Webs Woven

It's not enough to write a book anymore... there's a whole lot of ancillary promotion that goes along with it, and much of that is online.

Which means I can link to it.

Neil Gaiman's upcoming Graveyard Book has a new website up. It's got an interview with Neil, some illustrations by Dave McKean, and certainly there's more to come.

I've also been spending time at Jeri-Smith Ready's website for WVMP, the radio station where her vampires deejay. Out of all the deejay playlists, I surprised myself by going to Regina's first -- the only one more unlikely would be Shane's 90s mix -- but I've also been enjoying Monroe's, and am looking foreward to giving Spencer's and Jim's a listen.

So. Two websites to check out. Some good music to listen to. What're you hanging around here for?

Rob
(Oh, hell, now I'm on Shane's... I've had a jones to hear Morphine's "Buena" for a week now, and there it is...)

No Neck Joe

Slept wrong last night. My neck has been killing me all day. I've got tilt, but not much rotate. I have to turn my entire body to see very far to either side. You should have seen me backing out of my parking spot tonight.

It reminded me of No Neck Joe, that lovable neckless kid who was constantly being teased by cruel bullies. I can't find any videos on YouTube (neither can the animator), but there's one on MetaTube. Hopefully this will explain to Kathy why I'll shout "No! Neck! Joe!" on odd occasions.




Poor little No Neck Joe.

Rob

Flat Interview

Over the course of three days, I watched Interview with Steve Buscemi (who also directed) and Sienna Miller. Buscemi plays Pierre, a reporter who'd rather be covering politics than interviewing Katya, a flavor-of-the-month starlet; Miller plays the starlet. Because of a coincidental car accident that makes the movie possible, Pierre winds up in Katya's apartment, and they have an evening of conversation in which each of them twists the truth a bit here and there.

I saw the "twist" ending -- something one character has assumed, and another is hiding -- from a mile away, so it lacked a certain amount of punch. And when all you've got are two characters in a room? You need punch.

Interview is based on a Theo van Gogh film, and there are apparently some differences in the ending. It's never bad--Miller and Buscemi both seem believable characters, if ultimately cyphers--but I was expecting more intensity. As it was, I stopped the movie twice before I finished it (which admittedly killed some of the momentum it would have built otherwise, but if it had enough momentum in the first place I'd never have turned it off).

Rob

Crank

An important announcement:

This.

Weather.

Is.

Crap.

Seriously—I stopped hibernating for this? Wake me when it's not March anymore.

(Consider this an open thread to gripe about this damp, chilly, gray. mood-altering weather that would make any self-respecting groundhog shit his pants and die.)

Rob

Okay, now they're trying to make me laugh

Here's the latest in a series of horrible covers for DC's Titans comic: Here, pretzel-loving Princess Koriand'r notices a few stray crumbs on the corner of Nightwing's mouth.


This cover is somewhat better than Joe Benitez's recent efforts, but ugh just the same. For Christ's sake, someone rob a bank or something. Anything to stop the kissing.

(Curious to what the inside of this book's like? Kevin Huxford documents the atrocities of issue 2. Not for the faint of heart or the sharp of vision.)

Rob

Caliente!

Top Shelf comics launched its Top Shelf 2.0 webcomics site today. Check out Chris Eliopolis's all-ages comic, The Bravest Niño. A tale of one little boy and the hottest peppers in the world. I'm in. (There's much more there, but this grabbed my attention first.)

Rob

My New Favorite Superhero Costume

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you The Most Excellent Superbat!


Yes, it's ugly as hell.

And I know it's ugly as hell. It's a ridiculous amalgamation of Superman's and Batman's costumes by a Japanese superhero. But look at that yellow.

In the margins of the Final Crisis Sketchbook, there's a note from artist J.G. Jones explaining that the shapes are the shapes used in the negative space in Superman's stylized "S" design. But it doesn't explicitly state why they're used.

He's Japanese. The S has no literal meaning for him. It's just a shape. The space around it are just shapes. And to those hero-worshipping kids (and perhaps much of the DCU's Japan), those are the shapes that symbolize Superman.

And as butt-ugly as it is, the solid thinking underpinning this costume impresses the hell out of me.

Rob

My Lucky Day

I bought an Ozomatli album from Amazon, and I was able to pull that annoying sticky tape from the edge completely off in one try! I will never get this lucky again.

Now to listen.

Rob

I'm an Idiot!

Here I thought it was the 14th, and I was late, as is my custom and my royal prerogative. But I was actually right on time, since today is, according to the Julian calendar, May 13.

Now I'm gonna bang my head against that calendar, and thank my lucky stars it's not a stone one like the Mayans used.

Rob

It's May 14th!

Which means it's the day I thought Jeri Smith-Ready's new novel, Wicked Game, was released. Yes, I could have checked her website and learned that it was coming on the 13th, but instead, I relied on my gut. Which tells me all sorts of things that do me no good, so I don't know why I pay it any attention at all. (Of course novels are released on Tuesdays, it said. Just like CDs and DVDs...)


