Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Sarah Connor must die!

I've done a 180 on this show. I don’t know what happened, but I’m ready to take back everything nice I said at the start of season 2. This thing can’t get cancelled soon enough. Via iTunes, I’ve slogged my way trough the first half-dozen episodes of the second season and frankly, I’m amazed at how they managed to cram 15 minutes of story into six hours.

As an example: the season premiere introduced a T-1000 (the liquid-metal type of Terminator from T2) as a series regular. Six episodes later, I honestly don’t know if it has any special abilites apart from impersonating a urinal. I’m not even remotely kidding. If there’s anyone out there whom I somehow convinced to give this show a chance, I sincerely apologize.

Monday, December 29, 2008

Woah Black Betty, Bam-ba-lam

I don't actually have anything to say about the passing of pinup legend Bettie Page. It's pretty much an excuse to draw some tits. Okay, I admit that didn't quite cut it as a eulogy, but what am I, a priest? Let's just pretend I wrote something respectful and move on.

PRIMER (2004)

Think of what the word "scientist" usually means in the realm of movies. As often as not it's some cackling maniac in a lab coat, pissing in his pants and polishing his ultimate death ray. Now imagine a mad scientist movie that didn't feel like watching a movie at all--that feels like it could be happening right next door.

Our scientist character doesn't labor alone in some fortress, he works in an office park, maybe sidelines after hours in his garage. He doesn't mutter about how the establishment laughed at his brilliant theories, but he does sweat the fact that his engineering firm is likely going to put him out to pasture by age 40. He's not a megalomaniac, he's a bright guy with an ordinary level of vanity, an ordinary level of ethical blindness. He doesn't go around coldly stabbing his friends in the back to get what he wants, but he might experience a tragic failure to trust at a crucial moment. He's not out to conquer the world, he's someone who dreams of being a hero but looks in the mirror and sees an average schmuck. Then quite by accident he invents something that he could use to fix his life. And just like that he's on the road to hell.

First-timer Shane Carruth brought an engineer's merciless efficiency to writing and filming a sci-fi film for a mere $7000. His special effects amount to little more than some wonderfully believable technical dialogue. He refuses to spoon-feed you any exposition, he lets you listen in on scientists talking scientist stuff. The film starts out nearly impenetrable and only gets more so as events accelerate faster than the characters can understand them. But it's one of those films where the sense of disorientation it creates is part of the fun.

Sunday, December 28, 2008

The Chase

My daughter can chase me around the living room like this for hours on end. Just around and around and around. For maximum fun I have to stay about three feet ahead and act perpetually panicked. It's just as funny to her the 200th time around as it is the first. Eventually I have to call a halt because she will seriously never get tired of it.

Now before you think this is going to be some kind of tired Erma Bombeck horseshit about how my kid wears me out, and "where in the world do they get all the energy", it's not. For one thing, I don't believe for a second that a small child can actually "wear you out". The day a three year old can physically run me to the ground you may as well bury me there. Take a little kid and put them in any pick-up basketball game anywhere and see how long they last. I guarantee you that inside ten minutes they'll be either crying or taking a nap in mid-court.

So let's just put that one to rest right now: your kids don't tire you out because they have all this tremendous energy. They tire you out because they have all this energy for incredibly boring shit.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Powers Boothe

I'm loving this guy on season 6 of 24. I was always curious to check him out since the old Marvel days, when someone told me he was the model for Jim Lee's version of the Punisher. Take 20 years off and I can totally see it. He's one of those guys who could just flare his nostrils in your general direction and you'd say to yourself, oh shit, I must have fucked up this time.

Monday, December 15, 2008

Jay Leno

NBC took a giant stride into the future of prime time television this week.

The traditional TV networks are facing dwindling audience share and possible obsolescence. Their survival depends on throwing out the traditional models of programming and developing bold, fresh content that electrifies viewers and locks them in for a generation to come. Now more than ever, they need to focus on creative talent and innovation. To stay on top of a growing heap, they need to find and nurture the new Losts, the new Sopranos, the new Seinfelds. Jay Leno should be proud that in these exciting, uncertain times, the network of “Must-See TV” has tapped him as the man capable of taking the 10pm hour and delivering content that is definitely way, way cheaper to produce than any of those other shows.

It’s a bold statement, bringing Leno to prime time. And that statement is, “We give up.”

