Please Stand By

Bear with me, folks. I'm making a lot of changes to the site formatting, so things will be a little irregular for a bit.

Steven Colbert for President

So, Steven Colbert is running for President and I've been trying to process what that means for his show, the elections and US (as in the USA). On the surface, his decision could be nothing more than a clever gimmick to give himself more material to work with. After all, his show is based around satirizing the news and he never misses an opportunity to boast about his personal media wake. While I'm sure he'll milk the premise for gallons of humor, I'm still left with the preposterous question: what if he wins?

Oh, of course he won't. The loyal members of the Colbert Nation don't represent a significant portion of the voting population, nor are they all likely to cast their ballot at this historical footnote. Plus, as cynical as some Americans are, voting a comedian into the highest office would be make everyone the punchline to a very cruel joke. However, Colbert is breaking important ground. He is a successful media personality with 30-minutes of daily soapboxing on all the issues currently being debated. He has the perfect platform - everyone already knows he's a two-faced liar because it's part of his act, whereas we are left to assume that other politicians follow the Judas path. He is not required to join any debates or come up with a plan for a health care cure all. His bid for the presidency is risk free: all of the publicity, with none of the baggage.

For me, what makes his decision so monumental, is that he has opened the door for media personalities to enter political discussions as the characters they play. The concept is absurd, but improbable concepts can become mundane through exposure (remember Alf?) So it may only be a matter of time before we see the actors of our youth become the politicians of our future.

Put Charles in Charge
Baio/Aames 2012



PDJ

No Dog. Beware of Manager.

The following is a post about my job:

We get a lot of sales people coming into the shop. Despite the sign on the front window right next to the door that says "NO SOLICITING," they trundle in and attempt to ply their wares. Mind you, they aren't peddling unbreakable knives, cordless vacuum cleaners, or Girl Scout cookies. No, their merchandise is ten thousand dollar color copiers that mail merge, fold, staple, bind, and make mochaccinos in-line. Normally, these guys wouldn't be a problem.

But my new boss used to be a children's pastor at an area church. He's new to the business and likes making people feel like they're doing well, even if they're bloodless carrion-feeders from the United Association of Merde You Don't Need. What he's only now beginning to understand is that these people don't know the meaning of "mild interest." He says, "I'm thinking of getting a new machine next fall," and they hear, "Come by every day and pester me until I sign a lease." He's a softie, and there's nothing wrong with that, but sales folk need a firm hand. They're like bear. Like underage alcoholic freshman bear. You give them anything, and they'll never leave you alone.

Now, I've got a roller in my desk. It's a hardened rubber rod with a steel core about eighteen inches long that Ikon uses to push paper through their industrial-grade copiers, and I'm aching to use it like Mr. Echo's Jesus Stick on the next rabid solicitor who comes through our door. I take the text "No Soliciting" very seriously. To me, it means that if you ignore it and enter the office anyway, you waive any and all right to a cordial exchange. I respect the bravery and testicular fortitude it takes to be a cold-calling sales person, but there are rules in businesses.

So, if you happen to be a seller of printing supplies, beware of ignoring signs on your next sales call. The person on the other side of the counter might be me.

Three Blogs in Three Days

It's like I'm the Mad Midnight Poster What Posts at Midnight! Only I don't post at midnight, I just post frequently. Lately.

I saw something wonderfully thought-provoking the other day. The story begins as my wife and I were on our way home from working out. See, we periodically spend time at the local 24-hour Fitness Emporium of Medieval Torture, flogging ourselves and hurting our bodies under the guise of "healthy activity." My idea of healthy activity requires either a jungle gym or a bed. Maybe both. Seriously, does anyone else get depressed going to gyms? It's such a sordid affair! Walk in, avoid eye contact, don't get too close to anyone else, and please God, don't raise your voice loud enough to be heard more than a foot away. Grown men and women either slink around the place trying not to be noticed, or they grunt and flaunt and flex like rutting moose.

Imagine, if thou wilst, if children treated their playgrounds the way grown-ups treated their gyms. Down and back twice on the hand-over-hand bars, ten pumps on the swing, "Are you finished with the rope ladder? No, it's cool. Take your time," five runs on the slide and remember to maintain proper posture, then round it out with 20 laps around the playground. They'd stand in line next to see-saws, taking swigs from water bottles and acting like they're always out of breath, stretching occasionally, and not playing with anyone else. That's why gyms are absurd.

That and, at our 24, there is a young woman who smells overwhelmingly of vanilla perfume. I'm neither joking nor exaggerating when I say that it would be possible to track this girl through a forest at night simply by following the scent. If she remains stationary at, say, an elliptical machine, the perfume wafts to a range of about thirty feet. I don't personally regard this as awful, being a fan of vanilla, but it has made me consider going to Wal-mart, buying the most pungent orange-scented cologne they have on the shelf, dousing myself and going to 24 where Vanilla Girl and I can combine our powers and make the whole place smell like a giant creamsicle. I personally maintain that more people would be interested in fitness if it didn't ferociously project an aura of grueling seriousness. Physical activity should be fun, not a second job.

So, anyway, on our way home from the Tower of London, there's a business with the best readerboard in town. It's always got some witty quote or tidbit on it, and the last time I went by, the following quote was indelibly writ upon my cerebral cortex.

"Fanaticism consists in redoubling your effort when you have forgotten your aim."

George Santayana said that in 1905, and it's just as true in 2007. I believe that we Americans have forgotten our aim, and it's past time to remember what we're doing and why. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm going to be thinking of Santayana's words next November.

This is what a post looks like when I don't input a title. Interesting. So, to follow-up on my review of The Heartbreak Kid, here's a rundown of the trailers attached thereupon.

27 Dresses - Written by red-hot Hollywood commodity Aline Brosh McKenna (Devil Wears Prada), and starring Katherine Heigl (fresh off her Emmy) and James Marsden (fresh off being incinerated in X-Men 3), this flick looks like it'll be well worth taking your date to if my wife's reaction is to be at all trusted. Heigl plays the lovelorn perpetual bridesmaid forced to plan the wedding of her sister to the man she loves. I have a thought on the usage of weddings/marriage in modern romantic comedies, but it'll need more time to percolate. Moving on.

P.S. I Love You - Quite possibly the most original idea I've seen in a long time. Hilary Swank plays the grieving widow of Irishman Gerard Butler. When her grief begins to consume her, she starts receiving letters from her late husband. Arranged before his death, he's set up a series of tasks and adventures for her to make sure her life doesn't end just because his did. The preview makes it look good; I just hope the film lives up to the promise.

Dan in Real Life - Steve Carell in a dramedy? Preposterous as that may sound, I believe this movie will win him a whole new demographic of fans as a widower who is struggling with his children and his parents. This is a film whose TV spots will almost certainly contain the famous hyphenations of "heart-felt" and "feel-good," and with good reason. Plus, any trailer using "Let My Love Open the Door" by Townsend is a shoo-in for me.

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street - Great googly-moogly! Johnny Depp is perfection already as the vengeful barber, and Helena Bonham Carter as his pie-making partner in crime. Round out the cast with Alan Rickman and Sacha Baron Cohen, add Tim Burton's darkly twisted style, and this movie looks like it'll be a splendid holiday feast. Depp is so great as Todd, it's going to leave you asking "Jack who?" Did I mention it's a musical?

And that's the good stuff for you, my friends. This holiday season is going to have some good theater crack, so line up and have your credit cards ready.

Updates

Just a few things to throw your way under the heading of "We're not dead." I went to see The Heartbreak Kid on Sunday. Short review, skip it. Long review, go here. Also, check out the new House Rules comic, and we'll have more comics for ya in a couple days.

