Stupid Snow

Well, if you live in the northwest, you're probably under a foot or so of snow right now. I realize all of you from back east are snickering, as you routinely deal with six and eight feet of snow, not to mention rampaging hordes of Yeti, but it's a big deal for us.

I just want it to stop snowing for the Emerald City Comicon, which is only a week away. I don't even want sunny or warm, just no snow. I would even prefer zombies to snow, as I can't beat the snow to death with a baseball bat.

NOTE: I realize that zombies are already dead. I guess I would be making them redead. Deader? Non-ambulatory?

Anyway, regardless of where you live, have a safe weekend and watch out for the yetis.

Cheers,
-Jason

The Ghost of Processors Past: Part 2

Why would computers fear Leigh’s house? I don’t know. I doubt any man of flesh can truly understand the inner workings, the very thoughts of a computer.

NOTE: Actually, the engineers that made them probably have a pretty good idea. And some programmers. And that one guy at the Best Buy sounded like he knew what was going on. So yeah, plenty of people.

But let me posit this: what would a computer, a processor, fear?

The answer is simple: the vengeful spirit of a dead computer.

Imagine a computer pushed to the very limit. A computer forced to process something truly horrific, like a video of a drunk guy singing a Lady Gaga song and trying to dance. And what if that was all it did, hour after hour, day after day? That same video, on an endless loop, until it burned out.

Would that computer not go mad in a Poe, ‘hears a heart through the floorboards’ kind of way?

I think that’s what happened. Some poor computer was tortured to death by bad YouTube videos and died. And now, its ghost lingers in Leigh’s spare room. Other computers sense it, of course. The strong ones survive, but the weak ones . . . well, they don’t make it.

They are consumed by a tide of pure, binary fear.

Wow. That made no sense, but man it sounds good.

So, to sum up: Leigh has ongoing computer troubles. I hypothesized that his house is haunted by the spirit of an insane computer. Realistically, Leigh probably has just had a run of bad luck with hardware.

I like my explanation better, though.

Cheers,
-Jason

The Ghost of Processors Past: Part 1

As you may have noticed, there will be no updates this week as Leigh is experiencing technical difficulties. Actually, Leigh himself is not experiencing difficulties, it’s his computer. I honestly don’t know if Leigh is personally having technical difficulties. I’m not exactly sure what kind of technical difficulties he would have.

Actually, that made me think about it and now I’m weirded/grossed out. Yet another mental image I really didn’t want and yet will remember forever.

If only I could use this power for good.

So, back to Leigh’s computer. He bought some RAM and a new video card and now his computer is a partially melted, smoking heap. And that was before he even put them in.

I kid. He installed everything, but now it won’t boot. He’s mystified. I’m mystified. Our actual, computer-literate friends are mystified. Computer hardware professionals are mystified. The FBI, CIA, the French Foreign Legion, and the State Department have been notified. We’re still waiting for a response.

In all honesty, I’m not surprised. Leigh has fairly frequent hardware problems. Weird hardware problems, like the strange, warbling scream that occurred whenever he booted up his last computer.

It’s like computers just commit suicide when he brings them home. This has led me to one inescapable conclusion: computers fear his house.

Tomorrow: Part 2

Guess What?

The Emerald City Comicon is in two weeks!

We've been busily preparing for the show and we'll have some new things at the booth for those of you who've been by before. These new things include:

A new tablecloth
A new backdrop
An invisible dragon
A brother
The remains of a sandwich of uncertain origin

The brother isn't really new, he's just coming up to help out for the con. And never fear, the sandwich will be properly secured before the show starts, just in case.

Anyway, it's a three-day weekend (huzzah for Presidents), so have a safe and happy 72 hours.

Cheers,
-Jason

Blood in the Parking Lot

I was at work the other day, busily sawing a monitor in half with a spork. I’m not entirely sure why I was doing this, but seeing as how I was almost halfway done, I figured I should just finish. ‘If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing to a psychotic extreme’ as my dad used to say. And then he’d hit me with a fish.

NOTE: I have no idea where he got or even kept the fish. In fact, I have no idea what kind of fish it was or even if it was the same fish. Was it a magic fish? Was there some sort of blood-debt involved? Had my father saved a Fish Prince and his reward was to always have a fresh fish at hand? That would explain a few things, except for why the fish were wearing little hats.

So, as I was sawing, a few coworkers passed by and I distinctly heard the phrase ‘taking blood in the parking lot’ pass between them. I dropped my spork, having instantly arrived at the obvious conclusion: there were vampires outside and they were ambushing people and drinking their blood.

Seeing as it was 2 in the afternoon and sunny out, I probably should have really thought things through, but I was busily trying to find something I could turn into a stake. A modern office, if you’ve never noticed, is remarkably lacking in wood.

Oh, there’s plastic, metal, cloth, whatever ceiling tiles are made of, and an abundance of carpeting, plenty of coworkers (useful as distractions, sure), but not a lot of wood. There aren’t even any pencils.

At long last, I found a pair of slight-used take-out chopsticks and after securely taping them together, I was ready to purge our parking lot of the undead.

