have anything against this episode. It's only one of the season so far that I'm not going to tear up and it felt weird not to mention it. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Snowmen" target="_blank">The Snowmen</a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiad_mGgiRzqTUFTjDpSrO4o7F-FWtpNVno2qduS4l7saxFyeIncIRB5qWzFaY7Lq9OLjutJDuRhb659RvdhbkZhm0aNX3-AdE8UzSJHmySZV7eIneUp0t4TnXA0vqG0anbnG8Zgr-14LkB/s1600/Doctor-Who-christmas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiad_mGgiRzqTUFTjDpSrO4o7F-FWtpNVno2qduS4l7saxFyeIncIRB5qWzFaY7Lq9OLjutJDuRhb659RvdhbkZhm0aNX3-AdE8UzSJHmySZV7eIneUp0t4TnXA0vqG0anbnG8Zgr-14LkB/s320/Doctor-Who-christmas.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In the interest of avoiding an anticlimax, I'm going to skip ahead to the Christmas special.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
One of the things that I despise most about Moffat's war of Style against Substance is that occasionally I find myself liking it. As much as I loath the degradation of the narrative, some of the style is just plain lovely. This episode is a prime example of it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Grumpy Old Doctor is living in the clouds above Christmastime London and has to be coaxed down by a peppy and clever Clara Oswin Oswald (who is inexplicably no longer dead, or a Dalek, or anything), along with a lizard lady, her human wife, and a potato-nurse. The episode was fun, humorous, and lovely. I really do like Clara and I sincerely hope that they do something worthwhile with her.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Except... look, I'm not saying that the Doctor <i>can't </i>live on a cloud above 1890s London, but <i>why would he? </i>This is nothing like anything we've seen him do before. Yes, I'm willing to entertain the notion that he's no kind of man that he's ever been before, but still. And if you want to be alone, why surround yourself with people? Why not go to an uninhabited planet or the depths of space? Sure, he had a subconscious desire to be pulled out of his funk, but why not at least allude to it? Why must I continue to tell the the story to myself?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Here's the thing that really gets my goat about this episode: </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/jjs6fXIJiZ4?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Another smitten girl kisses the Doctor. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
First, can we stop having companions fall in love with the Doctor? Why is this such a thing since the restart? It was nice having that break with Donna Noble, but <i>everyone else</i> can't wait to get their hands on Timelord dong. Well, the ladies that is. Well, the ladies and Jack Harkness.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Second, sure he doesn't kiss her back, but neither does he mention the little fact that <i>he's married</i>. You'd think that kind of thing should come up pretty quickly in this kind of situation. I'm not comfortable with this combined with the instant and powerful emotional connection he's formed with this woman. Sadly, this has forced me to come up with a far-fetched and ridiculous theory in order to explain this away so I don't have to think about a philandering Doctor. I will share this now, though you'd be better off skipping it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">*Conspiracy Theory* </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So they've never really dealt with the death of River Song. She's not really dead, you see. Her consciousness is fully intact in a giant computer planet along with a handful of others as seen in the end of "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Forest_of_the_Dead" target="_blank">The Forest of the Dead</a>." If only we had a way of getting a computerized copy of a person into a custom fit body. Oh wait, we can, as seen in the aforementioned "<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Almost_People" target="_blank">The Almost People</a>." All that we have to do is connect those two systems and everyone in the library gets a shiny new body. You do River last, because that's the way she would have it. Then, her quasi-timelord genetics muck up the process. We know that the process worked on the Doctor, but it almost failed. If it <i>did</i> fail on River it could cause her to regenerate, because the process might re-imbue her with regeneration energy. Only something goes terribly wrong and not only does she regenerate, she then gets split up through time, one for each remaining regeneration. And all of them are an amnesia stricken <i>Clara Oswin Oswald</i>. This explains her super intelligence, instant draw to the Doctor, and why I don't have to feel weird about them kissing (or that Alex Kingston is 20 years older than Matt Smith).</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: red;">*End Conspiracy Theory* </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
That's all we have for today. Join me next time as I wrap up this series on why </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<u>Steven Moffat</u> :: <u>Doctor Who</u> as <u>The guy pooping on your best friend</u> :: <u>Your best friend</u></div>
Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-85291355724689421082013-03-27T13:38:00.002-04:002013-03-29T00:00:55.112-04:00Shall I Compare Steven Moffat to a Bloody Diaper? - Part 1<div style="text-align: justify;">
