Sittin' in the Starbucks, rockin' the Indian pop music.

Siegels triumphant! With everything else seemingly Superman-related this week (and for some reason, I'd just read The Escapists last week, which made me think about reading Kavalier & Clay a second time), half of Siegel & Shuster (or the descendents thereof) now co-owns Superman again. (Shit, I fucked up the tenses in there somewheres, but the sentence is too complicated to go back and fix it.) Neil Gaiman twigged to the most interesting idea, which is that technically, the Siegel family could negotiate Superman licensing with a company that isn't DC. Not that I am particularly advocating a Superman vs. The Sentry smackdown in the Marvelverse, but it opens the mind to the possibilities. I'm all for creators (or their great-grandkids) getting their share, but at some point Superman should just enter the public domain. Ain't nobody owning the copyright on Jesus, is there?

Meanwhile, Dr. Pepper will give a free can of pop to every person in America (except Slash) if Chinese Democracy actually gets released in 2008. Frankly, this just makes me want to see how they'd even manage it, were they called upon to do so. How do you pull off a day-and-date complete-citizenry mass distribution? Well, I guess it wouldn't have to be day-and-date. But not doing so might actually be even harder, logistics-wise.

(I think too much about logistics.)

I have read the entirety of Nextwave, and have pronounced it good, and cruelly short.

Yesterday was goddamned thick and satisfying. After the stock was done bubblin', me and Sarafina went to Little Italy in search of Italian music; then there were non-B-Boyz burritos at Burro Burritos, which are just sensational, by the way. Check 'em. Then there was gift shopping aplenty (they're really starting to like me at the Labyrinth, I'll tells ya), then there was dinner with Christy and the widest cost-to-noodle-bowl-size ratio ever, and then a completely directionless and in many ways amoral Mamo with Matty Price at Marché in the middle of the night. (Oh, if only "night" were spelled with an M.) Lots of stuff jammed into a day and with fresh air in the... er... air, finally enough stamina in me to actually allow for all the running around.

There was, as I'm sure you've heard, also Earth Hour, which meant flicking the switches on all the power bars at 8:00 and sitting in the living room at 3QF drinking curiously strong wine, with candles n' shit. I've been saying it since '03 and I'll repeat: screw this one-hour deal, let's have full dedicated blackout nights 3 times a year (when it's warm). We shouldn't need reminding about things like this.

Peaceable times to you all.

"Oh my god, in a minute and thirty seconds I'll be eating burrito." - Sarafina D.

(aaaaaaaaaaaaand I love that girl.)

Posted by tederick at 10:21 AM in 3QF & comix & foodin' & podcastery & the apocalypse
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I am making chicken stock and watching the one where Spock pretended to defect to the Romulan Empire. That's right, Stock n' Spock. It's a lazy Saturday afternoon at 3QF. I am also muxing. I didn't know I could do that, but apparently I am able to mux.

Remember the DVD Wave? Readers of the site from back in the day will recall that during the Bearshark era, Jason and I made excuses to get there once or twice a week. (Didn't suck, having our biggest client 3 blocks south of the place in Richmond Hill.) Well: the Wave is closing. Like, this weekend. They're having their final blowout everything-must-go sale at the Markham location... sorta wish I could get out there one last time. It was a terrific spot. Y'know what killed it? Pirated DVDs at Pacific Mall. Think about that the next time you buy a copy of Flawless where Demi is spelled with an a.

It really is a gorgeous Saturday. When the stock's done, I'm going shopping. It's springtime(ish), and lusty.

"Yes! I have a hundred of the Earth dollars!" - Dread Rorkannu, Lord of the Dank Dimension

Posted by tederick at 12:26 PM in foodin' & pirates & shinydisks
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I have such a crush on Stuart Immonen right now, it would almost be upsetting if it weren't making me so damn horny.

Today's pretty good. Midday blood test to ensure that I am still sane - oh, those ruby vials - so I'm working from home which = working at the Starbizzle. It's amazing how much more fun writing training plans can be when you're doing it pirate-stylie on the run from the law. Got a date with my best girl tonight; got my big project on the very doorstep of being done done done with finals pumping out of my computer right now; got a bunch of actual honest-to-god I-actually-get-paid-for-this-shit creative writing to do this afternoon... Shit, if there was ice cream I don't know what I'd do with myself right now. Yeah, it's pretty good.

One more and then I swear I'm gonna stop talking about this: X-Files poster. Y'know, I've had the teaser poster for the first flick on my wall for, literally, ten damn years. It's all faded and shit but I still really like it. Back when I was in university and I would get in a fight with my girlfriend, I would just stare at it. I was thinking this morning, next time I move, it's probably not going along. But I am damn fond of it, much more than the movie or even The X-Files. It just sorta ties the room together, y'know?

