Some of you may be old enough to remember the Super Friends. If not, it was an incredibly cheesy '70s kid show with your favorite DC characters.
Two of the characters, Zan and Jann, were teenage alien shapeshifters known as the Wonder Twins. How they became Super Friends is a mystery, as is why they hang out with a monkey named Gleep.
Jan, the girl, could change shape into most anything. Zan, the guy, could only take water-based forms.
Armed with that knowledge, you're ready to watch a Wonder Twin parady that is truly hysterical.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qdZ4JgGm2p4
Cheers,
-Jason
Thursday, November 29, 2007
A Hero Is Born
So, long story short, I have been rear-ended twice in the last three weeks. Both times I was not moving and was rammed by an SUV. I am fine, thanks for asking, but my truck has taken a beating.
This, however, is not a rant about SUVs and the people that drive them. Granted, my truck is a small (even smaller now, actually), but it is not invisible or anything.
Or is it?
My theory is that for some unexplained reason, possibly due to the copious amounts of fajitas, teriyaki, and kung-pao chicken I eat, I have acquired a super power. My truck, when I am in it and it is sitting completely still, becomes invisible to SUVs. I am not sure if I become invisible as well, but I would hazard a 'yes' to that (further testing is required).
This leads to two fundamental questions: how do I use this power for good and what will my super hero name be? Secondary questions would include: Can I make money from this and will this help me get dates?
So how can I use this power for good? Not sure, unless there is an evil SUV gang out there. I could stop my truck near their base/lair and do surveillance. Potentially, I could actually stop inside their base/lair and listen in on their conversations.
Evil SUV Gang Leader: “. . . and then once the guards are incapacitated, we will- wait, do you hear that?”
Evil SUV Grunt: “What?”
Evil SUV Gang Leader: “Music. It sounds like . . .Garbage ‘I’m Only Happy When It Rains’.”
Evil SUV Grunt: “Maybe it’s coming from that invisible pickup over there?”
Evil SUV Gang Leader: “You mean the one that smells like fajitas?”
Mental Note: I need to remember to turn off the radio when surveilling.
The second question is what will I call myself? Invisible-to-SUVs-When-Not-Moving-Man is accurate, but hard to say. Inviso-Truck might work. Ghost Driver is cool, but it doesn’t actually work when I’m moving. The SUV Watcher just make me sound like a nutjob.
I will figure it out eventually.
So remember, if you ever need an SUV covertly watched, call me, The Phantom Pickup!
Nah, that doesn’t work either. I’ll think about it whilst shopping for tights.
Cheers,
-Jason
This, however, is not a rant about SUVs and the people that drive them. Granted, my truck is a small (even smaller now, actually), but it is not invisible or anything.
Or is it?
My theory is that for some unexplained reason, possibly due to the copious amounts of fajitas, teriyaki, and kung-pao chicken I eat, I have acquired a super power. My truck, when I am in it and it is sitting completely still, becomes invisible to SUVs. I am not sure if I become invisible as well, but I would hazard a 'yes' to that (further testing is required).
This leads to two fundamental questions: how do I use this power for good and what will my super hero name be? Secondary questions would include: Can I make money from this and will this help me get dates?
So how can I use this power for good? Not sure, unless there is an evil SUV gang out there. I could stop my truck near their base/lair and do surveillance. Potentially, I could actually stop inside their base/lair and listen in on their conversations.
Evil SUV Gang Leader: “. . . and then once the guards are incapacitated, we will- wait, do you hear that?”
Evil SUV Grunt: “What?”
Evil SUV Gang Leader: “Music. It sounds like . . .Garbage ‘I’m Only Happy When It Rains’.”
Evil SUV Grunt: “Maybe it’s coming from that invisible pickup over there?”
Evil SUV Gang Leader: “You mean the one that smells like fajitas?”
Mental Note: I need to remember to turn off the radio when surveilling.
The second question is what will I call myself? Invisible-to-SUVs-When-Not-Moving-Man is accurate, but hard to say. Inviso-Truck might work. Ghost Driver is cool, but it doesn’t actually work when I’m moving. The SUV Watcher just make me sound like a nutjob.
I will figure it out eventually.
