Anywhere But Here

A fresh Start

2007-07-01T23:11:00.000-07:00

Well, yes, it very much is, and here's the reasoning for it.

1. Storywise, it was a bloody mess to try and deal with what was happening. Not that I "need the misery" so to say..but rather things were drawing out FAR to long and I just couldn't reconcile what was happening in the strip.

In other words, I was tired of watching it drag down like a weighted corpse.

2. I was debating doing a hard reboot when I rebooted back in January (or February...or whenever it was)...but I figured I'ld get killed.

In other words, this really should have happened this spring...but I didn't have the balls to do it then...so I'm doing it now.

3. I DO want to compile ABH into book form. Which I could not do given what I had in front of me. In order to publish a book, I NEED the story from top to bottom...not from middle to end to begining.

So, I could either wait untill things wrapped up with this series...move onto the follow up series (yes, there is at least one more series that I want to see out there when it's all said and done) and then try and finish up ABH...or I just do what I should have done from the bloody begining. Which is START FROM THE TOP LIKE I SHOULD HAVE.

In other words...this is an attempt to fix things once and for all.

4. My art sucked. It sucked in horrible sucky sucky suck suck ways that I did not want to see published in book form. This is MY WAY of fixing it.

In other words...My art sucked in sucky suck suck suck ways...and this is my way of fixing it.

With that said. The archives WILL be continually perusable at the comicgenesis site http://anywherebuthere.comicgenesis.com, you can go view my past shame there.

Really...it's bloody AWEFUL.

Hope this answers your questions in one big "howsyamama" swoop.

Cheers

-Jason

3. My art...from back in 04'...it sucks. It sucks in a way that I rather hate.

ARRRRGH!

2006-10-25T22:36:00.000-07:00

AAAARRRRGH!

ARRRRGH ARRRGH ARRRRGH ARRRGH ARRGH!!!!

So, Around July I dropped my home internet connection to save some green for the wedding. The plan was to do the strips at my place, and then go to Jessica's to upload strips and do any internet stuff there.

which was working GREAT by the way. Seriously, I was able to save an extra couple of bucks a month and the system worked. Yes, there were some delays, but you know, that was the trade off.

Well, about 2 months ago we started having computer problems. The battery would stop recharging. We believed the problem to be with the power cord to it's laptop. If you bumped the computer we'ld loose power and it would shut off, If you wiggled the cord to get it to power back up.

Well...yesterday...Jessica's computer went completely belly up. Dead. D...E...A...D. No power, nada. Which ment there was absolutly NO way to update on Wednesday. I've been able to work ahead to make certain that I've got strips through next Wednesday when I'll ONCE AGAIN have a connection to the net at our new place. At which point, I can be a much, much, much happier camper.

But Untill then...

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!

-Jason

The Long Road to Nowhere...

2006-06-20T22:18:00.000-07:00

NOW that In the Still of the Night is done I can write about what I wanted to write about back when I wrapped up The Long Road to Nowhere.

The Long Road to Nowhere was originally concieved as a 30 page strip, top to tails, culminating with the infinate canvas "In the Still of the Night". In fact I was working (operative word "was") on both The Long Road and Night simultaniously.

So, the plan was, a full comic book (30 pages) and then, while everyone is basking in the afterglow of a month and a half of non-stop page after page of story goodness...you get pimpsmacked across the face with what is essentially another 30 pages of story.

Why? I donno, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

And then my world went a little wonky right around the start of March. Then it got really wonky around the 15th....and then I discovered that being a fiance' takes up a damned lot of time. Picking out cakes, and trying to find the perfect ring, and getting joint checking accounts set up. Doing the "family" thing with a whole new set of relatives, tracking down old friends to be able to send them an invite...and, just in general, being there for my fiance'...showing off my culinary skills, working out household chores, balancing our checking accounts...making time to actually go out and enjoy the city we live in...

...you know...that whole "Relationship" thing...it takes a lot out of a guy.

And that's why I had to draw things out...that's why I had to fill.

I COULD have wrapped up this story line a month ago. Perhaps I SHOULD have and just published "Night" in installments.

But I really didn't want to do that. In fact, I got rather pissy at myself for having to break it up like I did.

I guess, that's what you'ld call "life". I do tend to bite off a bit more then I can chew, and I also seem to take it rather personally when I find out that I cant take on the world single handed.

Well, it's a bit of an adjustment finding out that you're not realy Superman.

Anyway, again, I'm not terribly happy with the fact that I had to "fill" and I will be adjusting it. I already know that...how, or when, or in what way...I have no idea. But this story, from about 3 pages after they got into the bath-tub, bothers me...because I KNOW how it's suppost to go, and it falls short.

And I'm anal about things like that. So it will wind up being changed for future generations to look at and go "HOLEY CRAP...DID YOU SEE THAT...30 straight pages, AND an infinate canvas...HOOOOOLEEEE SHIT!"

Because I'm a bastard, and that's what we do. We pimpsmack the world into being a better place by not giving a half assed effort.

Peace Out

-Jason

Whoda Thunk it

2006-04-27T22:56:00.000-07:00

NWA's "Straight out of Compton" done...in a whimsical folk style.

http://www.ninagordon.com/audio/straightouttacompton.mp3

some days, life is just good.

There is no god...

2006-02-25T23:10:00.000-08:00

and here is the proof.

List of turn downs

2006-01-30T15:05:00.000-08:00

Over the course of my life, I have been given an extrodinary number of turn downs upon approaching women with the hopes of actually establishing some sort of contact with them. Here's just a taste of what I've gotten in response.

Ass
Asshole
Ass licking Numbnut
Assyrian God
Abalone Snorting Bubble Head
Autistic Chimp
A Republican
A Liberal
A Catholic-that one hurt
A Heathen
A Spice Girls Fan (shudder)
Baboon
Baloon-I think the girl was really drunk when she called me this
Ballsy
Ball Sack
Balzak
Bastard
Babbabooy
Baby
Baby-EATER
Bitchnugget -a personal favorite of mine I must admit
Bill Collector
Bobbit Canidate
Boy Toy
Braindead Ape
Brainy Fuck
Cad
Creaping DEATH
Creep
Creepy
Charles DeGaul-Never hit on history Majors
Charming
Chick flick lover
Chicken
Chicken Shit
Chilling
Chitlins
Chimp
Chipmunk
Chowderhead
Chuckles
Clark Kent
Cranky Old Bastard
Cro Magnon
Crocodile
Cryogenetic Dick
Derigable
Dick
Dick Tracy
Dimwit
Dirk Diggler
Drunk
Drunkard
Dork
Dumb ass
Dumbo
Earache
Earstwhile Loss of an Emotional Investment-English majors, ya gotta love them
Ed Gien
Emotionaly Dead
Emotional Vampire
English
Evil Fucking Genius
fanboy
fat
fat ass
fat fucker
first rate asshole
Flabby
Flesh Eating Bacteria
French
Fuck nut
Fucker
fucking ass
fucking asshole
fucking cold hearted dick
fucking crazy
fucking bastard
fucking evil
fucking evil genius
fucking fucker
fucking hornball
fucking prude
fucking yankees fan
fucking mets fan
fucking Vikings fan
Gay
Giant Ignoramous
Gigantic Asshole
Gigantor
Geek
Gourd head
Gigli Lover
Gigalo
Hiddeous
Hitler
Hitler's personal sex midget
Horizontally Gifted-I like any woman who makes you think about the insult she just hurled at you.
I don't think so
Icemeizer
Icy Bastard
Icy Cold Madena
Icky Man-not the brightest bulb, I could tell by her first insult.
Ignoramous
Jack off
Jack of All trades
James Dean
Jimmy Dean
Jerk
Jesus, not you again.
John Madden's Nut Cup
Kick to the Head
Kick to the Ovaries
Killed all sexual desire in me
Lame
Let down
Letcher
Leerer-I LEER? Are you KIDDING ME.
Looser
Mambo King
Mary Sunshine
Most boring man she's ever met
Moron
Mooch
Michalangelo
Muscle Head
Narcisist
Niccotine Addict
Nilist
Nancy Boy
Nazi
Ohhhh GOD, it's you again?
Pussy
Quartermaster
Red Faced Idiot
Shit head
Taken
Touretts Spewing Heathen
Unicel Worker
Utter waste of time
Vertically Challenged
Waste of flesh
Waste of perfectily good Genetic Code
Waste of Time
Xenophobe-But I LIKE aliens.
You again?
Zygotic mystake

Jesus FUCKING CHRIST!

2006-01-28T02:01:00.000-08:00

http://www.somethingpositive.net/

SHIT

SHIIIIIIIIIT!

SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!

...

2006-01-27T02:34:00.000-08:00

Learn

Proof that American Idol is Bullshit:

2006-01-24T02:36:00.000-08:00

http://www.pistolwimp.com/media/40109/

Sid Vicious would NEVER had made it past the first cut. And this is FUCKING BRILLIANT.

And I think to myself...

2006-01-22T18:30:00.000-08:00

What a wonderfull World.

http://hubblesite.org/gallery/

Some days, there's just so much beauty to the world...and then I realized, that the entire universe is full of such promise.

The Rant...

2006-01-20T09:08:00.000-08:00

My first rant, enjoy!

Not safe for work, or possibly even human consumption.

Weird Stuff that Happens...

2006-01-19T22:09:00.000-08:00

It's odd,

That's all. Just plain odd.

Batgirl

2006-01-14T16:02:00.000-08:00

The First and Ten Project

2006-01-13T04:03:00.000-08:00

Some more astute readers may notice a little link to the right.

This year is my last in Fargo. And I've decided that THIS year, I'm sucking the marrow out of the bones of this old gal.

So, I'm going to be cramming as much "life" into living as I can. Which means, I'm heading out to see as many resturants, bars, and shops as I can. Doesn't mean I'm going to spend myself into debt, but it DOES mean that I'll be trying my hand at a lot of things that I haven't before.

Because I want to see all this city has to offer before I never step foot in here again.

The first and ten project is so named because my my "Due Date" for my move.

October 1-06...

or

1-10

So, this is me, sucking the life out of life.

Enjoy.

The First and Ten Project

What the Fuck?

2006-01-10T22:57:00.000-08:00

http://news.scotsman.com/scitech.cfm?id=16902006

What the FUCK?

WHAT the FUCK?

WHAT THE FUCK!

Ladies and Gentlemen, the US Air Force is activly looking into hyperspace travel using massive magnetic fields.

WHAT THE FUCK MAN!

Dont you hate when you're right

2006-01-07T06:20:00.000-08:00

An actual phone conversation I had yesterday:

ME: Hello
Credit Card Company: Yes, is Jason There.
Me: This is.
CCC: HI, this is ______ I'm just calling to let you know that your payment is past due.
Me: OH?
CCC: Yes, it was due on the 30th.
Me: OH, I'm pretty sure I paid that before Christmas using your online site.
CCC: Well we haven't recieved it yet.
Me: Hold on one second (pull up my e-mail accout) Yeah, I have a recipt here. Notice of payment sent.
CCC: OH?
Me: Yep.
CCC: Well, we haven't recieved it.
Me: ER...OK, I used your online service. According to the e-mail you sent me, payment was sent on the 23rd.
CCC: Well it's not in our records.
Me: Do you have an e-mail address, I can foreward it to you.
CCC: Please hold while I transfer you to my manager.
ME: (Does the curly shuffle for 4 minutes waiting for a manager.)
CCM: Hello my name is M. R_______, How may I help you.
Me: Yes, I was told that you failed to recieve payment on my credit card, however I have an e-mail reciept that payment was sent.
CCM: I see, we haven't recieved payment.
Me: ALLLLLLRIGHT...one second. (Pulls up my online bank account.) Hurm...I don't see any transaction in there either. I think something is wonky in your system.
CCM: I doubt that sir.
Me: Would you like me to foreward you the e-mail that your system sent me?
CCM: NO, that's quite allright.
Me: Allright.
CCM: Would you like to make payment today.
Me: WELL, that would be just fine.
CCM: Please hold while I transfer you to an account representative.
ME: (Does the electric boogaloo to the full, non-edited version of Stairway to Heaven...TWICE before getting an account rep.)
CCAR: Hello, how can I help you.
Me: YEs, Appearantly your online system was not working when I submitted payment. I guess I need to send ya'll some cash.
CCAR: Would you like to do an e-check.
Me: Sure, why not.
CCAR: There will be a $15 service fee.
Me: I'm...what? I'm sorry.
CCAR: Well, you see, for us to do an e-check, we have to charge you a $15.00 service fee.
Me: Wait, I'm getting charged $15? For what?
CCAR: Well, the bank charges us $30 to draft and e-check.
Me: ER...OK...I don't understand.
CCAR: We only charge you half of what the bank charges, so there will be a $15.00 service...
ME: Well buggar that. I'll just pay online.
CCAR: I can wave the fee for first time.
Me: ER...NO...that's fine, I'll just pay online.
CCAR: But I can wave the fee so you won't have to pay the service charge.
Me: ER, NO, that's FINE. I'll just pay online.
CCAR: But it won't cost you anything.
Me: HONESTLY, any place that is telling me a bank charges you $30.00 to do an online transfer...one that I can EASILY do FOR FREE on your website...well, they're not exactly instilling my confidence.
CCAR: YEs sir, but it would...
ME: ER, if it's costing YOU $30 dollars, WHY may I ask would you encourage me to send you a payment that would COST YOU MONEY.
CCAR: Well sir, this way we can guarantee your payment has been sent and.
ME: WAIT WAIT WAIT...are you implying that me paying online is not GUARANTEED to get to you...
CCAR: Well sir we cant...
ME: Well OBVIOUSLY it DOESN'T because I SENT my payment and recieved a RECIEPT THAT it was sent and you still haven't recieved it. THUS I guess your faith in the system CANT be that great if you would RATHER LOSE $30.00 just to make certain you recieve my payment.
CCAR: (Stunned Silence.) Would you like to set up an electronic checking transfer.
Me: NO, you know what...I don't think I'm going to pay online either. I'm rather concerned about your companies ability to effectivly handle online transactions. Rather, to ENSURE that BOTH of us are playing fair here, I'm going to send you a CHECK by CERTIFIED mail. That way YOU know that I know that YOU recieved my payment, and we can all keep each other happy.
CCAR: UH...OK.
ME: HAve a nice day.
CCAR: You too sir.

Things to consider...

2006-01-04T23:03:00.000-08:00

hannelore ellicott chatham
maternal cheetah loincloth
chicano health reallotment
nonethical hamlet chlorate
coach enthrallment oilheat
coelacanth Hamilton helter
nonlethal thalamic trochee
loather melancholiac tenth
hellhole Manhattan orectic
rotten melancholiac health
harmonica hellcat telethon
latent rhonchi thalamocele
I am Lord Voldemort

Taking Over the World for Fun and Profit

2006-01-03T16:41:00.000-08:00

Todays objective...

Submit ABH to over 60 alternative papers across the US.

Done

Tomorrow's mission:
Submit ABH to the remaining 130.

My hands hurt.

Ouch...

2006...

2006-01-02T20:45:00.000-08:00

Is turning into one hell of a year.

Announcement to follow on the main site in a few weeks.

All good things...

2005-12-31T12:46:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting back, looking at the year in review...trying to keep track of everything that's happened to me...

And 2005, well it's been a wild ride.

2005 is a year of transition. Whereas I know 2006 will be the year of change.

2005 Started with the strip. Really and truely, it did. 2005 was my finding my voice. Anywhere But Here was a self referancial story which was my way of venting the things that irked me in life. Dating in North Dakota, the lack of culture, the feeling that I'm being strangled by a town that just does not understand the things that are important to me.

In all Honesty, Anywhere But Here is my "novel". It's a story with a great ending, a story that will continue on through at least ONE strip, and possibly another past that one.

And it marks a transition in MY life. It means that I was stepping away from something and moving towards something else.

A year in transition...

2005 was the first time in about 4 years that I took a vacation. A real, honest to god, "THIS IS MY TIME, time for JUST ME, to do whatever I WANT, with no responsibilites to answer for." Vacation.

And in all honesty, most of the time I take "vacation" time, it winds up going to something else. It's just time off to focus on another project away from work.

And that adventure...both to NYC and the smaller one's I've taken...they've reminded me of something VERY important.

What I love is seeing things, new things, new places, new people. I love being surprised by beauty, the intricate...soulfull beauty of the world.

I saw Lavurne Minnesota for the first time in my life, and was completly overwhelmed by the perfection of it. I saw Minnetonka Falls for the first time in my life, and was amazed at how beautiful it was. I saw New York City, and was amazed at how much it felt LIKE I BELONGED there.

I saw wonderous things, things that have left me amazed, things that left me breathless.

A year in transition....

I found someone who just makes me smile...uncontrolably, unconditionally. I haven't found someone who does that to me in YEARS. And I STILL do not know what that means. I'm still sorting that out. Because, like all things in life, it's complicated.

But I've remebered who I am, I REMEMBER what I am.

The funny thing about this person is, they've awakened something in me. Something that's been DEAD for about a decade. Something that friends, friends who have known me for YEARS can look at me and realize that the old Jason that they remember growing up with, has come back to them.