The internet is weird

I posted a post at 9 in the morning,
I can't think of a rhyme for morning
Bad poetry sucks

The world needs to know about this

Today, browncoats were blessed with a wonderful piece of internet rumor-mongering.

http://www.moviehole.net/news/20071004_serenity_2_a_new_hope.html

I hope it is true. That's pretty much all I can bring myself to say (you know, for fear of jinxing it). Let's discuss how cool this is in the comments section.

Week 'o premieres: round up

Greetings gentle readers,

So last week is over and the new shows are still coming. This week we get the culturally embarrassing Cavemen and the return of the Sarah Silverman Program. However that's for tomorrow, today is for yesterday's stuff.

REAPER: A quirky, dark supernatural comedy about the devil's bounty hunter on earth. The first episode worked on several levels, combining elements of Ghostbusters and Buffy with a little Kevin Smith (who directed the pilot) humor thrown in. Currently, it's in a race with Bionic Woman for my favorite freshmen series. 10/11

KID NATION: After watching this show, you can see that these children are in serious danger: of winning money! We all know kids can be petty (almost as much as adults) and now they are responsible for giving $20k to a fellow pioneer each week. There is no real danger here, unless parents are worried that kids will learn life lessons without them. The show feels both safe and exploitive at the same time. I find it fascinating, but you might find it gross. Watch at your own risk. 8/11

MOONLIGHT: A vampire detective show that copies Angel but doesn't include the wit/charm/story (ie. good stuff). I got 20 minutes in and then gave up. Sorry, but this show sucks. 5/11

Premiere Leeks: Day 3

I don't have an explanation for my title, I just like potato leek soup and thought it deserved a shout out. Now then, onto TV. Sadly Journeyman and Reaper are caught in Tivo limbo at the moment so I'm focusing on the freshest show I've seen.

Bionic Woman

If just reading the show's title makes you a little skeptic, then you and I are in the same demographic boat. I tend to view remakes of dated shows with a cautious eye. It always looks like a gamble. If the creators screw up, all they’ve done is piss off a fan base and add their names to the sorry list of writers/directors whose pride overshadowed their ability. However, every once in a while I’m surprised at how much a reinterpretation can improve and augment a show’s mythos. At their best, remakes distill the elements that translate to modern audiences into potent coolness. Such was the success of Bionic Woman. I can’t argue perfection, but it’s the freshman series to beat and one on the top tier of remakes of all time. The action is fast and impressive, the characters are well-defined and occasionally funny, and the story pulls you in and leaves you wanting more. If you were waiting for a show to take a chance on, this is your best bet so far. 10/11

Next up are leftovers (Journeyman and Reaper) and a few newbies (Kid Nation and Moonlight). Comments: Post 'em if you thought 'em.

premeire weak: day 1

Yes, I know I misspelled 'week'. It's meant to be a not-so-subtle commentary on this year's entertainment gladiators (ie. shows) who are battling each other for my attention. Each year the network marches out a new batch of trying-to-be-hip programs that I view as a second job for a few weeks each year. Basically, I put my butt on the couch so you can save yourself the effort (such as it is). Here's what I watched last night.

Survivor China: (original air date was Thursday Sept 20) The old warhorse of reality TV is back with a new location and not much else. The new location offers a nice new flavor, but like all reality shows it comes down to the people. This year's contestants include two pre-packaged television personalities: a professional wrestler and a professional poker player. I am a little annoyed that the fame-making power of Survivor is being milked by people who are already famous. But who cares, their misery will still be my entertainment. Points for a fun cast of misfits and a new location, but if you've seen the show, you know what you're getting. 7/11

Chuck: NBC's bid for total domination of Monday night began here with the story of a low-ambition mildly-charming computer nerd who gets government secrets stuck in his head. The show feels like the scatterbrained lovechild of the Office and 24, combining crazy action (gun play, explosions, and free-walking) with pop culture humor about mundane jobs. The show's premise stretches absurdity as much as The Biggest Loser stretches spandex and by the end viewers won't have a clear idea of what the show will look like from week to week. However if you're satisfied with more chuckles than laughs and an occasional movie-quality stunt, (plus hot girls in their underwear) then give it a whirl. For viewers who don't have an empty spot in their viewing schedule, wait and see if this pony has more than one trick. 7/11

Heroes (season 2): The story of extremely good looking ordinary people with super powers begins here, four months after last season's finale. Generally speaking, the episode was as good as most of last season and laid some foundation for where it will go next. But, if you didn't like last season or felt that each episode accomplished less than most single issue comics, then you're SOL. However, if you like the show, you won't get any reasons to stop liking it. 8/11

Okay, that was Monday. Tuesday will be Journeyman (a hold-over from Monday) and Reaper, the Kevin Smith directed comedy about a kid who becomes Satan's bounty hunter. Email me if you want me to watch something in particular as I'm willing to try anything once.

Laters.

A Little Bit o' This...

So I'm back, as one may say, from outer space. I had the orgasmic pleasure of being on vacation this past week, and I've got to say that it has left me a changed man Regarding Henry style. Nate-before-vacation was a narcissistic grouch whose very glance could kill hope in children, and he did nothing but complain about bad customers, political cock-ups, and the temperature of his scrambled eggs. Nate-after-vacation, however, is a shiningly happy man with his eye on a gleaming future, and a flower and hug for all people great and small. Such is the power of vacation. If you have the means, I highly recommend you pick one up.

This past week, I got a surge in traffic from over around the neighborhood of Patrick Rothfuss' blog (his link is on the right there). So, in keeping with the spirit, I'm going to link everyone to someone else who deserves attention. He goes by the name Yahtzee Croshaw, but does hilarious video game reviews for The Escapist under the moniker Zero Punctuation. Also, since I heard once that blogs with links get more views than blogs without, here's his personal website, and here's something else, and how about three in a row. I think that's enough links for everyone.

Peace in.

What's Emmy Got to Do (Got to Do) With It?

It was a great roaring surprise to me that the Emmy's were on last night, not because I've missed all the advertisements proclaiming its arrival, but because I've watched so much TV that my long-term memory is full of commercial jingles rather than useful information. However, if you're keen on the boob-tube, as I am, then here's a rundown if you missed anything. Loads of jokes about Bush and Senator Craig, and a big round of laughs for a stand-up routine featuring Jon Stewart, Steven Colbert, and an "alternative power" leaf-blower fueled by Al Gore's tears. Big winners were James Spader, Katherine Heigl, America Ferrera, Sally Field, Jeremy Piven, Terry O'Quinn, Jaime Pressly, Robert Duvall, Judy Davis, Helen Mirren, Ricky Gervais, 30 Rock, The Sopranos, and Tony Bennett for every single thing he or his one-time TV special was nominated for. If you don't know what these people were nominated for, then you probably don't care that they won anything, so on to other business.

Tomorrow I must begin my yearly vacation or else my government-mandated allotment of vacation hours will disappear. It is a bittersweet duty however. On the one hand, I am being forced to stay home and do whatever I please while still receiving normal pay, but on the other hand...

No, you know what? There is no other hand. This is downright brilliant and a sure-fire recipe for good times. "But, Nate, you sly paragon of virtue," you say. "What about the comic strip(s)?" Well, my dear acolytes, the true glory of this vacation is that it primarily benefits you. I might not be pulling canines and herding babies at my day job, but that doesn't mean I won't be working. Imagine what I'll be able to do when I don't have to spend 8 hours every day being patronized by folk who think a printing press works on the same basic principle as a microwave oven.

Freedom is the greatest creative aphrodisiac, and I intend to guzzle it straight from the teat. Too much imagery? Okay then. There will be a new Kingdom Heights tonight, one on Wednesday, and a new Coming Distractions on Friday. Edit: Two new Reviews.