So remember, if you ever need an SUV covertly watched, call me, The Phantom Pickup!
Nah, that doesn’t work either. I’ll think about it whilst shopping for tights.
Cheers,
-Jason
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Freedom: $19.95: Part 2
So, yesterday I explained the basic economic problems of Hellgate. Now let’s see how it might play out.
“Oh my,” said the merchant. “You’re Dirk Squarejaw! You punched out the Demon of London! You spanked the Seven Succulent Succubi of Sussex! You defeated, gutted, and then barbequed with remains of the Rather Tasty Ox of Stratford-Upon-Avon!” The merchant saluted. “It is an honor and a privilege to serve you!”
Dirk returned the salute. “Just doin’ my job. Now then, we’re at the end-game. I’ve fought my way through thousands of demons and now we have a real shot at closing those Doors for good. In an hour, I’ll be leading five-hundred of our finest into desperate battle and we’ll need some supplies.”
“Absolutely!” The merchant gestured at the racks of goods behind him. “My store is yours!”
“Fantastic.” Dirk pulled out a piece of paper, unfolded it, and began to read. “We’ll need 50,000 rounds of 7.62mm, 2,000 grenades, 257 bullet-proof vests, 28 phased plasma pulse-lasers in the 40 watt range, 712 tuna-fish sandwiches, hold the pickles on 137 of those, 311 vibro-swords, 17 blow-up dolls, 1100 bottles of beer, a bottle-opener – wait, make it two bottle openers, and a Barbie lunchbox.”
“One moment,” the merchant ran his finger through his inventory sheet, his lips moving as he scanned the text. “I think we have everything in stock. It’ll take some doing, but we should be able to have everything ready in 40-minutes.”
“Perfect! You may very well have saved the world!”
“Wonderful. That’ll be $37,412 and we only take cash.” He gestured at the dead charge card reader. “Visa has been down for months now.”
Dirk stood there for a moment, staring at the merchant. “Umm . . . what?”
“$37,412. Well, technically, $37,412.28, but we won’t worry about the change.”
“You’re going to charge me?”
The merchant blinked. “Well, this is a store.”
Dirk leaned forward on the counter, getting very close to the merchant. “Perhaps you don’t understand the situation. If we don’t get those supplies, humanity ceases to exist.” He gestured around. “All of this, everyone, me, you, will be gone.”
The merchant leaned forward as well. “Perhaps you don’t understand basic economic principles? Supply and demand? Goods and services?”
“But what about humanity and the world?”
“What about my bottom line? Do you even have any money?”
Dirk reached into a pouch on his harness and pulled out a wad of cash. “I have, maybe, 50 bucks. And a coupon. “Buy a tuna-fish sandwich and get one for free.’”
The merchant plucked the coupon from Dirk’s hand and glanced at the fine print. “This coupon is expired.” He wadded it up and tossed it into the waste bin.
Dirk held up a hand, but only managed a few inarticulate grunts before his shoulders sagged and he turned away. “Start gathering rocks and sticks, boys,” he announced. “We’re going to do this old school.”
Cheers,
-Jason
“Oh my,” said the merchant. “You’re Dirk Squarejaw! You punched out the Demon of London! You spanked the Seven Succulent Succubi of Sussex! You defeated, gutted, and then barbequed with remains of the Rather Tasty Ox of Stratford-Upon-Avon!” The merchant saluted. “It is an honor and a privilege to serve you!”
Dirk returned the salute. “Just doin’ my job. Now then, we’re at the end-game. I’ve fought my way through thousands of demons and now we have a real shot at closing those Doors for good. In an hour, I’ll be leading five-hundred of our finest into desperate battle and we’ll need some supplies.”
“Absolutely!” The merchant gestured at the racks of goods behind him. “My store is yours!”
“Fantastic.” Dirk pulled out a piece of paper, unfolded it, and began to read. “We’ll need 50,000 rounds of 7.62mm, 2,000 grenades, 257 bullet-proof vests, 28 phased plasma pulse-lasers in the 40 watt range, 712 tuna-fish sandwiches, hold the pickles on 137 of those, 311 vibro-swords, 17 blow-up dolls, 1100 bottles of beer, a bottle-opener – wait, make it two bottle openers, and a Barbie lunchbox.”