Right. I'm going to get so much done in the next 24 hours, it'll make your head spin.

"Girls have soft bits. Agents of H.A.T.E. shouldn't have soft bits." - General Dirk Anger, director of H.A.T.E.

Posted by tederick at 1:22 PM in blood & comix & j-o-b & movies
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[droooooooool]

Posted by tederick at 9:43 PM in comix & joss
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The fact that I used Chris as a client profile in a recent e.learning I wrote (in which he was an example of a client who really needed to subscribe to a wireless value brand), three weeks before Chris subscribed to a wireless value brand, is proof of my incredible prescience.

Even before I knew this, today was one of those days where I just felt like I'm pretty good at my job. After work, me and Alena had dessert treats and carved up our professional lives, and the exuberant back-and-forth was a pleasant reminder that if you get enough sugar in me, I am fucking passionate about the things that I do. Which, I guess, three months of griping aside, makes me one of the lucky ones. So, okay world, you got me. I shall buy you a cookie.

(And for me, a dollie!)

Gonna go out a bit, think about what needs doing in filmland, then watch Bonnie & Clyde and eat KD. Pretty good.

Posted by tederick at 7:46 PM in j-o-b
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...while you can....

Posted by tederick at 1:34 PM in movies & youtubery
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Since it is apparently impossible to get the third volume of Y: The Last Man in Toronto, I have temporarily jumped over to Ex Machina, which is also very good. It's slightly smarter than Y, and consequently slightly less entertaining, but it was what I needed yesterday, so that's good. Also finally got both Nextwave books, and the first volume of Fell. And yes, I bought the first issue of Echo because I am apparently powerless before shiny objects. I should be a raccoon.

Finally! Rob Ford is dealt with. Too bad it had to come by way of the shithead allegedly wailing on a woman, and too bad his constituents would probably see a guilty verdict as a strong platform for his next electoral run, but whatever. I'll be thinking of him when I'm slogging up the DVP on my bike on June 1, blocking all that über-important Sunday commuter traffic.

This morning on the subway I read the latest Daredevil and got so depressed I almost gave up on life... but holy cow, All-Star Superman is the solid shiznit and pulled me straight back. After a wobbly six or seven issues, this was probably the best one Morrison's done since the first, deft in both story construction and entertainment value, and just so goddamn ball-satisfyingly good. I actually gasped on the Siegel & Shuster reveal, even though I kinda twigged to where the thing was going from page 4.... There's no harm in swinging for the fences when you're doing definitive Supermythology. God, this thing made me feel good. About everything - y'know, like life and stuff. Plus, you gotta love the idea that 300 years from now, we'll all be talking in incomprehensible LOLcat gibberishspeak.

I will not be going to this, so the world is safe from my overused Jack Sparrow imitation for at least one more day. Plus, 52 movies... in a year this terrible, what the fuck would I even see?

Posted by tederick at 10:05 AM in blogTO & comix & movies
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Finally, I have a pirate belt to go with my pirate soul. (And heart.) I am now well within my means to actually wear something pirate-emblazoned every single day. Even for me, this feels like taking it too far. (And a trip to Bang On is more than enough to convince anyone that as a culture, we have taken this pirate thing too far.) Still, I'm stupidly happy, and enjoy walking around with my shirt off.

Hey guess what! Sarafina and I would like this. They call it the "cathartic knife holder." It's a silver dude that you stab each and every time you put a knife away. We don't actually have a house to put the knife holder in, it's true, but things like this must take priority over things like that.

I am booked for YVR for the 16th, flying home on the redeye (my first redeye!) on the 18th. I am booked into the lovely Sheraton Wall Centre again, which actually put a small quantity of drool on my desk this afternoon just from thinking about it. All other travel plans are summarily shitcanned, but I read the Napalm script again today so maybe I'll work on that. I am ready for March to be over. I have phantom limb pain where my giddy euphoria used to be.

Posted by tederick at 5:33 PM in hotels & jedi antics & pirates & tederick films
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While I'm getting everything back on its feet, here's Ian McKellen re: Gandalf re: Hobbit, and how beautiful is it to think of him reading the monologue out loud to give it a try? I can hear it in my head right now.

Posted by tederick at 10:59 AM in pj's playground
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Last night I dreamed I was in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Sarafina was there too and between us we kicked many asses. But it was hard to figure out which of the main characters I was supposed to be, and therefore what I was supposed to do on that bridge at the end.

Flying felt wonderful, though.

