guitar face dot jpeg

FullSizeRender.jpg

If you want a good opening topic for a survey course in The Terribleness of White Folks, consider that we took one of the most profound and raw and beautiful expressions of suffering and longing our species has ever invented and smeared paunchy, goateed dads too old for rock and roll alllllllll over it.

If black culture is a fertile field, then historically, we have been the locusts.

Well, hesh mah mouf, yawl

FullSizeRender.jpg

Northerner writers: Ah’m available tew help y’all larn how to raht the most authentic southern dialogue you ever did see, sugah.

I learned it from the fella what cooked in my mama’s summer kitchen, who picked a fine banjo and fed me on cracklins and the simple wisdom of these hills

Jesus made "It Follows" extra creepy

Discovered that the remotes for the TV and the sound bar sometimes set off the LED tape I used for my antique church window project in certain contexts. It does creative things with the color setup. This is what happened after my wife patiently requested that I turn down the subwoofer.

They're two different remotes but from the same manufacturer, so either they use the same frequency or else the IR receiver for the LED tape is super slutty.

Or it was a poooooltergeiiiiiiiist

Home again

IMG_6358.JPG

We have returned from vacation and I have fetched the still-recovering boy from his grandparents'.

I have been tempted to whine about the hundreds of miles I've driven the last two days. But I thought of how much he's quietly endured this week, painful heartworm treatments and prednisone and temporary relocation across state lines while I laid on a beach. Yet my boy still cried and damn near threw a hip wagging his tail when he laid eyes on me.

Some say that we don't deserve dogs. I say that we are all home, and that is what I needed most.

Nazi-killing video game adopts controversial anti-Nazi marketing stance

This is a pretty crazy plot twist, y’all. Who could have expected this from a 36-year-long game franchise whose one theme is destroying a major existential threat to our species.

The one thing that gives me hope in this broccoli fart dutch oven of a year is the nigh-constant parade of evidence that Nazi sympathizers and “devil’s advocates” may be anti-American, anti-Christian, anti-human and anti-life, but they’re also incredibly stupid.

I have no time for video games, but I’m tempted to blow money on a console just to support this. Also Cuphead looks amazing.

hashtag parenting

FullSizeRender.jpg

Tom King wrote the hell out of The Vision. It's a lovely and terrible story that's three parts surburban desperation and one part straight-up horror. It has one of the most poignant and unexpected applications of Chekhov's gun I have ever seen.

Comics fans have been happy for a while now to see our favorite characters mainstreamed onto screens big and small. Such is our delight that we have quietly tolerated those movies and shows lagging about two decades behind the kinds of stories even mainstream commercial comics are willing to tell.

Every superhero movie's third act is essentially "now we punch robots". Tom gave us a robot who makes the compromises he must to protect his family, who does everything he knows to be right and still loses. Who might be willing to burn the world to keep them safe.

I have named it the Maker of Orphans

FullSizeRender.jpg

Though its flint rod can make fire, it also wreaks darkness.

Though it was built to bring sustenance, it heralds the famine of winter.

Though its serrated butter blade be polished to a high sheen, it reflects only the futility of your existence and the bottomless void of being.

Prepare yourselves. You behold not just a mere spork, but your very doom.

You behold the MUNCHER.

Today's prayer

IMG_6325.PNG

We thank Thee, Lord, for Thy insanely convenient AirPods, and for Thy white noise app, with which we may drown out all the extroverted parents and their OH MY GAWD Y'ALL in the peanut gallery at gymnastics, rendering reading possible, world without end, Amen, Amen.

This is the new normal

FullSizeRender.jpg

Some of you are people who I love who voted for him.

I still love you, though you shrugged off mountains of bigotry and sexual assault and insanity to support him. I still love you because I know you're capable of better than that.

But you put him in charge. Now it's time for you to remember those "principles" you cited when you sad you just couldn't vote for the most qualified (and adult) woman in the world. It's time for you to get off your ass.

Because everything that's happened this year, up to and including the poor and sick having to beg for their lives every month, that's on you already. If you stand idly by, what comes next will be on you too. You don't want it.

There's Nothing to Fear

Oh, I read somewhere
That in twenty years
More or less
This human experiment will reach its violent end
But I look at you
As our second drinks arrive
The piano player's playing "This Must Be the Place"
And it's a miracle to be alive

—Father John Misty, In Twenty Years or So

Look what we did, you and me.

Rest in Peace, Bub

IMG_0306.JPG
IMG_0305.JPG

Len Wein is a name you don't know if you aren't a comics nerd. He died today.

You may not know Len's name, but he probably touched your life. He co-created the modern era of the X-Men, including Wolverine and Storm. All those X-movies people paid billions to see came from his work. He co-created Swamp Thing with Bernie Wrightson, who also died during this evil shitheap of a year. That's just the start of what Len did.

The horrible thing about working in comics is that you can have an era-defining impact on Western culture, then sit back and watch everyone else but you get rich off your work. And you labor on, for love of the game, until you die in relative obscurity. That was Len, that was Bernie. And scores more before and yet to come.

It is cruel to behold, crueler still that he should die in an era with robber barons and granny-starvers and literal Nazis taking the wheel. Len wrought heroism and optimism for a living. He deserved to die at least in sight of that promised land.

May he return to the Green.