And...even though there is NO possibility of anything coming from the relationship. It's...so very NICE to be back. It's SO VERY GOOD to once again be what I should be. It feels GOOD to be back.

A year in transition...

My life in Fargo is coming to a close. My father is dyeing, My grandfather is on his way out...

I'm wrapping up my work with the Non-Profit Organization I founded here. I'm prepairing for a move.

My family, without knowing that I'm moving, have been giving me momentos of home. This year, my mother gave me a scrapbook of my entire extended family. All my aunts, my uncles, my cousins, neices, nephues...grandparents.

My mom gave me a present for my birthday that's letting me take my family with me.

In November, my grandmother gave me an afhgan quilt. Something I can wear around my shoulders while I type. Something to walk around the house with...an heirloom. A reminder that will be with me for quite some time.

This Christmas, my sister gave me a Roger Maris jersey. Roger was a Fargo Boy who did good. Played for the Yankees, earned the Golden Glove, had the home run record for nearly 50 years. Roger is Fargo to me. I've played on the basketball court he played on, he's buried less then 300 feet from my grandparents.

I have a reminder of home....

And my mother, this christmas gave me a cookbook. A family cookbook, with recipies contributed by my aunts and uncles. All the food I've grown up loving. All the food that reminds me of the times I've spent with those people. Family thanksgivings, and Christmasses. Easters, Fathers Days....

I'm taking it all with me.

This year, without ANY of them knowing that I was debating leaving Fargo...they gave me pieces of home that will come with me. They've given me reminders, momentos...they've given me something tangeable to remember them by.

A year in transition...

This year, I met with some VERY good friends of mine. Some very OLD friendships. I was able to say goodbye to some VERY important people in my life.

God, 2005 has been the year of wrapping up loose ends, and laying the foundation for the year of change.

Here's a dirty little secret. I belive in God.

That's right, you can quote me on that. I BELIEVE IN GOD.

I don't belive in the Judeo Christian God, I don't belive in a wrathfull God. I belive that God is the purest expression of human nature. Deeply personal, and yet, willing to let us fall flat on our faces because it's most likely the best thing for us.

And what I belive is that this year, 2005, he's been setting me up for something life changing.

2006 I'm moving, right now it looks like Sacrimento.

Yeah, it's MONTHS away, I'm not leaving untill September-October...but God has been putting an AWEFUL lot of hints on my plate that Sacrimento is where I need to be.

It comes up in conversations, conversations out of the blue...someone will just bring up Sacrimento or San Fransisco. Two weeks I was watching Television and PBS was airing a special on the building of the Bay Area Bridge.

I hadn't watched Television in MONTHS (Honestly, I don't, I play DVD's constantly, but actuall broadcast Television is a rarity for me.)

And the very first thing I saw was a special on the Golden Gate bridge.

The kicker is this. My brother in law's Grandmother...she has a house in Downtown Sacrimento...and she rents out a bungalo above her garage...and she's been looking for someone to take the place of the ex-convict that she's renting to now.

THIS little piece of information came right out of the blue from my sister. I informed her that I was looking at moving out of the region, and that New York, Los Vegas, and California were all possible options.

To which she asked which part of California. I told her probibly around the Sacrimento area...and she informed me that I had an apartment there...if I wanted.

Yeah, weird shit like that happens more and more. EVERY fucking day.

I belive in God. I belive that there are forces that act upon us that we can never understand.

Honestly, I see God as a writer, drawing each and every one of us along a rather wonderfull story...if we'ld just LET ourselves listen, and trust the bastard...it get's easier.

And I'm listening, and I'm trusting.

A year of Transition...

2005 is the year that I remembered who I am, what I am, and why I am...

I do not know what 2006 has in store. Not exactly....

Oh, I have my hopes. Ironically, the very first business day of 2006 I have a meeting with a local "independant" paper who gave me a callback on my strip.

I may be starting off 2006 with an ACTUAL published strip. Anywhere But Here may very well see print.

That may very well be the start of everything right there. The true start of the Year of Change.

A year of Change

Here's to a year of Change, here's to new people, new places, new faces...

Here's to trusting the unseen hand, and letting it move me where I need to be moved to.

Here's to life, and all that it intails.

Happy New Year...here's to all that it may bring.

I'm finally ready to talk about this...

2005-12-28T02:00:00.000-08:00

My father is the type of man that I can only HOPE to become.

And my father is a work horse. It runs in the family I guess. I suffer from it too...doesn't matter what's on my plate. If there's someplace I HAVE to be, something I NEED to do because I feel people are depending on me, I do it. I don't give myself any choice.

November was one of those months...

Novemember I had taken on Nanowrimo. I had committed to writing a novel in a month. I was writting 3 pieces for my winter drum line program. Even with a 40+ hour worrk week, even when I was RIGHT in the middle of the Parrell Views, Paralax Error MEGA strips...

BOTH my father, and my Grandfather were hospitalized. BOTH in the same bloody week. I found out about BOTH of them going in on the same day, when my mom called and wanted me to know about it.

I had a breakdown. I had a fucking breakdown.

And I'm not bragging about this, but this is one of my nuroses. I HAD TO FINISH MY SHIT. Even with everything on the plate. Even with both my father and my grandfather in the hospital, even on the EDGE of a nervous breakdown (which, I cannot thank you enough Kelli for that night that you just TALKED to me. Just normal "my job is boring" talk...you have no idea how much that ment to me)...I WOULD NOT take a day off. I would not stop cartooning, I would NOT stop writing music, I would NOT stop writing that damned novel.

I don't think I slept much more then 2 hours at a time that whole week.

And it IS a nurosis with me. I cant QUIT when I've started something. Call it Catholic Guilt Syndrome. Call it "Bastarditus", call it "being a fucking german fuck"...but I do not go quietly, even with the world against me. I see something through.

Part of "being strong" to me, is shutting out everything else and getting the damned job done. Part of being strong for my family is NOT burdoning them with other things. Because if I'm still awake, if I'm still able to function, I CAN do something.

And it's in my father as well. And my grandfather. It's genetic I think.

And it's FUCKING STUPID.

This month, My father went back into the hospital. Ironically, it was December 6th. The same day I got Snarked, the same day an article ran on me in the local paper for doing the novel. That very same day, I got a call from my mother that he was back in the hospital. He has some sort of unidentifiable viral infection that keeps attacking his heart. It has been since July...and he keeps plugging along.

That VERY SAME DAY. 6:00 at night. He went back in.

In the past four months he's COMPLETLY REMODLED the Fargo Parish Rectory. There were days he'ld be calling from his HOSPITAL BED to make certain that the crew was getting the job done. There were days he SHOULD have been at home resting, he was remodeling that damn mansion.

That's my father for you. He's a bastard to the core.

He SHOULD be dead. Personally I think he's just waiting for me to be married off and for the missus to push out the first rug rat so he can hold his grandchild before passing on. And I cant blame him for it, because what the man's been though, he's deserved that.

In the meantime, I've been helping my parents with their business. Which involves a LOT of snow removal and some light remodeling duties. It's tacked an extra 15-20 hours onto my week. It left me near exhaustion for three weeks.

And this is "me" time right now, it's not about the strip. It's not about anything relating to the creative process, and a part of me doesn't even want to publish this.

But this is for my father. Whom I think I'm becoming more and more like every fucking day. My father who is STILL going into the hospital sporatically. My father who may NEVER beat this thing, a man who...

This is for my dad. And it's for me. And I guess I'm finally ready to bring it out to the open.

For future referance

2005-12-08T23:26:00.000-08:00

http://academic.sun.ac.za/forlang/bergman/tech/glossary/ebert_glos.htm

The Roger Ebert film glossary.

A new sick addiction...

2005-12-08T22:38:00.000-08:00

http://www.drivenbyboredom.com/gallery/gallery.php?x=26

Wow...

2005-12-07T14:01:00.000-08:00

This has been one absolutly INSANE week.

First, I got snarked...which has caused my readership to nearly triple.

Secondly, I got interviewed for writing the novel. Which only mentioned my comic in passing, but not in name. This led to my name being plastered all over the paper, and consequentially, getting a number of phone calls from relatives and FRIENDS that I haven't seen or heard of in years.

What's even odder is that I'm hearing from old high school friends. People that I probibly haven't talked with in almost a decade, who are now stopping by to read the strip.

And I'm just...it's weird.

I'm the quiet type. More or less... I mean, when I open up a bit I'm a charming bastard, I truely am. I seem to be quite good at holding down a conversation and throwing out the quips.

But attention...man I just am not use to it.

I've always been the quiet one. ALWAYS. I've never done anything really that would scream out "look at me! HERE I AM!"

So now having my e-mail inbox flooded with people cheering me on, having friends that I haven't heard from in ages say "Wow, color me impressed."

It's just weird. I'm not complaining at all, I'm just saying, it's very...different.

Anyway, cheers to all of you. Those of you who enjoy this strip, who enjoy the characters, who enjoy the humor, and who enjoy the hope and drama...I'm glad I could give you something that resonates with you all.

Peace out
-The Bastard

It's a BOY!

2005-11-29T22:39:00.000-08:00

I did it, I wrote my first book.

51,600 words. A pretty quick jump, skip, and hop across the world to battle monsters, demons, lost gods, and gas.

WHEW.

I'm taking a little bit off, just to recouperate and focus on the strip...

And then, it's off to edit it, tighten it up a bit, and send it off to publishers.

Because there is NO WAY IN HELL I'm NOT at least going to TRY and make something off of it. I worked my ass off to get that sucker done.

Almost there:

2005-11-26T14:46:00.000-08:00

I'm currently sitting at 47,000 words for my Nanowrimo novel...er...novella...er book. And the good news is, that for the most part, it'll be finished in 50,000 words. I don't see having to much slop over the edges. I think it'll be just a few words over 50,000 and that'll be it.

So, huzzah to me.

40,000 words, and an Exerpt!

2005-11-21T17:03:00.000-08:00

Downtown Tokyo was not where anyone wanted to be right now.

Due to watching the Giant Robot Zinthar, protector of the Universe, completely level block after block of Tokyo, Godzilla was in the midsts of a gargantuian fit of giggles right now, laughing histerically, or as histerically as a giant mutant lizard could laugh. It’s not that Godzilla was incapable of feeling emotion, no, it could feel quite a few emotions. Happiness, anger, love, yes, even Godzilla knew love. Why once, when he was just a few centuries old he had a wild and passionate affair with Gammera. They spent many a long night devouring villagers on the Pompaii islands, moonlight strolls, hot lava baths, it was one of the fondest memories the great beast ever had. Yes, Godzill knew love, but mostly Godzilla was designed to project anger. So when it tried to laugh it sounded something like a gigantic Lion with a gazell caught in it’s throat. Moreso, it tended to bounce about a lot when it was rolling around on the ground making strange sounds that COULD be construed as either laughing, or coughing, which caused an aweful lot of damage to the remaining standing buildings.

“I think it’s laughing at us!” Said the Red Pilot.

“I think it’s choking.” Said the Yellow Pilot.

“Do you think we should do the Heimlich.” Said the Blue Pilot.

“I think you’re all idiots.” Said the Black Pilot.

“Who asked you?” Shouted the Yellow Pilot.

“I still say we should do the Heimlich.” Said the Blue Pilot.

“What are you CRAZY? IF Godzilla is choking WHY on earth should we try and save him?” Shouted the Black Pilot.

“Well, because it would be dishonerable if Godzilla choked to death. We are here to distroy him…we’ld never hear the end of it if we Godzilla died by chokeing to death, instead of by the hand of our rightious wrath!” Said the Blue Pilot, flailing his arms wildly with each word.

“This is REDICILOUS!” Said the Black Pilot shaking his head andcrossing his arms against his chest. “We are NOT giving Godzilla the Heimlich.”

“I say we vote on it!” Said the Red Pilot.

“This is just stupid.” Said the Black Pilot throwing his hands up.

“All in favor of giving Godzilla the Heimlich, say aye.” Said the Red Pilot.

“Aye” Said the Red, Yellow, and Blue Pilots simultaniously.

“NO!” Said the Black Pilot.

“Well, three to one, you’re out in the cold Takashi” Said the Red Pilot.

“Well so what, I’m the one piloting the Zinthor,” Said the Black Pilot “You’re vote doesn’t matter.”

The Yellow Pilot grew furious. “Look Takashi, either you give Godzilla the Heimlich or I wind up telling your wife about that affair you had with Takoma down in accounting.”

“You knew about that?” Said the Black Pilot, unaware that, now thanks to the national broadcast, so did the entire nation of Japan, including his wife, who was now making plans to leave for her mother’s and take the kids with her. The Black Pilot sat there for a second and then shook his head. “Fine, I just want to go on the record stating that I think this is a terrible idea, and that all three of you are dicks.”

“I can live with that.” Said the Red Pilot.

“Yep, me too.” Said the Yellow Pilot.

“No problem here.” Said the Blue Pilot.

Zinthar made his way up behind Godzilla, who was spasming wildly with laughter. Zinthar grabbed Godzilla from behind, lifted the giant beast up from the ground, and began performing the Heimlich Manover.

This, tended to rather surprise Godzilla, who misinterpred this act of kindness as a rather homoerotic display. Mostly because the gigantic bulls head belt buckle was pressing itself firmly into his backside, like some sort of perverse technophalic codpiece.

“Uh, Nike, what’s going on?” Said Cadriel, who was watching her revive a still onconcious Matthew.

“I don’t know, but I swear if I didn’t know better, I’ld say it’s not intended for family viewing.” Snarked Nike.

“What happened?” Said Matthew as he sluggishly regained conciousness.

“I don’t know, you tell me.” Said Nike as she hunched over him
Matthew moaned as he got to his feet. His legs felt like lead jello, and if he had anything in his stomach it would have easily spilled onto Nike’s black t-shirt. “Ugh, it’s awake.” He said holding his head in his hands. He wiped the bit of blood that trickled from his nose.

Nike helped him stand up, he hung to her left shoulder like a rag doll. Matthew shook his head and blinked. “IS Godzilla being violated by a Giant Robot, or am I halucinating.”

“No, he’s being violated by a Giant Robot.” Said Nike as she helped him towards the others.

“Ah, good…” Said Matthew as he took two wobbly steps foreward towards Gabriel “I was worried that these little trips were beginning to damage my bran.”

“Your what?” Said Nike, giving him a concerned look.

“My brain.” Said Matthew, correcting himself.

“Well at least it hasn’t yet.” Said Nike.

So close...so so close...

2005-11-17T04:36:00.000-08:00

I'm almost to the 35K mark. The goal for this Friday is to hit 40K for the Novel.

Want to be at 45K by my next writers meeting on the 22nd. I WANT to be at 45K at my next writers meeting. That gives me one week to get the last 5,000 words and to take a nap for a week.

And then, I'll have done it. I'll have written my first novel.

Not to say it'll be GOOD, but I'll have actually WRITTEN a novel.

One more thing to check off my list. Next up, see the grand canyon. After that...huh. After that I'll need to find a partner.

Weird shit I find doing novel research:

2005-11-14T18:48:00.000-08:00

Wanna talk about a golden age, I just had a crash course on Diamonds. DeBeres, and most of all...

http://www.wired.com/wired/archive/11.09/diamond.html

Synthetics.

My head is kinda swimming due to information overload. In a good way. We may actually see something absolutly AMAZING happen in just a few years.

http://www.usatoday.com/tech/news/techinnovations/2005-10-06-man-made-diamonds_x.htm

My head is begining to spin at what some of this means...

Just a mental post it note:

2005-11-12T20:30:00.000-08:00

Ghandi's take on the Seven Deadly Sins:

Wealth without Work
Pleasure without Conscience
Science without Humanity
Knowledge without Character
Politics without Principle
Commerce without Morality
Worship without Sacrifice

Something for me to chew on.

WOO HOO!

2005-11-11T20:24:00.000-08:00

Ten Days into Nanowrimo and I'm at the half way mark! 25,000 words baby!

Rawkin! I'm going to shoot for the 30K mark come Monday. Fingers crossed.

