Geek For Hire and Blogger Corgi wrote this in response to my selection of The Best Web Comic:
I just found your post by random Googling (looking for something else) and as a fellow fan I'm delighted at your reaction to "Girl Genius". The comic was actually published up to issue 13 in "dead tree" format, starting in early 2001. They went to web in 2005 and backfilled the dates of the already-published pages as they loaded them on the website in order to conform with their server format.
It's actually a collaborative work between Phil and his wife Kaja. They spent about a decade plotting and planning before they started drawing and writing the actual issues (and now pages). This partnership was enriched by the series's current colorist, who has been with them roughly as long as the series has been web-publishes, Cheyenne Wright. The three of them have won the very first two Hugo Awards for Best Graphic Novel, 2008 and 2009.
It's still being published three times a week - they've never missed a day, although sometimes they're a little late for good reasons - and is at the very beginning of Volume 11 by now! All sorts of complications since you started reading it. I'd love to know if you've caught completely up by now.
I have to say: I'm still pretty far behind, but I do read it 1-2 times per week during my lunch break.The problem, and I say this without any coimpensation whatsoever, is that it's too addictive and when I start reading it at work, I might blow off a half-hour. So hearing it went to print is great.
Every year, as Thanksgiving rolls around, I begin to wonder anew: Is this the last time we'll celebrate Thanksgiving? Is this the year it finally dies?
My views on the future of Thanksgiving are well-known, of course, and are always becoming weller-known as people who are obviously readers of my blog reconvey my thoughts (without giving me any credit) and the latest of those People Who Obviously Read My Blog is Robin Meade, who hosts her news show on CNNHLNAFLCIOROFLMAO every morning.
The other day, Robin proved to people who love to watch news shows identified only by letters that she reads The Best Of Everything when, following a story by that one economic reporter who always looks a little angry, Robin said "Pretty soon we won't celebrate Thanksgiving at all anymore."
Which is what I've been saying all along. So while I'm glad to see that everyone continues to agree with me, thereby proving how right I always am, I'm also a little sad that when I'm eventually proven right on this one, we'll no longer celebrate Thanksgiving and I'll have to find a different holiday to serve as my excuse to make 12 pounds of homemade Chex mix.
And, the fact that Thanksgiving is as doomed as a person who relies on Arizona's government-run medical program makes me sad, too, each year when I do the Thanksgiving Whodathunkit?!, which has become sort of a deathwatch that itself is not unlike Arizona's government-run medical program.
But let's put aside those grim thoughts! Now is not the time for sadness, after all. Now is the time for celebration! For family togetherness! For the comforts of home and hearth and good food! For...um... football, I guess, featuring... um... the Detroit Lions and Dallas Cowboys, fortunately not playing each other this year (although, it might be interesting to see who would be worse in that game), and for... getting ready for holiday sales that, technically, started two-and-a-half months ago.
In short, now is the time for you to get your annual dose of the Thanksgiving Whodathunkit?!: The Three Best Things You Want To Know About Thanksgiving THIS Year. Here's a dose of stuff to talk about or do at the family gathering this year, filling the silence that falls on the group as you all collectively realize why you don't visit each other more than once a year:
1. You can take part in some trademarked "Thankssharing(TM)," thanks to "The Thanksgiving Game."
Why not, this year, combine two dying American traditions: Thanksgiving and board games? Thanks to the wonder of a company known as The Thanksgiving GameTM (seriously) you can play The Thanksgiving Game, in which, according to this actual quote from the game's Amazon page,
Players experience ThanksGiving, ThanksGuessing, and ThanksSharingTM
Note that apparently only ThanksSharingTM is trademarked, so you are free (apparently) to use ThanksGiving and ThanksGuessing in everyday conversation without fear of a lawsuit from anyone except J.K. Rowling, who by royal grant has the power to sue anyone anywhere for anything.