By now I'm sure you've heard of the Super Mario demonstration of the Many Worlds hypothesis; it's fun to watch and makes me want to play Super Mario World, which hasn't happened in a good long while. One of the problems that comes up in all this Many Worlds talk is that if every single particle is creating multiple parallel universes every time anything happens, the number of parallels is so large that it's actually inconceivable to the human brain. Which doesn't make the theory implausible, because what do infinite variants matter to a whole darned universe? But my recent experiences with simulation and game design have me wondering if the whole thing doesn't get solved by the endless iterations of existence collapsing back in on themselves to form single straight lines again. I mean, if you're standing on a rock crossing a river and there are two rocks equidistant ahead of you, and a third rock beyond that, you'll pick either rock A or rock B to get to rock C but you'll still always end up on rock C. That seems to happen to Mario repeatedly in the example above, and it certainly happens in all the simulated conversations I've been working on for the past 10 months. Sooner or later, inviable paths collapse into nothingness or reconnect to the main group. Timelines are like bison that way.

Meanwhile, what I really want to know is: how do the laws of causality work in the James Bond universe? I mean, even before Casino Royale things were goddamned weird, what with the guy traipsing through 40 years of adventures while always in his mid-30s. (I mean, there are continued and specific temporal references throughout. Bond always knows what year he's in.) Then there's the moment in On Her Majesty's Secret Service where Bond is aware that he is now being played by another actor; what inter-cosmology glancing action is this? And even if you can excuse all of these actions, how can Judi Dench be assigned to head of MI6 while Bond was already an agent there (in Goldeneye), and then already be head of MI6 when Bond becomes an agent there (in Casino Royale)???

I do not know. I do know that in normal timelines it's acceptable that a character could say "Chris I miss the Cold War" five films after intimating that she was glad the Cold War is over, but somehow in the Bondverse it just feels like a refutation of self. Perhaps M, too, has jumped onto rock B.

Posted by tederick at 10:12 PM in dreams & movies & wii
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Longtime readers of the site will be saddened to learn of the death of Big Fuckin' Hellboy, who passed quietly this afternoon in the company of family and friends. Big Fuckin' Hellboy lead a long and fruitful life even after a serious spinal injury in the summer of 2004, and will be missed by all who knew him. He is survived by his spouse, Big Fuckin' Hermione, and their two children, Big Fuckin' Megatron and Medium-Sized Fuckin' Hellboy.

Posted by tederick at 3:17 PM in toys!
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I think if I won the lottery I would give out random non-meaningful quantities of money to everyone. Like, one guy would get $63,257, and another guy would get $32,408. And a third guy would get $101,390. I would definitely give Mark $6.10, because I owe him for that one time. And then I would just split. I would leave the country and let everyone itch and scratch over the meaninglessness. It's called a life lesson, and I am an instructional designer (by trade).

Behold the triumphant return of Melaka Fray. Oh, I cannot wait. And I use those words significantly, because of all the comic faddisms that have come after the downfall of the three series, this is the only thing for which I can genuinely say "I cannot wait."

Meanwhile, Sarafina's been amblin' through Firefly, giving me the opportunity to peek in on the series for the first time in a while. Comfortingness, thy name is Ron Glass. Still, I don't care what anyone says: I hate "Jaynestown." It's lazy storytelling.

Speaking of lazy storytelling, this morning we were playing "guess the country lyric," where you try to figure out what the dopey country singer on the radio is going to rhyme to whatever is in the first part of each line of a song, like how if he sings "looker" the next line will almost certainly end with "hooker." It turns out I'm relatively good at it, which I presume means I would be an extraordinarily bad songwriter, since my skills all seem to involve knowing exactly what cheap hacks did before, rather than coming up with nifty inventions that contain any measure of ingenuity. Also: I can't dance.

Christ, I wish I had tomorrow off. (Which would be me actually addressing the proper demigod for my complaint in this instance, so there you go.)

This afternoon I was leaving Brantford I was called upon to shout "Jann Arden needs to be gone!" at my radio. I meant the horribleness of her music that was spilling out of the car speakers, but then realized that I actually meant something quite larger.

I'm gonna go lie on my bedroom floor and try not to break anything.

Posted by tederick at 1:56 PM in comix & joss & miscellaneous crap
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Merry Kissmas! It's the first day of spring. Kiss someone you like. Kiss 'em because it's sunny out (even if it's not where you are), kiss 'em because evening walks are now in striking distance (even if it's still too particularly cold in Toronto this year to make them feasible). Kiss 'em because a good smoochies are like six bottles of champagne and a pet mouse.

Doooooo ittttttttt. (The kissing. Any follow-up sex is entirely your affair.)