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Marisa Tomei

Lots of websites are probably running these hubba-hubba pics of Marisa Tomei from The Wrestler. Those other sites are just exploiting the prurient interest in seeing a famous woman naked. But this site? Art.

Tuesday, December 09, 2008

Caroline Kennedy

This face got overworked, and I think we're at a point where we're going to have to agree to disagree. It's so hard to caricature a woman without losing what makes her attractive. But the more you try to try to make it "right", you lose the creative expression of what your mind's eye is seeing. It's a high-wire act. Nothing to do but keep practicing.

Image from Leland.

Monday, December 08, 2008

Edie & Maggie

Irina (right) and her second cousin Maggie, playing with dollies at my Aunt Sue's house. Escanaba, MI 11/26/08.

Sunday, December 07, 2008


I stumbled across the most marvelous podcast the other day.

Somewhere in the woods of New Hampshire, an elderly gentleman named Sherwin Sleeves sits in a log cabin, murmuring ghost stories in a profoundly resonant, English-accented rumble. Sherwin himself may only be a story--or a ghost, of a kind. But after listening to his work you may find your notions of identity to be... temporarily more fluid.

Since joining the mp3 generation, I've never come across an audio download that held me so spellbound. You have to give Sherwin a little time to work his magic, but trust me, he delivers.

Saturday, December 06, 2008


A Victorian-inspired take on the Warren character from the '70's. (Or for you young bloods, make that Harris Comics from the '90's.)

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Joan Rivers at the Cutting Room

"You think you're getting a show?
You're getting the ramblings of an old lady."

For a couple of years I've been hearing comedians on talk radio rave about Joan Rivers' sets at a tiny midtown club called the Cutting Room. The other night curiosity got the best of me and we checked it out.

It's an irrisistable prospect: Here's the most sold-out, face-lifted, television-mediocrity, QVC-embarrassment, walking punchline in the world, and in her 70's she suddenly gets the standup bug again. And instead of taking it to Broadway to soak the same rubes who buy her jewelry, she does sets every week she's in town at a little performance space filled with locals who are going to make her work for it.

And work she does. She's on the attack from the word go. Her pop-culture references are mostly 20 years out of date, but who cares, it was as brutal as I'd been led to believe. She started with the California wildfires and just got darker from there, not neglecting to riff on 9/11, the Holocaust, or even her own no-talent daughter along the way.

The crowd eats it up, but a lady at our table did find the Anne Frank material a touch offensive. As Rivers would say, "Is she here?"

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Daniel Craig 3

Around the time of Casino Royale I read a fascinating little book called The Man Who Saved Britain, which I highly recommend to anyone interested in James Bond and/or the history of England. Not just an inquiry into who Ian Fleming was and what forces positioned him to create his astonishingly successful little spy novels; not just a howlingly funny memoir of the author's own fevered adolescent Bond obsession; but a comprehensive analysis of the cultural and historical context of post-WWII England that Bond fits into.

Put simply, 1950's England was in the grip of an existential crisis. Their long period of world dominance was coming to a swift, shocking end, their military might was exhausted and their economy was terrifyingly circling the drain. Sound familiar?

Simon Winder argues that Fleming's creation caught on because it created a persuasive alternate reality, a secret unseen world in which the British still dominated the course of world events, when in reality they increasingly found themselves without even a seat at the table. He further argues that Bond gave the British a vessel in which to keep their sense of national identity out of disgrace as they slogged through the tough times and eventually rebounded.

Reading this history of the fall of another recent world empire gave me a few gut-churning moments, I don't mind telling you. But it goes to show why the Bond of Casino and Quantum is the Bond for our time, aside from the brutality and the more contemporary subject matter. Like his post-9/11 American counterpart, Jack Bauer, he offers us a reassuring suggestion that there is something inherently worthwhile in the Western character; a courageous, resourceful spark that will somehow see us through in a world that no longer makes sense. It might be the purest bullshit, but it might be all we've got to go on right now.

Thursday, November 20, 2008


UPDATE: Being fairly new at blogging, it turns out that I have not mastered the art of taking negative comments in stride. It also turns out that when I unintentionally offend someone, I feel pretty guilty about it. I'm leaving this post up, but I wish to point out that it's not a statement of opinion, it's me summarizing something I read from a mainstream source. I further wish to point out that I am a guy who draws cartoons. I'm not a pundit with a specialty in contemporary Russian politics. That is all.