The actual game play was a little mysterious to me. While I was pretty sure it involved a good amount of ThanksPlaying (TM me, so take that, game-makers), I wasn't clear on what actually had to be done in this no doubt superpopular game. The Product Description didn't help much:
Liven up your Thanksgiving celebration - your family will love it. For players ages 7 to adult. 3 or more players. Message from the Game Creator: For many years, the Thanksgiving GameTM has been played by our family each year on Thanksgiving Day. Traditionally it is played around the table, between dinner and dessert. The game gives everyone an opportunity to express their gratitude to God and to each other. When friends and family gather to show their love and appreciation, everyone is a winner! However, we suggest that a prize be offered to the official winner, such as candy, a plant, or a new Christmas decoration. If you don't have a prize, you can offer something else, like the largest piece of pumpkin pie! Or add your own family tradition. The Thanksgiving GameTM is great for ANY time of the year, and we hope that it will bring you years of enjoyment and meaningful memories with family and friends!
So I've got to bring my own prize, on top of being with friends and family? And it's going to delay dessert? Not a good sell, ThanksPeople (TM). And I'm still not sure how it's played. But if you do play it, make sure at some point to say "Pretty sneaky, sis!" in admiration. Even if you don't have a sister.
You know what this made me wonder? Why isn't there a Thanksgivingopoly, in which players buy sets of meals and put plates on them instead of houses? You could have, instead of Boardwalk and Park Place, Turkey and Mashed Potatoes, and the cheap properties (Baltic and Mediterranean) could be "Green Bean Casserole" and "That mincemeat pie Aunt Suzanne brought."
It would be a perfect companion, after all, to Macy's Thanksgiving Parade-opoly which is, sadly, a real thing:
2. You can push your family members out a plane, and have it have something to do with otters.
Tired of hosting Thanksgiving and thinking maybe you'll make a crummy dinner to show why you shouldn't have to do all the work? Here's a better way to get out of next year's hosting duties, and by "better" I mean both "dangerous" and "for some reason making a reference to otters:" The $15 SuperOtter Jump skydive available all Thanksgiving Weekend in Orange, Virginia. For less money than I'll spend on boxes of Chex and Worcestershire sauce, you can hurl yourself out of a perfectly good plane and hope to land safely in Orange, VA, or at least close by. The company says that
Once you give thanks with your family & friends, come on out to Orange and jump your turkey feathers off!
But why wait until after dinner? If you really want to spice up that talk at the dinner table, imagine when every single person at your party says "This year, I'm thankful that at least my relief 'chute opened." And best of all, you don't just get to see what the holiday looks like from more than two miles up in the air: You also get to take part in what's billed as a:
Which sounds to me like throwing a bunch of gloppy white stuff onto people from 13,500 feet, which in turn sounds to me like totally awesome.
3. When all else fails, wrap your turkey in a blanket and throw it into a fire! Yum!
You'd think that since people only eat turkey once a year (not counting leftovers) that simply having a turkey would be novelty enough -- but you'd think wrong, because this is The Land Of Constant Novelty, where television shots last no more than 3 seconds and a story longer than 1 paragraph is deemed epic or too long. (Which is why 90% of you stopped reading this back at the part about Robin Meade.)
That need for constant innovation doesn't just lead to Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwiches in a can
Take a swig! As for me, I'm waiting for a tube of potato-chip-paste.
Maybe by next year, when we all have to stand in line all day Thanksgiving for the Door Buster Sales that'll be beginning at 6 a.m. that day, we'll have Thanksgiving Dinner In A Can!
Our need for innovation also leads to newer ways to cook a turkey/nearly kill yourself. For a couple of years there, the cooking method du jour (French for "which to light your veranda on fire") was deep-frying the turkey, but deep-frying is so yesterday that it might as well be a Paul McCartney song.
(Thanks, folks, I'll be here all week.)
The newest craze-to-come? Campfire Turkey Cooking. It's easy! And fun! And it's actually neither of those! Plus, it requires that you go camping, which might be the only way to make Thanksgiving more uncomfortable than it already is (aside from jumping out of a plane, that is.)