I am sitting in the Starbizzle near my parents' house, stealing wi-fi from yet another unprotected linksys in this whole silly world full of 'em. I have started reading Y: The Last Man. I have been waiting a long, loooooong time for this. I wanted to wait until the series was actually done before I started gobbling up the TPBs, and so I did. (Next: actually watching Battlestar. Yes, I know.) I've been spending more than a little time with the Other Brian (Bendis) of late; it's time to get back to my BKV, because ultimately, Vaughan is a bit more like the Brian I'd like to be (were I a Brian). Balder than I'd like to be, sure; but a Brian nonetheless. Plus: he wrote last night's Lost. And let the clapping start here.

The thing that makes Michael (on Lost) such an interesting character is that at this point, he is such a completely, utterly fucked human. He is a tragic figure of epic proportion; there is no getting out of this. (And I don't just mean that in the old, mouldy "the island won't let you die!" sense.) There is no blaze of glory fiery enough to redeem the haunted wretch we call Michael Dawson. So as such, it's good to have him back and have BKV writing him. The styles mesh.

As for me, I did a quick self-assess last night and realized that really, every single aspect of my life is good, and yet I feel generally blah lately - and that blah is because I am doing absolutely nothing creative, at all. Nothing to write, nothing to shoot. (Well, one expensive complicated thing, but I am thus daunted.) I know I call it back a lot, but I really do miss the days when Mark and I could crank out six or eight movies in a calendar year. I would love a really good, short idea for a really good, short movie. Something fun and summery that I could shoot on a weekend. That'd hit the spot.

Anyways. Return to your smoochies; remember to kiss plentifully and with joy in your heart. Comics are calling me now, and the girl'll be calling me soon.

Posted by tederick at 3:28 PM in 4-8-15-16-23-42 & comix & sex (practical) & tederick films
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After yesterday's minor emotional spazgasm, I am in serious sort-and-destroy mode this morning. Logistics! Got some travel to figure out for April, some more to figure out for June, and even more for the big TBD. And got a car for this weekend in case we want to go toolin' around. Plus, I booked my Heart and Stroke ride (going for the 75 k this year), scheduled a blood test, and updated my passport. I am all about online forms right now. All I gotta do is get the soccer team sorted, and we are all to the good.

And now I have a picture of Peter Parker in my cubicle that says: "You don't have to be Spider-Man anymore. It's your choice." And under that, it says "to be continued," which I think is always an important sentiment. I think I like having it pinned up to remind me of things that need reminding, but we'll see if it survives the next three weeks of utter choicelessness.

What's it called when your life gives you hiccups? (Not metaphorical hiccups.)

Posted by tederick at 11:38 AM in miscellaneous crap
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Well, not my best day ever. Nothing particularly bad happened. I'm just a bit overwhelmed with the same muddy grey residue that covers the whole city: fuck off, winter. We've had enough. Not having figured this year's vacation out yet is sort of doing my head in, a little bit. So now I'm sitting at home in my pajamas listening to porno music (it's excellent) and banging out journal and blog entries on my completely self-destructing 10-year-old PC. Molly the Macbook is with my ladyfriend tonight. Which makes me happy.

I'd like to take this opportunity to welcome Ceres and Eris to the solar system, since apparently Blythwood Public School never saw fucking fit to tell me they were out there. If I am to continue to call Pluto a planet (and I must!) then they, too, must be part of the gang. Sigh. Which goes where?

It's sort of amazing, isn't it? One day, Science can just wake up and say "nah, we're going a different way with this." What will they do when we realize that all of these cosmological bodies are just giant germs? I'm thinking a bit too much about biological entities in deep space, lately. I blame the bad dreams. I need to eat better, and learn to relax. And make more lists; they calm me.

Posted by tederick at 8:32 PM in dreams & miscellaneous crap
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I think I am going to start signing all of my emails with "I am not a lady." Not my personal emails mind you; my work emails. I think this will let me "go places."

I'm reading Ultimate Spider-Man vol. 17 yes SEVEN FRICKING TEEN, and it is the last one I will need to read to have actually gone through the entirety of the Bendis run to date on this thing. Believe me, if I'd known when I picked up vol. 1 waythehellbackintheday that I'd be into the late teens before I was done, I would not have started trying to back-fill at all. The current issues are just as good as the old issues. Still, in case I haven't made it clear, this is one hell of a comic book. This volume (Clone Saga) rocks, the Carnage arc was tremendous, and on the whole the entire deal just tickles me pink and makes me like Spider-Man. So that is, without being "cool" in the traditional sense, at least worthwhile.