People communicate on a very superficial level these days. Last night I posted a link on my Facebook page expressing my complete joy that head writer and executive producer of Doctor Who, Steven Moffat is beginning to consider <a href="http://www.mirror.co.uk/tv/tv-news/doctor-who-steven-moffat-admits-1779192" target="_blank">leaving the show</a>.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Not long after a friend of mine asked me why I was so happy about this. My response wasn't more put together than "because he sucks and I hate him." To which Friend responded, "yes, but <i>why?</i>"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I was a bit stunned. Not that I had never bothered putting to words why I hated Steven Moffat, but that someone bothered to dig deeper than surface Social Media bitching. Well, with points in the ether to be made and the show about to start back up again after its winter break, it seemed like a good opportunity to <strike>do some kvetching.</strike> make some valid points.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
If Doctor Who isn't really your thing, you may be better off coming back in a few days once I've gotten this out of my system. We're about to get super Nerd-Ragey up in this bitch. So, here we go...</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Why I'm Pleased that Steven Moffat Will Leave "Who"</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">-or-</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Why Steven Moffat can <span style="font-size: large;">G</span>et Regularly Assaulted by a Diseased-Ridden Rape-Griff<span style="font-size: large;">i</span>n and I'<span style="font-size: large;">d</span> be Okay with <span style="font-size: large;">I</span>t</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There are a few things I feel I need to get out of the way before we get started:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
First - I'm coming from a place of love. I remember being a small child and hiding behind my couch from Daleks. When the show rebooted in 2005, I was skeptical. However, it didn't take me long to simply fall in love with the show all over again. The stories were complex, but never came across as contrived. The characters didn't always do what I expected them to, but they were always true to themselves. I didn't always know where the show was going, but they always rewarded my faith by pulling everything together by the end.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Second - I think it's ridiculous that Moffat refuses to interact with anything that came before him, but I'm not going to harp on it in this. I understand that it's nearly impossible to maintain 50 years of continuity, and it would actually take a small amount of effort to factor in what Davies did before him, but I will hold Moffat accountable for the reality he sets up himself.<br />
<br />
Third - I want to be thorough enough to get my point across, but brief enough to fit into a post. If you would like to elaborate on anything, let me know and I'll try to find a way to fit it in... giggety. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/galleries/p00pj98g" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimd7adXLZhMfcwzlml43oqORSHbcbUrmZ3mGnSZSUcw2iCDmkgcbu-Sb2yb69OY4uNaKx-n2QLv81XJsAg_jE2ZLoG040OdatnpfGisEyAYY7QLI8Vc1zWJiWATu6UxcjEyTyJxanhSJ8-/s320/River+Song.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/galleries/p00pj98g" target="_blank">And I loved me some River Song</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When the previous executive producer, Russell T Davies decided to step down and Steven Moffat took his place, I was optimistic even then. Moffat had written a couple of my favorite episodes, including <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blink_%28Doctor_Who%29" target="_blank">Blink</a>, and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Silence_in_the_Library" target="_blank">Silence in the Library</a>. I wasn't afraid of change, I was excited to see the new direction everything would take. He started the job with every advantage a man could have.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Then slowly, ever so slowly that I wasn't at first at all sure that it was happening, Moffat shat the bed. And he just. Won't. Stop. Shitting.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Season 5 came and went before I was even sure I smelled anything. I believe that the only fair way to do this is by listing particular offending episodes and why they contribute to the loathing.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Christmas_Carol_%28Doctor_Who%29" target="_blank">A Christmas Carol</a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglSOGyomariWZHfIOpjprpGI-R-U6ifXaWR405svjgECguSykPvGqIpZ2EQG6aaTHeWHMCBUVxgpIvwuxrzx_V1nSqjTE_OgIY0ounuFjJgb_nmIyjVDD8m7j5XrzbJiEtwV1KuyY3fEYz/s1600/Doctor_Who_Christmas_Carol.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglSOGyomariWZHfIOpjprpGI-R-U6ifXaWR405svjgECguSykPvGqIpZ2EQG6aaTHeWHMCBUVxgpIvwuxrzx_V1nSqjTE_OgIY0ounuFjJgb_nmIyjVDD8m7j5XrzbJiEtwV1KuyY3fEYz/s1600/Doctor_Who_Christmas_Carol.png" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So the Doctor spends a solid week with this chick who sleeps in a stasis pod which has a number that ticks down every day and she asked about her doctors when they first met. The Doctor noticed the number on the stasis pod, but he can't be expected to remember everything.<br />
<br />