Avant Nate.

Another straw on an already broken back

I hate FOX. I try not to hate all their shows but I certainly hate how they do business. Let me clarify with an example. Last night I watched an episode of the freshmen series Damages on FX. Normally FX is treated differently from FOX, mainly because its title is missing a vowel, but also because it offers a different quality of programing. Instead of FOX's in-your-face self promotion and seemingly endless talent show model, FX offers quality scripted drama. In fact, FX rivals HBO with its strong bullpen of shows (including: Rescue me, Nip/Tuck, The Shield and new shows like the Riches and the aforementioned Damages).

So as much credit as I want to give FX for not being like FOX, last night I was reminded that they are both part of the same soulless media group owned by Rupert Murdoch. And my reminder seems harmless enough (a promo during the show), but it turned out to be so much worse. Twenty minutes into the episode, the bottom right corner of the screen lit up with an ad for a new episode of Damages next week. Most experienced TV watchers are familiar with this type of promotion, but last night the ad was augmented by sound effects. An angry hissing noise and a metaliac woosh drowned out the sound of the show. So, the show I was watching distracted me so it could remind me to keep watching the same show later. I hate you FOX.

I know networks are nervous about their commercial advertising dollars when more and more consumers are adopting DVR's and Tivo's. I know that in-show advertisements work (because I was incapable of ignoring it). But the trend towards inserting more 'subtle' ads into shows has to be tempered with some awareness of the audience's needs. And in this case, I need to be able to hear the show I'm watching. When the sound accidentally cuts out for a program (usually accompanied by the banner: "we're experiencing audio difficulties) I am willing to forgive the network. However, I resent an intentional distraction that functions in the same way. Dammit FOX, it's bad enough that I watch any of your shows, I don't need any more reasons to hate you. Can't you see my back is already broken?

Not So Much a Blog as a Bramble

Hoorah for a new review for Superbad! Check it out, then read the rest of this.

It shouldn't come as a shock to any of the literally dozen of readers who frequent this blog that things have become a little lax in the art department here at KSP. Updates to Kingdom Heights are occurring about as often as I phone my brother (embarrassingly infrequent), and as for Coming Distractions, well I'll just use this altered version of the most recent strip to point out a few problems.

I'll be the first one to admit that I'm my own worst critic, but in cases such as this, I feel the purely empirical evidence supports such a harsh review. I was in a terrible hurry to finish the strip (it being past deadline and all, and sure the deadline is self-invented, but if we don't hold ourselves to some kind of standard then we're really no better than Microsoft), so I skimped on the workmanship and cut corners until it more closely resembled a John Carpenter movie than a comic strip of my own creation.

Many times, I've made promises of "more frequent updates" or "regularly scheduled comics" with whipped cream and a pretty-please-don't-stop-visiting-our-site cherry on top, but what it really boils down to is that I possess the deadly combination of being both busy and a slacker. I work all day, and when I come home all I want to do is drool and play video games. Also, while I have a great desire to succeed, I have very little desire to put forth the effort to do so. This can charitably be described as ironic considering I have stars in my eyes and at least as much talent and creativity as the staff of Dark Horse Comics (or twice as much as Top Cow). However, there may be a cure for this apathy.

There's a problem that I once heard called Paralysis of Analysis, where one becomes so caught up in the consideration of his or her actions (and the consequences thereof) that no action is ever actually taken. This is what happens when a good boy who doesn't wish to disappoint his parents starts a website which is viewed by almost every member of his family and he spends most of his "work" time curled into a ball wondering what jokes are acceptable to crack without resulting in a lengthy discussion on the topic of morality and the socio-economic repercussions of using the word "shit" purely for comic value in a cartoon. How much pressure can you put on a person's need for parental approval before he finally snaps and cries "Bugger all!" and flees into the hills?

Naturally, this is all purely rhetorical and puting it down here is something of a cathartic enema, but for some reason I feel the need to fling it all out at you like a monkey in a zoo. It's not really any of your business. However, if I cared about privacy, I wouldn't have a website. I would like to say that this little 200 gigabytes of internet bandwidth is officially where I cut away, and it may be a little tumultuous at first (perhaps a tightly-contained explosion of everything that's been bottled-up) as I settle on exactly how looney I'm going to get, but rest assured that it'll be no more destructive than the changing of a season. And maybe this time, I'm going to stick to my metaphorical guns because King Sheep Productions is about what we like.

And bugger all.

Dopplegangeresque

I'm sure we've all had that moment when a complete and utter stranger walks up to you and says "You look so familiar. Do I know you?" When I was young and arrogant, I would say "In your dreams." Then when I became older and even more arrogant, I would say "In your dreams," but with a Frank Sinatra smoothness to it. Now that I'm older yet and lost some of my arrogance, I say "I don't think so."

In college, this whole "don't I know you?" would happen a lot. This is because I have a brother and two sisters and we all bear a striking family resemblance. The saying amongst my friends was "You seen one Taylor, you seen 'em all."

However, since moving to Redmond, cases of mistaken identity have become a weekly event. One woman swore she knew me from the skate park. Anyone who's spent five minutes in my presence knows I couldn't balance on a skateboard to save my soul from Satan. The barista at my regular Starbucks consistently gets my order wrong no matter how many times a week I place my order specifically with her. It's become an experiment of sorts. Another guy was pretty sure I'd gone to school at Western Washington University. I have too much melanin to have gone to Western. A Safeway checker I'd never spoken to before greeted me like an old friend and asked how my dog was. I don't have a dog.

So here are the options. Either I have a very common face or I have a doppleganger on the loose. The latter is a very disturbing option because I thought I had caught them all, Pokemon-style.

Thus, I set out to verify the existence of this evil twin who apparently enjoys deviant sports like skateboarding and perhaps dog-walking. I'll keep you posted, loyal readers.

PS. New Coming Distractions with new voting incentive.

In support of not caring

Hello Gentle Readers,

The following is an except from Slate.com's article about Senator Larry Craig's lewd airport bathroom behavior. When I first heard of this event, I figured the Senator was plagiarizing George Michael's career tailspin and the Senator should find his own way to ruin his life (maybe lewd balloon animals). Anyhow, read and judge for yourself.

Around noon on June 11, Sgt. Dave Karsnia entered a men's room stall at the Minneapolis-St. Paul Airport and sat on a toilet. That wouldn't ordinarily be news, but in this instance Karsnia's presence was not related—or, at least, not primarily related—to the workings of his digestive tract. He was there to investigate complaints about lewd conduct. Within minutes, U.S. Sen. Larry Craig, Republican of Idaho—a state with little tolerance for lascivious conduct—peered into Karsnia's stall, entered the stall to Karsnia's left, and placed a roller bag in front. Craig then tapped his right foot and moved it close to Karsnia's. Karsnia interpreted this as an established signal for sexual solicitation (see police narrative below and on the following page), and replied in kind by raising and lowering his own foot. Craig then extended his fingers into Karsnia's stall. Karsnia placed his police identification by the floor where Craig could see it and pointed to the exit.

Okay, the senator tried to solicit sex in an airport bathroom. And he did it using a moderately polite form of inquiry. In the end, instead of getting what he wanted, he is publicly embarrassed and his career is over. Maybe it's the fact that I'm in the middle of watching Rome on DVD, but I'm growing weary of our country's hang ups over sex. Am I wrong to not care that the Senator is bi-sexual? I would certainly agree that his judgment was off in his choice of pick up locations (next time try your local GNC) and I get that enough other people are offended that they won't vote for him, but I still don't care. Larry had an itch, but when he tried to scratch it he got handcuffed instead. Larry's itch is his own business, which means it's none of mine.