Novel Exerpt

2005-11-11T17:46:00.000-08:00

“OK,” Gordon said closing his eyes and raising his hand up in protest. “First off, I need YOU to get ME to a little place to the south east of here.”
“Does it have a name.”
“Not one that I can pronounce without having to grow about six more tongues.” Said Gordon.
“Well, what’s close by.”
“Head towards Ponape and then make a b-line south. Trust me, you won’t be able to miss it if it’s back up.”
“Right,” Said Thoth grabbing Gordon by the collar, we’re off.
“Wai…”Gordon trailed off before passing out again.
Gordon awoke five minutes later as the blood was once again drained from his brain.
“You’re right,” said Thoth. “this place is a little hard to miss.”
Gordon stumbled groggily to his feat, he was beginning to think that using an ancient god with a wicked case of ADD was a rather ill thought out plan.
“Oh, and I’ld watch your step.” Thoth said to Gordon as he stumbled about like a fraternity drunk after a wild night with a sority hous trying to regain his bearings.
They stood on a cliff covered in green ooze and peppered with greyish barnicles. Abover them loomed a hediously jagged rock face, which reminded Gordon of an ebony rib cage. Gordon knew that what he needed would, of course, be on the top of those menacing black cliffs. There was a general rule about it in a handbook that he had read ages ago. “When facing off against occultists with a penchant for bringing about the end of the world,” the passage read “you will always find yourself running short of time and having to navigate some odd thing, like a hiddeously menacing cliff, or some trap lined temple, or some sort of monstrous beast called forth to stop you before you can reach them.”
Gordon shook his head still nautious from being throttled by the laws of physics. “Sweet god, if I had anything in my stomach I’d puke it up now.”
“What, puking over half of western america wasn’t enough? Do you have to mark your teritory everywhere you go? I could run back and get some sushi or ramen if you really…”

Gordon angrly slapped his hand over the mouth of the god. “Just…shut…up…and…wait…here…” he spat. “If I need you I’ll…whistle or something.”
Gordon walked to his right, looking for some way to get to the top of the cliff in front of him. After just a few minutes he found a craggedy trail cut into the side of one of the cliffs. “I really should have some help with this” he thought. If they’re even remotly close it’s going to be a very bad time.”
Slowly he ascended the slime covered steps. “To bad nobody ever thought to install an elevator” he thought aloud.
Little did Gordon know that someone DID, in fact install an elevator. It was actually quite marvelous really. Glass walls, brushed aluminum intereior with bronze accents. With three maticilously crafted buttons from ivory which were inscribed with “B” “L” and “1”. Given the relative age of the thing, it was exceptionally well preserved, with hardly an ounce of slime or a barnicle to be found.
This was due to the fact that the english occultists had cleaned it top to bottom before use. Because even though they may be English Occultists bent on bringing about the end of the world at the hands of something just slightly younger then the big bang, there was no reason they should have to schulp about in something hideously covered in slime.
Unfortunatly for Gordon, the elevator was on the other side of the massive island, and he would have to take the stairs.
“Allright,” He thought half way up the cliff face. “this is taking far too long.” He looked up to the top of the cliff, closed his eyes and muttered a quiaint little spell. When he opened them again he found himself at the top of the stairs, and holding a bottle of white zinfindel. Using magic was always a tricky affair, even for a direct descendant of Rasputan. And sometimes, even if you did get the results you wanted, there were some rather odd side effects that went along with a successful casting.
“Huh, I wonder what the zinfindel is for?” He thought, shoving the bottle into his trenchcoat pocket.
“Hey!” Said Thoth, screaching to a hault. “There’s an elevator over this way.”
“That’s wonderful,” said Gordon, his impatience was beginning to show. “I thought I told you to wait where we were.”
“Sorry,” said Thoth “I got bored.” He smiled and looked at Gordon. “What’s the bottle for?”
“I don’t know,” said Gordon “I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.” Said Gordon, reaching for a cigarette. He flicked his zippo and took a deep drag.
“Hey, over here!” Yelled Thoth, who was now roughly 100 yards from Gordon staring down into what appeared to be a giant crater. “I think I’ve found something.”
“Keep your damned pantys on” cried Gordon, who was briskly walking over to Thoth. If there was one thing he didn’t want to do, it was run while smoking. It was a terrible thing to go through, and even though time was of the essence, there were just certain things that he would not do, no matter what the consequences were.
“Will you get a move on!” Yelled Thoth, excitedly tapping his foot and sending little bits of green slime flying out from underneath.
“What is it?” said Gordon, who had reached the edge of the cliff.
“What do you make of THAT?” Asked Thoth, pointing down into the crater at what appeard to be a rather charming looking Irish Cottege.
“That,” said Gordon, “Is where we need to be.”
“Ahhh,” said Thoth, rather contently. “Well then,” he said grabbing Gordon by the collar, “I guess we had better be going.”

”WAIT!” Screamed Gordon, “Let’s just take the Elevator.”
“But it’s so SLOW” pouted Thoth, who was becming rather bored with the whole state of affairs.
“It may be slow, but at least I won’t wind up blacking out for 2 minutes after you break Mach 7.”
“It’s not MY fault that you’re so fragile.”
“Sorry, guess I just wasn’t built for life in the fastlane.” Said Gordon, clearing his throat. Now come on we’ve…” he trailed off as Thoth sped off to the Elevator.
“What are you waiting for?” Yelled Thoth. “We got places to be.”
Gordon just shrugged and ran towards the elevator.
“Sweet Ra but you are slow,” said Thoth after thirty minutes, and then sprinted off with a dash of speed that would cause a Titan missle to blush to pick up Gordon.
“What are you do…oof,” stammered Gordon as Thoth grabbed him by the waist nearly breaking him in half from the force.
“Just cant bare to wait for you.” Said Thoth who was already circling around to head back to head to the elevator.”
“SEE,” Said Thoth tossing an unconcious Gordon onto the floor of the elevator. “That wasn’t so bad now was it?”
Gordon was awake by the time the elevator dinged and “B” button turned a charming lime green.
“I wish you would stop doing that.” Said Gordon, once again stumbling to his feet.
“Hey, I cant just sit around waiting for you to get your crap together.” Said Thoth waiting for the doors to open.
Two hooed occultists were a bit surprised to find a man in a trench coat and a lycra wearing egyptian god of travel waiting for them. Quite honestly, they were expecting pizza.
“SHIT!” Cried Gordon, grabbing the bottle of Zinfindel and cracking on of the occultists over his head.
Thoth just looked a little surprised.
“Don’t just STAND there,” Yelled Gordon, “Hit him!”
“OH, OK, if you insist.” Thoth extended his fist at supersonic speeds reserved for returning orbital sattilights, completely decapitating the second occultist with a single punch.
Gordon just stood there as the body of the occultists dropped to the ground with a wet thud, stunned silly at what he had just witnessed. “Next time” Gordon said, holding up a finger nervously “Try not to hit quite so hard.”
“Sorry about that.” Said Thoth.
They made their way to the cottage. It was rathe quaint, with a rose garden, and a thatched roof. Emerald Green shutters trimmed the windows, and little flower boxes with herbs seemed to cheerily welcome visitors. Above the door was a wooden mantle with an octupus carved into it.
Gordon looked down at a little grass woven doormat that read “Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!"
“Interesting” Said Thoth “Fh-glue, megel-naff K-tulu R-lich wgaw-negal f-taging? What exactly does that mean.”
“In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu lies dreaming.” Said Gordon lighting another cigarette. “More or less.”
In all actuallity, just about every translation from the tounge of the great old ones into something resembling human language was wrong. This was contributed to the fact that the original translator was in fact quite mad, and tended to try and make things sound far more sinister then they actually were. “Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn” is not actually, “In his house at R’lyeh, dead Cthulhu lies dreaming”, but actually “Welcome to R’lyeh, the home of Cthulu, wont you stay for a cup of tea?”

Novel Experpt

2005-11-11T17:44:00.000-08:00

When Gordon awoke, he found himself in the shadow of the land of the Rising Sun.
And needless to say, Japan was having one hell of a time.
First, due to the large jolt of seismic activity that resulted when Wyoming was scattered to the four winds made many in Tokyo rather nervous. Citizens of Asia’s largest city became a little more antsy when a few hours later Mount Fuji decided to get into the act and rained down hot fiery death upon anyone within a 40 mile radius.
They became a little bit more concerned, when the tsunami which was generated when the South Eastern half of California jumped slammed into them with a 50 foot wall of water, covering half the city with slimy, smelly, dead dolphins just minutes before Gordon’s arrival.
But what REALLY got he heart popping, was the news that due to all the current commotion, Godzilla was spotted just 30 miles off the coastline.
Now this did tend to frighten Japan, as Godzilla had only appeared in movies, seeing him now, without the zipper seams was a tad bit much for them to truly grasp in any way outside of sheer Pavlovian terror.
Thoth had the wonderful luck of delivering Gabriel and his crew just seconds before the big Lizard was to make landfall.
“What’s all the commotion about?” Said Gabriel as a sea of Japanese raged past them while Thoth was dropping him off.
“Ugh,” Said Gordon as he was coming too…being a direct descendant of Rasputin did have some benefits, like making one nefariously hard to kill. “Where…ouch” he said shaking the black spots from in front of his eyes from his vision “Where…are we?”
“I think we’re in Japan.” Said Cadriel, who was just being deposited along side Gordon and Gabriel.
“We’re in Japan?” Said Gordon, “JAPAN! Thoth! We’re about 1,200 miles from where we should be!” His yells would do little good, as Thoth was already half way across the Pacific in full sprint to grab the last of the party.
“Where are we?” Said Nike as Thoth dropped her off.
“We’re in Japan, the little runt has us on the wrong frigging Island” Shouted Gordon over the screaming masses.
“Look, I’m a little rusty, it happens.” Said Thoth shrugging.
“It happens…wait. Why is everyone panicking?” Gordon looked at the wet streets covered in dead sea creatures. “The tidal wave has passed…so…what exactly is all of this…a…”
Gordon looked up and saw exactly what the commotion was about. “What, exactly, is that?” he said pointing up towards the thirty story high irradiated lizard.
Gabriel and Cadriel looked up in Unison.
“Oh crap,” said Gabriel, the Beast of the Sea just woke up.”
“Godzilla…Godzilla is the beast of the sea?” Said Gordon, not taking his eyes off of the reptile.
“I would guess so.”
“THE BEAST OF THE SEA IS FRIGGIN GODZILLA!” Screamed Gordon as he grabbed Gabriel by his golden robes. “THE BEAST OF THE SEA…GODZILLA.”
“Yes, it would appear so.”
“GOD-FUCKING-ZILLA doesn’t EXIST!” Yelled Gordon at the top of his lungs.
“I beg to differ,” said Cadriel looking up at the radioactively mutated reptile. “That appears to be some rather conclusive proof to the contrary.”
“Well, you see, we kinda had to contract some of this out.” Began Gabriel.
“HOW can you CONTRACT OUT a FICTIONAL CHARACTER to play the role of the FUCKING BEAST OF THE SEA!” Gordon said, shaking the angel Violently.
“I honestly don’t know,” Said Gabriel “I’ll ask Michael when I get back upstairs.”
“Ok..ok…ok, ok,ok…first thing’s first.” Said Gordon, trying desperately to regain his composure. “Where’s Thoth.”
“Sorry about that,” said Thoth dropping Nike’s Edsel behind him with a loud thud. “Almost forgot our luggage.”

ARRRRGH!

2005-11-10T05:12:00.000-08:00

Was only able to get about another 500 words on the novel done, because I needed to move the story along for the strip.

Mega Strip coming on friday, haven't even counted the pannels...but it's quite a few.

Links that make me smile...

2005-11-09T22:58:00.000-08:00

I got linked from a comic called Indefensable Postions, which on it's own is a rather out there strip...and not sutable to everyone, but quite good in it's own right.

But his comment concerning my strip made me smile:

Anywhere But Here -- If Goethe wrote for Doonesbury, it might look a lot like this.

Take THAT Trudeau!

Some days I wish I was this funny...

2005-11-08T22:48:00.000-08:00

http://sinfest.net/d/20051107.html

God, I love that strip...

Carnaly, if I could without messing up my screen.

Day 7...

2005-11-08T13:47:00.000-08:00

And I just hit 20,000 words!

I may just pull this off yet.

Chapter 4 Exerpt:

2005-11-03T21:19:00.000-08:00

Death was not a happy camper.
Certainly being Death does have it’s rewards. Not ever being hungry, or tired, or thirsty is a nice little trait to pick up. Having metal bands dedicate an album to you does tend to impress the ladies. And, of course, there’s the bike. You cant help but look completely bad ass on a low riding, flame spitting Harley Davidson.
But Death does tend to be quite the full time job. Always jotting here, or running there. Never really having time to enjoy the finer things in life. Sure you wind up meeting completely fascinating people, and Death truly HAD met them all…but the problem is by the time he got to them, well, they’re already DEAD. This tends to make their conversations rather one sided.
Death particularly was disappointed by his conversation with Albert Einstein. Death was quite the fan of Einstein’s work, and was anxiously awaiting what he had hoped to be quite the stimulating conversation.
Instead, Einstein said all of five words to him.
“OH, I’m dead? That sucks.” And Albert proceeded to pout the rest of the way to the pearly gates.
Sure, there were some rather interesting conversations that came his way. He remembered one with a small child from South Africa about 200 years ago. The boy was fascinated with the whole bit about not having to breath, or eat, or how much fun it was going to be spitting down a people from heaven, which death had to explain was going to be a bit of a challenge since heaven wasn’t really ABOVE the earth, but more like SIDEWAYS to it.
And now, looking at 400,000 souls, all of whom were from Wyoming, all of whom through years of being trained in the art of “pleasant Midwestern conversation”, Death seriously was beginning to wonder if the job was truly worth it.
“Why Hello”, said Susanne McMurry, a long time residence of Casper. “That was quite the little jolt now wasn’t it?”
“Yes, I imagine it was.” Said Death, shaking it’s head. This was the 578’th conversation that had started out this way, and it knew that there were at least another 300,000 conversations that were going to go exactly the same way.
“Well then, who are you?”
“I’m Death.”
“OH, well that’s a VERY nice bike you’ve got there Mr. Death.”
“Why thank you.”
“What are we doing now.”
“Now YOU are going to judgment, and I’m going to move along to the next soul.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun.”
“You have no idea.”
And death took her hair in his hand and with one swift swipe of it’s sickle sliced off a lock of her hair and moved along to the next person in line.
“Why Hello”, said Ryan Schuster, a cattle farmer who up to the part where he was pretty much atomized lived right off of Highway 14 out of Casper. “That was quite the little jolt now wasn’t it?”
“Yes it was.” Said Death, shaking it’s head again.
“Well then, who are you?”
“I’m Death.”
“That’s a pretty sweet bike you’ve got there.”
“Why thank you.”
“What are we doing now.”
“Now YOU are going to judgment, and I’m going to move along to the next soul.”
“That sounds kind of interesting.”
Death was beginning to consider just getting cards made up. “Small little business cards” it thought “Black with red ink. Something simple, Nice big skull on the front, something simple on the back like ‘Hello, you’re dead, going off to judgment, yes it’s a nice bike now isn’t it.’ That would simplify this whole process”.
“Why Hello”, said Tom Stanawoski, a student at the University of Wyoming who was working part time for a liquor store in Burlington. “That was quite something wasn’t it?”
“Yes it was.” Said Death, shaking it’s head again.
“Well then, who are you?”
“I’m Death.”
“OH WOW man, I’m a huge fan.”
Death gave him a good little once over. Tom was dressed head to toe in black and wore more eyeliner then Tammy Fay baker at the height of her addiction to Maybelline products.
“Thank you” said Death “Always nice to see someone who appreciates my work.”
“That’s a pretty nice bike”
“Why thank you.”
“What are we doing now.”
“Now YOU are going to judgment, and I’m going to move along to the next soul.”
“Oh, rocking.”
Yes, he’d defiantly need to get some cards printed up.

Woo Hoo

2005-11-02T21:03:00.000-08:00

Up to 6,500 words in my Novel.

No guarantees I'll make it to the 50,000 word finish line...but it's been fun so far.

Newest Exerpt from Chapter 3:

Cadriel was the odd duck of the heavenly hosts, to say the least.
Cadriel was given the rather menial designation of Gods Interior designer. Which, was a fine and dandy job to have given the rather large size of heaven. One can never truly be short of work coordinating bedspreads with the wallpaper in a place that defies all understandable laws of volume.
However, when the great war of heaven broke out, Cadriel was…well…rather useless.
It’s one thing to be the Angel of the North Wind, or the Angel of Lightning, or even the Angel of the Morning. But to be the Interior Decorator of God, well, one is rather useless in a battle. And while he DID fight on the side of the Angels, most of his time was spent trying to coordinate the perfect shade of purple to effectively capture just the right contrast against the golden breastplates of the heavenly hosts. Trying to effectively change the robes of the Cherubim to a more luxurious silk in the midst of battle rather offended those participants.
Needless to say, he wasn’t to well wanted after it was all said or done. However, he hadn’t earned a place in the fiery pit below.
So Cadriel spent most of his time on earth, trying to spruce the place up a bit.
The white lilies along Victoria Falls, Cadriel.
The breathtaking sunsets along the Fjords of Norway, Cadriel.
The entire bloody renaissance, Mostly Cadriel, but the Italians helped a bit too.
Prince’s fairly large wardrobe of mostly buttless purple pants and cravats, All Cadriel’s doing.
And now, the Interior Decorator of God was spending his time selling antiques to the citizens of Bismarck North Dakota. The Angel was trying his darndest to instill SOME sense of class into a city that mostly revolved around…Bismarck truly didn’t revolve around anything. Not even Sunday Gossip. Bismarck just sat there mostly, void of any real redeeming or interesting quality outside of the fact that the former interior decorator of God had now taken up residence and was giving out free painting tips to anyone who would listen to him.
But Cadriel enjoyed his work there, and felt that he was beginning to make a difference since he had now convinced TWO people in the past 100 years to paint their house taupe instead of the hideous eggshell white they had originally intended to go with.

Chapter 3 The begining at least.

2005-11-01T19:36:00.000-08:00

And I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal, and, lo, there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood, which, I imagine, will freak a lot of people out considerably.
-The Revelation of John, with a few liberties.