Except that's exactly what he does. He puts those little clues together and saves people. Abigail asking if he was one of her doctors was very reminiscent of Amy asking if he was a policeman when they first met. There was every indication that the Doctor was onto the mystery, but then he just... forgot. Besides, there wouldn't be as much of an emotional punch if he had fixed her, right?<br />
<br />
I would have been satisfied if he had found the illness, but there just wasn't a cure. The fact that he didn't even check seemed incompetent to the point of out of character. I freely admit that it is difficult to write a character who is smarter than you, but this was the first time that line got crossed for me.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Curse_of_the_Black_Spot" target="_blank">The Curse of the Black Spot</a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCCC2lolU98QtUFI2-6_yMhWzbGKzVQvQwZv2pLfICv-pe6EpEHS6A3QW61GEXi1-Jej2RGjsLvmtjIp1fLuSgbpvkGCa4EMKow-7tUUeB_gvqLxDVnIXFTFC0ptXttIB3RRgUztNMMfV9/s1600/spot_promo1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCCC2lolU98QtUFI2-6_yMhWzbGKzVQvQwZv2pLfICv-pe6EpEHS6A3QW61GEXi1-Jej2RGjsLvmtjIp1fLuSgbpvkGCa4EMKow-7tUUeB_gvqLxDVnIXFTFC0ptXttIB3RRgUztNMMfV9/s320/spot_promo1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This was the first episode that caused me to scream at the television as I was watching it. The moment when they realized that it was reflective surfaces, not just still water, that allowed the Siren to come through, the Doctor decided it would be best if they through all the treasure overboard, which led to the greedy captain dooming his son by accidentally dropping his purloined crown.<br />
<br />
Except that they repeatedly proved that it doesn't just have to be <i>reflective</i>, it has to be actively <i>reflecting</i>. They could have thrown a tarp over the treasure and it would have been perfectly safe, but that wouldn't have caused the captain to lose his son over his own greed, so they glazed over it for storytelling purposes.<br />
<br />
Then, for no great reason, the Doctor decides that suicide <i>might</i> end well and they all get sent to the phase-shifted spaceship on the other side of the veil. Sure, whatever. Only they got there just like everyone else, and they didn't get put were everyone else got put. Everyone else was laid down unconscious in life-support while the Doctor, Amy, and the captain got sent to an empty room <i>for no damn reason at all</i>.<br />
<br />
Then the episode ends with the Doctor giving a bunch of murderous pirates a spaceship.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Almost_People" target="_blank">The Almost People</a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXm_CuzgNH3MV4oMIFSFZS8pTdq0T-5MUhIvAYaUHfGozM6xa0cO5Bsad-WzFp7mf-zI-2kTFELa50nqY1iMNllL7OzeAzfyWU8NhkgdXyq1PkIonbu22YZmYhy7senQcMNw2seDWlX2v/s1600/DW-ganger+doctor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXm_CuzgNH3MV4oMIFSFZS8pTdq0T-5MUhIvAYaUHfGozM6xa0cO5Bsad-WzFp7mf-zI-2kTFELa50nqY1iMNllL7OzeAzfyWU8NhkgdXyq1PkIonbu22YZmYhy7senQcMNw2seDWlX2v/s320/DW-ganger+doctor.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Cripes, what a downer. That's okay, sad can be good, but this wasn't.<br />
<br />
A whole two-parter has gone by in which we learn all sorts of lessons about what it means to be alive, unique, and human. In the end, the Doctor clone and the foreman clone hold off the monster behind the door to buy time for everyone to get away. They then kill the monster, killing themselves in the process. Quite noble, proving that one's origins does not dictate one's morality.<br />
<br />
Except that was the stupidest thing they could have done. There was a point where everyone was gathered around the door and the TARDIS was only 20 feet away. Any two people could have stayed behind to fire the clone-killing weapon, including any of <i>the real versions of the ones who died</i>. They even had time to sit around and talk about it. There was absolutely no reason that those two people had to explod-o-melt except that it made for a more emotional ending.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Let%27s_Kill_Hitler" target="_blank">Let's Kill Hitler</a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJE9oagZ68PfSqPLlZFEj5czfw6kYH8ptpXys9tpj8Gn-IkN2liSmR1Yep8Jvw__UWiVEVHBgiaVc1Ims9F-HHBFG0Mi15njO2VhsfpdTwQ-8T3QBqh58QcRPZ7K-ZQG5DhJqmsbEnz9jH/s1600/doctor-who-lets-kill-hitler-matt-smith.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJE9oagZ68PfSqPLlZFEj5czfw6kYH8ptpXys9tpj8Gn-IkN2liSmR1Yep8Jvw__UWiVEVHBgiaVc1Ims9F-HHBFG0Mi15njO2VhsfpdTwQ-8T3QBqh58QcRPZ7K-ZQG5DhJqmsbEnz9jH/s320/doctor-who-lets-kill-hitler-matt-smith.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So far we've been talking about the characters being drastically poor decision makers, which is okay in and of itself, except that here it's an example of writing out of character. This episode introduces an entirely new style of cheap writing.<br />
<br />
Remember how Amy grew up ostracized and out of sorts because no one believed her stories about the Doctor? Did you catch that his willingness to believe/indulge her was one of the main reasons that Rory and Amy were able to bond?<br />
<br />
Except that Moffat doesn't give a corn-filled turd about you or what you remember, so let's ret-con that shit!<br />
<br />
Hey, remember how Amy and Rory grew up with this really ballsy black chick who totally believed in the Doctor, was totally with them all the time, only no one ever mentioned her even once until now? Well, it turns out that was River the whole time! What a twist! Aren't you surprised? I bet you didn't see that one coming!<br />
<br />