Whaling

This last weekend was a flurry of activity I've not experienced since the "-4 to Perception" haze of Norwescon. I'll leave out the gory details, but I will say that it involved babies, helicopter pilots, soccer, and 88 cent shirts.

In the end, I was bribed to make the journey over to White Center, an oasis of civilization on the other side of the toxic industrial wasteland southwest of Seattle. There, I finally partook in that most diabolical rapture, the pestilent cheesecake which tempts gamers young and old. Yes, I drank deep from the twisted golden chalice and became the Hero of Guitars.

It was a blinding sight to behold, not because of my skill, but because of the absolute ineptitude with which I assaulted and violated the poor guitar-shaped Xbox controller. However, after an hour and a half of play, I was able to score a 92% success rate. On a five-star song. On Easy.

I do indeed whale hardcore.

Hope your weekend was as much of a blast as mine, and my condolences to those of you who are back in the university trenches. God speed on a safe and perjury-free semester.

Groove out.

Updates

New review for Stardust and a new addition in the Lists section.

Also, I've added a voting button for Topwebcomics on the Coming Distractions page. Not interested? Well, there's a groovy voting incentive comprised of some "Name of the Wind" fan art along with that voting button.

As further incentive, there will be a new incentive for every new comic each Friday. Thanks for checkin' it out!

Groove on.

Travolting

Hello Gentle Readers,

I got a few compliments on this week's Thursday review round-up so I thought I'd share it with the faithful readers of KS. Plus, a mysterious someone commented on my blog the last time I did this so I'm testing to see if I'm under government surveillance.

HAIRSPRAY

As we all know, our summer movie season wouldn't be complete without a has-been scientologist in drag singing and dancing through an adapted Broadway musical. Thankfully, Hairspray twirled itself into an encore performance at the Audian (6:30). I have to say, this looks like a movie that would be fun to ruthlessly mock. Unfortunately, the reviewers seem to think it's one of the best movies of the summer (a whopping 93% positive rating). Good thing I'm wearing my 'advocate for the devil' hat. Mocks away!

"Against all expectations, Hairspray turns out to be an explosion of industrial-strength good cheer, delivered by very smart show-biz pros with wit, passion, and a soupçon of dementia. Resistance is futile." Ty Burr Boston Globe

Nerd alert! We have an uber-Trekie quoting the Borg on aisle 5 next to the industrial-strength good cheer.

"Fellas, there are going to be a lot of little hotties at this movie. Here is an ideal place to catch them off-duty, their hair up in scrunchies. No, it won't turn you gay." Kyle Smith New York Post

Stalker advice from Inmate 432 (aka Kyle). In addition to picking up girls, this movie is guaranteed not to turn you gay. Whew. Thanks jackass.

"A safe, self-congratulatory fantasy which revisits the civil rights era not for a valuable history lesson but for an escapist, syrupy sweet, sing-a-long trip down memory lane to an unrecognizable, Hollywood utopia that never existed." Kam Williams NewsBlaze

Wait. You wanted a civil rights history lesson from a comic musical? You must be the kind of person who wants a lap dance from a rodeo clown. Pipe down and let the adults talk.

"A funny thing happened: I was having so much fun watching this movie that when it was over, I felt a strange feeling of disappointment. I could have sat there all day." Mike McGranaghan Aisle Seat

Warning: this film may put you in a coma. But in a good way. Okay, critics love it, I want to mock it. What's the final word?

"Only a die-hard grump could resist the giddy charms of Hairspray." Randy Cordova Arizona Republic

Bah-Humbug mother fucker. Uh oh. I think I overdosed on my own sarcasm. See you tonight.

Post

Post

The Land of Plenty

So here's a little bit of a late blog to further engulf Pat's last post. Catch up, dude!

This last weekend, Becky and I went to Cannon Beach to celebrate a belated anniversary, and the weather was pretty much perfect. Arriving on Friday, it was sunny and clear enough to enjoy a sunset from the beach. Becky had her camera, I had my sketchbook.

In addition to eating far too much food (roughly enough to nourish a medium-sized refugee camp) we also bought some art and other souvenirs. My favorite was an earthenware coffee mug for work.

Note: the proportions shown here are accurate.

The downside? The stupid state of Oregon declared the tidal pools on the beachside of Haystack Rock a "Marine Garden" which means that landlubbing tourists are forthwith prohibited from laying their feet anywhere except "sand or bare rock." Why? To protect the sea life in those tide pools, of course! Barnacles and anemones are endangered, donchaknow? It's not like it was an exposed wave-breaking coral reef.

It's bad enough that we have to put things in cages so we can look at them whenever we want, but now we're fencing off the world to prevent folks from interacting the natural habitat as well. Did I mention they were also asking for donations to help fund this project?

I donated my lack of respect and general loathing.

So that was my little bit of random activism/renegaderie against the Man, but the remainder of the weekend was terrific. Now, I will hopefullyl be able to finish up the Coming Distractions which is sitting in my sketchbook. See you then!

Alternate Personalities

Occupations of other Nate or Nathan Taylors (according to Google):

Painter (Australia)
Basketweaver (Nantucket)
Child Actor (US)
Thespian (UK)
Track Athlete (Cornell)
Young Republican Chairman (Las Vegas)
Singer/Songwriter (Colorado)
Shipbuilder (UK)
Graphic Designer (Washington)
Security Professional (Denver)
Journalist (Australia)
Wellness Management Grad Student (BSU)
Attorney (Washington DC)
Best Boy Grip (US)
Stuntman (US)
Assistant Location Manager (US)
Fine Artist (Washington)
Musician (California)
Graphic Designer (New York)
Sports Writer (MVN)
Stock Car Racer (US)

That's right, there are four other Nate Taylors out there who are all artists. Nine, if you count the actors, musicians, and basketweaver. What are the odds? I use this as conclusive scientific proof that if you want your boy to be an artist, naming him "Nathan Taylor" will accomplish that. Or it gives him a 43% chance, at least. The biggest black spot on the Nate Taylors of the world? The former chairman of the Las Vegas Young Republicans (same age as me, incidentally) was in the papers in 2005 for "mishanding" $25,000 and landing himself in some legal hot water. Way to drag us down, Nate.

And now your Zen quote of the day: "Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been." -- Mark Twain.

Don't Bogart my Casablanca

I came to a stark, sudden, and earth-shattering revelation this morning while in the midst of my lather-rinse-repeat cycle. I was thinking about going to see "Live Free or Die Hard" and recalled that my mother had just seen it last weekend. In that same conversation with my mom, she voiced an absolute distaste and disinterest in seeing the new "Transformers" movie. I'm not surprised by this because of the anti-Transformers mentality that was fostered in my childhood. Something about robots with souls being un-Christian. Anyway, upon her unconditional refusal, a metaphor immediately leapt into my mind.

Movies are drugs.

When a new movie comes out, it gets passed around the circle and everyone tries it. They rave and rave and try to get other people to try it too. Studios use peer pressure ("Come on. Ebert liked it. Don't you want to just try it and see what it's like?"), and you get constant hounding wherever you go; TV, newspapers, radio, all saying "Go see 'The Bourne Ultimatum!'" "It's good, man! You'll be coming back for more!" And you will.

You'll get out of a movie, feeling nice and comfy in your life, but soon the feeling fades and you can't wait for another dose of that feel-good escapism. Pretty soon, you're asking friends to spot you for a movie. Maybe you even catch yourself trying to organize a youth group activity at your church to go see a movie together. At your church, man!

And the analogy continues.