As I think I've mentioned previously, I also rather enjoy The Prestige. This morning I amused myself once again by envisioning an alterna-version of The Prestige where the third act reveal is that there's actually a character named the Prestige, who has been manipulating the entire series of events from behind the scenes. In this morning's musings, the action of the film then shifted to the 22nd century where Batman and Wolverine fought each other to the death in magical robot suits. There's really no end to the potential imaginative real estate of The Prestige.

Anyways, I just found out that the 8-10 week ship time for those free blu-ray disks was woefully optimistic; I'm not expecting my gratis copy of shiny blu Prestige until around about the first of May. Motherfuckers win the format war, and suddenly we're all expendable! Dang. The good news (nay, best news ever) is that Batman Be Blu-Ray come July 8, in many different fancy packages. What I don't get is, why doesn't the blu-ray special edition come with the Batman flash drive that the regular-def special edition comes with? Them's monkey dealin's.

Anthony Minghella is dead? WTF? It's been a long time since I've seen The English Patient and I never saw Ripley, but the man wrote every single episode of The Storyteller and that makes him a god among insects. Bow!

Posted by tederick at 1:41 PM in batman! & comix & j-o-b & movies & shinybludisks & tv
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Joss Monkeypants Whedon to make Doctor Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog with Doogie Howser, Captain Tightpants and Vi the Vampire Slayer!

(Wait a minute... why isn't Captain Napalm a musical??)

Further to the last entry, maybe I should just get a t-shirt that says "I don't do stuff cuz Joss Whedon is better at it."

Other items!:

ITEM!: The dumbtards at Apple finally fixed the iPod "The"-title album sorting discrepancy.

ITEM!: This morning, I used the Force to find something extremely small that had been lost for a very long time.

ITEM!: My spring cleaning kicks your spring cleaning's ass.

Posted by tederick at 3:21 PM in i hate mac & jedi antics & joss
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You ever fall asleep watching Memento? Oh yeah? Don't. Don't ever. You know, like the horror movie. Just don't.

Today is a day for letting the air in. My 15-year-old self would have absolutely done his nut after a single glance at the trappings of my current lifestyle, even in the last 48 hours. (Trappings here embargoed due to Fight Club Rule #1.) I've been thinking about 15-year-old me a lot lately, mostly because he was so much better at making movies than me, and I am wanting to make another movie again soon, and I am therefore starting to fret about that. But he also had way more time (and hair) and was not bogged down by the omnipresent, cruel ability of the adult brain to pre-think the reasons why something is going to be X difficult and turn out Y not good enough, and then compare that against the availability of Z resources (time, money, energy, passion) and come up with minus Fuck It. And so, I read comic books (Mighty Avengers #10 is kickass, BTW), and they're playing the Blue Crush soundtrack at Starbucks while David Julyan's work is completely unavailable in iTunes and ThePirateBay.

There are back-alley movie theatres in this town where alternatives exist, but they're hard to get into.

In the meantime: when did I stop going to normal movies? People ask me all the time (and their presumption is reasonable, so I don't mind) what's good in theatres right now; my answer of late has been a big fat "I dunno." This came about in two ways: one, writing and podcasting for blogTO made me realize that while people have a compulsive need for film critics, they rarely actually want opinions; and two, movies sorta suck. Perhaps I Am Legend is a poor example, but it seems relatively useful: it's exactly the reason movies suck now. It's well-made for what it is and could not be more impeccable from a modern Hollywood craft perspective, and in its own narrow way it's even risky in terms of the ways it subverts the presumed requirements of a brainless Hollywood marketing movie these days. And. It. Sucks. I think Cloverfield has elements of clinical importance to it, but I don't think that it's good; the primary reason I think Juno is wonderful is that Little Miss Sunshine is an exercise in modern American masturbation, and Juno's just a better wanker, that's all. I have difficulty believing that any of the movies I really want to see this year (with the exception of The Dark Knight) could actually be really good. I mean, I'm sure many of them will be fine. But not really good.

I should shut up soon.

I have six or seven things sitting on the tips of my brain that might form the basis of the next 18 months of creative work among me and mine; I might sit on and stifle them like I have for the past 18 months. I have plenty of good reasons - I mean really fucking good, go-fuck-yourself-15-year-old-me reasons - to stay the course and keep doing what I'm doing now, and hang all the stories and the pictures and the editing programs and VCRs. I have one good reason to not, though, and it's starting to smell like fresh air.

Posted by tederick at 11:39 AM in movies
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The telepods went into the mall yesterday; I wanted to drive one around the outer atmosphere and then dock at the Enterprise, but oh well. At least the secret's out. At around 5:30 p.m. last night I bought a lottery ticket, some nuts, and a cigarette lighter. I really am quite lucky, and I know that. For every single thing in my life that pisses me off, there are five things that make me feel wonderful, and another five things that make my whole world feel like a big dumb playground of surreal adventure. It's a mental game, this, but it keeps me happy.