Quite a few people did indeed freak out with the new hole in the center of North America where Wyoming use to sit.
The White House, for one, was feeling rather antsy. Covering up a meteor the size of Texas hurdling towards the earth was one thing. For one, it was quite a ways out into space, and wouldn’t hit for at least another 10 years. Wyoming, on the other hand, was smack dab in the middle of everything. Trying to convince people that nothing was happening in Wyoming was, ironically, going to be quite a challange. Wyoming, they were certain, wouldn’t really be missed. But the looming clouds of ash were certain to be spotted by people on both coasts, and those were the people who could sway an election.
The official White House statement was “Well, this is new, but it’s only one of the flyover states, so it’s really not that big of a deal now is it?”
This put many people on the coasts quite comfortable, because there was a great deal of truth in those words, and it was only Wyoming after all.
The people of the Midwest were a little more shocked by it. But they shrugged it off as they normally do and returned to talks of snow and the latest model of John Deer tractor.
The South, on the other hand, had just gone ape shit crazy, and saw the sign for exactly what it was. Baptist ministers began counting their congregations feverishly trying to figure out who had been swept up in the rapture. Riots broke out when EVERYONE discovered that no one had in fact disappeared from the face of the earth. Well, no one outside of the Yellowstone blast site.
This caused quite a few riots to break out. Which was quickly followed by a great deal of fires, and looting, and raping, and then a very large community picnic, because this was the south after all, and even in a state of total anarchy, some things like southern hospitality and a good mint julep just cannot be denied.
California tended to freak out as well, but only Hollywood, where the Scientologists, who took it as a sign that Xeno had returned, realized that they were all now completely boned. Tom and Katie kissed each other one last time, and then lead a considerable congregation to the top of the Cliffs at Point Reyes National Seashore and jumped off into the ocean.
Nobody much missed them.

Chapter One, an Exerpt:

2005-11-01T13:22:00.000-08:00

I rather like this part, the ludacristness of it makes me smile.

Since the tender age of 24 Daniel was abducted by aliens from a parallel dimension, for the simple purpose of driving him mad, and thus enabling a large army of them to slip through unnoticed. The idea was that if they were establish a portal at his Montanan farm, nobody would give any notice because the only witness to the massive congregation of strange tentacled beasties forming in his barn would be a crazy Montana sheep farmer. After years of crying wolf and calling 911 to report an alien abduction, who would pay him any attention?

The anal probing alone didn’t bother Daniel. No, actually he rather enjoyed that part. In fact he liked it so much that it broke up his marriage. One night, in the heat of passion, Danny decided to scream out in ecstasy “probe me with yer salad tongs Maggie May!”.

Needless to say, his wife of 3 years found this act rather…odd…to say the least, mostly because her name was Chrissie. She found it even more unconventional when, during preparations for the families Thanksgiving dinner, Daniel grabbed her turkey baster and proceeded to reenact the previous nights abduction in disturbing, erotic detail in front of Aunt Marguerite and Great Granddad Stanley.

Chrissie got the kids, the dog, and the truck, but through a fluke of paperwork, he got the farm, which suited the citizens of Seti Alpha IV just fine as that’s what they wanted in the first place.

However, over 12 years many things change, including the politics of Seti Alpha IV. Their grand leader T’schuagh was ousted in a rather lopsided election, where his political opponent Ch’ulck ran on a strict “No plasmis for Neuyctars” platform of peace and negotiations with nearby dimensions. Ch’ulck’s victory meant that a quick invasion of the nearby dimension that housed a deranged sheep farmer was completely off the table for the time being. No, the age of Ch’ulck would be an age of reason, enlightenment, and back handed dealings in smoky other worldly dimension. Because Neuyctars is Neuyctars, and the economy of Seti Alpah IV lives and breaths off of Neuyctar. Ch’ulck just was smart enough to keep his invasions out of the public eye.

This, came as a complete relief to the governments of our Earth, because trying to cover up a full scale invasion of an army of squid headed death beasts would be a tricky media affair to say the least. Even with their hands full in Iraq, the media could easily get their hands on some second hand footage taken with a cell phone, and before you could say “piss-nugget” Fox News would be on the scene.

No, this was a HUGE relief to the current government. They already had their hands full with a war in Iraq who’s soul purpose was pulling attention away from the meteor the size of Texas that was hurdling towards us at 170,000 miles per hour that NASA had discovered in 2002. Having one last thing to have to worry about trying to cover up would keep the White House quite happy.

But it was quite disheartening for Daniel. Who for 2 years now was waiting patiently for the sweet, sweet tentacle phalanges that he had come to love.
And that’s what really bothered Daniel. After 10 years of sweet, sweet probing, he was now without any release.

Oh sure, there were giant squid, but those are so hard to come by when one lives in Montana. He tried an eel once, but it just wasn’t the same. The squirming felt wonderfully familiar, but the accompanying electrical shock just would not do.

And I'm off...

2005-11-01T11:48:00.000-08:00

National Write a Novel in a Month has officiall begun, and this morning, I wrote the prelude to my novel, so I figued I'ld share.

Enjoy

Prelude:

It was a dark and stormy night, with the subtle exception that it was neither dark, nor stormy, nor was it night, for life in the Midwest would NEVER qualify for anything even relatively as interesting of a start as “it was a dark and dreary night”.

No, rather it was a plain, drab Midwestern winter day. A day where snow would burn ones retinas out with little more effort then an elephant crushing a cockroach while accidentally sneezing.

This was the type of day it was, bright, snowy, blindly drab when Joshua arrived at his woodshed of an apartment in the dreary suburban hollow of Grover’s Grove Minnesota. When Joshua had first read about the apartment in the Grover’s Grove classifieds, he distinctly remembered words such as “quaint”, “studio”, “spacious”, and “breathtaking view of a lake”. However upon viewing the place, he found that it was little more then an 8X8 back room of a run down house with a stove, a closet, and a small rectangular window that overlooked a sewage treatment lagoon.

But on the salary of a Wal-Mart employee, the price was right.

Grover’s Grove was the type of community that old people went to die. Well, not so much die but slowly fade into obscurity and banality. Grover’s Grove was not without it’s charms mind you. The local Wal-Mart was the social hub that any swinging night club would be, without the music, or high society drinks, or…well culture. But it was a good place for one to go and converse about things such as the weather. As things were in Grover’s Grove, much of the talk about the weather revolved around…snow. Occasionally it would focus on things like tractors, and corn. However, since there were few tractors and even fewer cornfields to be found at this time of year, much of the conversation revolved around snow.

Hideously, mind numbingly dull conversations on snow.

So, when Joshua arrived at his hovel after a hard day of folding shirts into neat little piles at his menial job at a menial outlet store in a menial suburb, he found it rather enlightening to discover that his small cubicle that he called home was in fact on fire. For it would mean that tomorrows conversation would not, in fact, revolve around snow.

“This wonderfull,” He said aloud to his landlord Suzanne, who was running around wildly with her arms flailing like a goose who had just been sucked into a jet engine. “Thank you, thank you Jesus.”

Suzanne was a woman of rather stout nature, whom one could conceivably call “pretty” only if “ugly” was rapidly bringing up the tail of said compliment. She wore her weight poorly, like a sumo wrestler that had let himself go. Her matted red hair fell across her forehead like straw falling out of the lower intestines of a milk cow. Half obscured was, in fact, a preferred way of viewing her, as her face was horribly scarred with a rash breakout of acne which had developed shortly after the release of Domino’s “steak lovers pizza”.

“Joshua” she shouted with a voice that reminded him of Satan, if Satan had in fact just inhaled 500 leters of helium and had just taken a good whacking to his privates. “The building’s on fire.”

“So I noticed.” He said, staring with a cheery expression.

“Whub, it’s…AIIIEEEE….FIRE!” She screamed amid throwing her hands up and subconsciously reciting an ancient Native American rain dance in the hopes that the Great Spirit could be bothered long enough to send a quick shower.

He didn’t, instead, he sent more snow.

And this time, it wasn’t the pleasant snow that you so oft find in Christmas greeting cards, the kind that gently kisses evergreen trees with the light airy wings of butterflies as they dance across the heavens.

No, the Great Spirit, who at this particular time had grown quite prissy from playing hand after losing hand of strip poker with the ancient god Nebaroo, decided to just piss on the situation at hand.

He sent snow, snow unlike anything the world ever experienced. A snowfall so horrible that, upon watching the morning news coverage of it caused Rolland Emerich to stand up and scream “YOU SEE, YOU SEE YOU FOOLS! DAY AFTER TOMORROW COULD HAPPEN JUST LIKE I SHOWED! AND EBERT CLAIMED IT WAS NOTHING MORE THEN A HORRIBLY CRAFTED EXCUSE FOR LIBERAL PROPAGANDA! THE FOOLS! THE FOOLS!”

The Great Spirit sent the equivalent of a Category 5 Hurricane in snow, which fell, oddly enough, in the shape of Ludwig Von Beethoven’s Signature across a 2 mile area. With the exception of the “I” in Ludwig, which was terribly misshapen and somewhat resembled a Q. This can be contributed to Suzanne’s horrible jello like form contorting wildly during her ill timed freak-out.

And quite unfortunately, Joshua’s building fell smack dab in the upper curly-q of the “B” of Beethoven, and thus was completely unaffected by the saving grace of having 500,000 gallons of frozen water dropped on top of a rather hot object.

In fact, the only thing that it DID actually do in regards to the situation at hand, was to completely isolate the burning building from the rest of the outside world, making it completely impossible for the fire department to actually come to the rescue.

This, in fact, wouldn’t have made much of a difference at all, since the Fire Department in Grover’s Grove consisted of a single, often drunken, Vietnam vet who would fly into flashback induced convulsions as soon as he saw the smallest of flame. This, would oft cause quite a humorous confrontation at local bars when someone tried to light a Zippo to take a drag off of their cigarette. With the Fire Marshal convulsing and often times leaping across the billiard table and trying to smother the 9 ball with his body thinking it was a live grenade.

Needless to say, Joshua was rather screwed, and yet, oddly happy over the entire affair. That was until he came to the realization that his prized possessions were in fact no leaving this plane of existence in one horrible pillar of smoke.

“My baseball cards.” He said in despair. “I was so close to having a complete set.”

The complete set in question was that of the 1987 baseball season, produced by the Topps baseball card and bubble gum company. He had taken this rather menial task when he returned home from watching his first baseball game at the tender age of 12. And he had come so close, missing only card #204, Sammy Stewart.

The complete irony of the situation was lost on him, as Sammy Stewart himself was only barely aware that he had even played major league baseball in 1987, much less that there was a card issued of him for that year.

Trapped within a wall of ice with a raving walrus of a woman, and discovering that his life work was slowly drifting away to the heavens, Joshua despaired.

And from the heavens, Beethoven smelt the acrid smoke of burning bubble gum looked down, noted his signature, and began waiving his arms furiously at the misshapen “I” in Ludwig. This, quite unfortunately, accidentally prompted the third chair Angel to begin a trumpet solo.

And the Gods all crapped themselves, because like it or not, the big song had begun, and like the bastards they were, they were completely unprepared.

This was indeed going to be one crappy Apocalypse.

Just because I haven't...

2005-10-30T13:24:00.000-08:00

Allright folks, I guess there's only one way to discribe this.

I'm nucking futs.

I've signed up to participate in National Novel Writing Month.

http://www.nanowrimo.org/

Now, I've never written a novel before in my life. I don't even know HOW to write a novel.

But, life be ######...I'm writing a novel.

In 30 days. On TOP of my strip, on TOP of my duties to my drumline program...

Because...I'm crazy I guess.

I have NO idea what I'm going to write about. No idea what the story is going to be, and NO idea how I'm going to do this.

But, ya know what, everyone should try something different? Non?

Right...

So, wish me luck that I can finish this.

Cheers

Making art for fun and profit....

2005-10-28T10:53:00.000-07:00

Some rather interesting news...

I stopped by the screen printing shop today to check on the hold up on the shirts. The manager assured me...ASSURED me that the final screens will be set up on Sunday, and the first run of prints for pre orders WILL be ready to go out on Monday.

And THEN, he did something I didn't expect.

He told me he looked over my site, and was rather impressed by the art. Moreso, he asked me if I'ld be interested doing some freelance work for his shop.

And for the FIRST time in my life...I'm looking at getting PAID for doing something I love to do. I could actually make a CARREAR out of doing something I love.

Now let me explain a little here.

I went to school to teach music. Because I LOVE music. I love the power that exists in music.

Music is emotion...pure...raw...viscerial emotion. I love classical music...well...not all classical music.

I LOVE instrumental music that grabs you by the balls and twists. Music that can turn you from utter peace to pure rage in an instant.

I love music that fires me up. Which is why I love Jazz. Yes, I love Miles Davis, but Miles Davis isn't Jazz...it's Miles.

Jazz is Stan Kenton, Jazz is Buddy Rich, Jazz is the music that you listen to and feel your heart beat so fast that you can scarecly breath.

THAT'S JAZZ. To me, it's the pure, unadulterated emotion of life.

But I DON'T teach music...I teach drum corps. And I do it for free, because to ME, it's so important to show young people just how amazing, how absolutly bloody spectacular that side of music is.

And I do a damned good job of it.

But I don't get paid for it. I get paid for running a television and radio station.

And it's an allright job. It pays most of the bills. Makes certain I can afford to take some trips out of town...gives me a few little adventures here and there.

But I most certainly do not LOVE working for television and radio. To me, it's pointless work with absolutly no reward beyond a paycheck.

What I LOVE doing is creating art. I love crafting stories that resonate with people. And I hope to do that for a living some day.

And THIS...this little piece of freelance work excites me. Because in a round about way, it's telling me I COULD actually make...well...making ART a paying gig.

Yeah, freelancing sucks. BUT, it provides me with more opportunities.

Now I'm NOT going to get my hopes up to high. But it is something that I did want to share....because I'm bloody frigging excited at this prospect.

Cheers
-Jason

The Tempest:

2005-10-26T03:45:00.000-07:00

I can see clearly now, the rain is gone,
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day.

I don't know HOW many script revisions I've done to the tempest. On first count...I think it's been 7. Possibly more then that...I've just lost count.

But I've FINALLY nailed down everything. Placed all my words just right.

I have 9 pages done...the first 8 and the last.

I FINALLY have my script right for page 9.

And page 10 is pretty close to being in the can.

All because Chris is Chris...

When you walk through a storm
hold your head up high
And don't be afraid of the dark.
At the end of a storm is a golden sky
And the sweet silver song of a lark.
Walk on through the wind,
Walk on through the rain,
Tho' your dreams be tossed and blown.
Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone,
You'll never, ever walk alone.

Reading comics for fun and...er...

2005-10-26T01:24:00.000-07:00

Found another little comic that speaks to me...

http://www.taintedink.com/

Think...addams family. Focusing on a 6 year old devil girl.

Mondays are the Best Nights of the Week...

2005-10-25T14:06:00.000-07:00

Because Monday's are bastard nights, and bastard nights are good nights.

So, last night, Bastard Night, I wound up going out bar hopping. Bloody fucking odd situation to fall into I'll say.

But it rather went down like this:

I run over for my normal Monday night ritual, free wings at Space Aliens with my drum line staff.

So, our waitress comes by, I flash the bastard smile, order a killians and call her "love"...which, is completly innocent in my book.

And my drum guy just gives me this look....like..."WHAT THE FUCK HAS GOTTEN INTO YOU?"

"What I say with a laugh".

"That's the third waitress this week that I've heard you say 'thanks love' to".

"What, it's English...it's perfectly acceptable."

"We're not in England."

"True, but I was raised on a lot of Monty Python and BBC imported over on PBS."

"It's just weird, would you be comfortable with me calling the waitress 'sweetheart' or 'pumpkin'?"

"Sweetheart I could see, Pumpkin would be pushing it."

"And stop smiling."

"What?"

"You don't smile...what is this...you're all..."

"Charming?"

"It's just scary, I'm not use to it."

I make a serious face and say "Is this better?"

He looks at tme and laughs..."Yeah."

I smile again "Well, sorry to throw you for a loop...you're just going to have to get use to it."

Then my Color Guard guy shows up...and he brings two friends with him.

The next thing I know Lurch (my drum guy) takes off and, It's myself, Craig, Carissa, and Aubrea (Aubrea, poor poor girl, who names their daughter Aubrea outside of England?). Bar hopping our way down downtown Fargo.

And I must say, I had a blast. Morgan and Whisky drinks were two for one at just about every place we went. After 4 I begun to lose count...which I think was halfway through the first bar.

Before I know it, I'm in the basement bar of the Fargo strip club (no strippers, couldn't cover ALL the bases of debauchery that night)...but good bloody hell was it fun.

And most of all, I got to whip out the charming bastard hat all night long. I discovered that Carissa is a fellow web cartoonist who draws a strip called Alex Bea Zoe. I even got her to write her phone number IN LIPSTICK (an absolute FIRST for me) and to kiss the card that she wrote it on.

What can I say, it's good to have the old bastard back.