You can get movies cut or un-cut, directors and studio producers are always looking for their next hit, and you can get domestic or imported movies (domestics are easier to handle, but imported ones can give you a better buzz). But beware, the movie culture can be just as dangerous as its illicit cousin.

Let's say you get approached by a dealer who tells you he's got something that's just as funny as "Dumb and Dumber." You're interested. "Dumb and Dumber" was some good stuff, yeah? "It's called 'Dumb and Dumberer.'" So you try it, and wham! You realize you've just been slipped some contraband, home-made, amateur, ethanol-heavy comedy that's gonna leave you wishing you'd never even heard of movies.

Everybody's had a bad ride. We've all gone to see that movie that made us want to give up on the whole culture; "Eragon," "Thirteen Days," "Freddie Got Fingered," "Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen." Yet we keep coming back. Why? We're hooked. But at least some of us have the willpower to break free. When the "Transformers" doobie gets passed to us, some of us will be able to say "No thanks, dude. That ain't how I roll."

Just not me.

Out peace.

Edit: I finally changed the blog page to the main page. You may now rejoice.

vacating

Hello Gentle Readers,

This week I'm off to join my family for a little kingsheep family reunion in central Oregon. What does this mean for you, the gentle reader? Pretty much nothing, but it should contextualize my future postings about it. My schedule includes a few breweries so if nothing else, I should return with stories of beer, sweet glorious beer.

Important News

If you haven't recently experienced the sheer joy of a rollicking belly-laugh then allow me to share the best new webcomic I've come across. XKCD will make you giggle so hard at your desk that you'll have to hold it in and quietly shake like an epileptic mime.

For my money, this one is the best so far.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Hello Gentle Readers,

My reading time: 48 hours
My fiance did it in 12 hours (Wow. That's what you get when you are going to marry a PHD student who reads for a living).

Okay, so why is this a blog instead of a review? Good question. I guess because I value a review of a book differently that I value a review of other entertainment genres. For example, when I read video game reviews, I generally don't care what the review says about the story or the characters, I only care about the problems (camera issues, clipping, fog, unnecessary jumping deaths, etc). If there are few problems and I like the genre, then chances are I'll like the game.

However, with a book, the level of investment and how a person interacts with it, is considerably different. Whereas I read HP as soon as I could finish, there will be loads of people savoring it by reading a chapter at a time. If a book is read in small bits, the reader's impression of pacing won't reflect my own. Whereas, with a movie review, pacing is essential. As Joss Whedon says "film is all about momentum." If a film drags in the middle, it can sour an audience's enjoyment.

Well, the good news is that Deathy Hallows will make a hellovah movie. The whole story is action and its structure is considerably unlike the previous books (with very little taking place at Hogwarts). But I don't want to worry about spoilers so, let me just say that doing nothing but read for 48 hours was a wonderful gift. I was filled with a youthful excitement as I hurriedly flipped pages. I laughed, I cried and when I was done I felt a true sense of satisfaction. Rather than write a review of a book, I'd rather review my experience. And as RW of the DA says, it was bloody brilliant.

Trailers and Fishes

I went to see Transformers for the first time last night. Normally, I'd be gracing you with a review, but today's Coming Distractions really says it all. However, I would like to discuss the following trailer which some of you may have seen:

We begin with shaky-cam video a la Blair Witch Project except it's filming a going away party instead of stick figure effigies. The dialogue is witty, but suddenly interrupted by a monstrous growl and earthquake. Party-goers rush to the roof in time to see a huge fireball erupt in the middle of the city skyscrapers. People flee on the streets and the hand-cam zooms in on a piece of flying debris which turns out to be the face of the Statue of Liberty. The screen flashes the name J.J. Abrams, the date 1.18.08, and the normal screen credits page. Title? None.

I know J.J. likes his mystery to be swallowed in 1000 mg horse pills, but this is a little much. Of course the preview is doing its job of making me immensely curious, but the sweet sensation of anticipation is dulled by resentment and frustration. Immediately after seeing the trailer, I thought it was a mistake. Maybe I should let the staff know they have a bad trailer reel. Later that night, I started to think it was either the best marketing idea ever, or the worst.

Now, I just feel like smacking J.J. around a little. Especially if Lost doesn't follow through. Oh yeah, I'm lumping it all together.

In other news, I simply must tell you about the most fascinating activity I participated in this last Saturday. The Mount Vernon Children's Art Festival has been going on for many years, and my wife has been helping her mom for many of them. I was recently enlisted to help with the booth called "Fish Prints." In this artistic activity, we thumb our noses at PETA, taking donated fish and using them like Captain Ahab's Barbie dolls.

Stage 1: Place a dead fish on a cafeteria tray and give it to a child armed with powdered tempra paint.


Stage 2: (not pictured) Place a piece of paper atop the art deco fish and press firmly upon its lifeless flesh.

Stage 3: Wash the fish and return it to the table for further experimentation in color Nihilism.


This poor fish in my hand is about the cleanest he can get after about two runs through the wringer. My joy is unparalleled.


My favorite quotes of the day came from both children and parents alike. "Are these real fish?" "Are these fish real or dead?" "Can I poke the eyeball?"

What really strikes me as odd is the fact that this booth was one of the most popular ones in the entire field. Despite being bent over for most of the day, it's not my back that hurts but rather my legs from all the running about. You wouldn't believe how irate some adults would become if their child didn't get to paint the fish they wanted. They acted as though they were paying for the experience and wanted to get their money's worth. It's a fish! Just commit your defacement and be on your way!

So that's the way of things in Mount Vernon. I daresay that a repeat performance will most likely be demanded next year. We shall see.

Peace out, my home boys.

Ipderb Gliderplunk

So here we are again. Let me welcome you, the precious few who grace our blog with your eyes, to another Friday.

I've been puting (or is it putting, like miniature golf?) off a blog update until I had a comic to accompany it, but the situation has become so dire that I feel I must post regardless. Last weekend, I completed the final illustration in what will come to be known as the Hundred Day Job. It has taken until today to finish the "fixes" requested by the director (Him: "The masts on the boat look crooked." Me: "That's because the boat is listing to one side." Him: "The boat looks straight." Me: "That's because the front and back of a Man o' War are angled." Him: "The masts still look crooked.").

Thus, today begins my reign of terror. Er, freedom. Yes, today I strike out as a free man and rediscover what I used to fill my time with besides pictures of pirates. So far, Becky and Final Fantasy XII are doing a pretty good job.

Patrick Rothfuss is continuing to garner both praise and spite (like any upstart bursting onto the scene with as much panache as he has) as well as unbelievable opportunities. I'm sure it won't be long now before a gilded messenger arrives at my apartment to invite me to a castle-warming party at Rothfuss Keep in Scotland. It'll be right next-door to Anne McCaffrey's place, and the only difference will be that all the dragons there will be addicted to narcotic tree sap.

Good gravy, what if the "Kingkiller Chronicle" becomes as big as the Harry Potter Books? I think if that happened, you'd never see Rothfuss without a top hat. He'd have a plethora of them, and they'd be different heights to indicate his mood.

Well, we can all hope, can't we. Now we just have to make King Sheep Productions a household name, and we'll be set too. See you Monday.

Fantastic poo!

Hello Blog-readers,

If you don't live in Pullman WA, then you are probably not aware of a little tradition we have here. One of our local theaters plays 3rd run movies every Thursday for two dollars. Needless to say, cheap entertainment in this town is something special. So, to encourage other people to go see these movies, every wednesday I send out an email that chronicles what various reviewers have to say about the film. That's the backstory, here's the important bit. This week's movie is Fantasic Four 2. I ended up with a few extra jokes at it's expense, so here is the 'unedited, directors cut' of my email in case someone wanted to read my edited jokes. Enjoy.

Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer - The Audian - 6:15 pm - 2 buckaroos.

Okay, we all know this movie is poo. How can it not be? It's a sequel to a festering obscenity of a movie. So, by comparison, poo is good. Poo is great. But, let's not forget it's still poo. All that's left is the question of stink. Will it be hillbilly swamp poo where one whiff instantly ignites nose hairs or will it be innocuous and almost amusing baby poo? So which is it FF2:ROTSS, what kind of poo are you?

"If you swept the cosmic dust of the superhero boom into a flimsy dustpan, you'd have the Fantastic Four franchise." Scott Brown Entertainment Weekly

Dusty cosmic boom poo.

"It's a good thing Jessica Alba is easy on the eyes because she belly flops onto the craft of acting like a big black anvil." Mark Ramsey MovieJuice!

Acme products poo.

"Superficial, unimaginative and inert. The so-called heroes are pompous, one-note caricatures who have the depth of gnats, and are just as irritating." Dustin Putman TheMovieBoy.com

Gnat-gonna-make-Alba-happy poo.

"At times silly and then serious, this Fantastic Four is the cinematic equivalent of multiple personality disorder." Misha Davenport Chicago Sun-Times

Psycho Sybil poo. At last, a superhero movie that we can lock in the basement and make eat eraser heads. "It puts on the lotion or else it gets the hose again."

"Fantastic? Maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. Thrilling, engaging and totally adequate are more fitting adjectives to the latest superhero special effects bonanza." Phil Villarreal Arizona Daily Star

Thesaurus poo.

"Sentient humans should stay away; all others may enter confident that their IQs are already in the Chernobyl-fried range and will not be affected, except for downward." Stephen Hunter Washington Post

Insult your audience poo.

"KAPOW! The world's most boring superheroes return to lull us back to sleep in a sequel that could put the makers of Nytol out of business." David Edwards Daily Mirror [UK]

Product plug poo.

"Impressive not because of anything that's said, but for the realization that you're watching the screen be dominated by Jessica Alba and a piece of CGI without ever once experiencing the urge to gnaw through your own shoulder." Steve Schneider Orlando Weekly

Cannibal poo.

"Surfing down the face of a building or opening bottomless holes in the Earth? Yes! Lamenting the loss of his loved one and trading therapy sessions with Sue? No!" Brian Orndorf OhmyNews.com

Simplified review structure? Yes. Amusing and original? No. I can't decide. Is this monolog poo or more of that Sybil psycho poo?

"Fantasy pictures needn't be bound by the constraints of real-world logic, but they can't survive the quotidian blandness by which this one is smothered." Kurt Loder MTV

Kurt Loder's poo. No, smarty-pants poo. He must want to look smart if he uses 'quotidian' when speaking to an MTV audience. You get the picture. We need wrap up poo. The honor goes to the Onion AV club.

"Many complaints were lobbed at Fantastic Four but no one ever suggested it was too smart. Yet it would seem that everyone came to the sequel, Fantastic Four: Rise Of The Silver Surfer, determined to dumb it down." Keith Phipps Onion AV Club

And thank god they did. The dumber the movie, the more brain cells we save for other essential habits like sniffing glue and banging our heads on things. Thank you FF2:ROTSS, you and your blissfully long acronym title have saved the day again.

PDJ

The Special Hell

Today's Kingdom Heights is dedicated to the four-year-old boy sitting three seats away from me at "Ratatouille" and his parents who believe that a public theater is the same as the living room of their trailer park hovel.

TaylorCon 2007

Well we have returned from the family reunion weekend. By "we" I mean my wife and I, and by "returned" I mean survived. The most exciting parts went like this.

Friday - Arrived in Boise, ID at 10pm to discover that our luggage had been held in Seattle for "additional screening" by the stupid TSA, but due to my father's speaking engagement at the reunion, we have to leave the airport. After an hour of family history slides, we returned to retrieve the bags. "Why were the bags held for inspection?" I inquired of the nice baggage service lady. "Oh, they just do that sometimes if there's anything in the bag they can't recognize, like a ball of tin foil or something." Apparently, travelling with wads of foil is more common than one would think. In bed by midnight.

Saturday - Woke up at 6:15am so we could be fed and on the road by 8:15. We spent 12 hours touring various spots in and around Weiser, Idaho relevant to family history. One of these spots included the old Rock Creek ranch where we walked 1/4 mile through brambles and thistles to the ranch site. An unfortunate communication gap occurred which hid this hike from our knowledge until it was too late to pack actual shoes. Hence, my wife and I walked in sandals. After the trek, it was decided that pizza should ordered in time for us to enjoy it upon our return to Boise.

The rest of the relatives returned while my father, great Uncle Richard, Becky and I took care of a few more errands before getting back on the road to Boise. It was, therefore, 9pm when we arrived exhausted, dirty, thorn-ridden, and hungry to five remaining pieces of cold Hawaiian Delight and eighteen relatives eagerly awaiting more of the slideshow presentation. In bed by 11:30.

Sunday - We meandered to consciousness around 9:30am and missed the continental breakfast, but received the keys to my dad's rented Dodge Magnum so we could go find food. Driving the Magnum made me think I should be representin' or at least beckoning for people to holla.

The dessert for this weekend? We got to the ticket counter at the airport and found out our flight was over-booked, but if we volunteered to be bumped then we would get two free tickets anywhere Alaska or Horizon flies. Since, starting in October that includes Hawaii, we volunteered, got bumped, and received our tickets and two vouchers to buy food and snacks while we waited for our flight. We spend one voucher on food and blew the other on magazines and candy, returning to Seattle in the front row of seats on the jet.

So, to sum up, there is a God.

Can't wait for TaylorCon '08.

Color!

There are a couple of points to get to today in my rambling and megalomaniacal external monologue. Number one is the comics. It's my nature to feel I owe my readership an explanation whenever I have to shelve the comic that I was promoting for so long. My illustration gig has extended itself to another 20 pictures which will keep me pretty well under ground until mid July. I'll try to update as often as possible, but things'll be pretty irregular until then.

Topic two explains the title of this post: I am still engaged in a Kung-fu-esque stand-off with my new tablet. It has the skills I require to achieve my goals, but refuses to dispense them at my request. "Once you can snatch the pixels from my surface," it offers, "then you will be ready to leave." Through my trials and online tutorials, I have so far produced this work in progress:

It's simple, but then again I have only just begun my journey to enlightenment. And thanks to the advent of blogging and mainstream egocentrism, I can detail this tumultuous process step-by-step for all the person who wants to read it.

Groove ahn.

Blogging on blogging

So, I tell myself to blog more, however I keep losing momentum. I have a few obstacles in the way, the first being that I tend to blog during lunch and it is nearly impossible to predict whether I'll have time to finish a thought. However, I really shouldn't let that stop me since blogs often end abruptly. My second hurdle is not knowing if anyone reads what I write. This fear has been disproven as well (hi Jason). Perhaps it is the medium that gives me pause. Sometimes the process of writing is self-fulfilling, but with blogging, I don't get the same satisfaction I would out of a creative or comedic piece. The internal monologue style lacks a certain luster for both the reader and writer. Thus, my blogs can feel like an extended mumbling session where I'm the only person who knows what's happening, which is creepy. Hence, there can be only one conclusion: I blog when I have something to blog about. And given what I've written so far, it should be clear what that is. The end.

Substitutiary Locomotion

Edit: The comic is finally up, and what a ride it was. You'll notice there are no backgrounds, but maybe I'll put those in at a later date. Still fiddling with how much I can abuse the abilities of the Wacom and still complete the strip in a timely manner. We'll see what we end up with.