In keeping with the Bond theme: my wife looked up from her Vanity Fair the other day and said, "Did you know that Vladimir Putin rides around in a car with '007' on the license plate?" I said, "Doesn't he know that he's the guy who ends up shot at the end of the James Bond film?" After reading the article ("Dead Soul", October 2008, sorry can't find a link), I can believe both: that he's vain enough to fancy himself a dashing secret agent (as a child he already dreamt of joining the KGB), and is unreflective enough not to see the irony.

Putin was created as a Presidential candidate in 1999 by Yeltsin's embattled inner circle, who saw him as their ideal creature: a small bland bureaucrat, inoffensive enough to be sold to the public, with no accomplishments of his own, lacking the will or imagination to do anything but what they told him. They may have been right about him being undistinguished and small-minded. They soon found out how drastically wrong they were about everything else. Many of the very people who supported him for President-- and almost everyone who knew him and could tell much of anything about him--are now either working close to him, or dead, or living in exile. To this day he remains something of a blank slate. Nonetheless, the VF piece presents a fascinating picture of an accidental tyrant.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Marker study: couple on beach

No, not another James Bond post, just a study from a photo in preparation for a job.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Daniel Craig 2

One thing I appreciate about the new-jack Craig Bond is that the filmmakers seem to understand that the 'gadget' motif has exhausted itself. We live in a gadget world now, and our fascination with clever little doo-dads has been fed in no small part by the Bond films themselves. But we're now living in science fiction and it doesn't make you unique or special to be carrying around a spy cam, or enough computer power to command an army. In the 60's your iPhone would have made you a superhero, but today it makes you one of the sheep. 

In a consumer world focused more and more on comfort, security and luxury, what sets a man apart is the ability to disregard all that. What distinguishes Craig's Bond is simply his raw ability to mix it up. Sad to say, what's science fiction in today's world is that a man can actually be a man.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Daniel Craig 1

I dearly loved Casino Royale, so much so that it make me rethink my opinion of the rest of the series. I think I'm now willing to throw out the entire original Bond canon except for the first six. When I finally getting around to buying the DVDs, it'll be just the first five Connerys plus my previous favorite, On Her Majesty's Secret Service. I consider Diamonds are Forever to be a Roger Moore film.

I'm hearing extremely mixed things about Quantum of Solace, but as long as they haven't completely reverted to the old formula I'm probably going to like it. As long as it doesn't start off with Bond pretending to flirt with an aging Moneypenny, and end with a shootout in some big mad scientist lab with army guys and ninjas, and then ten seconds later he's somehow in a boat humping some girl over the end credits, as long as they don't do that I'll probably go home happy.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Get dressed, damn you!

This is what it looks like on pretty much any morning that my wife has to leave for work early.


On another topic entirely: I know it's the most typical, annoying thing in the world when someone tries to act like their kid is so talented and blah blah blah, so my apologies but I just can't hold myself back.

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

Election Day

9am-- Drop the kids off at preschool. The teachers in Irina's class tell me how they did a mock Presidential election yesterday. My daughter and her best pal ran on a platform of "more snacks". The winning ticket ran for more visits from community members like firemen (my wife maintains the teachers must have heavily influenced that win). Even though she lost, I'm proud of my little girl for the way she shamelessly pandered to the voters' basest instincts. I'll have to teach her about character assassination in time for 2012.

10am-- Settle in to work at my favorite wifi cafe. It's hard not to just hang on all day. I put on Howard Stern to take my mind off things, but he's talking election too. For some reason the old coot is angry that Obama carries a pocketful of good-luck charms, most infuriatingly a "monkey god". Monkey God? I find a picture, and sure enough, Hanuman. Hindu spirit of sacrifice and selfless service, defender of the poor and forgotten throughout Asia. I visited Hanuman temples all over North India, and I once contributed a Hanuman painting to a popular CD of yoga chanting. For some reason I've been getting emails lately from people who want to turn it into a tattoo. I realize I stopped believing in good omens at some point.

5pm-- We were hoping to go out to watch the results tonight, but our sitter was booked--one of her clients was once a Presidential primary candidate. So our "date" consists of voting, picking the kids up and taking them out for Mexican.