Creating a brand new element that was supposedly there all the time is cheap. Making that the axis of a major plot point is terrible.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_God_Complex" target="_blank">The God Complex</a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUnXjLAvgR6bI6M0V-8QEtz52iHBuYg8D_gDQtBQL5hKI56v4a6Ffnb9kd5zFNUHA5zAlqqtl63phFgM4hF9IixLNLrq7uDn_gmld1Y4zJDL6NahOdI3IHou0euEyDnZ3253AJ5wDS_Cu3/s1600/godcomplex03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUnXjLAvgR6bI6M0V-8QEtz52iHBuYg8D_gDQtBQL5hKI56v4a6Ffnb9kd5zFNUHA5zAlqqtl63phFgM4hF9IixLNLrq7uDn_gmld1Y4zJDL6NahOdI3IHou0euEyDnZ3253AJ5wDS_Cu3/s320/godcomplex03.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Let me first say that I don't actually dislike this episode, it's just that it's a prime example of a trend that I dislike in Who storytelling.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The thing about the Doctor is that he's just a clever guy. A clever guy with a time machine and a dozen more chances at life that the rest of us, sure... but he's still just a guy. He's not super strong or bullet proof. He doesn't know 50 martial arts, in fact, he's much, much better at running away than anything else. He spends most of his time thwarting villains with nefarious schemes and setting right what once went wrong... The bad guys were mean and scary, but they were usually just guys.<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Except now he's psychic and defeats abstract concepts with the power of feels. In the God Complex, </div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
there's a space-minotaur prison warden who feeds on the faith of his victims by trapping them in a 1980's Earth hotel with their greatest fears, and the Doctor defeats him by sending his companion into an existential crisis.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
One episode later he saves a chubby house-husband from being forcibly turned into a robot by reminding him of how much he loves his kid. Man, it would have been nice if any of the millions of other victims of <a href="http://tardis.wikia.com/wiki/Cyber-conversion" target="_blank">cyber-conversion</a> had families to think about (they did - it didn't help).</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
They had spent 50 years establishing a setting and people got used to what sort of things were possible within the scope of this universe. We know what the TARDIS and sonic screwdriver can do. Psychic paper is all right by me. All these things have limitations. If the Doctor's trapped in a wooden box, we know the screwdriver isn't going to help (it doesn't do wood). But when you add feels to his list of weapons as a vague "I will this to work" tool, it cheapens the rest of it.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Wedding_of_River_Song" target="_blank">The Wedding of River Song</a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0DPa_SU8beU9S0rHR-2FJgBouuMKel5WC6-l-0RoWBe8usmAHDQAlLTA8IhYNIEwrQJ28EsSJzIpzgstI-IdeDdWf-qzHycqrkK3gRAdlqlbN0xVLWZVCryn_4EMsbdL_fsKwdqErxR4p/s1600/Doctor-Who-The-Wedding-of-007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0DPa_SU8beU9S0rHR-2FJgBouuMKel5WC6-l-0RoWBe8usmAHDQAlLTA8IhYNIEwrQJ28EsSJzIpzgstI-IdeDdWf-qzHycqrkK3gRAdlqlbN0xVLWZVCryn_4EMsbdL_fsKwdqErxR4p/s320/Doctor-Who-The-Wedding-of-007.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
So the Doctor that died on the beach was the Doctor shrunken inside of a mechanical Doctor suit the whole time.<br />
<br />
Fine. Whatever.<br />
<br />
Except that if that's the case, then where did all of the regeneration energy come from after River shot the robot? By the way, River Shot the Robot would be a great album title. There was never any mention of the suit having any holographic capabilities, but that's all it would have taken to explain that away.<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br />
I like having a mystery to solve. I don't even care if I'm right in the end, I just need the story to make sure its got its facts straight, or else I'm going to feel like they just pulled it out of their ass. I'm looking at you, entirety of "Lost."<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Sure, there's a lot of plot holes and questionable story telling going on around here, but does that warrant a man getting buggered by a syphilitic half-lion half-eagle Greek monster? No, of course not. This is just the beginning. </div>
Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-51420913644454882872012-09-17T17:47:00.001-04:002012-09-17T23:35:41.636-04:00Goodbye Ms. Downey<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-g8NWaitSJTJd5Xol2RWVbsAUesOQRhTA96sNrDiG6AYngOTc9HloX7Dd9_MVFDlrDG4WM-zvcnArGgAxI7TbgDVGvX09Soa1ThqoxleBk0psDWoS6eM_1wqKx07LhAqBflXz1oxXewf/s1600/218069_10151093292818621_1857850098_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht-g8NWaitSJTJd5Xol2RWVbsAUesOQRhTA96sNrDiG6AYngOTc9HloX7Dd9_MVFDlrDG4WM-zvcnArGgAxI7TbgDVGvX09Soa1ThqoxleBk0psDWoS6eM_1wqKx07LhAqBflXz1oxXewf/s320/218069_10151093292818621_1857850098_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pictured here reveling in their superiority to<br />
the commoners who walk beneath them</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
On August 24th, 2012, my dear friend Katie Downey put on a fancy dress and became Katie Mueller. <br />
<br />
There was also some guy in a tux, he seemed nice.<br />
<br />
I love going to weddings because they are all about three people. In order of importance it’s:<br />
<br />
1. The Bride<br />
<br />