Later,
Nate

I was unable to get the comic up last night or this morning due to bill-paying illustration work, so here's a little something to tide you over until my lunch break. This is my work space at my job, specially labeled for your elucidation. Hope you get at least one laugh from it.

Click for larger view.

Groove on.

Better Nate Than Lever

This morning's comic is brought to you by the the letters W and Y. The W is for Wacom because this latest strip was inked and colored thereupon. Is "thereupon" a word? With a Wacom, I can make it one. Such is its power. The Y is for "y did it tak u so long?" in the parlance of our time. The answer to that is: because using a Wacom ain't like dusting crops, boy.

Lazy artists, like me, who don't want to teach their drawing hand and arm to use their full range of motion often cheat by turning the sketchbook or other drawing surface until the line they wish to make is aligned with the easiest motion for their arm to make. While I call it "cheating," it's so widely used that it isn't really regarded as such. However, when one is learning to use a tablet, this practice begins to harm rather than help.

Drawing a downward line (especially one skewing to the right) is like performing tantric yoga. Muscles scream and begin to spasm as my body contorts into previously unknown positions. It's good times, but they'll get better. They will, or they will be replaced.

In other news, I can't do a Google search for something as simple as "peanut casings" without coming across 9 blogs about how great The Name of the Wind is. The book is doing well indeed.

Check ya later.

Summer Update

Hello Gentle Readers,

I know I haven't posted since April (as a good friend reminded me last night), so I thought now would be a good time to fill you in on what's going on. First off, in about an hour, I'm playing in a $200 poker event on Ulitimate Bet. I tried to warm up with a few sit-and-goes (sngs) but that didn't go so well. However, I should know better than to play ultra turbos to prepare for long events. So wish me retroactive luck. Also, the most recent draft of my screenplay is complete and currently in the hands of 3 of my 5 readers. Nate and Pat, your's are going in the mail next week. Also last week my father successfully went through surgery and is now home feeling better. So, all in all, all is well in King-sheep's world. Last night I had the pleasure of attending a summer meeting of the scotch malt whiskey society of the Palouse. It was lots of drink, eat, laugh finished off with a little outdoor poker. When the evening came to a close, I had the opportunity to drink some Chinese whiskey. It came in this blue porcelain bottle that made it look like an ancient artifact. We pulled the top and gave it a whiff. The owner of the bottle leaned back. It smelled like pig shit. But of course I tasted it anyway. It was like drinking wood alcohol with a fish oil aftertaste. Nasty. So I guess the lesson of the day is, beware of foul smelling whiskey in pretty bottles.

Laters,

KS

Huzzah for Closure!

Yes, I've finally finished the all-consuming illustration job! I say "all-consuming" because it's actually eaten years off the end of my life, though the fault was ultimately my own. When one foolishly quotes a production schedule of 10 per week (with 3-4 hours per drawing), and forgets that he already works 40 hours at a regular job, he ends up with extra bags under his eyes.

Just to give you an idea, here are a couple examples of what I've been doing.

How's that for fun? It's been an incredible learning experience, and a real joy (who doesn't like drawing pirates?).

Thus, I feel refreshed and invigorated, and will have a Coming Distractions for you all later today!

Groove on.

Deadlines ad Infinitum

I'm literally gasping at the surface of an ocean of work right now, coming up for air and paddling frantically. I've completed the 25 illustrations required to complete my contract, though a few alterations are being requested.

However, my contract has been extended to another 10 illustrations (due Sunday), and there is talk of pushing the deadline to the next quarter of the year because they're toying with the idea of having me do another 22 illustrations.

Thankfully, if it is decided that I'll be doing another big batch of these drawings, I've negotiated a much more relaxed production schedule. Doing ten 3-4 hour illustrations per week on top of a full-time job has a way of straining one's body, mind, and marriage.

I know, I know. All ahead, Whine factor 5!

Whatever the case, you should know that regular updates will begin again after this Sunday. King Sheep and I have been writing strips together (well, he writes them, I tweak them, then he tweaks the tweaks), and I have a few surprises in my magic box that will make this long and very boring wait worthwhile.

I hope you all have big plans to see Pirates 3 this weekend. One hopes it'll be better than both Spidey 3 and Shrek 3, thus busting the opening weekend record for the third time in a month. So peace out until then.

P.S. - Write something, Pat, so I don't feel like a blog hog.

Sense the Tastation.

So. Doritos X-13D. If you have yet to spot this innocuous little black bag in the grocery aisle, I recommend you seek it out.

The Premise: Doritos' taste engineers developed a new flavor, but their marketing department and taste-testers were both wiped out in a mutually-assured-destruction bout of "hand grenade hot potato." Thus, you, Joe Orange-Fingered Couch Hobbit, have become both the taste-tester and the marketing executive in that you must first decipher the product's unique taste, then name it.

The Result: The internet is bursting at the seams with opinions of the new chips. It reminds me of the early online world of MUDs. As a player, one could shout a question to the entire world and, true to internet fashion, would get all sorts of replies.

1st Level Grasshopper: "I just picked up a silky pink key. What's it good for?"
16th Level Smartalec: "Opening the silky pink panty drawer!"
11th Level Grumbler: "Plugging your mouth. Shut up!"
25th Level Wiseman: "Opening one of three doors leading to the Gnome King."
8th Level Bittermaster: "It makes you invincible. Go attack the archvampire."

The Moral: If you want an educated opinion, ask a person. If you want a symphony of noise composed of 90% crap, 8% unintelligble AIM-speak, 1% hyperbole, and 1% gold-pressed latinum, ask a crowd of people sitting at computers behind anonymous screen names.

The Conclusion: Doritos X-13D taste like Coney Island hot dogs with ketchup and relish. If you're like me, and remember tenderly those days of making hot dog and potato chip sandwiches, then this is your ambrosia.

What's in Your Weekend?

I went to see Spider-man 3 this weekend.

Of course I did. Didn't you? All the cool nerds were there (and those of us who just have a Kirsten Dunst fixation). Naturally when I tell people that (about seeing Spider-man 3, not the Kirsten Dunst thing), they ask two questions: what was the best part, and what was the worst part?

There were a lot of good parts. Visually, it was as stunning as watching Bush win a spelling bee: most of the time, you couldn't believe your eyes. There was good character development, upsets in the status quo (a must for sequels).

The worst part? I'm not going to tell you because it would ruin the movie experience for you. Go see it for yourself.

But I've got to say that the biggest part of my weekend was finding out that the client I'm doing this ginormous illustration job for is dissatisfied with all the work I did on it last week, so much so that it will require many redraws. That means I'm now a week behind.

And that means I'm going to lose a lot of sleep or go way over deadline. Not sure which sounds worse. I mean, I love my sleep. I love my sleep. How much do I love it? Well, let's just say we spend most of our time together in bed. It's very physical.

Anyway, some marvelously inconsequential trailer reviews for ya!

Rush Hour 3 - I can't believe they're making a third one (just because it's been so long since #2), but this preview does make it look good. I just hope the preview doesn't contain the sum of all the jokes (hey! that's a good spoof title: "The Sum of All Jokes").

Shrek 3, Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer, Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End - It's truly the summer of sequels, and I just hope they all live up to the hype. Of course they won't, but it's nice to hope.

Across the Universe - It's time again for movies set in the tumultuous '60s. Art, love, parties, war, protest, pain, and through it all is the music. This preview feels like equal parts Forrest Gump and Moulin Rouge, and looks like the film will be full of phychedelic imagery.

Surf's Up - Finally a preview that deviates from the Happy Feet promotional formula (tell the audience nothing about your movie). Before, it looked skippable, but then apparently someone let them in on the secret that people love when you let them know what the flick's about. So now it looks good. Maybe even opening week good.