Let's talk about spoilers! I haven't watched Lost yet, so don't talk to me about it. I did, however, ready Uncanny X-Men this week, wherein the person who ain't gonna come back from the Breakworld was rather unceremoniously revealed to me. It was not the best way to find out. But I once again blame Joss Whedon. The rest of the world doesn't stop just cuz the Whed-o-god is playing with his dollies.

I need some coffee, and music, and snuggle time. And a day or two off, with some fancy shopping, would not go amiss. It's a whole new ballgame come Monday.

Posted by tederick at 9:28 AM in comix & j-o-b & jedi antics & joss
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It's official...

Posted by tederick at 8:12 PM in h-pot
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There are days when only Sam will do.

I was going to write something about how much the Sprockets catalogue sucks this year, but rather than reinvent the wheel I shall pillage from a recent email I sent, which sums up the situation rather nicely: "There isn't a single film I want to see. Suck it, Tiffgroup! If I see one more film description about a shy-yet-artistic 11-year-old Danish girl coming out of her shell by joining the school soccer team where she makes an uneasy friendship with the tough girl in her class, I'm gonna vomit."

After a slow cooling-off period of the past few months, I have finally given up the ghost on being a writer for blogTO. I joined the blog in August '05 to do the movie podcast and write some film reviews; in the time since, I've had a great time picking on the TTC and bringing some awareness to comic events and stores in the city that weren't otherwise getting much airtime. Plus, I got to write a sex column for a while. Lately, though, the intersection between my interests and the needs of the blog just seemed to be coming to an end. So I've finally spun myself out of the mill, and have switched to "avid reader" status. Being involved in this thing from its (almost) beginning was one of the most enjoyable parts of my life over the past few years, and I'm still sort of amazed (and proud) of what it's become.

It's also nice to see that others are continuing my various works, and doing it tremendously.

Right: so, Serenity Better Days #1 tonight, and I'm also back-filling the key tract of 30-ish issues of G.I.Joe that I read when I was a kid. I'm missing four. Kids, don't throw anything out. You might want it later.

At dinner last night, young Maxwell asked me if I'd ever kissed a girl.

Posted by tederick at 11:17 AM in blogTO & comix & movies & toys!
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Last night I dreamed about vampires and the Joker. Gotham stinks in the summertime; it was built over a swamp. I could never see the Heath-Joker's face; he was always walking away from me doing card tricks in his right hand, but I could tell it was him because I was just so excited by the outfit. Also, because of all the murders. The vampires hung out on the edge of the bayou, visible only by their glowing eyes, watching the Heath-Joker circle the empty hallways of Wayne Manor, looking for Alfred. I/Bruce was not at home.

Winter is displeasingly intangible. A few weeks ago Sarafina and I had opportunity to hug in public without a thick layer of overcoats and sweaters between us; the flush of actual tangible contact was shocking simply because (we met in November) we'd never actually done that before. Everything in winter is several saran-wrap layers away from being something you can actually lay hands on; it takes ten minutes to put on enough gear to go for a walk, and when you walk, you can't feel the ground. In place of gooey sweat pouring down your skin you have the layer of heated air created by hair standing on end. Even indoors - there's so much gear everywhere right now, all over my desk, all around me. Heavy backpacks, heavy boots, heavy headphones. A month from now I'll be flyin'.

I think I should like to go travelling, sometime this spring.

Posted by tederick at 9:09 AM in batman! & dreams & poetical
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The other day I was called upon to steal something. For the sake of those who may be reading, let us say that this thing was a brick. The brick was sitting on a table in a room. I crept slowly into the room and took the brick, turned to leave, and clipped my boot on the table leg so hard that the ensuing BANG! could well have been heard on the other side of the Scarborough Town Centre. All eyes swung to me. I smiled, and then ran. This is because I am a bad pirate.

On the same day, I was called upon to steal something else. For the sake of those who may be reading, let us say that this thing was Daniel Cockburn. The room in which Daniel Cockburn resided was inhabited by two people who I do not know, but who were for the purposes of this tale supposed to be there, while I was in point of fact not. To make up for my aggregious brick error of earlier, I walked confidently into the room, threw Daniel Cockburn over my shoulder, told the two gentlemen guarding it/him that I was just there to collect my effects, and walked purposefully back out again. This is because I am a good pirate. Potentially, the best you've ever heard of.

Posted by tederick at 10:11 AM in pirates
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I just took my phone to the water cooler to fill it with water. I gotta get off this project I'm on, it's totally fucking me up. And it's not even 2:00 on Monday yet!