“One moment,” the merchant ran his finger through his inventory sheet, his lips moving as he scanned the text. “I think we have everything in stock. It’ll take some doing, but we should be able to have everything ready in 40-minutes.”
“Perfect! You may very well have saved the world!”
“Wonderful. That’ll be $37,412 and we only take cash.” He gestured at the dead charge card reader. “Visa has been down for months now.”
Dirk stood there for a moment, staring at the merchant. “Umm . . . what?”
“$37,412. Well, technically, $37,412.28, but we won’t worry about the change.”
“You’re going to charge me?”
The merchant blinked. “Well, this is a store.”
Dirk leaned forward on the counter, getting very close to the merchant. “Perhaps you don’t understand the situation. If we don’t get those supplies, humanity ceases to exist.” He gestured around. “All of this, everyone, me, you, will be gone.”
The merchant leaned forward as well. “Perhaps you don’t understand basic economic principles? Supply and demand? Goods and services?”
“But what about humanity and the world?”
“What about my bottom line? Do you even have any money?”
Dirk reached into a pouch on his harness and pulled out a wad of cash. “I have, maybe, 50 bucks. And a coupon. “Buy a tuna-fish sandwich and get one for free.’”
The merchant plucked the coupon from Dirk’s hand and glanced at the fine print. “This coupon is expired.” He wadded it up and tossed it into the waste bin.
Dirk held up a hand, but only managed a few inarticulate grunts before his shoulders sagged and he turned away. “Start gathering rocks and sticks, boys,” he announced. “We’re going to do this old school.”
Cheers,
-Jason
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Freedom: $19.95: Part 1
I’ve been playing Hellgate: London lately. Overall, it’s okay. The cool stuff (fighting demons, lottsa loot, cool graphics) is balanced out by the bad stuff (performance issues, bad UI, broken single-player campaign) which gives it an over-all score of ‘meh.’
However, one aspect of the game that amuses me is the fact that you can buy and sell things from a merchant. This might not seem particularly noteworthy, as buying and selling stuff has long been a staple of RPGs, but consider that the plot of Hellgate goes like this:
The Doors of Hell have been opened and demons by the untold millions are streaming forth. Humanity is pretty much circling the toilet, fighting desperately to prevent that final flush. You, as the stereotypical hero, must fight off the demon hordes, defeat the Big Bad, close the Doors, and save the day. The fate of the world, as you are told rather frequently, hinges on you.
The local merchants, however, charge you for healing packs.
Yep, you collect money, both by picking it up and selling loot, and you can then BUY stuff from the merchant. You would think that they would be happy to give you what you needed, but no, all the merchants seem to have gone to the Ferengi School of Retail. Profit is apparently more important than the fate of humanity.
Tomorrow: Merchant: 1, Fate of Humanity: 0
However, one aspect of the game that amuses me is the fact that you can buy and sell things from a merchant. This might not seem particularly noteworthy, as buying and selling stuff has long been a staple of RPGs, but consider that the plot of Hellgate goes like this:
The Doors of Hell have been opened and demons by the untold millions are streaming forth. Humanity is pretty much circling the toilet, fighting desperately to prevent that final flush. You, as the stereotypical hero, must fight off the demon hordes, defeat the Big Bad, close the Doors, and save the day. The fate of the world, as you are told rather frequently, hinges on you.
The local merchants, however, charge you for healing packs.
Yep, you collect money, both by picking it up and selling loot, and you can then BUY stuff from the merchant. You would think that they would be happy to give you what you needed, but no, all the merchants seem to have gone to the Ferengi School of Retail. Profit is apparently more important than the fate of humanity.
Tomorrow: Merchant: 1, Fate of Humanity: 0
Monday, November 26, 2007
Site Redesign
Greetings and salutations,
Our site redesign has gone very well, with only a few minor problems to report. Thanks to everyone who let us know about the bugs they found.
However, if you originally linked to the comic via the comic page (as opposed to going through the front page), you will find that your link no longer works. This is because all the pages are now displayed on the front page.
So, if you haven't figured this out already, here is the correct link to reach the comic: http://www.wayfarersmoon.com/.