“If anybody asks,” I told my coworker. “I’ll be out front killing vampires.”

“Sure,” was his response. This is generally how he responds to everything I do.

Now armed, I went forth to do battle.

The first thing I noticed was that there was a large van parked right next to the entrance. It had ‘Puget Sound Blood Center’ in big letters on one side, but I assumed this was merely a ruse on the part of the vampires. I snuck up on the door, tested it, and steeled myself for a life-and-death struggle with some really good looking, but very pale people.

I yanked the door open and leapt in, chopsticks raised, only to find a short woman in a white coat with a clipboard.

“Hi,” she said. “Are you here for the 2:00?”

“No, I’m here to destroy you and your nefarious schemes!” is what I wanted to say, but instead, I said “What?”

“The 2:00 appointment to donate blood.”

“Ummm . . . no.”

“Oh. Well, we have an open spot anyway. Did you want to donate?”

“Not really. I’m afraid of needles. And fish in hats.”

“Are you sure? Donating blood is vitally important . . . “ She kept talking, but I was distracted by one of our artists sitting on a couch with a band aid on his arm, eating a cookie.

“Do I get a cookie?” I interrupted.

“Sure.”

“Sign me up.”

One form, two needles, a few tears, and about twenty minutes later, I was happily eating a lemon snickerdoodle. The techs were very nice and they laughed politely when I told them I had been planning on killing them both with a pair of slightly-used chopsticks.

Or it might have been a nervous chuckle. I’m not really sure.

Cheers,
-Jason

P.S. In all seriousness, if you can, donate blood. It helps a lot of people and they give you cookies afterwards.

Graphic Novel Panel This Saturday

Hey everyone!

This Saturday will be our Graphic Novel Panel with the Seattle Branch of the Graphic Artists Guild.

Featured guests include:
Peter Bagge
Phil Foglio
Mike Grell
Michael Oeming
and, of course, us.

Additionally, I can promise that there will be neither ninjas, clowns, mimes, or nutcrackers present. At great personal risk and expense, I brokered a deal with all four factions to ensure that the event would go off without any balloons, bloodshed, or cracked nuts.

Pretty much, I just bought them all spa gift certificates that were only valid this Saturday. I realize that this means there will be a lot of very relaxed ninjas, clowns, mines, and nutcrackers fighting on Sunday, but that is the price we must pay.

I honestly have no idea how I'm going to distract them for ECC.

So, come on by if you can. There will be a talk, a Q&A session, and a portfolio review as well. Sadly, I will not be contributing to the portfolio review, as I'll just keep saying 'wow, you can draw way better than I can' for every portfolio.

Have a safe weekend.

Cheers,
-Jason

Knots

A buddy of mine at work brought in a book of knots the other week. No, the book was not made of knots, rather it’s an instructional guide on how to make them. Knots, not books.

So during load times or any other period when nothing else is going on (meetings, many conversations, driving, etc), I’ve been practicing knot-making on a piece of cord that used to be the cinch on an old pair of sweatpants. So far, I’ve mastered the Alpine Loop, the Bowline, the Half-Crab, the Albatross Split, the Noose, the Klingon (both Plain and Fancy), and the Reticulating Hair.

Yes, I made some of those names up. No, I won’t tell you which ones.

NOTE: I actually already knew how to make a noose. Thing is, for the life of me I can’t remember where or how I learned it. It’s not terribly complicated knot and I remember making them when I was a ten-ish. I used to hang them from the ceiling to scare the other kids in the ward. The orderlies always got mad at me and sometimes the doctors would increase the dosage on my meds, but that never really stopped me. Good ol’ ward 12. The fun we used to have.

I’m actually starting to really enjoy the knot-making. They’re really just little puzzles. Once you figure out how the knot works, you can see how the loops connect and how you could (hypothetically speaking) use it to strangle a werewolf. Or just some random hairy person.

However, knot-making is a rather useless skill for me, as I rarely venture outside and the computer game industry is not one where you have to secure things with rope on a regular basis. It would be so much cooler if it did.

You’d be at your desk, busily typing away, and suddenly your boss would run into the area and yell ‘We’ve got worm sign! Batten down the monitors and grab your harpoons!”

We’d all leap to our feet (Metaphorically. Computer gaming types don’t generally move quickly) and secure our equipment with a series of intricate knots, then don our slickers and protective eyewear while singing a rousing sea-chanty. Something like ‘yo ho ho and a bottle of Dew!’

And then we’d saddle our trusty war-yaks and go throw harpoons at the giant worms that were trying to eat our mouse pads.

That would be so cool.

And yes, the doctor said I was fine and didn’t need my meds anymore. The fact that he woke up in a room full of nooses had nothing to do with it.

Cheers,
-Jason

Alert Message.

Many alert readers have let us know that they are getting a warning when visiting our site. This warning seems related specifically to one of our advertising boxes. We’ve been notified of the problem by people using Chrome, IE and Firefox, but the warning seems more common on Chrome.

We’ve let the advertiser know about the problem, and we’ll get it resolved as soon as we can.

Thanks!

Leigh Kellogg