Oh the places I've been! The things I've done! It's like that book Bex gave me back in the day, only in reverse. I am anti-Seuss. Ever been crazy-carpeting in Christie Pit with cinammon whisky in the middle of the night? Cuz I have. And then (several hours later, no influenced-driving here) I drove to Brantford and back with the lovely ladies DiFelice. In the past four days I have defeated the Gatekeeper, returned triumphant to the Big Stretch (with a partner!), seen Good Hawskley Workman transform (live on stage!) into Evil Hawksley Workman, reshuffled my Obishelf yet again, had two consecutive coffee shop order screwups, crawled into my car through the back window, received a stupendously awesome bottle of rum, and had a son of a bitchin' terrific breakfast. The world quakes beneath my lightning-spittin' fingertips. (I mean literally: these lazy final days of winter have turned me into a walking electric charge. Arcs of power connect me to the walls of 3QF from distances of up to 15 inches.) And did anyone notice that I'm in last week's Powers? Bendis is good, Bendis is wise.

I need a vacation.

Posted by tederick at 1:55 PM in comix & j-o-b & jedi antics & the rum diaries
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"I wasn't aware we had an alarm for this, but yes, sound the alarm."
          - Xander Harris on lesbianism

Seen and heard in Buffy the Vampire Slayer #12:

• The sheer noobishness of Xander's approach to asking out girls proves that indeed, Chad was right about me
• Chad also seems to be correct vis à vis my feelings on inter-Slayer sexplay.
• Dark Horse has confirmed that the arc after this one will concern one Miss Melaka Fray, thus affording the new Buffisodes the opportunity to demonstrate once and for all that Battlestar Galactica, and even Whedon's own Firefly, are mere posers in the world of future-lingo
• Georges Jeanty outdoes himself here, not just due of his clear skill at drawing nude frolicsome Slayers... but on performance art and portrait fidelity in the faces alone, he's really come into his own in this second decalogue of issues. Even his Andrew has improved. Huzzah!
• I would call the Superman referencing contrived, but otherwise Drew Goddard is once again our God(dard). His knack for bedroom farce is excellent, and reaches its zenith in the timing and manner of Willow's return.
• Dracula sucks
• The media sucks more
• Excited, though not entirely drooling, over Serenity 2: Omitting Dramatic Tension Just So We Can Have Wash Back
• Matt wanna see Giant Dawn stomp puny Japanese!

Posted by tederick at 8:51 AM in comix & joss
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Holy fuck it's stunning out there. Absolutely stunning. Leaving the Land Rover in my driveway just now was like, "yeah, I may never see you again." Darkness is closing in, and more snow too, and nothing to be done about it. I've never seen a winter like this in my life. It was, fortunately, a day for mimosas and fine Mennonite meats, and also for yoga and cuddling, and tomorrow there's B-Fo and tonight there's a party, but right now, the whole world is holding its breath as the covers get pulled tight, and I want nothing more than to burrow deep down, nestle in with her, and whisper secrets in the face of oblivion.

Posted by tederick at 4:36 PM in the apocalypse
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My goal of not murdering anyone was substantially assisted just now by the consumption of a generous corned beef sandwich. Boy: blood sugar's a bitch, huh?

Last night I had what you'd call "thick sleep" - the sleep of total nonexistence. I guess I was tired. We stayed up very, very late with delicious wines and party games on Wednesday night for Sarafina's birthday, and while the overall reaction to my being able to guess Sarafina's "tofu" in charades will remain one of my favourite moments ever in the history of moments, yesterday morning was nonetheless a little rocky. I couldn't get the Gatekeeper's Eastern European shrieking out of my head, for one thing; I also couldn't eat solid foods or get entirely comfortable with the thickness of Jemaine Clement's lips. Still, this has been a big fat satisfying awesome of a week. And it's still going.

You know what else is still going? Insane-O-Winter '08, is what. Another big snowstorm for the next 36. There's been so much fucking snow in this town this year, they've run out of shovels. Who runs out of shovels? The same yolks who run out of Wal Mart snow pants, that's who. Poor planning, Canada!

Lost: I am confused about "island time." Aren't we within about 3 days (on the show) of the episode where Jack told Kate he loved her, and Charlie died? What happened in those three days wherein Claire seems pretty content and well-adjusted, and Jack's mackin' on blondie? I'm sure Daniel Faraday could explain this (with the aid of a rocket!), but I can't.

Buffy: Haven't been to the Snail in a while, and unfortunately I have now been liberally spoiled on this week's big reveal in issue #12. I'll try to actually read the issue in question shortly, after which point we should probably talk. In the meantime, I'll be in my bunk...