8pm-- The restaurant is deserted. Faith thinks that everyone's glued to their TV's. Or battening down the hatches? The first polls are closing and we spend the meal craning our necks to see the TV. I talk to a couple of older guys at the bar, extras right out of a Scorcese movie. They're enraged that CNN is still posting results state-by-state, because it tends to affect the vote in places that are still open. I can't tell for sure which side these guys are pulling for. Eventually they switch to a basketball game, then leave it on AMC. Sylvester Stallone in a tux-- Rocky II. Did they want to watch something where they're sure the black guy is going to lose?

9:30pm-- Home. It looks to be breaking the right way. I take the baby upstairs to walk her around on the roof, a surefire way to get her to sleep. Usually the white noise of the traffic does the trick, but immediately I notice that there's hardly any. Almost no one's out on the street.

10pm-- The kids went down without a fight. Some clients of mine in D.C. are trading emails with their colleagues in India, trying to pin down a location for an event in New Delhi. I suggest a couple of places I visited. How can anyone be thinking about work right now? I haven't thought much about that India trip post-2001. It was a magical time, it's nice to be reminded of it twice in one day.

10:30pm-- Obama has 202 electoral votes--it's looking good. We go up to the roof for a cautiously celebratory drink before the next round of polls come in. Still very little street traffic. The city holds its collective breath. Faith wonders if there'll be a sudden surge of noise. I don't think so--different networks call it at different times. It's not a Giants game.

10:55pm-- I'm wrong. I don't know what was just announced, but suddenly an enormous roar is building all over the city. Cars are honking their horns, we see fireworks across some rooftops. We forget all about CNN-- this is what we want to be watching. The cab drivers at the gas station are high-fiving each other. People are running through the streets chanting "Obama". We stand and watch the impromptu celebration from on high for another hour. This is the spot where I stood and watched the second tower collapse. Today, a good day to be in New York.

Monday, November 03, 2008


"For one shining moment, let's call a halt to our red-blue bickering and predicting. Rather than glancing back at our racist past or peering into our uncertain future, we'll allow ourselves a brief celebration of now. We'll be brave and reckless enough to be happily surprised by one undeniable change:

Against all sensible odds and reasoned predictions, untold numbers of Americans of every persuasion have opened their hearts, minds and souls to the possibility that a black man is the best choice to lead them. Whatever happens, an immeasurable amount of light has illuminated our darkness."

Sunday, November 02, 2008

Obama in 16:9

Considering that the line on Obama used to be that he "doesn't give any details", it's been gratifying to see him putting out serious policy proposals lately. Good or bad, you can't accuse him of not having a plan. In these last desperate days, with the McCain side flinging retarded talking points like so much monkey shit, Obama's very much assumed the role of the adult in the room.

Obama has displayed a clear-eyed willingness to be honest about the mess the country's in, and to ask more of us than to wave a flag or take another fucking trip to the mall. Personally, I'm willing to sign off on his tax plan even if I end up on the wrong end of it. If the broader economy keeps imploding it won't be long before there's nothing to tax anyway. The idea of a New Deal-style program, putting people to work rebuilding the infrastructure and converting the power grid, makes my little liberal heart do backflips.

Maybe it's all a bunch of happy horseshit he's selling, maybe the money just isn't there, burned up over the last five years in a faraway desert. But I'm willing to throw in with the guy who wants to see the United States excel again at something besides fear and messianic delusion.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008


As Barack Obama seems to be cruising to victory, it crossed my mind the other day that he is spectacularly positioned for what is referred to in the wrestling business as a "heel turn." I'm not trying to suggest that on day one he's going to smash Nancy Pelosi in the face with a folding chair. But from a storytelling standpoint, if you were going to have a character morph unexpectedly into a tyrannical despot, you'd be hard pressed to come up with a better setup than what seems to be developing.

There's an almost mystical sense of convergence between this man and this moment in history. He's a transformational figure without even doing anything. The mere fact of his skin color represents a tectonic shift in American society. There's not a few people who are already looking at the dude to be some kind of Messiah. He's looking to ride into office with a big majority, cruising a tidal wave of economic anxiety. The Democrats might pick up enough seats to not only crush the Republicans in any vote, but to prevent them from even blocking a vote. It would only add dramatic irony that he's following on a President who made jabs at seizing dictatorial power, but ultimately proved hapless at everything. 

