Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Today I'd like to shout out the Batista fans that come to this site. What up! *fist bump*
I feel closer to you guys today because thanks to my new StatCounter device I now know that you make up about 90% of my traffic. If you're reading this right now, chances are you're a wrestling fan who was doing a random image search on "Batista", and you clicked through to this post purely by law of averages, not because you like what you saw. And evidently you're not sticking around, because that post gets ten hits a day and to date not one comment posted. So really I guess I don't feel that close to you after all. I don't know why I'm typing this. Excuse me, I'm going outside to play!
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
I've been working my way through Battlestar Galactica lately, and really liking it, but I've been slow to take it up as a sketch subject.
Could be because I spent the summer with blog burnout after those epic Lost posts. Or because the comic strip has been eating up too much of my time. Or it could just be that Jamie Bamber doesn't really inspire me to leap up and race to the drafting table to capture his fascinating range of two or three expressions.
In any event, this is the fighter pilot from Season 3 who escapes his Cylon captors and turns up with a boosted Raider and a dark secret from Adama's past. Awesome bone structure too.
Time: about an hour.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Irina Kobasic (pronounced ee-DEE-na, hence the nickname "Edie"), about a month shy of her fourth birthday, New York City, September 16, 2009.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Just a little facebook silliness. First Bunche put up a post about his horror of Japanese male self-pleasuring toys. Shortly thereafter Rick Parker declared it National "Draw Bunche at Lunch" Day. It was impossible to resist, really. Bunche has a fuller explanation here.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Saturday, September 12, 2009
All my life I've doodled little cartoons of funny things that happened around me. I generally whip them out in pencil or pen, on a post-it or cocktail napkin or whatever's handy, just to get a laugh out of whoever's standing there at the time. Half the time it's just for my own amusement, frankly, and once I've jotted a few lines that capture the idea, I put it down and foget all about it.
This strip is my first concerted effort to take those funny ideas and execute them in finished form. It works like this: my kids will do something funny, and at the first opportunity I'll doodle a strip that would look incomprehensible to anyone but me-- just little squiggles to indicate the key gestures, facial expressions, lines of dialogue. I might get a laugh out of it when I doodle it, or later when I'm flipping through my stack of "scripts" deciding which one to draw.
Which is good, because once I've started drawing it for real it will never ever seem funny to me ever again. Once I'm a little way in I have no idea what I ever found amusing in it, or what comic strips are for, or whether I should even be allowed to own and operate a pencil. It's only because I've made a commitment to the other members of Act-I-Vate that I can force myself not to tear it up, lest some unsuspecting web trawler stumbles across the thing and has their time wasted.
It makes me think a lot about what it must be like to be say, a Judd Apatow, someone who writes and directs comedy movies. Imagine spending several years of your life, utilizing millions of dollars and the talents of hundreds of people, fighting a million battles a day small and large, and then spending another eternity re-watching every second of it over and over in some editing bay. All just to express an idea that you thought was funny over a cup of coffee who-the-hell-can-remember when. It must feel like going insane. I don't know how anyone does it.
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
It's been a delirious week at the movies for me. For one thing, I actually got to go to the movies (babysitting grandparents rock). But even more amazing, I saw two films in a row that didn't insult my intelligence and piss on my atrophied cinephile heart. District 9 and Inglorious Basterds are the real deal, films that surprised and delighted me and made me remember why I ever liked movies to begin with.
Inglorious most strongly reminded me of True Romance, the main action being a series of conversations, some of which explode into violence, some that don't, but all fraught with the threat of it. As in the past, I think Tarantino gets unfairly labeled an ultra-violent director, where he mostly employs short bursts of extreme violence that we feel more intensely because we're so engaged with the characters. He does more than almost anyone to de-glorify violence in his refusal to present anything like "gunplay". By the time the first shot is fired it's already too late for everybody. The best hope for survival is to be verbally nimble enough that the guns never come out. If you're going to pull a gun in a Tarantino film, you better be willing to die, along with everyone else in the room, and far too quickly to so much as strike a cool pose.
I'm a believer in Tarantino again after this one. I might even go back and give Kill Bill another chance.