The weird thing is...I had a moment of syncronicity again tonight...and syncronicity is really begining to piss me off. As I'm enjoying my third purple penetrator at the basement bar...I hear a song that takes the wind out of my sails and reminds me of someone...and I cant help but smile, and goddam dispair.

And I'm so...shocked...by this reminder, that I need to leave the bar. Just to "get some air" as I tell them grabbing my cigarette case.

I'm begining to wonder if I'm developing a bit of Apophenia...pulling together completly unrelated things and seeing threads where there are none.

Bloody hell...

Anway, next Monday is Halloween...which means...well it's halloween.

I get to wear my horns. And I'm looking foreward to it.

-Cheers
Jason

I think I'm in love

2005-10-22T18:57:00.000-07:00

From The Devil's Panties

Jennie, call me, we'll do lanch.

Bloody Wonderfull Chris, and other stories.

2005-10-21T03:50:00.000-07:00

Whew...

Allright, I have about half of part 8 of this story done. Part 7 should have been it...but then...

Chris pulled something on me. Something I didn't really expect, but something that's just so true to Chris now that I understand her that...well...I couldn't leave it out.

And now I have 11 pages. 3 more pages to do (although that may get expanded...because it's Chris...bloody fucking wonderfull Chris).

And I think to myself...why, why won't you just do what I want. And I realize, she's not there yet.

Bloody fucking wonderful Chris indeed.

So this story is most likely running until November.

In other news...

I had a moment where my life scarily imitated my life.

I got a call to have dinner with a friend of mine. It was free pizza night at a local bar, and who am I to turn down a free meal.

So we get there, and I have a beer, and have my fill of pizza, and I wait for my tab.

And my waitress completly forgets about us.

So I wait for five minutes, and she still doesn't come by.

So I walk down to the Bar, put on a slight brittish accent, and say "Hey luv, did ya forget about me tab?"

She goes doe eyed on me and laughs. She winds up handing my credit card to another waitress and waitress number two goes to ring me up.

I go back to my table and wait for it. Waitress number two comes down, and cant find me till I wave her over like you would an old friend.

She hands me the tab, I make charming small talk and make her blush.

And my friend just stares at me and says "You're to friendly."

I get an odd look on my face, and go "What"

And he says "Who are you and what did you do with Jason?"

I had to chuckle

Whew...

2005-10-14T12:49:00.000-07:00

Allright, I'm just going to say this now.

OUCH.

I've been tooning for what feels like days straight. Little rest, very little rest. My hands hurt from drawing so much.

But I feel like I HAVE to get this part out.

And a part of me is disapointed.

I had to cut a LOT of the dialog to condense this down into seven pages. Some of it feels too...hurried for my tastes.

The pacing feels...wrong in some parts. And I wish I could change it...but I cant. I simply don't have the time.

Which I'm keeping in mind for the next time I do one of these.

The good news is...that the pages that I'm happy with...

Damn I like em.

I like them a HELL of a lot. And I REALLY hope you do too...

No no no, this simply will not do.

2005-10-07T23:01:00.000-07:00

Allright,

I've been reading over this, and I realize I didn't do my NYC trip justice. I wrote a 10,000 page essay on a sleepy trip to the middle of nowhere Minnesota, but, for a two week adventure to the city that never sleeps...I wrote nothing.

Bullshit I say.

I journaled my travels..I may as well share them.

Day One:

I make my final arrangements to leave this sleepy little burg of Fargo North Dakota at 1:am. My bags have been packed for two days, I double check my list for the thrid time. And I wait by the computer, hoping to catch someone online. I look at my notepad. She called before, her numbers on my caller ID...Should I? She's probibly sleeping...most likely had an adventure of her own and called it a night. And I KNOW, she's got a grand adventure of her own coming up, and could use all the rest she can get.

Buggar it, I think, I want to call, to hear her voice one last time before I leave.

1:10. I wish her a safe trip. I smile...it's going to be one hell of an adventure.

I walk the mile to the Fargo Am-Trak station, it takes me about 15 minutes. Upon arrival I iscover my train is delayed by an hour and a half. I check my bag, an oversized sports bag that contains enough clothes for 2 weeks of adventures and my trusty cricket bat. My traveling bag, a canvas shoulder case chocked full of art supplies, film, and books will be comeing with me on the train. I sit in an uncomfortable terminal seat. Shrug off exhuation with excitement, and prepair for a nap.

My nap never comes, I'm too buzzed.

By 2 AM I decide to get some air, walking in the still Fargo night I make my way to a corner gas station a few blocks away. Newpaper men are deliving the dailys. I buy orange juice and milk duds. I make the walk back with the tangy bite of OJ on my lips, and light up a cigarette. My adventure hasn't even started yet and I feel like a 10 year old...excited, full of vigor, ready to see the world anew.

The train arrives at 4:00..I board and take my seat. It remeinds me much of my youth, traveling the country by charter bus...seeing town after town sprawling by...but it's refreshingly different. The sway to the train is gentle...rocking back and forth like the waves on an ocean liner. Towns that I've passed by a hundred times seem new, exciting. Seeing them from this new angle...elevated, on the top car of a double decker train car...is wonderfully humbling.

I cant sleep...I toss and turn and I cant sleep. And it dawns on me, this...this...strange sense of enlightenment. Every moment in my life, every little piece of the puzzle.

It's leading me to New York city. I can think back to when I was 8 years old, and realize that events in my child hood have paved the way to this grand adventure, that relationships, hope, dreams, insignificant conversations all begin to take on a certain clarity to me.

For once, I feel as if I'm able to see the grand clockwork mechanisms of my life assembled in a stunning and pristine precision.

I think of her, and I smile...this woman who gave me an adventure bigger then anything I've EVER had. Someone who was forcing me to experiance wonder beond anything I had ever experianced. And all I could think of is that I wanted her here to share it.

Daybreak came at 6 AM. I was quickly pushing 24 hours. I stare out at the landscape, centeral minnesota wakes to the sunrise in deep royal blues and vivid creamy oranges. There's a mist that hangs in the air, covering this land of midnight blue pine trees and terrifingly tranquil lakes with a lilac blanket.

Magnificent. Heavenly.

St. Cloud Minnesota wisks away during breakfast. I share a half an hour with sisters Julie and Barb. Two sisters with a passion for trains, who hae seen the world from coach cars. Europe, Aisia...they tell adventures that sound like the backstories of characters in a spy novel. Our porter, Deanne, gives us his shares of stories. His life has been lived on trains, with more adventures then any man should be allowed to have.

And I realize, that my life has become terribly empty, because I've not had a good adventure for far, far to long. My life of duity and responsibility has kept me from what I loved. Traveling, seeing the world...finding these places of wonder.

I head to my seat with a full stomach and a head reeling with the sense of wonder that the world has to offer. I'm tired, very tired, and take a short little hour nap, I wake in Minneapolis, wisking away to the St. Paul station.

I have a smoke, look at the town, and in minutes I'm back on the train, heading for places uncharted.

We travel through Winnona Minnesota, a town that I haven't had the privelage of visiting before, and there, through my window, I spy a rock monolith that screams out in defiance to the red cliffs that slumber with their blankets of emerald green pine trees below it. Some day, I think I should like to see the world from that perch, and gaze down upon this magnificant land.

The roads here are red, dirty, brick red, which is a marverlous change from the dusty brownish grey that I am use to.

We cross the Missippi, and find ourselves barreling towards Wisconsin.

The next thing I know, I'm in the Dells. I haven't seen the dells in over 5 years, the yellow rocks sculpted into alien forms by the most gentle river you can ever see. I feel at home in this familiarity, yellow roads wisk by, Oak and poplar trees line our path.

In Milwakee, there's another smoke break, and I depart to view the city that I lived in ever so breifly in my last big summer of adventure. It's dirty, industrial, and ever so humble in it's working class ethic. I think of Roman Belenski, the man who gave me a home and a place to spend my last wonderfull year of my youth. God bless that man.

4:00, I hit Chicago. My train is 2 hours late, and my expected stop over of 4 hours has dwindled to an hour and a half. I follow the river, making certain that I know my way back to the station. My meanderings bring me to the "Around the Corner" bar and grill, I sit down, and ask for a sapphire martini, only to be informed by the blonde waitress that they're out of Bombay. I ask for belvadere and find my luck likewise ill. So I order a Killians...it quickly becomes three, and I quickly find myself ordering a sausage, pepper, and egg sandwitch. What comes to my table is the most insane combination of fat, vegetables, and chees that I have ever consumed. My heart starts waiving a white flag of surrender.

We leave Chicago just as the sun begins it's fatal arc into nightfall. Illonois is simply North Dakota with trees and tall buildings. I'm still in the midwest as I fall into my slumber.

Day Two:

I remember waking in Ohio, hours before the world would, and fondly remembering a previous adventure among the cornfields outside of Toledo.

I was 18, and touring with a drum corps. Ironically that adventure was also marked with someone special in my life. Her name was Christine, she'ld be the first woman I ever truely loved. The first person who...made me complete.

Relationships are funny things. Most of my life has been defined by them. And through my travels, through my adventures, I've discovered that the good ones, the truely great ones that burn with a firey passion in my mind, are the ones in which SHE brings something to the table that I do not posess.

It could just come from my buddhist understanding of the universe. That life is not a one sided ordeal. Rather it's a dicotomy.

I am a quiet individual, no, that's not entirely true.

I'm a wolf. That's the best summation of my character. I can be a loner, and survive quite well, but I enjoy running with a small, tighnit pack. When I'm in unfamiliar teritory, I tend to be more submissive. I'll circle, smell the air, try to get a feel for people, and then, once I do, I open up, and run with them...and...eventually, take my place as the leader of the pack.

MY dicotomy is someone who's the opposite of the lone wolf. Someone who is firey and passionate and outgoing. However, my bane is that I'm NOT outgoing at first. I tend to sniff the air, understand the pack, and gradually work my way in.

Christine was the first person I ever met who balanced out my equation. She was incredably firey, quick to act, very independant. I tended to balance her out, to give her a chance to slow down.

And ten years later, I can still look back at that summer and smile.

But that is a story for another time.

I slept intermittetly throughout Ohio and Pennsylvania. Towns flew by as I entered New York State, Albany, Rochester, Buffalo...and then, we found the Hudson river, and I fell in love.

The Hudson cuts a great grean swath through the Catskills. And the Catskills are absolutly breathtaking. Lumbering green giants that slumber nestled amid a winding ribbon of emerald river. Huge iron bridges that span the horizon criss cross as you venture past. Forest, so rich and lush with vegetation that you cant see anything but green.

I watched in awe as we sped past, rocketing towards New York City. Realizing for the first time in a VERY long time, that I was about to see something that I had never witnessed before.

New York greete me with grafitti as I entered into Penn Station. The arrival is dirty, with disgarded refridgerators and half burned tires littering the landscape of factories.

But Penn Station is a wonder upon itself, a self contained community of resturants, shops, and people, running to and fro from one end of the country to another. A thousand languages buzzed past my ears, a million voices stumbled into my mind, seeping every pore with a grand sense of activity.

I called my friends, who would be providing me with housing for the greater duration of my trip, and got directions to get picked up...and calmly I made my way into the greater world of New York City.

To be continued...

New York greeted me with Madison Square garden. Loud, noisy, frantic. I made my way around the building, trying to get my orientation.

North...I need to head NORTH, and then EAST. Bloody fucking easier to do with trees and fucking moss.

I asked someone on a street corner the way to Avenue of the Americas, and discover that New York people feel remarkably like Midwestern people when asking for directions.

New York is a city that feels like it was built for me. The pace feels right. People walk briskly, making their way through crowded streets, and for some reason, the pace feels right. Canyons of buildings make the city streets raging torrents of excitement.

And I feel oddly at home in all of this. The adventure, the excitement. It feels RIGHT to me.

I make my way up 7th past Macey's till I reach 47th and make my way over to the Avenue of The Americas.

When I arive my friend gives me two choices, I can spend the evening in the big apple, hit a resturant, and do some tourist stuff...or I can simply go home and shower.

Since I had been wearing the same underware for over 3 days now, the decision was fairly easy to make.

We take the subway to the financial district, and I chuckle at the Our Lady of The Holy Rosary chapel, defiantly giving the finger to the monsterous towers that flank it.

We take the Statin Island Ferry to his house, I look out to the specticled jewel that is New York City, gleaming in blue in the darkening sky. The statue of liberty winks at me seductivly as I pass her.

It's going to be a good week.

My first full day in the city includes my discovery that New York get's public transit right. We hop an express bus into the city, take a subway to midtown, and I'm left to fend for myself in the city that never sleeps.

First up, St. Pat's Cathedral. I was raised Catholic, and I've always had a special fondness for old cathederals and holy spaces. St. Pats rises to reach the heavens with glorious archetecture. Across the street I spy Atlas, cast in art deco, holding aloft the world...and it strikes me as the ultimate irony, pagan and catholic staring each other down. Only in New York could I see the clean stylized lines of art deco cast in the image of the greek heros, face to face with the growing spirals of gothic archetecture.

I make my way south and stop in the Barnes and Noble in Rocafella Center. I pick up a NY city map, complete with landmarks, and begin navigating my way to Bryant Park and the Empire state. I pass by the New York Public Library, and debate running down the front steps just like Dr. Veinkman in the opening scene of Ghostbusters.

A clearer head prevails and I move my way towards the state building.

The wait at the state building is nowhere near as bad as I anticipate. I make my way up through to the elevators and enjoy the most breathaking view of the world that america has to offer.

"I think of a man, and I take away reason and accountability."

2005-10-04T22:15:00.000-07:00

I think I need to stop writing when I'm at the point of exhaustion...I become a fucking emotional wreck and everything just starts flying out like flying monkeys if the wicked witch of the west was suffering from a case of explosive diaherrah...

So, I'm writting ahead a little bit, trying to get scripts done for strips so I can have an unadulterated birthday bash weekend down in Minneapolis.

And as I'm shaping things up, I KNEW that I'ld be writing something MAJOR for the 21st.

I mean MAJOR.

Well, as I get going on it, I realize that this is going to be a mega-strip.

I'm talking at least 3 pages. Most likely it will be JUST as large as the Guardian Devil strip...and just as emotional, if not more so.

UGH

UGH UGH UGH...why do the simply plot driven strips HAVE to be a major project full of complex characters and emotions that just DRAIN me down.

When I write things like the "Guardian Devil" strip, or the "WOW" strip, or even something as simple as the "Tempting" strip. I wind up acting out the parts, I wind up talking them out..feeling these characters, their pain, their emotional states....

And this one...fucking hurts.

I HURT writing this one. I HURT feeling what these characters will be going through. IT...

Christ, maybe I'm writing this one a little TOO close to home for my own good.

Yes, there will be some extreme language in this. And this time, it's not coming from Chris.

Goddamn...Forgive me folks...it's not going to be pretty, but it's going to be GOOD...damn good.

Scamming...part deux

2005-10-03T15:41:00.000-07:00

Yes, I recieve a LOT of IM spam....a LOT.

Frankly, it pisses me off.

So, as an attempt to give scammers the finger...I'm posting my "Scam a Bastard" logs here, this one was rather boring.

lisajoness007: hello
lisajoness007: how are you doing?
Me not bad
Me: so, what can I do ya for?
lisajoness007: your name pls?
Me: It's Jason...
lisajoness007: that cool
lisajoness007: am lisa
Me: Nice to meet you lisa.
Me: so are you in a habit of contacting guys you don't know? Or is this just something new?
lisajoness007: no
lisajoness007: i was boring in house and i feel like to found someone talk to
Me: boring in house?
lisajoness007: yes
Me: you were drilling in your own home? Were you doing some plumbing, trying to wire a chandelier?
Me: installing a VERY small window perhaps.
lisajoness007: lol
Me: so, talk...
Me: I'm listening...
lisajoness007: no
lisajoness007: talk
lisajoness007: you're a man
Me: No no no...I'm a witty man.
Me: but I need something to work with.
Me: what do you do for a living? Aside from drilling in your home.
lisajoness007: am a nurse
Me: really?
Me: LPN or RN?
lisajoness007: am work in lute general hospital here in pecham
Me: Pecham?
lisajoness007: yes
lisajoness007: that's london where i live
Me: and where were you born?
lisajoness007: i was born in arlington texas
lisajoness007: and i went to metropolitan university in liverpool united kingdom
Me: and english seems to come as a second language to you? Interesting....
lisajoness007: yes
Me: especially from someone from london, pretty dapper chaps there, have a firm grasp of pronouns.
lisajoness007: ok thanks
Me: look, scammers do not interest me...
Me: work on the sales pitch a little...learn English, it'll help
lisajoness007: ok
lisajoness007: i know we're desame
Me: desame?
Me: is that a form of english slang?
lisajoness007: yah
Me: meaning...
lisajoness007: forget
Me: forget?
lisajoness007: you've embarass me and i see that you did not attend school
Me: I know we're forget.
Me: Hey, at least I can hold down a conversation in english.
lisajoness007: really?
Me: So far I'm holding up my end....
Me: notice the "I'm"...
Me: it helps to clarify content.
lisajoness007: ok
lisajoness007: thanks
Me: for what?
lisajoness007: but you should not talk like this next time
Me: the next time someone tries scamming me?
lisajoness007: bcos you donot know who is going to help you
Me: I mean, honestly love, you claim to be born in America, you claim to live in England, and you cant even conjugate a verb.
Me: you REALLY should work on that.
lisajoness007: that is shame of you
Me: if by "helping" me you mean you have some stash of money tied up somewhere but you cant reach it because you live abroad and need someone stateside with a bank account to help you collect it...
Me: seriously love, you're going to need to work on your dialect.
Me: where are you really from?
lisajoness007: i have told you
Me: Asia, Africa, Russia?
Me: because you're inability to carry a conversation in English is showing your hand.
Me: am originally from zambia but my parents staying in texas
fmcorps: Uh huh...
Me: so you were Born in Texas, moved to Zambia before you could speak, your parents left you there, and now you're in London?
lisajoness007: and am lieving in england
Me: right...as a nurse.
lisajoness007: yes
Me: sounds pretty fishy to me...
Me: let's get to the punchline...what do you need me to do for you?
lisajoness007: nothing
Me: so why did you contact me?
lisajoness007: just to cash fun with you
Me: "cash" fun?
Me: sounds a little...interesting...since you live in London, and I live in the states.
Me: makes "cash fun" a little hard to come by.
Me: done already?

lisajoness007: bye
Me: been fun doll...