I'm not speculating that something like this might happen, I'm just speaking as someone who likes to invent compelling storylines using the available components. I personally find it hilarious that the Republicans are spinning apocalyptic visions of a popular Democratic mandate. They ask us to imagine a nightmare scenario where a single party controls both the executive and legislative branches, its power unchecked, running roughshod over the constitution, remaking the country in its image, emptying the treasury in the service of its long-held obsessions and mad utopian fantasies, all the while funneling obscene amounts of cash to its friends and cronies. I mean come on. It's a compelling argument, but I can't see anything like that ever happening in reality. 

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

The Economic Crisis: Two Views

"Mr. Paulson argues that the approach [to the bailouts] combines pragmatism with an intense focus on moral hazard, or letting people pay for failure. 'I don't believe in raw capitalism without regulation. There's got to be a balance between market discipline, allowing people to take losses, and protecting the system,' he says."
The Economist, Sept. 20th 2008

"Why aren't we acting like those Wall Street guys are just out-of-their-minds addicts? I feel like the brother with the straight job, and you're a guy who hangs out at the track. I just wanna know this, of the 700 Billion we gotta chip in, how much is going to hookers?"
Ron Bennington

Get Your Bauer On

I've been catching up on some old 24 DVD's, and I thought it would be fun to do some sketches of Keifer Sutherland. Turns out it wasn't. I did a billion of these and I'm really frustrated with my efforts. I got so depressed about it I didn't post at all for several days. Finally I decided to just put up the least embarrassing ones so I could move on to something else. I'm doing this blog as a learning experience, so perhaps there is value in posting my failures as well as the stuff I'm okay with.

Random thought on watching Season 5 of 24: It seems that in the closing hours of the season they're starting to drop suggestions that Jack Bauer could permanently "go upriver" at some point. I don't know what happens in the next two seasons, but I think it would be fascinating if the dude started to really lose it. 

The character has always been about having to do the wrong thing for the right reasons, but we see him at least once do something really wrong for pure revenge. Jack Bauer's answer to everything is always to bend or break the rules and let the chips fall where they may, and he's invariably proven right. But it would be so easy for that tendency toward expediency, toward street justice, to become the dominant aspect of his personality. Particularly after all the shock and trauma he's put himself through over the years, his finer judgement could just start to go. We know all too well that the guy's never going to hang it up and retire to a quiet life in the suburbs, but it would be very interesting to explore the possibility that things could end really bad for him.

Monday, October 13, 2008


Studies for a character based on myself, for a project I'm working on. I suppose this expresses how I prefer to see myself: part worker drone, part mad scientist.

Wednesday, October 08, 2008

Ask me about Sarah Palin!

Say Hello to Senor Wences

I listened to the V.P. debate on radio, so I didn't get the benefit of the arsenal of winks, eye-batting, hair-flipping and whatever else was deployed on that stage. But it must have been really something to have distracted anyone from the horseshit that was coming out of her mouth. 

It's been interesting to watch this woman blazing her beautiful arc across the political landscape like a patronizing, brain-damaged comet, firing up the base from coast to coast. I can't help but be reminded of eight years ago when a lot of us looked at George W. Bush and thought, "well, there's a guy I wouldn't trust to park my car." Not to say I told you so, but I feel that at this point I've demonstrated a certain ability to read character. If anybody wanted to know, I'd be happy to tell them that my heightened sensors are flashing red reading "INSANE" and "WILLING TO DO OR SAY ANYTHING". (As a biological male, I'm proud to say that "somewhat doable" falls considerably farther down the list.)

Perhaps there should be some kind of volunteer corps made up of people who saw through Bush the first time around. I'd be more than willing to wear some kind of badge or sticker, so that anyone who's getting weak in the knees over the winking stuff can walk right up and know that I'm a friend, and I'm here to help.

A conversation.

Monday, October 06, 2008

Palin & McCain

Inspired by this post on Bob Cesca's blog.

Paul McCartney

Paul McCartney has a new album out with one of the guys from Killing Joke, and it actually sounds punk rock. 