Tune in Tuesday for a new page and a new blog (hint: end-of-the-world discounts).
Cheers,
-Jason
Our site redesign has gone very well, with only a few minor problems to report. Thanks to everyone who let us know about the bugs they found.
However, if you originally linked to the comic via the comic page (as opposed to going through the front page), you will find that your link no longer works. This is because all the pages are now displayed on the front page.
So, if you haven't figured this out already, here is the correct link to reach the comic: http://www.wayfarersmoon.com/.
Tune in Tuesday for a new page and a new blog (hint: end-of-the-world discounts).
Cheers,
-Jason
Friday, November 23, 2007
Troops
An oldie, but a goodie for your weekend viewing pleasure.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CO3WRkVMF2M
Rumor has it that this was a completely fan-made production. Enjoy!
Cheers,
-Jason
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CO3WRkVMF2M
Rumor has it that this was a completely fan-made production. Enjoy!
Cheers,
-Jason
Thursday, November 22, 2007
The Problem with Thanksgiving: Part 3
Thanksgiving is also lacking any real personalities. Let’s face it: Pilgrims are rather dull. Aside from the odd hats and big collars, they’re not particularly memorable.
Halloween has Dracula, Jack Skellington, the Headless Horseman, Elvira, and a host of psychotic murderers. I’m pretty sure even a third-rate psycho could take out a whole village of Pilgrims without even needing to adjust his mask. It wouldn’t even be a fight. All the Pilgrims have are some muskets and the odd turkey. The psycho wouldn’t even need a machete. He’d just beat them to death with pumpkin pies.
Best Idea Ever: A horror-flick based in a Pilgrim village where the psychopath kills people with pumpkin pies. It could be called The Pieman.
Christmas, of course, has the biggest personality of them all. He’s so big, I even hesitate to mention him. After all, who doesn’t know the name Yukon Cornelius?
C’mon, you remember Yukon Cornelius? The prospector from Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer? He fought the Abominable Snowman and fell off the cliff? He was totally my hero when I was a kid.
Who am I kidding? He’s still my hero. The man fought an abominable snowman three times his size with a pick. He’s like a singing, prospecting Rambo. You don’t get much more heroic than that.
Compared to the other holidays, Thanksgiving is just . . . blah. It doesn’t have theme music (though Amariah did point me towards a close contender) nor does it have a recognizable face. It seems to be wholly unmarketable.
But maybe that’s for the best.
Halloween is all about parties, costumes, and candy. Christmas has been merchandised into a shopping extravaganza. These are not necessarily bad things.
Thanksgiving, the ugly stepchild of holidays, still seems to be about spending time with family and friends. I’m pretty sure this is a good thing.
Cheers,
-Jason
Halloween has Dracula, Jack Skellington, the Headless Horseman, Elvira, and a host of psychotic murderers. I’m pretty sure even a third-rate psycho could take out a whole village of Pilgrims without even needing to adjust his mask. It wouldn’t even be a fight. All the Pilgrims have are some muskets and the odd turkey. The psycho wouldn’t even need a machete. He’d just beat them to death with pumpkin pies.
Best Idea Ever: A horror-flick based in a Pilgrim village where the psychopath kills people with pumpkin pies. It could be called The Pieman.
Christmas, of course, has the biggest personality of them all. He’s so big, I even hesitate to mention him. After all, who doesn’t know the name Yukon Cornelius?
C’mon, you remember Yukon Cornelius? The prospector from Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer? He fought the Abominable Snowman and fell off the cliff? He was totally my hero when I was a kid.
Who am I kidding? He’s still my hero. The man fought an abominable snowman three times his size with a pick. He’s like a singing, prospecting Rambo. You don’t get much more heroic than that.
Compared to the other holidays, Thanksgiving is just . . . blah. It doesn’t have theme music (though Amariah did point me towards a close contender) nor does it have a recognizable face. It seems to be wholly unmarketable.
But maybe that’s for the best.
Halloween is all about parties, costumes, and candy. Christmas has been merchandised into a shopping extravaganza. These are not necessarily bad things.
Thanksgiving, the ugly stepchild of holidays, still seems to be about spending time with family and friends. I’m pretty sure this is a good thing.
Cheers,
-Jason
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