2. The Groom<br />
<br />
3. Adam Jones<br />
<br />
<br />
Not many people know that, but it’s true. Now, I never interfere with ceremonies, toasts, or pictures, but in those brief moments when it’s not about the bride and groom, it’s Adam Jones’ time to shine. Buffets, open bars, and dance floors are my ancestral home and where I feel most at ease.<br />
<br />
Then I get to win.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq36lCO6fXrzBw2tJrr0jNTB1kRGqV024rqlruuxQ0WSujYjrSpUFslXya2iNN8XI1DyuwFENTHaa1uNHB5QxOMCHRUYt375GSRE_0YdD-rMkejk15zrws_zIjMwGbHRd85QxSPvyUavGe/s1600/564015_10151093321138621_117203718_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq36lCO6fXrzBw2tJrr0jNTB1kRGqV024rqlruuxQ0WSujYjrSpUFslXya2iNN8XI1DyuwFENTHaa1uNHB5QxOMCHRUYt375GSRE_0YdD-rMkejk15zrws_zIjMwGbHRd85QxSPvyUavGe/s320/564015_10151093321138621_117203718_n.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pictured here bowing in appreciation of<br />
the applause, ‘cause I’m a classy bitch.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
See, the reason that I rank so high on the list during an event that ostensibly has nothing to do with me is that I understand the game. Weddings are a contest that one can win, and I always win. All I have to do is catch the garter belt. The reason that I always win is that I’m not afraid to knock a bitch over to catch the prize in a Once-in-a-lifetime Championship Underwear event. Any fear of trampling innocent partygoers in what some believe to be a harmless tradition is washed away by a half-dozen flutes of champagne. <br />
<br />
On this particular evening the groom decided to toy with us by aiming the garter to and fro, up and down before he released. Normally I refused to be manipulated, but there is no room for shame in a garter toss; I circled the crowd as his aim shifted. In the end, it fell short, almost directly behind him. I dashed forward and landed in a power slide, beating out my closest opponent by mere inches. So powerful was my slide, it left a streak on the floor.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxcaUiLzADnXuPSUsHmQNNNBrFab9QEjEJrm_SDwrTCFqC02EdHqeZ8RGskLfUm-uf5kUehZZafbxOSMlta1zjF9TcaAAd14jhUVLAqVIbpfh_wa78SpUUrtC-U82Pxfbwpze7YxQhsno/s1600/603274_10151093338723621_1604114994_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxcaUiLzADnXuPSUsHmQNNNBrFab9QEjEJrm_SDwrTCFqC02EdHqeZ8RGskLfUm-uf5kUehZZafbxOSMlta1zjF9TcaAAd14jhUVLAqVIbpfh_wa78SpUUrtC-U82Pxfbwpze7YxQhsno/s320/603274_10151093338723621_1604114994_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pictured here suspiciously eying something to my right.<br />
Whatever it was, I’m sure I protected everyone from it. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I then proceeded to mingle and dance maniacally, both of which are easier as a <strike>drunkard</strike> champion. There were so many of the best people I know there. <br />
<br />
This goes down in my book as the best wedding that I have so far attended. Good job everyone.<br />
<br />
We all love you very much, Katie. I cannot express how much joy I hope is in your future, but I have no doubt that it will be there waiting for you. Consider yourself blessed by the Reverend Doctor Jones.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Only once the last song began to play did I reveal the true glory of Adam Jones. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvEbDVkcy2AtYVfzdJrsph-095P5erxJx1VDyOteqemz37ygSg4MnNXjZ4FtoPi4SvgWMH1SIIHIzj5sCBu3haP3WA9XO3ebSnYn2Elal7KmLvPVUWWggrW50M6-mPZ3VdrUWR-OvXp581/s1600/316864_10151093341038621_45803989_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvEbDVkcy2AtYVfzdJrsph-095P5erxJx1VDyOteqemz37ygSg4MnNXjZ4FtoPi4SvgWMH1SIIHIzj5sCBu3haP3WA9XO3ebSnYn2Elal7KmLvPVUWWggrW50M6-mPZ3VdrUWR-OvXp581/s320/316864_10151093341038621_45803989_n.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pictured here being awesome.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Anyone have any awesome wedding experiences they’d like to share?<br />
<br />
Oh, and all the pictures were from the lovely and talented <a href="http://photobygannon.com/" target="_blank">Annie Gannon Kaufman</a>.Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-16187444866290717772012-09-10T13:04:00.000-04:002012-09-10T13:12:20.827-04:00Short Story: Squirrel Troubles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://rabbitruncottage.blogspot.com/2009/03/kips-big-irish-adventure.html" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyxB4OURkfmiP3sTGbtAXtK8nP4Z4WoUqK3XyYnVcS_G5Zx8COtKhZz7ZLWL4E17PwG4HMRLcoVk2n6F5kFg5_GYkIH6NXDTsM5VtWZI_Jl1H1DNcsdri85EkTBHGLIR5Z9N1LBYPKgU_7/s320/irishsquirrel.jpg" width="269" /></a></div>
One of the things I wanted to do with this blog was to use it as a vehicle to share the short stories and poems that I write. I also wanted to start writing short stories and poems...<br />
<br />
So now I have!<br />
<br />
Below is a tiny little story that I recently put together and I'm sharing it with you here on MeetAdamJones.com. If you have any comments of suggestions for future material, let me know in the comments.<br />
<br />
Love you!<br />
<br />
<style type="text/css"><!--
@page { margin: 0.79in }
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in }
-->
</style>
<br />
<br />
<br />
Squirrel Troubles<br />
<br />
<style type="text/css"><!--
@page { margin: 0.79in }
P { margin-bottom: 0.08in }
-->
</style>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
When the youngest McMillan girl moved
out, she put her childhood toys in the attic of her parent's shed.