Posted by tederick at 1:00 PM in 4-8-15-16-23-42 & comix & foodin' & jedi antics & joss
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So much to say - particularly about the look of panic in the bearded man's eyes, and what a Jessica Fletcher cover of this song would be like - but we'll have to do it another time, I'm late.

Posted by tederick at 6:56 PM in youtubery
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The other day while gift shopping with Bex, I freaked right out when I noticed that the store I was in had a bin of Smurfs next to the front cash - just like the toy store at Bayview Village that my parents used to take me to when I was a kid, to buy Smurfs. Between Mark, Adam and myself, an entire agrarian/marine Smurf civilization grew up around Six Inch Lake behind my cottage when I was young; now, among the multitudes in front of me at this store, I found the conclusion of the entire affair: the Smurf Angel of Death.

There is something beautiful and perfect about there being a Smurf Angel of Death, and in my having purchased him, and in him staring at me right now, last scion of a smurf culture that has spanned my lifetime and is now, at last, at rest. Thank you, SmAOD. As is your way, you have brought closure.

Posted by tederick at 2:00 PM in ADAM & toys!
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Posted by tederick at 1:45 PM in miscellaneous crap
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Now listen up you bastards: through no fault of her own, e.becca inadvertently sent me ten text messages at 1:30 in the morning on Sunday night. Being that this was well past my bedtime I was fairly confused and didn't quite twig to "just turn the phone off" until about the eighth successive message alert had twilled me out of semi-consciousness. That was Sunday night.

Last night, the tardmongers (salesmen of tards!) who live downstairs from Sarafina did not shut up until 4 in the damn morning. Now, upside, it was an opportunity to spend some snuggle time with someone I really like. Downside, WHAT THE FUCKING HELL WITH THE NOISE AND HOLY FUCK.

I'm gonna give a clue here now: I don't want any more bullshit any time during the day. From anyone. That includes me. It's gonna be very hot; it's gonna be very uncomfortable for everybody. I don't want anybody yelling. We get anybody yelling around here any more today, and then the shit is gonna hit the fan.

Posted by tederick at 8:45 AM in miscellaneous crap
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"That elf is coming at you with a shovel." - Sarafina D.

It's gonna be a long night in the laundromat - this place is a fucking madhouse right now. I'm stealing WiFi from some dude named Jaco and waiting for a dryer to open up. I should have eaten before I came here. It's been a long day already; in fact, it's been a long month, and by month I mean February, and by February I mean "depressing." I have not been myself for the last little while - though I am nonetheless on cloud fucking nine about how certain bits of the past two weeks have gone. Did you know I can still get nervous on a date with the above-quoted elf-spotter? I didn't, till Friday. I'm not sure why that makes me happy, but it really does.

Speaking of eating, yesterday was Teen Girl Squad's one-year anniversary at 3QF. I bought them a box of salt to commemorate. They commemorated by playing thumping electronica while I was trying to watch Nicholas Roeg's Walkabout; a pretty decent film, and worth seeing. I spent all of yesterday doing some contract HTML work on my living room floor and watching Deep Space Nine, which is not a bad way to spend a Saturday if you have nothing else to do. The "I never sit down" feeling is subsiding; now it's turning into "I just want to go outside." What I could really do with right now is a nice long walk. Like from here to, say, the Ex. And then maybe up to Christie Pits. I wonder if my iPod (whose battery, like every other battery in every other electronic gadget I currently own, has gone to shit) would last that long.

Today while waiting for a table at the Bay/Bloor Starbizzle and contemplating the Manulife Shield which prevents all incoming and outgoing transmissions, I happened upon a ten-year-old blonde boy who was absolutely losing his shit; he couldn't find his father. I tried to help him out some, and when his father finally arrived, the man turned out to be a rather standoffish Brit who immediately started scolding his son for a) not being able to find him, b) losing his shit, and c) dressing his coffee wrong. I was relatively cheesed off after that so I went and made friends with a 3-year-old named Daniel, who (without prompting, mind you) confided in me that "Darth Vader is the scariest." It sort of made my day, along with realizing that I've been sort of muddled and anxious in my mind lately, but that it's all right, and not permanent. "All right and not permanent" actually describes most thing we get all knotted up about. I may have to make a little card I can carry around in my wallet.

Dryer's opened up, 6 minutes to go, and I'm done.

Posted by tederick at 8:41 PM in 3QF & i hate mac & jedi antics & miscellaneous crap & movies
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Apparently, I never posted Mamo 108: which is a shame, because I used to live there.

And then there's Mamo 109, recorded last night, in which case I get to at least utter the otherwise-unuseable words, "My name is Matthew Brown, and I approved this Jamomo."

It's almost like we're back on our game.

Posted by tederick at 5:39 PM in podcastery
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