Anyway, here's the skinny: I've read it, but only (so far) in a prior draft. So what I can tell you is that it's very good, but I have know way of knowing how good it is for real until I read the finished product. Until then, it's Schroedinger's book: One set of pages is pretty darn good, and the other is outrageously awesome. I'm guessing that once it's opened it'll be a lot closer to the second than the first (although, despite how awesome it may be, I doubt you will actually be outraged).

One thing that I know hasn't changed is the concept, and it's a great one: There's a radio station whose DJs are all vampires. Each one plays the music popular at the time he or she "died" -- they're culturally frozen in those time periods, creating some authentic late-night radio.

Problem is, it's not paying the bills, and a predatory cookie-cutter media conglomerate is going to buy the place for peanuts... which will kick the vamps to the curb, depriving them of the one thing that gives their lives focus. Enter Ciara, a recovering conwoman who decides to help the station market itself by hiding the vamps in plain sight. She uses the vampirism as a marketing angle (because who'd believe it?) and turns the station into WVMP: The Lifeblood of Rock 'n' Roll. (Seriously. I have a logo mug, and mugs don't lie.) And while the marketing starts to do its magic, some folks aren't happy about it...including a cadre of older, more ruthless vampires. And when vampires aren't happy about something, they don't send sternly worded letters to the local paper. They start ripping out throats.

Jeri's doing a ton of promotion for the book -- including lots of signings, blog interviews, and posting a cool-as-hell soundtrack to the book on her website. Go pick up a copy and give it a read. It's a good'n.

UPDATE: I meant to add this last night, but it was ridiculous o'clock and it slipped my mind: You can read Chapter 1 online, and can get up-to-date info and harrowing tales of travel on Jeri's blog.

UPDATE 2: I'm an idiot. And it only took me 17 hours to notice!

Rob

Count the Rings

Did you ever wonder how many things are younger than John McCain?


Just about all of them, it looks like.

Rob

Mama Jamma

One other thing about this weekend's Celtic Fair: I bumped into an old friend from my newspaper days. Diane's working for the Pottstown Mercury now, and is also blogging about her experiences as a mother on her blog The Mommy Diaries. And rather than wait 364 more days to direct you to her site, I thought I'd extend Mother's Day for another hour and do it now.

So happy Mother's Day to all the moms I know. Sorry I'm late. (I know at least one mom who isn't surprised by that.)

Rob

I take delight in the juice of the barley

So a few days ago my coworkers and I were in a self-styled "Irish" pub in New York, listening to standard-issue bar rock, when a song came over the speakers that I realized was the first legitimately Irish tune I'd heard in the place. I couldn't place the melody for a few days (It was modern instrumentation, made into pretty much just another rock song), but I finally realized it was the traditional tune "Whiskey in the Jar."

I've got a couple copies of the song in my collection; the one I've listened to most was recorded by Roger McGuinn and Tommy Makem. But here's a traditional version performed by the Dubliners.



Of course, that's not the first version I found online. That's this more modern version by Metallica, proving that the song still entertains. This version is much harder-driving, and I like it quite a bit. (The video is heavy-metal drunken-girl-party, complete with some pixelated toplessness and a slo-mo pillowfight for one scene. This might either enhance or detract from your viewing experience, but the song's worth a listen either way.)



Some of the lyrics have changed (the girl in the song is Jenny, traditionally -- but Metallica goes with Molly, and I think the Thin Lizzy arrangement they modeled their song on goes with Molly too), and in one instance, I like Metallica's (and Thin Lizzy's) quite a bit. The original ends with:

Now some men take delight in the drinking and the roving,
But others take delight in the gambling and the smoking.
But I take delight in the juice of the barley,
And courting pretty fair maids in the morning bright and early

Which is cool, and on-topic. But I can't help liking:

Now some men like the fishin', but some men like the fowlin'
Some men like to hear, to hear the cannonballs a-roarin'
But me, I like sleepin', `specially in my Molly's chamber
But here I am in prison, here I am with a ball and chain, yeah

(Huntin', fishin', fightin' and sleepin'? It's like I never left work.)

An aside: Years ago, we were at a friend's wedding reception--a dry one because it was held in the community area of a church. And yet, there was dancing, and in my experience dance floors rarely reach capacity without a little help from John Barleycorn. So, having brought a bottle with us (but not into the church), we would ever so often sneak out for a nip, singing, "whack for the daddy-o, there's whiskey in the car."



Anyway, whatever the lyrics, I'm impressed that the song still entertains so many different audiences.

Got another opportunity to hear it this weekend at the Phoenixville Celtic Street Fair with friends Jay & Nicole. (Jay took the picture of the pipers I've posted here.) The Bogside Rogues played a terrific, energetic version of it (their whole set was a lot of fun), and I got to drink some Smithwicks as well. Nothing wrong with that.

Rob

This Dog Loves Me

Seriously. He had my ear in his mouth at least a dozen times. He'd better love me.

And yet he doesn't call... Sharkey, where are ya, boy?

Rob
(Photo taken while listening to the Dirty Dozen Brass Band play a free concert in Lafayette Square in New Orleans two weeks ago. I really do have photos and stories and such...)

