Well, internet, Nine Sisters is going to be on hiatus until August 7. I’m hopping on a plane tomorrow, and will – gasp – likely not have much internet access at all until my triumphant return.
But never fear! Those ten days will fly by like dust in the wind, and then both Rud and I will be back to talk comics, rant about video games, and whatever the hell else we do here.
Stay classy.
This was going to be a post solely about the made-of-win Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog, the internet event of the summer, in which Mutant Enemy (yes, that Mutant Enemy) has brought forward a three-part musical extravaganza the likes of which the world has never seen. The free viewing is supposed to be down at midnight, but it’s 12:05 now, and it’s still kickin’, so go watch it while you can. It features some true hilarity and the best line I’ve ever heard Nathan Fillion utter on film.
But as you may have gathered, this post did not go as planned. No, this window lay open, half written, as my roomie and I discussed our love for Felicia Day. She is the leading lady of the musical in question, and we knew her well as Vi, our favorite of the Potential Slayers. I mentioned that I had heard she was a gamer, and on a lark, I opened up a new tab to see what I could find out about that.
I found this.
Felicia Day. Played a Slayer. Plays WoW. Plays Alliance, as far as I can tell. Hats off to you, ma’am. You are awesome, and should our paths ever cross, I shall buy you a drink to toast said awesomeness. Or you can just roll on my server and we’ll gank some keebs together. I actually like that plan better.
Edit: The free viewing is over, but for serious, get it on iTunes. You’ll be doing yourself a favor, as well as supporting some truly talented folks.
… but when I get back from vacation, I’ll still just be a stuck up drunk.
I’m off to the ancestral home of my people for a week, then off to the ancestral home of Becky’s other half’s people.
See you on the 7th of August!
I have just returned from a week-long trip through Wine Country with my mom (Napa Valley, Sonoma Valley, and Alexander Valley, for you non-California noobs), and I am thusly ruined for cheap wine forever. Yes, I spent eight days learning about fruit and barrels and how long to let a new bottle warm up, so now I too can tell you that your fermented grape juice smells like blackberry jam, is low in tannins, and is too oaky for my palette. I have just become more annoying by an increment of 5.
However, spitting out fancy wine into silver buckets is not all we did. We embarked on many explorations of culinary and outdoorsy varieties, resulting in a happy tummy and some rather unique tan lines. However, the perfect end to our sojourn – the chocolate and white pepper finish, if you will – came last night. Long story short, I said all the right things, and we got yanked out of the stand-by line two minutes before curtain to get primo orchestra section seats to, holy shit, Eddie Izzard. On my mom’s birthday, no less. Epic win. I have been quoting this man since the age of 17, and seeing him live from the best seats I’ve ever had at a show ever was mindblowingly awesome. His new tour is called Stripped, it’s fabulous, it’s the best thing he’s done since Dress To Kill, and if it is in your city, you must go see it.
That said, I am wretchedly behind in comics, and The Dark Knight has been out for two days without my having seen it, which is criminal. This all needs to be remedied and blogged about post-haste, as I am taking off again on Saturday. Never fear, internets, I shall be swift.
Tim Buckley of Ctrl+Alt+Del put up a strip that poses an interesting question.
I like the idea of Hell. I’ve said this to Becky at least a dozen times throughout our friendship, but I don’t think I’ve ever properly explained myself. If you read any literature – whether it be science fiction, fantasy, or folk tale – where a non-human observer comes to have a chat with a representative of our species, you will often hear one statement.
“You, as a species, are so enigmatic. On the one hand, you are comrades and brothers, laying down your lives and helping the weak and the broken through their misery. On the other, you not only beget that same misery, but you set up systems to perpetuate it. You offer grain and clean water with the left hand while holding a gun in the right.”
I saw The Dark Knight at the midnight showing. Nothing will be given away in my blurb review.
This is the kind of movie that I will show my sons when they are old enough. It’s a great film, despite being a summer blockbuster, and it deals with issues of Virtue, Manliness (in the “being an adult” sense, not the “having huge nutzlol” sense), and Responisbility.
Heath Ledger is fucking creepy as hell, but you knew that already from the trailers. He plays the Joker exactly as he should be played. It’s a real shame that they won’t be able to use the Joker again for many years, since this will be a hard act to follow.
Also, I’m glad to say that Frank Miller didn’t touch this movie. I like Frank Miller, but only a little at a time. The way I know that he didn’t have anything to do with this is twofold. 1: Rachel Dawes’ Brassiere was not a major character, and 2: nobody used the phrase “the God damned” as a descriptor of the hero.
And the last piece of candy was the trailer for Watchmen.
(You’ll have to search for the trailer to Terminator: Salvation on your own.)
Despite what Mike says, a shambling horror of an undead blog is better than no blog at all.
Also, God hates Mike and doesn’t want him to be happy. It gives me a sort of wicked glee to disturb him, so here’s a review of this week’s comics.
This week, we’ll be looking at GeNeXt, Nova, the Secret Invasion event, and Young X-Men.
It’s currently 3:50 am. I got home 20 minutes ago, and I need to decompress a bit before I can get to sleep.
One of my best friends called me this evening, saying, “Hey, bro. My buddy Bobby told me about this house party that’s going on. It’s an Apron theme. Everyone comes wearing an apron. Could be chill. Want to go?”
Two hours after I get there, I find out it’s being thrown by a bunch of people from a porn website. This makes a few things make more sense.
Here’s the perfect moment of the evening (note: I didn’t drink or smoke at this party).
I’m standing on a balcony. To my left, some girl with a paddle is spanking one of many guys who is wearing only an apron. Downstairs there’s a “massage room” (90% certain that it’s just a room for a bunch of guys at to go have sex with each other). To my right, a group of Germans is singing and passing around a huge glass boot, filled with Beer. Below the balcony, three people are probably having sex on the couch. I make the mistake of looking to my left again, and the girl is spanking the guy’s nutsack.
I didn’t believe that these parties happened in real life, until last night.
Zombies are my worst fear, ever. I truly dread feeling cold, clammy hands seizing me and dragging me backwards, because I know that within seconds broken and rotted teeth will sink into my neck and belly. Then I’ll die slowly of evisceration.
Now, I know that this isn’t probable, but apparently enough of zombie lore is rooted in science that – with enough help from modern research and technology – it might be possible.