So that's all. I'll try to get a review up later, but don't hold me to that because I'm inches away from self-inflicted narcolepsy.

Curse you Travelocity

Hello gentle readers,

I just got back from a Writing Center conference in Bellingham. That little bit of context probably doesn't matter to those of you reading this, but it does set up the fact that I'm pissed at Travelocity. I don't if you have ever had to worry about getting reimbursed for travel, but for me, I have to turn in all my receipts to the University after the trip. I had my credit card billed but the hotel I stayed at has no record of anything. All the account detials go through the website and Travelocity deletes records after the trip is over. So, I'm s-o-l. Now comes the fun part. What manner of torture can I inflict on the roaming gnome to make myself feel better? My current plan involves lighter fluid, two dozen Peeps and ceramic glue. Anyone else have any suggestions?

Be not afraid! I bring good tidings of great joy!

I regret to inform you, my loyal readers, that there will be no regular Kingdom Heights updates for about the next three weeks.

Due to a rather large illustration job that has been graciously granted to me, I'm going to have to spend approximately every waking moment of the next month working on it. But don't think for a second that I'm complaining.

Illustration, as an activity, is like the smell of Christmas wrapping paper, warm sun, a triple-fudge sundae with peanuts and whip cream, a birthday party helium buzz, and the lightsaber duel from Empire: thoroughly enjoyable.

But you shouldn't forget about ol' King Sheep dot com here.

During my precious few moments of free time, I'll be combining my powers with Pat to produce Coming Distractions with a new comic every day for the first week of May to commemorate the opening summer movie season.

Expect hilarity, irreverence, and a few things you didn't think we were capable of.

It all starts tomorrow, so bookmark http://www.king-sheep.com/cdcomic.html and hold onto whatever it is that you're going to laugh off.

CPU Massacre V: Motherboard of Ruin

There was a time when I used to think I had a knack with machines, electronic or mechanical. Often, my mere presence was enough to cause a previously finicky copier or VCR to spring to life and whistle merrily about its normal routine.

Other times, I would pop its casing open and just follow my nose until I'd done something, then close 'er back up and everything would be fine.

I've recently revised that theory regarding computers. In the past 9 months, I've ruined two whole systems to the point where new machines needed to be purchased, destroyed one hard drive, and rendered another system so ill that it cannot function for longer than two hours without shutting down.

I was finally able to get my own system back up and running a couple days ago (hence the new comic), but I've left quite a swath of destruction behind me. In the end, it was accomplished through a combination of assumptions, mad scrambling, Judeo-pagan rituals, jazz dance, and human sacrifices.

So, what do people think of the new site layout?

Being a general hermit has removed me somewhat from the opinions of my peers, but I am curious. Is the site easily navigable? Are there confusing directories or dead-ends? Lay it on me, folks, I'm not faint of spirit.

Let us know as King Sheep and I continue to come up with ways to dazzle and astonish you.

Past and Future Laughs

Oya y'all,

Some of you may have noticed a big blank comic panel on the comics page. I'll get to that in a second.

First, sorry this week's been a big ol' goose egg of comic strip updates, but it's not entirely my fault. See, first my hard drive tanked, so I had to drag out my back-up drive, install XP, and I'm currently at the phase titled "Attack Pattern Indigo: re-install all vital drivers so my stupid computer knows what to do with its peripherals."

Not entirely my fault. All of my computer's internal components are 7 years old (with the exception of a brand spankin' new video card), but my car is 13 years old and it still works, dammit! Where's the love?

So, to satisfy folks' yearnings for some funny, here's the best I could do with the equipment I have available, and I call it "Humorous Things from a Con."

Click to Englarge

Now what goes in that blank space on the comics page? Well, the illustrious King Sheep and I have decided to combine our powers and do a comic strip together. It's going to be good, and you can expect the first strip to appear on May 1st to kick off the summer movie season.

Think of it like the Justice League of America. Sure, Superman and Batman are great in their own right, fighting crime and being just super in general, but when they get together in the JLA, they're unstoppable. Just like us.

Until then, you'll have to make do with Kingdom Heights and House Rules.

Love, peace, and hair grease.

too full to work

Today at work I was overworked but generally productive. Then, I went out to lunch. Big mistake. We had gyros from Mikeys. For those of you who've ever had Mikeys, then you know the proper way to eat them. Because every gyro is filled with so much yummy meat and veges, it always spills out of the pita. So, what you do is order a grilled pita with feta cheese and split your meat and veges between the two pitas. Wham-o, double gyro! Two times the food, two times the yummy. The only downside brings us back to that big mistake. Suddenly, returning to work I'm lethargic, tired and praying that my clock breaks and speeds up time so I can go home and nap. What we need is a food source akin to what was served in Terry Gilliam's Brazil - green loaf of jello. I'm not wishing for this distopian meal for its taste or presentation, but solely on the grounds of nutrition and portability. While the gyro was yummy, I'm suddenly unable to work and have instead opted to blog. Happy trails.

Pros and Cons

Well, as you can see, I've taken quite a few artistic liberties with the look of the site. Just looking at the front page lately has made me feel an uncomfortable itch in the base of my brain. That and it was slightly depressing what with all the darkness and "oh, I'm soo deep and moody."

Anyway, I went to my first con ever this last weekend where I was able to meet up with the venerable Pats, both Rothfuss and Johnson. I'd like to take a brief moment to explain the comedy of this situation. I am a nerd. Now I'm a self-proclaimed nerd. My wife is smiling at that. I've geeked out at Kevin J. Anderson, David Brin, and Anne McCaffrey. I love Star Wars, Star Trek, magic, unicorns, and theoretical physics, and I've never been to a con.

My parents have been to a con, and I haven't.

Some of you out there who go to cons eight times a year might say "Norwescon? Meh." But it was my first, so it will forever hold a special place in my heart. It was at Norwescon that I discovered facts of life such as "There is such a thing as too much cleavage" and "Clothing can be optional." The best part was that I found myself in an environment where there was no shame. No, perhaps shame is not the right word. There was no judgement. Folks who had no right wearing fishnet were clad head-to-toe in it, and outrageous costumes were worn with reckless abandon.





For me it was the most comfortable place in the entire world for two days.

Lastly, it is with remorse that I announce the death of my hard drive. He fought valiantly against his own demise, but in the end he succumbed to the pressures of my demands and his heads ground to a halt - doubtless forever scarring the surface of the drive and destroying all of my precious hard work. His contents will be missed, though his lack of enthusiasm will not.

So, I'll be doing all of my updating on lunch breaks until the situation can be rectified.

If anyone knows how to install XP on a machine with no operating system, shoot me an e-mail.

Groove on.

Back to the Palouse

I had a wonderfully traditional Easter this year, assuming that all Easters are spent driving across the state and seeing horror movies. I had a nice drive across Washington, catching the amazing mountain views and dodging a few crazy drivers. I played leapfrog with a truck carrying mattresses for over an hour. Then after taking the lead outside Ellensburg, a cop pulled him over. I laughed a little as I zoomed past.

I got home and gave Sarah a big hug. I missed her and given that we didn't get to see each other on my birthday, it was nice to be back in her loving arms. So then we opened some presents, got dinner, and went to see my birthday movie: Grindhouse! Sweet! Okay, I'll be posting a review soon but let me just say that this movie is too gross for a lot of people. I was freaked out and I've got a pretty strong tolerance. However, despite it making me cridge, I enjoyed the hell out of it. For every "ew gross" moment, there is one that makes you laugh or grin.

Okay, now comes the home stretch of the semester. Papers to grade, meetings to hold and way too much work to be done. I'm sure my next post will be during the throws of hair-pulling.

Laters - KS