Each treasured memory was placed lovingly, for she would be back for
them one day (there was just no room in her new apartment). To make
sure that her dolls were sufficiently content without her, she
fashioned a tea room out of her old play-sets and put it by the
window overlooking her family's orchard. There were tiny tables,
cups, counters, and even a functional piano. When it got dark, she
hung up a couple of strings of old Christmas lights so she could keep
working. Once she was satisfied that everything was in order, she
climbed down the ladder and embarked (as bravely as she could) upon
her new life.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The toys in the attic sat undisturbed
until the cold winds of autumn came. The walls of the McMillan house
became home to a nice family of field mice, the barn took in some
owls, and the attic of the shed became a hangout for some of the
local squirrels. Murray, an older squirrel, was still tough from a
lifetime of hard work, but beginning to wizen. It was Murray who
first found the attic and took to passing out acorns of the farmer's
hidden cider to others who happened by. This caused others to happen
by quite frequently. After a few weeks of experimentation in various
states of sobriety, a young squirrel named Chauncey learned to
produce something quite resembling the Blues from the tiny piano.
Chauncey, though young, had lived a turbulent life and was able to
express it through notes sometimes haunting and sometimes mellow.
Folks would stop by under the glow of the forgotten Christmas lights,
offer Murray up a bit of food, and enjoy the company, or just a quiet
drink by the window.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Gary was usually quite lively. He was
the type that tried to be a bit more clever than he was. Some of his
jokes would have people clutching their sides and twitching their
tails. Other jokes brought out the one halfhearted laugh that
trailed away as they looked for something that needed them to be
elsewhere. That night, though, Gary was the quiet drink by the
window type.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
A lady-squirrel climbed the ladder and
placed the acorn she was carrying on the counter. Murray popped its
top, scooped out its guts into his food pile, and filled it with
cider. After making some small talk and placing a kernel of corn by
Chauncey’s piano, she made her way to Gary’s table. “Is this
seat taken?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“Shelly! Hey,
yeah. I mean no, it’s not taken. Please, have a seat.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
She set her drink
down and got comfortable. “So, what have you been up to?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“Nothing
interesting. Looking for food, chewing holes, same as ever. What
about you?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“Same thing, I
guess. The other day I thought I heard something, so I stopped
everything and looked around. I think I nearly had a heart attack,
but it turns out there wasn’t anything there. I do that a lot
these days.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“Yeah, me too,”
he added with a laugh. “All the time I’m like ‘Huh? What was
that?’ and it’s never anything. I swear, sometimes I think these
woods are haunted.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“Yeah, wouldn’t
that be something?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“Heh, yeah…”
They sipped their drinks and tried not to be uncomfortable for a
while before he continued. “So, I haven’t seen you in a coon’s
age. What are you even doing here? I thought you moved out to the
Dodson farm to be with your new man.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
Her body sunk.
“He…” Her voice trailed off and her eyes fell to her cider.
“There was… an owl.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“Oh, oh no,”
Gary whispered. “I am so sorry. I hadn’t heard.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“Don’t worry
about it.” Shelly shook away the memories that had begun to creep
back into her and resumed the confident posture that had given her so
much comfort. “It was a while ago now. I tried to keep my life
out there going, but it was too much. I just moved back about a week
ago. Trying to start fresh.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
He offered her a
warm smile. “Well, it’s good to see you.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“Thanks. You,
too.” She couldn’t help but return the smile. “So what’s
wrong?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“How do you
mean?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
She indicated his
seat at the table. “You’re sitting in your sad drinking spot.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
He looked down at
himself. “Ah, right. It’s just, I’ve been seeing this one
girl for a while.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“Things not
going well?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“On the
contrary, things are great. In fact, I’m trying to figure out a
way to ask her to marry me.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
Her little voice
shrank a bit. “Oh.” She traced her paw aimlessly across the
doll’s table. “So why the sad drinking?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“I’m trying to
think of some super romantic way of doing it.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“Why? You’re
no good at that kind of thing,” she teased.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“I know! That’s
the problem. See, her last boyfriend was that kind of guy. He’d
write her poems and bring her nuts with little hearts etched into
them.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“Well, if he was
so great, why did they split?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“She caught him
taking his nuts to someone else.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
Shelly chuckled a
bit. “Then maybe she’s better off with someone without as much…
imagination.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“Heh, that’s
what I’ve been telling her.” Gary took a deep breath. “I know
she loves me, but I also know that she misses the good parts of that
relationship. I can’t give her a lifetime of it, but I should at
least be able to do something romantic when I ask her to be my wife.
She deserves that… but… I don’t know if I can.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
She took a long
draught of cider, was about to speak, and then took another. Once
she had wiped away the drop from the side of her mouth she replied
“Of course you can. You’re one of the best squirrels I’ve ever
known. You may not be a hopeless romantic, but you can do anything
once you’ve set your mind to it. Tell me, how did you meet?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
He wanted to thank
her, but she changed the subject too quickly. “We met right over
there by the bar. I overheard her talking about how nervous she was
going home. The cat had been in the trees a lot recently and she
wasn’t sure what to do. I offered to walk her home. We got there
safe, talked a lot, and really hit it off.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
Shelly furrowed
her brow and rested her face in her paw. “Squirrel-Jesus, Gary.
You really are thick. Just get her and some friends and family here,
tell them all that story, and say something about how you would like
to be able to watch over her and walk her home for the rest of your
lives. Bingo-bango, you have a fiancée.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“Wow, that’s a
good idea.” He looked off in the distance at nothing in
particular. “Yeah, that fits the bill. I think that’s what I’ll
do! I owe you one. Tell you what, next time I come up here, I’ll
bring an extra acorn. Your next drink is on me.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“That sounds
nice. Be sure to tell me how it goes.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“But, you’ll
be there, won’t you Shelly?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
She hesitated for
a couple of beats before she answered. “Of course I will… that
sounds nice. Anyway, I should get going.” Her words were strained
and empty as she stood to leave. “Lots to do.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“Oh…okay.