The Big Kill...Part I

2005-09-21T22:49:00.000-07:00

So...I've been slowly uploading my photos to photbucket...

The only problem is...well...

I'm running out of space.

So I'll give you as much of my trek as I can. I had a blast...time of my life...really...truely.

Many of these shots are photo studies. Street scenes because I'll be doing a NY series in Anywhere But Here in about a year or so. So just bare with me if I just say "HEY, SOME RANDOM PEOPLE WALKING DOWN THE STREET."

This is Julie and Barb, a pair fo sisters. Julie was from...singapore if I remember correctly, Barb was a teacher in Seattle. I had breakfast with them on the way to Chicago. They were traveling cross country from Seattle to Chicago, and loved trains. LOVED them, they had taken trains in Europe, in Asia...and said nothing could beat them. I cant really argue with them.

This was our porter Deane, yes, that's how it's spelt. Had the greatest stories...real talkative guy. He was wrapping up the FIRST leg of his shift...which consisted of a trip from Seattle to Chicago, and then BACK from Chicago to Seattle. Eiht days on, two days off. Quite the life.

Milwakee Wisconsin station. I spent some time in the sleepy little town of Milwakee in 1997 when I was marching with the Pioneer Drum and Bugle Corps. Couldn't stop there and NOT take at least ONE pic.

This is my first shot of Chicago, right out of Union Station. Chicago is a very "new" city to me. The buildings are shiney glass constructions that reflect far too much of the midwestern sky.

One of the...I have no idea what it is actually. Guard towers? There are little booths that line the bridges that cross the river in downtown Chicago. Honestly, I love their look.

What I loved about the "downtown" area of Chicago is the river...how the town is sliced apart in by this winding green ribbon. And the river...it's really green. It was unusual for me to see that. North Dakota rives are brown from the silt. Chicago rivers are green from the polution...I kid I kid.

Yet another shot of Union Station.

A lamppost caught my eye. Old stuff like this ...or at least stuff that LOOKS like old stuff like this always interests me.

A shot from the river front looking into the belly of the beast.

No clue what this building is, but it sure does make for a nice composition.

More old stuff for me to look at and go "oooooooh". Really I think I probibly was born a good 70's to late.

While I was wandering around downtown Chicago, I was looking for a little bit to eat. I found this great little bar and grill called "Around The Corner" which is...ironically, around the corner from Union Station. This is my waitress Beth...who..ironically enough...is married to a Jason.

That's Mike, the owner of Around the Corner. Around the corner makes the BEST sandwitches in the world. PERIOD. I had a sausage pepper and egg sandwitch that was just dripping with cheese. Best sammy EVER.

Yet another bridge over a river...yeah I know, it's kinda boring, but I like it.

Mark my words, this will be appearing in one of my strips before it's all said and done.

When I left Chicago for NYC I had the pleasure of sitting with Sister Rosemary Hayes S.H.C.S. She was just getting back into the states after doing some ministry work in Africa (provided I remember things correctly.) This is why I love trains. When are you ever going to get a chance to say you slept with a nun?

This is Yung Lee, he was making a cross contential trek on train from Los Angles to BOSTON. Five days to see the country from the comfort of a coach car.

Levi was from Iceland, vacationing in Mexico. He had to take a train from Mexico to Chicago in order to get to his plane in New York City. Dude bummed a smoke off of me in Rochester.

This is the Mingemni Bed and Breakfast...more or less. The Mingemni's are a Staten Island couple that I've gotten to know quite well through the Drum and Bugle Corps activity. It was my frist time meeting them in person. That's what you're dealing with in drum corps...CRAZY ASS MOTHERFUCKERS.

Speaking of which...that's Chris.

And Chris from a much better angle when he's not smelling himself.

And that's his lovely wife Terri.

And this is me. Us North Dakotan's don't get that excited. That was my way of saying "HOLEY FUCKING SHIT I'M HALF WAY ACROSS THE FRIGGIN UNITED STATES STAYING WITH PEOPLE I BARELY KNOW IN THE CITY THAT NEVER SLEEPS! WOW, FUCKING UN-FUCKING-BELEIVABLE!!!"

Yeah, that was about as excited I get on the outside. What can I say, I'm one smooth mother fucker.

Various shots of NYC

Radio City Music Hall

Fox News Studios..funny thing happend at Fox News Studios. I ran into Paul Reiser and Peter Falk. Chris, who works for Fox, tried to get my picture taken with the two of them.

Paul Reiser declined. I guess that time off from Mad About You really damped his spirits. I wasn't to depressed about that, but missing a chance to get my pic taken with Collumbo himself...well..that kinda irked me.

The NY Subway...I'm such a tourist.

RANDOM STREET SCENE! Yes, part of this trip was to take a number of shots for referance work on a story line that will be running in a year and a half.

St. Pat's Cathedral. I didn't take any shots from inside the Cathedral..something in my Catholic upbringing just won't let me take pics INSIDE of a church. I find it...I don't know...disrecpectfull. Bloody friggin Catholic upbringing.

Across the street from Pats is this great art deco statue of Atlas. This is why I love NYC. I LOVE art Deco, and NYC is CRAWLING with it.

Give my regards to Broadway..

Bryant Park. New York has Sycamore trees...I've NEVER seen a Sycamore tree. They cant survive in North Dakota...it's just to bloody cold for them. So seeing groves and groves of them was...well...really pretty cool.

The New York Public Library...I had to get shots of this because I bloody LOVE Ghostbusters. I didn't, however, get a chance to run down the front steps screaming, like I always wanted to.

I love this shot...I LOVE this shot, second favorite shot of my entire trip.

Very cool building, very shitty pic of it...I need a digital rebel.

LOTS of shots from the top of the Empire State Building. Again, I was looking for referance pics...but I loved the view from the top...and speaking of a view from the top...

That would be the top.

And one obligory photo of me from the top of the world...

Remember my love for Art Deco? Rocafeller Square is FULL of it...God I love that, probibly my favorite place in all NYC.

Shot from Scranton PA. Spent three days there. There are some absolutly BREATHTAKING views driving through there...unfortunatly I didn't get a ONE of them to turn out.
I NEED a digital Rebel.

And now we come to the reason for my trip...Drum Corps

Chris, my brother in arms, at a rehearsal for his drum corps The Bushwackers.

The San Fransisco Renegades, so Evil they're Good.

Some really cute chick in a St. Pauley's Girl outfit.

It's like Christmas at Ground Zero...Crunchy Frog the Prelude.

The Govenaires Brass Ensemble from St. Peter Minnesota. Govies have always looked after me and mine.

No words can do this picture justice.

A good friend of mine, Mr. Jeff Ream, showing me "the love" as he puts it.

That's Geoff, grade "A" Coozehound. Mans from Vegas...and he knows his game.

Something about people with hair from the Fifth Element that forces me to take their picture.

This is Linda...

This is Kay...

This is Linda and another friend of mine Liz, they're just friends....don't belive me?

That's Linda's Husband.

Part two to come tomorrow.

Jason's Big Adventure...

2005-09-15T09:46:00.000-07:00

Is comming shortly....

See, here's the deal. I'm all FOR innovation, I'm all for new, wonderfull, electronic things.

But I don't have a digital camera yet. I'm not a technophoboe...but rather...I have a bit o' a high class streak to me. See, I have NEVER purchased a camera before.

Funny aint it.

I HAVE a camera, which is a funny story. I won the sucker when I was in college. It's a nice little camera, has a decent zoom, and it takes VERY nice pics.

BUT...

What I WANT, is a Cannon Digital Rebel. One that I can switch lenses out on. One that gives me ultimate control over my shots.

My dad has a beautiful 35 millimeter camera. That's what I was use to shooting with in high school. And once you get use to it, you'll never want to go back. The precision, the control...

Yeah, I got hooked on the good stuff. But I haven't been able to drop a grand on a camera. Who knows, if Anywhere But Here winds up generating some cash, I probibly WILL be able to get it far sooner then I expect.

But I don't have a digital camera now. I'm saving my sheckles to get what I REALLY want. (Funny, my life seems to revolve around waiting for just the right thing....must be a personality flaw.)

The POINT to all of this is...I have a film camera. Film takes time to develop. Film takes CASH to develop. All my film was dropped off earlier this week, and I'm expecting to pick it up sometime next week (probibly wednesday or thursday) and then scanning in my pics.

So you'll just have to wait to read about the bastards trip to NYC. But don't worry, I journaled a LOT of it.

In the meantime...you'll just have to learn patience.

-Jason

And They're OFF!!!

2005-08-28T20:18:00.000-07:00

:cues up the Indiana Jones Theme:

Well, this is it...off for NYC. Won't be back for two whole weeks. I'll be keeping a paper log with me to cronical "Jason's Big Adventure". I'll have internet access to check in a few times while I'm out, but the strip is going to have to take care of itself for a bit.

Love, Luck, and Lollypops.

-Jason

Screwing with people for fun and profit

2005-08-25T18:11:00.000-07:00

So, here's the 411.

I get spam IM's at least once a day. Mostly they come from scammer who appear to belive that lonely men in North Dakota will do anything for attention.

And, ya know what, I've had it.

So today, in a fit of consumer rage, I let them have it.

Unknown Spammer: Hi!
Me: Hello
Unknown Spammer: I saw your profile on Yahoo, You look cute.
(By now I know that this is a spammer, simply because it's the same introduction I've gotten every single fucking time.)
Me: OH, thanks. I don't look that cute anymore.
U.S: I'm sure you do.
Me: No, the chemo took a lot out of me.
U.S.: What is chemo
Me: Chemotherapy, I have cancer.
U.S.: cancer?
(by now it's pretty obvious that they barely understand english, however cancer seems to ring some bells).
Me: Yes, I have cancer.
U.S.: That bad.
Me: I'm fighting it, but very tired.
U.S.: Wat do u do for livng.
Me: I'm unemployed. I spend most of my time at the hospital now getting treatments.
U.S.: That sounds bad. I am a model living in africa right now and could use your help.
Me: I wish I could see Africa. I've always wanted to see Africa, is it nice.
U.S.: It nice
Me: To bad the doctors only are giving me three months to live.
U.S.: You a doctor?
Me: NO, I wish I was, the treatments have drained me dry. If only I had a doctor's salary.
U.S.: That sounds bad.
Me: It hurts alot, I'm very thin, and I don't know how much longer I can afford the drugs.
U.S.: Can you help me leave africa.
Me: Can you help me get to africa? You should know some people there, I just want to see lake victora before I go.
U.S: If you just wire me money.
Me: Oh, I cant do that. My medical bills have left me with nothing. I was thinking maybe you could send me a plane ticket.
U.S: Why woud send plane ticket.
Me: So I can see africa before I die.
U.S.: Why come to Africa.
Me: It sounds nice, I'ld really like to see it before my cancer kills me.
U.S.: That sounds bad
Me: It's not nice. I should really be going, feeling very tired from my treatments, and I have to go back in tonight for more chemo.
U.S.: OK, hope you get better.
Me: I do too, but I doubt it, docs say it's terminal.

Next person that spams me, I'm going to have fucking lepracy...swear to fucking god.

Getting people to say nice things about you for fun and profit...

2005-08-18T21:20:00.000-07:00

I got another review today, and this one I've been anticipating for awhile:

http://thehavoc.casualnotice.com/blog/reviews/050819abh.html

The reason I've been waiting for it is because I know this gentleman to be fairly selective in what he picks out. These aren't reviews for the general public, they're his personal thoughts on web comics that he personally likes.

And he likes a LOT of stuff that I consider as outstanding work.

And my little scribbles...scribbles that some days I languish HOURS over because I hate the way a toe looks...got his highest rating.

I'm one of three strips, three out of two dozen strips that got a perfect rating. Lord knows how many strips this guy reads, just making the two dozen is something. But to be considerd on the top of the pile...

I think I'm feeling a little overwhealmed.

I don't know what it is, if I'm feeling pride, or acceptance, or...man I just don't know, but...I feel really...weird. Strangly wonderful, strangely terrified.

Maybe I just need a little more sleep.

Vacations, Deadlines, and other Related Stuff

2005-08-17T17:20:00.000-07:00

Well...now I'm feeling the heat.

I'm sitting at 10 days to finish 13 strips. Perfectly doable I think. I have about half a weeks worth already uploaded, the "BIG" mega strip is done, and the rest is all pretty much smaller filler.

Untill I get around to DOING the strips themselves, and then I realize that they all feel...too...short.

My first strip after the mega strip winds up being three times as large as a normal strip. Pain in the arse I think.

The second strip winds up being six pannels instead of four.

Hurm, I think.

The third strip...is four pannels, but they're very large pannels.

And I don't like where this is going...

So I plot out my next three weeks worth of strips. "Hokay," I think, "most of these can be done pretty quick. I think I can do all of this as my basic 4 pannel stuff. No problem, easy as pie. A few "select" strips will be longer in format, but hey, it's allright...I can do this.

And then, I look at September 9th, and I realize...I hit 200 strips.

And THEN I look at the story arc, and I realize...I have a fairly major event in the Dude's Life scheduled to hit on the 200th strip.

And THEN I realize...OH CRAP, that's going to be at least a two pager.

And THEN I start to panic, because I leave for vacation in ten days. This week, I'll be writing the bulk of the strips to cover my bum while on vacation. Next week...I guess I better get cracking on that mega strip.

And now, I'm breaking into cold sweats, because I REALLY do NOT want to miss a deadline.

At the same time I'm doing this, I'm also dinking around on the next MASSIVE Mega-Strip. It's something on par with the Guardian Devil strip. But what's worse is that it's a VERY dynamic strip. There's a lot of movement, a lot of various angles to the characters. EVERY FRAME is going to take a LOT of effort. A LOT of stuff that I have to find scads and scads of referance materials for. So a LOT of my doodling time has been spent drawing mark up sketches. And I'm not planning on running it for a few MONTHS at least. Yet, given the gravity of the strip, I NEED to keep a steady pace on it to make certain it comes out right.

Note to self, bring a few sketch pads on vacation with you. You're going to need them...also bring an arseload of pens...

Some days, it just doesn't pay to be a bastard.

Reading for Fun and Profit...Part Deux

2005-08-09T03:36:00.000-07:00

Allright campers...

I've found a strip that completly blows my mind. It's NOT for the faint of heart, it's not for those who are easily offended.

It deals with some VERY, and I mean VERY painfull stuff. It deals with death, it deals with hell...but moreso...

It deals with hope, and redemption.

It's called Jack, and it's some of the most powerfull stuff I've ever read.

In many ways, it reminds me of Neil Gaiman's Sandman. Especially the title character. Yes, it's furry...but as odd as it sounds, I think it makes it a better strip. If it was human, or representations of humans I think it would wind up being far TOO close to home. The amorphic animals wind up enabling you to distance yourself...well...untill you realize that it doesn't matter what these characters look like. They're all TOO human.

I've been reading the archives compulsuvly for three days now. I'm almost through with them...

Thank me or curse me, either way, check it out.

Some times it comes...

2005-08-08T02:19:00.000-07:00

Allright, the next few weeks...

Well, this week and Monday, all the pieces are going to be on the chess board. All questions will be answered, all views will be shared.

Monday's strip is a defining strip for "Our Hero". Just as the Guardian Devil strip was a defining strip for Chris, as it helped her move through her challanges in life, so will this monday's strip be a defining strip for our lead character.

No, you still aren't going to learn his name.

But you're going to understand a bit about who he is, you're going to find out an awefull lot about him.

Now this may seem like it's awefully early into the series..but realize we're pretty much in the begining of season three of a five year television series. There's a good year and a half of strips before that "first" strip that was published on December 6th, 2004.

From here on out...things are going to feel a little different. Oh, I'll still be bringing the funny, don't worry about that. But...well...the dynamic is going to change.

And it's not going to be the only time in this strip that the dynamic will change. I know that the next major "shift" in the comic will probibly lose me some fans. I'm going to wind up losing a LOT of fans actually...because things..

