The Demonweasel Speaks

I hate when I wake up, stumble into the living room, put the coffee on, turn on the TV and SportsCenter isn’t even on. That blows.

It also blows that I couldn’t find this particular picture of Condolleeza Rice that was on the cover of the New York Times this past Tuesday or Wednesday. I was going to make a funny, but no, the internet failed me. Damn you, internets!

I had weird dreams last night. One involved an ex-girlfriend of mine sending me back a bunch of stuff, like weird, dementedly scrawled notebooks and stuff like that. Poigniant, yet crazy. Another was practically a story idea, which irritates me that I can’t remember it fully. That’s only once before, where I had a dream so vivid that I knew I had to do something creative with it at some point.

Of course, God only knows when that will be. Yes, I’ve been doing more work than I have before, but there is only so much that you can do. I’m working on fucking around with a couple of 16-page minicomic scripts that I had done before, as well as get down on electronic paper the one that I just roughed out. I like this system. It works for me, and not having it has been the one little obstacle to being more productive. I hate just sitting in front of the computer going “Okay, so what happens now?” Granted, a lot of ideas come up while you’re working, but I need to have a sort of blueprint, at least a general guide of where the thing is going, what’s on this page, what’s the pacing going to be like. Roughing stuff out the way I am laves room to focus on description and dialogue, things that suffer when you’re going “Okay, where exactly am I going with this?” I think it also keeps me from overwriting, and making sure that the story I want to write fits in the page structure I’ve defined for myself. 16 pages is perfect to produce into a little ashcan (half-sized comic) that can be printed B&W and given out at conventions or mailed to editors. Like a droid in an escape pod, it’s a writer’s only hope.

When I haven’t been pounding the pencil pavement, I’ve been downloading music. I haven’t really been excited about listening to anything lately, but the new Eminem album is out so I’ve gotta go get that, so in addition to DL’ing a couple of tracks from that (“Mosh,” “Just Loose It”), I got some Ludacris (“Move Bitch,” “Get Back”), Ciara (“One Two, Step”) some…*sigh* Destiny’s Child (“Baby Boy,” “Loose my Breath”) and even some…*bigger sigh* Gretchen Wilson (“Redneck Woman,” “Here for the Party”). Because, apparently, I’ll forgive shitty country music if it’s sung by a pretty girl.

Because I’m an idiot.

Other good things…”The Venture Brothers” is on every Monday-Wednesday night at midnight. Holy Damnit Christmas that show is funny. Good comics out this week, like “Space Ghost #1.” Yes, Space Ghost. Not “Host a Crappy Talk Show Space Ghost,” “Turn invisible and kick your ass Space Ghost.” The first issue is, of course, the “Secret Origin of Space Ghost,” wherein our hero, a cosmic policeman, is betrayed by his crooked brethren. Good, good stuff. Also in is “Spider-Man: India,” which is produced and distributed in India, taking the Spider-Man legend and setting it in modern India. It’s a different twist on the story, making it more mystical than scientific, and it looks to be great fun. Even better, you get the whole origin story in the first issue, which I think is an incredibly wise choice, given than a lot of folks may not have the patience for a six-part origin story where he doesn’t even get powers until part two or three and doesn’t get a costume until part six. Is it rushed? A little bit, but it’s a great idea and can’t wait to see where they go with it next.

Knick knack paddy whack, can’t afford a Cadillac, family in my heart, made my homies put their money back, still brushing plaque, still action-packed, and ideas? I keep ‘em flippin’ like acrobats, I remain…