Well, it really was good seeing you. Let me know if there’s ever
anything I can do. You’ve been a great help.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
“Yeah, I’ll
make sure to do that.” She waved and walked to the exit.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: 0.49in;">
Gary lost himself
in thought about the upcoming proposal, and wedding, and honeymoon,
and family. Shelly climbed down the ladder and embarked (as bravely
as she could) upon her new life.</div>
Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-70181400127104584502012-09-06T15:52:00.000-04:002012-09-07T09:01:05.977-04:00Gremlin GripesI have recently taken to storing my hammer next to my computer. I have felt the need to remind it that I am the boss and how much damage I can do to it. Nuisance after nuisance have troubled me for weeks, and half of them have come from my computer. I am not a Luddite. I am not a newb. I do computery things for a living and I generally know wtf I'm doing. However, I have faced a string of Murphy's law type tech troubles and have come to the only reasonable conclusion:<br />
<br />
Gremlins.<br />
<br />
There are one or more mischievous fey following me and sabotaging every computer I use until I am so mad that I am reduced to a sputtering mass of flailing rage. I needed to find relief, so I turned to the place I was sure had the wisdom that could deliver me from this chaos:<br />
<br />
The Internet.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8y4h6TDZidGXfacYjUzxDmUDZV3o5xKUfgWm09dAF-FCG6QeocveZYE1u5Z1xZCrIYDRoiciGVGWhkvciPxJX4lYtsBtXTz3PAFvHzwoTX1sgdYogMyS3WjLPGzdxirPe3EXTe17YgOLb/s1600/Warwik+Gremlin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8y4h6TDZidGXfacYjUzxDmUDZV3o5xKUfgWm09dAF-FCG6QeocveZYE1u5Z1xZCrIYDRoiciGVGWhkvciPxJX4lYtsBtXTz3PAFvHzwoTX1sgdYogMyS3WjLPGzdxirPe3EXTe17YgOLb/s1600/Warwik+Gremlin.jpg" /></a></div>
Now, I was hoping for some Grade-A quackery right off the bat. I thought I was in immediate luck when I found a search result called: <a href="http://warwickdavis.co.uk/get-rid-of-your-gremlins" target="_blank">Warwick Davis - Get Rid of Your Gremlins</a>. Sadly, it has to do with an adult education program in the UK in which he was participating. I was at least able to get this sweet midget/gremlin pic, so not a total loss.<br />
<br />
As it turns out, gremlins have become a metaphor for self-doubt in the self-help community, which diluted my "how to get rid of gremlins" searches with instances of people trying to improve the lives of others.<br />
<br />
Useless.<br />
<br />
In my search I did find <a href="http://james.hamsterrepublic.com/technomancy/" target="_blank">this delightful satire</a> on Hamster Republic on the nature of Technomancy and how it applies to your computer. It's a little lengthy, but it does posses some valuable insights into the supernatural evils that are computers, such as<i> "Take a screwdriver, open up your computer, and take a look at the
circuit boards. They are usually green, and are covered with complex patterns of thin copper
lines. These are </i>Circuit Runes<i>, written in arcane and ancient languages that describe the
magic spells that bind the imps to the chips."</i><br />
<br />
I was able to find a <a href="http://hafapea.com/magickpages/spells3.html#gremlin" target="_blank">genuine spell</a> to get rid of gremlins, but sadly, it only works on laundry machines. Seems awfully specific, but hey, if that's your issue, then it's super-convenient.<br />
<i><br /></i>
I found a <a href="http://www.musesrealm.net/deities/gremlins.html" target="_blank">gremlins listing</a> on handy little supernatural bestiary. Turns out that the natural enemy of the gremlin is the pigeon. However, I have never been able to catch a pigeon and I'm not willing to pay the <a href="http://www.buyingpigeons.com/" target="_blank">$265 it would take</a> to get the cheapest set. This site claims that they can also be lured into empty beer bottles. Now this makes sense. I usually drink heavily when I'm cruising through the vast sea of inappropriateness of the Internet, so there's usually bottles strewn about. A few weeks ago I started to keep things a little cleaner and that's when everything went downhill.<br />