No, that would be telling.

I'll issue that warning and explination when the time comes.

See you Space Cowboy...

Jason

Just wanted to share

2005-07-30T22:20:00.000-07:00

My best friend sent me this e-mail. Hope he can forgive me for sharing it.

Now I realized he's kinda biased in his opinion, knowing me as well as he does. But of every living, breathing, human being on the face of the earth, I value his opinion the most. Jeff is the closest thing I have to a brother, in many ways he's probibly would be more a brother to me then if I HAD a brother.

So when I got this e-mail, I got a little misty eyed, and just sat in a warm glow.

I started reading ABH in the days after you told me about it. Not long thereafter it had become part of my daily creeping (maybe slithering) back into conscience routine when just arriving at the office. In the weeks that passed, I’d chuckle while wondering why more people didn’t vote for Mac as a favorite character. Slowly, I found myself craving to know how a strip’s plotline might resolve at the end of the week. Next, I’d have some anxiety that I might have to wait an entire 24 hours to have that resolution another week. Cut to Wednesday and me sputtering incendiary fits of rage at keenspace for not being up and letting me know how Chris is going to come to terms with her past, and I realized that I’m starting to really care about these characters.

When I think about how I personally tend to define Art in my life it has always been this:

Created material that provokes an emotional resonance within the observer.

When I read the feedback on your forum, see the page views climbing, cheer you on with the reviews, and realize my own fondness for the strip, it becomes apparent to me that what you have created resonates with a great many people.

Bravo, old friend.

Jefferson

p.s. Not long ago, up north in Duluth, near the lighthouse, on the end of the pier about 200 yards into Lake Superior, Angie said “yes”.

You hear that?

My friend's getting married.

MY FRIEND IS GETTING MARRIED!

Bravo my good man, Bravo! Just let me know when it is so I can plan accordingly. We can go look at towel sets sometime. I think you'll want the egyptian cotton ones, preferably in a royal or prussian blue, but your tastes may have changed a bit since the last time we did such.

Another Day, Another Conquest.

Jason

And the critics have spoken....

2005-07-30T21:47:00.000-07:00

http://www.livejournal.com/users/looniewolf/2513.html

Yeah, I liked how "Guardian Devil" turned out too...

And so we come to the end...

2005-07-29T15:47:00.000-07:00

Of the "Last Temptation of Chris" arc. I had never intended for Mongo to be Christina's guardian angel, it just...kinda...made sense.

Likewise I never realized that Chris' dad was dead till this Tuesday. Yeah, I said "realized," I swear to God Chris exists in some alternate dimension, fully fleshed out, and I just find these cool bits and pieces of who she is and let you guys discover them in the strip.

That's what I love about doing this strip. Yes, I know how it all ends, but there are still surprises for me to find, things I never realized about this story, these characters, that once comes to light, really makes it interesting for me to put it all down on paper, all the more exciting for me to get to the next part and find out what REALLY happens.

I mean, we all know that the hobbits win out against Sauron, the real fun is seeing just how they do it.

The Last Temptation of Chris

2005-07-26T02:54:00.000-07:00

This week, Chris is going to be growing an aweful lot. Chris is...

I remember reading about the great sculptors, and how great sculpture isn't created, it just emerges from the marble chip by chip while you whittle everything away that ISN'T the sculpture.

Chris is much like that. She was always intended to be in the strip, I still know what role she'll play in the story, but she is amazing. The more I write her, the more she winds up revealing to me.

I've also determined that YES, this will be the start of year three of the strip (odd isn't it...seems like it's only been, what, seven months?) This is really Chris' year, and Chris' year is year three.

So ABH will conclude (checks callander) around December of 2007.

Enjoy the ride while you can.

Cheers

Jason

Anakin You're Breaking My Heart...

2005-07-21T17:42:00.000-07:00

So, I'm wrapping up the strips for next week, and I come to Tuesday's strip, and I discover that it's breaking my heart.

Literally...it turned out that well.

I don't want to say anything more then that, but Tuesdays strip really hit me hard. When I got done with one pannel, I started tearing up.

Damn you Chris, damn you for being such an interesting character to write.

Hope ya'll will like it.

Seeing the World for Fun and Profit...

2005-07-18T23:11:00.000-07:00

I needed a weekend out, I needed to get away from everything for little bit. So last week I requested for two days off, and made plans to catch a few drum corps a round the Minneapolis area. Saturday got away from me so I decided to head down Sunday morning.

I awoke at six in the morning. I was on the road by eight. My soundtrack for the trip was the third desk from the cowboy a bebop series, “Blue”. The city itself is An amazing mix of jazz, contemporary, classical, and just weird shit. For this trip it was just perfect. There's a strange synchronicity between music and what happens to me when I listen to music. Especially when I’m driving. Maybe it’s just that the music itself is made a soundtrack that makes it easier to pick out things are happening around me, or maybe it's simply the tumbers of the universe coming together once in a millineum to radiate with a single clarity. Regardless of weither it's a grand design or simply the grasping of straws this trip was endlessly...remarkable.

Driving down to Minneapolis I’ve done thousands of times. The trip to the cities is very normal. It’s a three hour drive from Fargo to Minneapolis much of it is across hills and trees and lakes. ND itself is flat mostly unremarkable, and pretty barren. Minnesota itself is covered in trees and lakes with hills that quickly rise and fall. It’s a beautiful land, but it's a familiar land.

And yet, something happened to me this trip, something different.

St Peter lies about 60 miles to the south of Minneapolis. I know the highway have taken it p dozens of times but for some reason the entire way down to saint Peter was... well different. I couldn’t recognize anything on my from Minneapolis to Saint Pete. It was strangely... unfamiliar. I actually stopped halfway to saint Peter’s to make certain that I was on the right road.

And that’s never happened to me before, not Minnesota at least. Minnesota’s my playground, it’s a land that no matter where I’m at I always feel like I know were I’ve been. This time was completely different, this time I felt like I had not been there before. And then strangely excited me, it gave me the sense of an adventure.

And I was really in need of a good adventure.

I reached St. Peter at 12:30. It was a longer drive then I expected. I stayed for a few hours, took in a drum corps show, chatted with some friends, and got my first sunburn of the year. Perhaps my first sunburn for much longer then that.

I realize that I need to get out of the house far more often.

I left St Peter Minnesota and about 6:00 in the evening, after visiting a friend and hanging out at one of my favorite bars in the world.

Patricks on Third is a drum corps sports bar. There are bugles on the walls, the bar is littered with pictures from drum corps throughout Minnesota and Wisconsin. I can not step foot in southern Minnesota without least having a beer and Patrick’s. Patrick’s is a Mecca for me It’s just a place to come home to. I stayed there for were about three hours. Saw some people that haven’t seen years, in reality enjoyed myself.

I had two choices one was to go north the same way I had come or The head east into South Dakota. I had done to the bad but on its last fall it’s always a healthy place for me to be. There is something about the South Dakota badlands, the black hills, that puts me at ease. So I decided to head the east.

And I’m very glad I did.

It took me two hours to reach Luverne Minnesota in the the south eastern tip of state. I realize that a trip to the badlands would probably not work into my schedule, so I decide to head north on Minnesota State Highway 75, and follow that up to Moorhead Minnesota. Heading north out of Luverne I discover a hole where the road should be. I don’t mean a pot hole, or a bit of road construction, I mean quite literally there is a HOLE about 10 feet deep and mile long where the road SHOULD be. No markers, no real notification that there IS road construction. Just a sign saying “road out”. I wander around the town for a few minutes trying to find a detour around this…gaping lack of highway, and come upon a family going for a walk. Politely I ask directions, and like a true Minnesotan, they offer them up with a warm smile.

My detour takes me a half mile east, and directly to the foot of the Blue Mound State Park.

The blue mound is one of those natural wonders that people just don’t tell you about. It’s not a huge forest, or massive rock formation, it’s a cliff half exposed through quarrying.

But it’s magnificent.

Approaching it from the south, it’s a 100 foot cliff, with specks of rose and lavender protruding forth from a prairie of green. There’s a road that snakes to the top of the cliff, which showcases these, beautifull, quarry faces. The bedrock that makes this natural structure is Sioux Rose Quartzite. A pinkish stone that, in it’s raw form, sparkles like multifaceted gems in the sunlight. There’s a large open quarry of it visable from the road, and easily accessed by foot. Walking amongst it makes you feel like you’ve visited another planet. This strange new red landscape, full of jagged rocks.

I turned around and the view was spectacular. Standing from the top of a 100 foot cliff you can see this little Norman Rockwellesque town, nestled in the midst of a sleepy valley.

It’s one of the few times that I’ve been taken aback by a scene, and felt the world was strangely….perfect.

I take out my map of Minnesota and scan it hungerly. I notice two more state parks that I’ve never been to, and I make it my mission to see them before sunset. Ave Maria hops up on my playlist just as the sunset lights up the summer sky.

It’s 8:30 by the time I leave Luverne Minnesota. Heading North on Highway 75, the land becomes…

The land is something that I’ve seen only in dreams. The hills around northern Minnesota are steep, like ocean waves during a hurricane. Driving them feels like a roller coaster ride, constantly ascending and descending these dare devil grades. The land in southeastern Minnesota belongs to the western. In a fit of blessed synchronicity the Bebop soundtrack rolls up something that belongs to a spaghetti western. Whistling cowboys and a jew harp twangs away to a lone gun slinging guitar. Here the land curves towards you gently, half circles slowly arc from the horizon. Cattle graze in fields overlooking gentle valleys.

It’s all too…perfect.

Never before have I seen a place on earth like this. Even in pictures. The gentle sloping land curves like a woman. The land looks to be mostly cattle, the grass, is golden in the late evening sun.

The sky itself is growing orange from the sunset. Clouds are suddenly alight with the color of ripe mangos. Vibrant pinks and reds dance across the sky, and I realize I’m fighting for sunlight as I’m speeding towards Pipestone Minnesota and Split Rock Creek State Park. I detour five miles off of Highway 75, and come to an oasis of trees and water on this sea of rolling prairie. I enter the park gates just as the sun touches the horzon, and realize that if I want to make my last destination, I’ll have to cut my trip at little more then seeing the enterance to eden.

Haistly I turn around, noting the yellow coneflowers blissfully painting the land surrounding the gates to the park. “Next time”, I tell myself, “next time I’ll venture further into this wilderness.” The light is waning, Silos stand like black sentries against a vivid orange sky. Monoliths on the prairie watching over the green cornfields and amber wheat and barley fields that patchwork the land.

On my radio I hear a small jazz trio playing an upbeat tune. The bass hops playfully as I speed 10 miles up the road to Pipestone.

My car throws long shadows onto the walls of corn that blanket the land. The entire land slowly changes, the sky is changing from orange and golden yellows, to dark royal purple. The land changes from golden yellow, to blue green. Bales of hay stand like pillows on a grassland.

I find pipestone just as the sun leaves the horizon. I’ll have at best 20 minutes of twilight before the land becomes a dark backdrop of midnight blue. I miss the entrance to the park, and find myself on a gravel back road. Night is decending on me quickly, but as I turn a corner, I find myself looking at one of the most amazing sights.

Pipestone is nestled amongst a river that runs through those gradual curves. The park appears to be a historical sight…the last true “fort” before entering the prairie. And looking over this land, in the glow of the twilight, I can see a history that spans 200 years.

Settlers looking westernly over what would appear to be a sea of grass. Trees barely speckling what lays ahead of them. Nothing ahead at all really, except never ending prairie. On the side of a gentle sloping hill, the town of Pipestone is the last essence of civilization. Everything to the west is new, and unfamiliar, and untamed.

Darkness settles quickly. I head west determined to make my way to South Dakota and Interstate 29. Minnesota after dark takes a more sinister feel. The clouds obscure the moonlight, making driving on anything that’s not a major road treacherous if one is not familiar with the path. The paved roads themselves can be little more then reflective lights on a dark night.

Somehow I find the South Dakota border, and the familiar ribbon of Interstate that I’ve driven dozens of times. I make my way into Brookings South Dakota for fuel. It’s 11:00, two hours to Fargo, and I’m debating just sleeping at a truck stop.

A song that sounds an awful lot like something that Sting would perform comes on the radio,

“We couldn’t save them
so now we just pray them
words that we couldn’t say

Funny, aint it
Games people play
Scratch it, paint it, one and the same.

We couldn’t find them
So we try to hide them
Words that we couldn’t say.”

I think of someone and smile.

I’ll head home tonight.

I’m 100 miles from Fargo when the moon finaly appears through the clouds. Up till now I’ve simply been staying within the glowing lines of the road markers. Now, the landscape of South Dakota comes out to play in the night. Rugged, rustic, familiar. I’m home. I cross the North Dakota border at midnight. The Shooting Star Casino welcomes me with a neon glow and the promise of nickel slots. Slowly the familiar towns come and go. Hankenson, Wapeton, Kindred…

The glow of the city of Fargo can be seen 10 minutes before you can even hit the city borders. It’s dead orange hue hanges close to the horizon. It’s an oasis of light on a landscape of black nothingness.

I pull into town at 12:30, starving. I realize that I haven’t eaten anything more then a hamburger and a bowl of clam chowder. I stop at a Perkins restaurant, and order a glass of orange juice and their “double bacon eggs benedict”. I realize that whomever created hollandaise sauce deserves a Nobel Prize. The smokey, salty taste of the ham and bacon fights against the thick egg yokes and hollandaise sauce. I haven’t felt this pleased over a meal in a very long time.

I devour my food hungry, listening to a foursome of college girls gossiping aimlessly about their lives. I smile for no apparent reason. Across the restaurant is a couple on the last leg of a first date. She’s laughing at all his jokes, he keeps flirting across pancakes.

My meal is gone before I even realize it. I tip the waitress a fiver.

Ten minutes and I’m home.

One day, eighteen hours, and I feel like I’m a king of the world.

Every man needs an adventure. Every man needs a chance to find himself amongst the wonders of the world, uncertain of the path that he should take. Every man should discover that the only way to get anywhere is to simply chose his direction and go. Far too often have I found myself in familiar surroundings, in comfortable landscapes. Far to often have I felt trapped by those familiar surroundings and comfortable landscapes. For me, I can only feel free when I do not know what it is that I shall find around the next bend.

Make your path, and move. Some times where you end up isn’t where you intend, but the reward can be just as great. Find the unknown, and discover the peace that lays in the uncertainty of life.

Reading Comics for Fun and Profit!

2005-07-15T11:19:00.000-07:00

I don't link other strips on the front of my site...I'm still not quite sure why, but I dont. However there are some strips that deserve your attention, strips that have really pulled my interest, and I figure it's about time I share:

Where Drunk Meets Genius-Simple sickening fun
Ugly Girl-One of the most brilliant character concepts in history.
Girl Genius-Pur Genkius.
Sinfest-Pimping has never looked so good.
Alien Loves Predator-Pure good old fashioned ludacrist humor.
Scarecrow-Love this "strip". I hope to god Corgan finishes it.
C'est la Vie-Jen Babcock is a hottie, and the strip is good too...but daaaaamn if Jen Babcock is NOT one very fine hottie.
Perry Bible Fellowship-The most sick and twisted ideas ever to be shat upon the earth. I laugh so hard I piss myself.

There are MANY more strips that I read off and on from time to time, but these strips I come back to time and time again. But there's one strip that I would be very depressed to see go away.

Count Your Sheep-I'm going to go off on Count Your Sheep. It is, by far, the number one strip that I HAVE to read. There is something so complex about the humor that it's simple. So innocent that it's perfect. CYS is THE strip for me. I adore it. In a world where everyone is trying to "outedgy" the other guy CYS just nails the perfect "childhood" comic strip. If you're not reading it, you should be reading it. Please read it, it makes the world a better place.

Voting Incentives for Fun and Profit

2005-07-14T16:19:00.000-07:00

I've been in a bit of a moral quandry concerning the issue of "voting incentives". For those of you who do not know WHAT a voting incentive is, let me explain.

There are webcomic voting lists. Those lists are an easy way to promote your comic...PROVIDED people can find it on the list. For instance, if you make it into the top ten of a list you're going to be garnering a fairly decent exposure for your comic. You've just opened up your market considerably to people who actually LIKE to read comics.

Now the trick is getting enough hits to rocket your strip up to the list so people can find it.

Voting incentives are little pieces of artwork that you can toss on those sites that people can ONLY see if they push the "VOTE YOU BASTARDS! VOTE!" button.

I HATE pimping my comic. I really do. It feels dirty. I would much rather have it be something that people find and go "damn, I like this comic, I need to check in to see what happens. I need a little pick me up."

And a good number of people HAVE. It's a beautifull thing when I get e-mails or personal messages from people who read the strip DAILY before they go to work. People have actually said that their day doesn't feel complete unless they get to read my strip.

Do you know how good that feels to me. "DUDE, it's like reading a strip in a newspaper, Anywhere But Here has become part of my daily routine." This is why I get figetiy when keenspace crashes. I hate dissapointing people.

Sorry, I have to remember that masturbating the ego results in hairy frontal lobes.

Back to voting incentives and pimping....