How is it I'm just finding out about this?

If this ridiculously bloody movie trailer featuring a girl with a machine-gun arm is not safe for work...

...you're working in the wrong place, baby.

Rob
(Thanks, Sims!)

Heads You Lose

Atrios posted today about the supposed political dangers of eliminating the penny -- and in his post, he mentions the "dreaded Big Penny lobby."


Atrios, it's not just a lobby, its an entire Batcave. And it's also got a mechanical T-Rex in it. (Don't worry; they fixed it.) So yeah, "dreaded" seems appropriate.

Rob

Dude, Where's My Weapons System?

Kathy & I saw Iron Man last night. It was outstanding. I don't know if I've ever seen a better super-hero movie. It didn't really even feel like a super-hero movie — it felt like an action movie. A really good action movie.

As most of you probably know, the main baddie, Obadiah Stane, is played by the one and only Jeff Bridges. And in one scene where Gwyneth Paltrow was downloading hidden files from his computer, sharp-eyed Kathy noticed a nifty easter egg. One of the files was labeled "J. Lebowski". (I was later able to confirm it here.)

Rob

Double-Secret

There's a Julia Roberts movie, Duplicity, filming outside our offices.


How 'bout that?

Rob

There Is a House In New Orleans

...that serves biegnets all night long.

Plus, catfish po-boys, smoked sausage po-boys with chili gravy, the ubiquitous cochon de lait, oysters, crawfish (piles of 'em!), muffuletta, Hubig's pies, Zapp's chips, and all that. Plus a week of slacking afterward. All of that has left me with a 6.6 pound gain.

I'd gulp, but that's what got me into this mess.

How big is 6.6 pounds?


It's big enough to turn this Toshiba video-game tester into Dark Helmet.

May the schwartz be with me.

Rob

Oil Can?

This video tribute to a dead robot made my day 100 percent brighter.

Oh, and since I'm linkin', I should really direct your attention to this awesome interview Ami posted.

Rob

Live from Jazzfest

AT&T has a live webcast of Jazzfest going on right now (and tomorrow). Right now, I'm watching the Zac Brown Band's closing song of their set. A couple of minutes ago they segued into a really nice version of Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic." Good stuff.

UPDATE: Ooh! Irma Thomas now! (Although I just realized this isn't actually live...she played last weekend. But she's singing "Ruler of My Heart," so who cares?)

Rob

Of course, of course.

Okay, so I haven't gotten around to moving the photos onto the computer yet. It won't happen tonight, either. So I might as well talk about something I don't have photos of -- for no good reason, actually, because they'd be something you'd want to see, and I might have even had my camera with me at the time. So, first things first: Ball dropped. Sorry.

Second thing: Miniature horses! On Bourbon Street!

We first saw them when we were coming back from a little grocery store with rum, vodka and the world's best candy, Lemonheads. Paul saw some guys in cowboy hats from afar, walking their dogs. Then we rounded a corner, and we realized the cowboys were actually walking small horses... one about waist high, the other about two thirds its size. They zipped around the corner on leashes and were gone. When we got back to the hotel, we told Beth about it (she hadn't been with us) and she thought we were putting her on.

That is, until we saw them again and had a lengthy conversation with their owners. I forget one of the horses' names (the male was named Rowdy), and never got the cowboys', but the story goes like this: Years ago, the guys were still in the grieving process when their dog died at three years old. Somehow, they stumbled across information about these small horse breeds, including one crucial fact: They live to be around 45 years old. Having just lost the Dude, I can see how a fact like that could seem like a lifeline. Still, they had no intention of getting one -- they were just interesting curiosities.

Until one of the cowboys brought a horse home with him without warning the other. And they fell in love with him. A few months ago, they got a second one.

The horses are easy to take care of -- the cowboys said they cost about $10 a month to feed (Purina Horse Chow), and they stay in the yard and on the first floor of their house. One has even learned to use the toilet (although not to flush). And a walk around the French Quarter (they're Quarter horses, see?) keeps their hooves sanded down.

Rowdy, the smaller of the two horses, was male... at times, obviously so. Really obviously. Like I-was-worried-he'd-drag-it-on-the-cement obviously. The cowboys said that Rowdy didn't recognize size as a romantic obstacle. He'd get a whiff of a full-size female police horse, and suddenly he'd be rearing up and ready to go. Just gimme a boost, man! I can do this!

The horses were really friendly animals, accepting pets from countless, sometimes nervous, strangers. Their masters were every bit as nice. Sure wish I had a photo to show you.

But if you don't believe me, believe Beth. She saw 'em too.

(Actually, judging from a comment on this Youtube video, the other horse's name is Autumn, and one of the cowboys' names is Scott.)

Rob

I'll have photos.

I'll have photos, and stories, great bands to talk about, and all that. But since we got back at 1 am, I wouldn't expect them until tomorrow if I were you.

But New Orleans was wonderful, and Jazzfest was soaking-wet, infant-eating* fun.

Rob

*Not really. But delicious just the same. And some of the best-tasting coleslaw found anywhere in the solar system.