<br />
Life lesson learned?<br />
Drink more and stop cleaning up after yourself.<br />
<br />
That won't last long, I have too much to do. My liver, education, and I could use the help of my wonderful readers. You guys have any advise on how to get rid of/appease these guys?Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673512050718459778.post-32858120231096543712012-09-04T23:16:00.000-04:002012-09-05T00:31:44.582-04:00I'm Drunk and You're a Princess, So...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNQw20jibUtz0-fVrENXx3ItWW1EhV-mfN5abCXjZlYzhPvx5k5J7V0ROS_Get_3ziQiRdeHsebGXArf_FszFDqamXETmcc8KNuQTusjofG7CMmZLlZmJjLzQuQUP0z0jHnYyP-r3JlpWB/s1600/Birthday3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7AG4owXfVCcm0zT0I9HTxIfuTEl7cZt1VFNodgzTMJidleA1Geh4ICGZ3D5Rp7Gy6RrKRvt2w9QfNzLVg02YCc9fPAauB9KlYqBCCbcsyGDoJ4Lhb8mc3WSbkQWNfZTR88_Ncq2Jq8aRP/s1600/Birthday1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7AG4owXfVCcm0zT0I9HTxIfuTEl7cZt1VFNodgzTMJidleA1Geh4ICGZ3D5Rp7Gy6RrKRvt2w9QfNzLVg02YCc9fPAauB9KlYqBCCbcsyGDoJ4Lhb8mc3WSbkQWNfZTR88_Ncq2Jq8aRP/s1600/Birthday1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7AG4owXfVCcm0zT0I9HTxIfuTEl7cZt1VFNodgzTMJidleA1Geh4ICGZ3D5Rp7Gy6RrKRvt2w9QfNzLVg02YCc9fPAauB9KlYqBCCbcsyGDoJ4Lhb8mc3WSbkQWNfZTR88_Ncq2Jq8aRP/s640/Birthday1.jpg" width="536" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUn4Sp9N2eoAGvjlJDiFQ-T34xBbBlghIYobkW11vZop4R52ezkkE43K_ZrVsRE5ed5J76dgpP7R9EC5bo5Aadh5hRhBTuUEjdpESiBzgCjuELFE-fjvgyFRWNxO2PtXKEi22xgeHCJBPM/s1600/Birthday2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUn4Sp9N2eoAGvjlJDiFQ-T34xBbBlghIYobkW11vZop4R52ezkkE43K_ZrVsRE5ed5J76dgpP7R9EC5bo5Aadh5hRhBTuUEjdpESiBzgCjuELFE-fjvgyFRWNxO2PtXKEi22xgeHCJBPM/s640/Birthday2.jpg" width="536" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNQw20jibUtz0-fVrENXx3ItWW1EhV-mfN5abCXjZlYzhPvx5k5J7V0ROS_Get_3ziQiRdeHsebGXArf_FszFDqamXETmcc8KNuQTusjofG7CMmZLlZmJjLzQuQUP0z0jHnYyP-r3JlpWB/s1600/Birthday3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNQw20jibUtz0-fVrENXx3ItWW1EhV-mfN5abCXjZlYzhPvx5k5J7V0ROS_Get_3ziQiRdeHsebGXArf_FszFDqamXETmcc8KNuQTusjofG7CMmZLlZmJjLzQuQUP0z0jHnYyP-r3JlpWB/s640/Birthday3.jpg" width="536" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTy3qvwVZHJQiJI4fEfl8hDqqjKzj0CQAIvZ3EAZQkvl0tEbx2DPZqhaiP5h9IaqqoBXXEFedcxUpP4wOrFV0vbArS5-QBh28BUENG9LvrElYMmNEAf9BAt4fejfqmpt_AgTfBd1-dum8U/s1600/Birthday4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTy3qvwVZHJQiJI4fEfl8hDqqjKzj0CQAIvZ3EAZQkvl0tEbx2DPZqhaiP5h9IaqqoBXXEFedcxUpP4wOrFV0vbArS5-QBh28BUENG9LvrElYMmNEAf9BAt4fejfqmpt_AgTfBd1-dum8U/s640/Birthday4.jpg" width="536" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoq-m7Y6lRbgVWvwS5BGpBXKmf2ubUmrV_eFubjTxgfCAgucIU59ceQzLp3qZQI5PSDrtg1QsYmZUKTq5i08D6WdvO4MV6mDw34_LHwSVf3gWuic8pKb3LtZAIxL2qAUqfr6XzvH4ho1cS/s1600/Birthday5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoq-m7Y6lRbgVWvwS5BGpBXKmf2ubUmrV_eFubjTxgfCAgucIU59ceQzLp3qZQI5PSDrtg1QsYmZUKTq5i08D6WdvO4MV6mDw34_LHwSVf3gWuic8pKb3LtZAIxL2qAUqfr6XzvH4ho1cS/s640/Birthday5.jpg" width="536" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTy3qvwVZHJQiJI4fEfl8hDqqjKzj0CQAIvZ3EAZQkvl0tEbx2DPZqhaiP5h9IaqqoBXXEFedcxUpP4wOrFV0vbArS5-QBh28BUENG9LvrElYMmNEAf9BAt4fejfqmpt_AgTfBd1-dum8U/s1600/Birthday4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUn4Sp9N2eoAGvjlJDiFQ-T34xBbBlghIYobkW11vZop4R52ezkkE43K_ZrVsRE5ed5J76dgpP7R9EC5bo5Aadh5hRhBTuUEjdpESiBzgCjuELFE-fjvgyFRWNxO2PtXKEi22xgeHCJBPM/s1600/Birthday2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoq-m7Y6lRbgVWvwS5BGpBXKmf2ubUmrV_eFubjTxgfCAgucIU59ceQzLp3qZQI5PSDrtg1QsYmZUKTq5i08D6WdvO4MV6mDw34_LHwSVf3gWuic8pKb3LtZAIxL2qAUqfr6XzvH4ho1cS/s1600/Birthday5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
Adam Joneshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13490560632699303829noreply@blogger.com1