I HATE PIMPING. I want the work to speak for itself. I am NOT a salesman. I am not a promoter. I'm a workhorse. I DO shit. I don't like TALKING about doing shit, I'ld much rather DO shit.

Pimping my comic is akin to talking about doing shit, it's not DOING shit. And I feel bad doing that. I like to think of myself as a modest fella, and I'ld much rather NOT say anything about my strip then be out there pimping and prodding my strip to the masses.

But, to some extent I DO have to pimp my comic. If I don't it doesn't get read. Voting incentives encourage you to press that magic little button, which in turn makes it easier for other people to find the strip.

So I'm doing voting incentives. Once a week. A new one to encourage people to help me promote the strip. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take a shower. I feel a little dirty turning you guys out like this.

Seeing Systems for Fun and Profit...

2005-07-01T02:15:00.000-07:00

Very few of you who read the comic probily know me personally. I am rather sure of this because my readership is quickly approaching the 250 daily reader mark (actually it's surpassed it, but my return reader base floats between 220-230 on any given day with spikes depending on just how much buzz a strip gets). Given that I think I only know about a dozen people PERSONALLY, that is to say, know what they most likely had for breakfast on any given day, there is a certain amount of inpersonality towards my readership and myself.

This, I feel is a good thing. My strip is a story. It's not a daily rant, it's not a personal opinion (although my personal opinions are reflected within the strip). It's a story. One that I want to tell.

Now then, what does any of this have to do with this post beyond mindless rambeling.

Well.

If you know me personally you'll know I have this fascination with patterns and systems. Namely, systems PREDICT and EXPLAIN patterns.

And I love systems, traffic flow systems, water systems, philosophical systems, mathematical systems. Systems WORK at explaining the laws of the universe.

I've recently started reading essays from the Ayn Rand institute, and I must say, I rather kick myself for not reading them earlier because they begin to explain the systems in which my government, and in fact all forms of government, operate.

http://www.aynrand.org/site/PageServer

Now what I personally believe in is CHOICE. We all have the ability to chose our actions, for good or for ill we ALL have the ability to chose our paths in life.

Recently there have been actions in government that greatly disturb me. The most disturbing one is the decision by the Supreme Court which effectivly establishes that ALL private property belongs to the government, and that government, if it so choses, can claim private property to use as it sees fit.

http://www.cnn.com/2005/LAW/06/23/scotus.property.ap/

This effectivly means that the government owns all private property, it is simply a matter of the Governments benovelance that enables the individual to use it. If the Government deems that there can be a better use for the property, it may be confescated.

Why does this concern me so? I mean I'm certain that the people of the communitys that tear down old buildings to make way for newer, more lucrative commercial developments, must recive a great benifit from these efforts.

Why this bothers me, is that we have turned from a PRIVATELY based country. A country where the INDIVIDUAL was his own, personal king, and become a MONARCHY where the STATE hold Kinghood. To some, they may see no problem with it. Where as a true monarchy establishes their ruler through lineage, we are given the ability to chose our rulers. If our rulers offend us, we can remove them through a simple vote.

But it's a FLASE security. To misquote Thomas Jefferson, "Tyranny is when an individual lives in fear of it's government, Liberty is when a government lives in fear of it's people."

Liberty is an AMAZINGLY frightening thing. It is freedom absolute. Not anarchaic freedom, a complete lawlessness which any many is unrestraind to follow whatever his base desire whisper to him. Rather it is the understanding that you are FREE to do whatever it is that you desire, that doesn't affect another man to do what he so desires. Liberty means that you CAN fail...but you can also SUCEED beyond your wildest dreams. Nothing in life comes without a price. And the price for being truely free, truely able to do what you desire to do with your life, means that you run the risk of being completly ruined.

Those who chose security over liberty deserve neither liberty or security.

We, as human beings, must come to the realization that life is a gamble. That there IS no gurantee for sucess. We must recognize that our price for sucess is the inherent risk of failure. If we are to sacrifice that risk of failure, we will NEVER acheive sucess. For it is only when mankind realizes that he has no CHOICE but to suceed, will he be motivated to suceed. Failure is a system upon itself. It teachesw us what works and what doesn't. The smart individual understands that each failure is a lesson. That every failure is a path to sucess by ELIMINATING the path that does not work. The fool sees failure as an ultimate, the final path.

We must begin to chose liberty. We MUST begin to accept that our choices cary with them the weight of failure. We must realize that in order to be free we will never be secure, in ANY form of the word. We must understand that the best system is not one of mob rule, but of enabling the INDIVIDUAL to make the best decisions for themselves, and a system that enables the poliecing of those individuals who would take the ability to chose from the individual.

Begin to see the systems, and you'll understand how they're suppost to work. You'll see how they've been worked in and around to pervert their original intent, and you'll begin to see why it's so important for them to be in place, and why we should ALWAYS fight to keep them in place.

Read Ayn Rand. Read Thomas Jefferson. Begin to understand the system that is America, and then fight for her.

Seeing Patterns for fun and profit...

2005-06-25T00:48:00.000-07:00

My nephue turns 5 this Thursday, and it's rather interesting to see things change with him.

He's really into Star Wars, with the same wonder and curiosity that I had towards it when I was five years old. I find it rather odd to share that with him, to watch him laugh and gigle and ooooh and ahhh over watching Luke duke it out with Vader.

The pure pixi-stix high he gets from that series makes me smile. Seeing him play with a lightsaber makes me smile.

It's sharing a story, a narrative, like a campfire ghost story, or a Grimms Fairy tale that amazes me. Seeing the pattern repeated. Youth get's their dreams, their hopes, their glimmer from stories, stories that generations share.

Star Wars is one of those stories that we now share.

And the pattern repeats...

I aint saying a thing...

2005-06-23T00:45:00.000-07:00

Not a thing. Ya'll can figure out this one on your own. For some of you it will be simple, and the only question will be weither or not....hmmmmm. Nope, to much in that already. Part of the fun for me is just watching the speculation. I already know how it all ends, so that surprise is gone for me.

So no I just have to watch ya'll and see it unfold in your eyes.

In norelated news. I have just fallen in love with a band called Ladytron.

It's that retro eighty's electronica that just grabs me...well that and I have a thing for dark haired nymphs.

I do it all for love...

2005-06-14T23:38:00.000-07:00

Because this isn't paying shit yet.

I kid, I kid...Friday is a long one again. Sensing a trend here? I am too. Cut it out, I will never live up to your expectations.

Yes...

2005-06-09T23:40:00.000-07:00

Those are the lyrics to Tools "Die Eier Von Satan" A nice shiney half pence for those who figured it out on their own.

Picked up another review today...

2005-06-06T16:39:00.000-07:00

http://www.livejournal.com/users/bats_eye/2460.html

What amazes me is that people think that this is a romantic comedy. If only you knew what I knew...

Well, If George Lucas can do it...

2005-06-05T23:52:00.000-07:00

I don't see why I cant.

I'm constructing a "prequil" to Anywhere but Here, using the scripts from the original 30 strips as a template for the "actual" introduction to the strip. This will NOT be a seperate series, nor will it be a "flashback" series.

Rather, it's going to be a very interesting implimenation...to be certain.

Try and keep this clear....

The very FIRST strip I actually published for this series was published on December 6th 2004.

However, very soon when you go into the archives, you'll see the first "intended" strip, the very begining...the "pilot" if you would...for the entire series, and that should have a publish date of June 1st, 2003.

See...when I first came up with the idea of the strip, it was in 2001. (I even found some of my old templates for it, and the first title for it was "the end of the road".) I actually have the outline for the first 30 strips...all written around 2001/2002. Looking over my outlines for Anywhere but Here, and reading over the final story arc, I realize that is VERY FRIGGIN IMPORTANT to get these strips published to the web. When I first started "doing" this strip in December of 2004, I had no idea if people would like it or not. So I started in the middle of the story. Why? Becuase that was what was most interesting to ME as a creator. I didn't want to do the backstory becuase I already DID the backstory in my mind. I'm at a different place now then I was then. So I started where I felt most comfortable.

The problem is, the backstory REALLY REALLY needs to be told. So, I'm going to publish them, and I'm going to publish them to the keenspace site...starting with the date June 1st, 2003. And HOPE that I have the right start date, and have aproximatly the right starting TIME. Fingers crossed.

So, the first strip that I ever DID will be the December 6th 2004 strip, but very soon when you hit "go to the first strip" you'll see "June 1st, 2003". Which means that the first strip in this epic story takes place 2 years ago...and you can, if you'ld like, read what's happening 2 years in the past, as well as what's happening "today".

In the realms of quantum physics, this is refered to "as a major head fuck".

Thank you Stephen Hawkings for coining such an eloquant term.

My suggestion...just read the daily's. And go through the archives as you feel the need to go through them.

This is why these strips need to be published:

The explain an awefull lot about what the hell "The Dude" is doing in North Dakota, why he's here, an awefull lot of character motivation that I understand, and actually explains an awefull lot concerning the entire, and I mean ENTIRE arc of this story. After going through my notes, a lot of what I have planned for the ending isn't going to have nearly the impact that it will if this isn't told.

I'm going to TRY and get that year and a half of backstory in by christmas of this year.

TRY is the operative word.

Because I'm ALSO going to be publishing the DAILY strip..well...daily.

So, if you do the math...

thats an ASSLOAD of strips to get in for christmas now isn't it.

To me the MOST important thing is to get the dailys out on time.

The second most important part is getting more of the back story out within the next year and a half. What I really want is to have someone in about a years time read the archives from start to finish and get the whole story, from the start to where we are at now. For my CURRENT readers, well, just think of it like this:

You caught a brand new television series half way through the second season. You're also able to check out the first season in syndication at the same time.

May god have mercy on my soul. This could get interesting.

Cheers.

-Jason

PS, to make things even shittier for myself, I'm going to mimic my "old shitty" style for those year and a half of strips. So as not to make it look like my art suddenly got terribly terribly shitty for a month during december of 2004. However if it does, those of you who were there from the begining can simply say "oh, he had syphilis for about a month. Man, did it show in his strips."

See, it all makes sense doesn't it?

What's in a Name?

2005-06-03T12:50:00.000-07:00

That's what I'm asking myself. See, people are starting to wonder about "our hero". Mostly they're asking "what's his friggin name."

I've said it before and I'll say it again, tune in to the fifth to last strip and you'll find out.

So the real question is, "what do we call this guy."

I'm pretty partial to "the dude" myself. It came to me by the way of a gentleman (I need to go into my e-mail to find his name because I cant bloody remember peoples names on my own) who wanted to use "the dude" in a cameo on a strip he was intending on publishing down the road.

And I LIKE "the dude." It's very...western. "The Man with No Name" meets the retro hippy culture of College. (Cues up "the good the bad and the ugly in his playlist." And it has the "Big Lobowski" referance to it as well. Since I'm an absolute SUCKER for Coen brothers flicks, that's a very good thing in my book.

But you know what, I'm NOT going to say "call him 'THE DUDE'". There's something about comics that I adore...well there are a LOT of things about comics that I adore, but what I LOVE is the need for the reader to "fill in the blanks".

There is MUCH in comics that requires the reader to process, interperate, and dig into. It's a shared experience, and to some part, while I like haveing complete control over the cannon, I also want to participate. Yes, I love being able to whip out a "NIGGA' what you smokin" and pimpslap some stupid idea down in favor of my own, much dumber idea. But I ALSO love that those who READ the strip contribute to it. They may not be dictating the overall story, but they add little details that make it grow, change, and seem more fleshed out. Moreso then I can do on my own.

So call him "the dude", call him "duke", call him "clint", "Boss", "Frodo", "Zipperneck", "Skippy", call him whatever you like. And eventually something will stick.

It's just a name, and the real fun won't begin till it all comes to an end anyway.

Cheers

-Jason

2005-06-02T22:40:00.000-07:00

For those of you whom I may have offended on my strips for the first and second of this month, I hope that this Friday makes up for it.

And I want to talk a little about my motivation for doing what I did.

The very first strip Chris ever appeared in is the strip for January 1st 2005. She's been a very tough character for me to get a feel for. VERY tough.

I'ld like to say that I had her planned out since the start of the series. Well the truth is she's been the intended love interest but that was about it.

There's a lot about Chris that fell into place as I was thinking about her. True, there are some gags that have been floating around in my mind ever since I started peicing the strip together back in 01, but to REALLY get a feel for her, who she is, what she's about, didn't happen untill last week.

Last week I began to realize that these characters have lives of their own. What I mean by that is they have their OWN voice, they act independant of what I'ld normaly think of them. They now move on their own sometimes.

Take this week for instance.

I originaly planned on the relationship between Chris and our unnamed hero to take place later this year, possibly next spring. But then came last Fridays strip, and that changed.

I cannot tell you how long I debated running that strip. Seriously I was going over things in my head for a few days before I finaly said "SCREW IT, just do it. There's NO reason why she'ld wait around any longer."

So, she didn't. I didn't, and now I have to deal with the ramifications of a major plot point being bumped up a year. I may have quite honestly changed this from a five year strip, to a four year strip without realizing it.

Ah well, the most important thing is the story.

and I hope it's a story that everyone is appriciating.

Anyway, enjoy the read.

-Jason

2005-05-31T16:49:00.000-07:00

Allright,

I'm sure I'll get some people wondering what the big deals with the warnings was for this weeks strips. Yes, I dropped 2 F-bombs. Whoopity friggin do right.

I look at it this way...

Anywhere But Here is a sitcom. If week in and week out you present something that people are familiar with, something that they are comfortable with. They call ma and pa over, and the next thing you know you've got a naked Jim Beluchi analy raping Rosanne Barr on a Bible, well you're going to shock people.

At LEAST give them the warning to NOT tune in.

I don't USE excessive language in the strip. It's not NECESSARY to tell this story. Not that I'm opposed to it, good lord I use it all the time, but that for ME it's uncessary for this strip.

This week has been an exception to that.

I don't know how many of you have ever created characters. It's a truely unique experience. These characters, especially Chris in particular, have begun to have a life of their own. To me, it would have COMPLETLY CHEATED HER to water down her language. I tried numerous ways to approach it, and I came to the same conclusion. This chick is pissed, and she's had enough. Anything LESS then that would be her holding back, and Chris, in this frame of mind, DOES NOT HOLD BACK on ANYTHING.

Now some of you may be saying "GOOD. Why not drop MORE F-Bombs. Make it MORE edgy, more "real".

Anywhere But Here doesn't need it.

And there are all sorts who read this strip. Young and old. I think part of why I like writing this strip is I can write a story where I don't have to resort to swearing to get my point across.

Good lord I sound like a fucking prude don't I.

Some people use swearing to bring "realism" or "edgyness" to their work. More power to them.

Me, it's not necessary. The STORY is what I hope brings people to this work. The JOKES, the characters, the situations. I want THAT to be what pulls people in far more then anything "EDGY" and "HIP".

So this is my solution. If I'm going to resort to language that move this from a PG-13 strip to an R strip, I'm going to warn people. This is NOT going to be consistantly an R or a PG strip. It will deal with some mature themes, it will contain mature language from time to time. But for the most part it's going to be a PG-13 strip.

For those times that it IS rated R, I'll put a warning up in advance so those who MAY be offended can take it in stride.

WOW, WOW!!!

2005-05-30T14:59:00.000-07:00

I've been reviewed.

http://tangents.keenspace.com/

A few of the more flattering things

The first thing I thought of when I read the comic was "Hey, that guy looks like he's out of Doonesbury!" closely followed by "I see we have another Bloom
County fanatic on our hands." And the delightful thing is, it feels remarkably
like something we would have seen in Bloom County. Only... better than much of
that comic.

That made my eyes pop out of my head. As did this...

The thing is, Breathed was good once. And Jason Siebels (who creates ABH) seems to have captured the genie in the bottle and released it into his comic. This thing is funny! It takes the elements that makes a comic funny and uses them... and does so in a comic that is deceptively a gag strip, but actually has an ongoing storyline that's interesting.

All before things got REALLY interesting with this weeks strips. Personaly I'm feeling strangely giddy and likewise I want to cry...so this is what recognition feels like. People LIKE it...they really LIKE it.

Monday, May 30th Is one of those days

2005-05-30T10:50:00.000-07:00

when you realize that your work is wearing the hell out of you. I finished up this weeks of strips last night, and I'm completly exhausted. Fridays strip feels so emotionaly draining to me that I was pretty worn out drawing the friggin thing.

Now, here are my thoughts.

I like the four pannel format. I like the limitations of keeping a very short gag strip. It's like...haiku. There's a pattern, a rhythm that I truely enjoy. But some times you need to switch into free verse to really do your work justice.

This weeks strips are definatly free verse. Friday's in particular.

Fridays strip is a weeks worth of art. Twenty pannels, and I'm very proud of what I was able to do in it. It just feels...right.

So You want to get inside my head...

2005-05-29T14:57:00.000-07:00

The reason I created this blog is because I can feel the strip pulling away from the simple Gag format that I created it under. Just as when I created the FORUM for a place for people to vent or praise the strip, I've created THIS as a place to understand a little more behind the thoughts that went into the strip.

And this past week I have a feeling that I'll have a lot of thoughts to defend.

Enjoy the ride

-Jason