It's always interesting to me how McCartney searches for a collaborator like an Elvis Costello, or anyone who can lend his work the edge that he used to rely on Lennon for. I heard a bit of his last album; most of the songs start promisingly and then instantly sound like he doesn't know where to go with it. The New Yorker ran a profile on McCartney last year, and the writer observes him seeming somewhat frustrated in the studio. He's got the means to hire the best session guys in the world, but he can't find a collaborator who can intuitively plug in to what he hears in his head.

His wealth aside, reading the New Yorker piece I felt bad for him. This guy who everyone knows seems so profoundly lonely. (It can't have helped that his ex-wife was on a scorched-earth campaign at the time.) He tries to be somewhat unpretentious, living and working right in London. He walks the streets with the self-preservation instinct of a military convoy in Fallujah, dodging the cell-phone cameras (and he has to wonder when it's going to be a Mark David Chapman reaching in a pocket). Everyone he meets wants a hunk of bacon off his back. Who could you really be friends with if that's your daily experience?

The loss of John Lennon hangs heavy over the whole piece.  He clings to the small comfort that the two of them had managed to renew their friendship a little while before the murder.

Thursday, October 02, 2008

Nick Cave

When I was first dating my wife I was intensely jealous of Nick Cave. 

I didn't know much about Cave besides that my slacker friends from the early 90's were all into him, and like with their enthusiasm for hard drugs I sort of regretted my inability to share in it. Faith used to love to work Nick Cave into any conversation she could, and she had a photo prominently displayed of Nick and Blixa Bargeld, smoking cigarettes and looking achingly cool in a way that no mortal boy could ever hope to live up to. When you're young and head-over-heels about a new chick, you're capable of viewing a 50¢ postcard as legitimate romantic competition, I guess.

Fast forward more than ten years, and I'm playing Mr. Mom this weekend so that Faith and a few other middle-aged housewives can spend it getting their punk rock on with Nick and... and whatever that is that he's let happen to the top part of his mouth.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

On the brink

I've been scared shitless for some time of being where we are right now. Basically since about five minutes after I realized that I had taken on more debt than I'd probably ever climb out of. 

I try to not pay attention to the chicken-little stuff, but now Warrren Buffet is talking that way. If we're really circling the drain, then I guess I do hope they nationalize the fuck out of the markets to cushion the fall. Then start getting people used to the idea of rationing and conservation, a la England when they wrapped up their empire and its related revenue streams post-WWII. Just start taking the pain in as humane a way as possible. The sooner everybody admits that this ponzi scheme couldn't last forever, the better off we'll all be.

At least I'm not still working for investment bankers.

Sunday, September 28, 2008

New Terminator Season!

"Sometimes they go bad. No one knows why."

PICTURED: In the season premiere, Cameron goes on a rampage due to a malfunctioning chip. OR IS IT?????

I'm such a nut for this show, and I'm thrilled that it's back on the air. Week after week, it respects--and expands upon--the world of the James Cameron films, while being mercifully short on the overt references and corny in-jokes that saddled T3.

They even outdo T2 in one sense: John Connor is played here by a kid who can deliver the requisite emo pout, minus the  douche chills. The rest of the cast is strong, but the real star is Summer Glau as Cameron, the alleged "good" Terminator. As she did in Firefly/Serenity, she gives a performance that walks a razor edge between confused innocent and unhinged monster.

Thursday, September 25, 2008


Pictured: Chris Dodd, Government Guy

I'm somewhat capable of understanding the arguments on both sides of this. I read the Economist occasionally, sometimes even facing the right way up. But I can't for the life of me figure out if this bailout is a good thing or not. Maybe it's just the least awful of the options in front of us.

All I know is that when I first heard people saying that we needed to bail out Wall Street, I somehow had the sensation that I was being sold a sports stadium. Do you realize what a disaster it'll be for our economy if Shelbyville gets the sports stadium instead of us? You want those three, possibly four net jobs going to Shelbyville?

How can you not get nervous when George Bush goes on TV and tells you that the solution to all the problems is yet another round of spending like a drunken fucking sailor. I do like how everyone seemed to be for it, and then Bush comes out in favor of it and suddenly everyone's skeptical of it. When you're George Bush in 2008, every day is opposite day.


Dude, there's not a space there, even for you. I understand you must be pretty excited about being one of the first Yanks to own one of those things, but that doesn't mean you just put it in the crosswalk. The rest of us can still see it. It's slightly smaller than a regular car, it's not Wonder Woman's invisible plane.