Campfire turkey cooking is recommended by Trails.com, which helpfully provides steps to follow to safely cook your turkey over an open flame, but which unhelpfully doesn't say what to do when the open flame ignites most of the forest, wrecking the Thanksgivings of the 35,000 firefighters who will battle that blaze for two months. (They won't get to the doorbuster sales on time!)
To give you an idea of how delicious a campfire turkey would be, consider the savory images presented by steps 3 and 4 on the site:
Step 3 Put your turkey into a dutch oven if you have one big enough to accommodate it. The turkey cannot be touching the sidewalls of the oven, and if you have a big turkey, it is unlikely your oven will be large enough. If not using an oven, wrap the turkey in cheese cloth and then wrap the entire turkey in three to four layers of aluminum foil. Step 4 Rake out half the coals from the campfire and into the pit. The bottom should be completely covered in coals, so consider one to two inches of coals a minimum. Also, make sure the stuff you rake in is mostly coals and not mostly ash. If there is no rake, use your shovel or camp spade. Place your turkey on top of those coals. Then rake the remainder of the coals into the pit and throw dirt on top until the pit is covered
Thereby transforming your turkey into a mockery of The Telltale Heart -- but providing it with that good, wholesome, traditional flavor of "hot soil."
Trails.com didn't then suggest throwing the dirty, fiery turkey out a plane from 13,500 feet, but I think that's understood.
I blame Bono for making rock and roll all serious and making sure that no fun would ever come of rock and roll, so that now listening to any real rock bands is almost the musical equivalent of watching C-Span or the History Channel.
Almost literally:
Is it just me, or does Billy Joel tweak that one rhyme a little when he says "Buddy Holly, Ben Hur, Space Monkey, Mafia?" It sounds like he says mafi-ER, doesn't it?
If you look around the music landscape these days, you'll see very few funny bands - -bands that know how to have a good time while still making good music. (If you look around the music landscape, in fact, you'll see very few good bands or musicians, period. They're all crowded out by the continued and inexplicable popularity of Taylor Swift, who really should put Kanye West on her payroll.)
(As should George "Worst President Ever" Bush, who can thank Kanye for making him relevant these days, giving ol' W(PE) a chance to claim that he never wanted to use force in Iraq... a claim that might just be true -- but only if you believe that W(PE) simply turned the government over to others to dismantle our society for 8 years. So he's either a liar or criminally negligent. Take your pick.)
In fact, I bet somewhere Bono is writing a song called Liar Or Criminally Negligent. It'll have a great guitar solo and a cool driving beat but will still make you feel as though you've got to be out protesting, or at least voting, while you listen to it.
So that's our musical landscape -- mostly -- these days: too serious songs about too serious subjects, taking a little fun out of music-for-music's sake, or songs by people that are either famous for something else:
Ouch! I used to like that song.
Or more famous than they (still) ought to be because someone once interrupted them.
Which I bring up today because isn't music supposed to still be a little fun? Do we all have to be superserious all the time? Maybe, if you ask REM:
REM is a band that gets credit for being superserious mostly because nobody can understand what their lyrics are about. (If you're a budding singer-songwriter, you'll want to make lyrics that are deliberately obtuse, and then mumble or otherwise obscure them. Doing that will guarantee you rocker-emeritus status someday, of the sort that REM enjoys and the sort that Elvis Costello gets in lengthy New Yorker articles that spend a great deal of time mulling his lyrics and almost no time mulling his past racist outbursts or the fact that he apparently will trade in some of his seriousness to play at a conference at which W(PE) was a guest, too.
That's not to say that REM isn't superserious -- they probably are, given that at least one of their songs was about the end of the world, which, jellybean booms notwithstanding, is a pretty serious subject:
...while another was about Andy Kaufman, and everyone knows that you're a serious person if you liked Andy Kaufman. Andy Kaufman holds an elite status in the world of entertainment for serious people: Like 30 Rock, Michael Moore documentaries, and those movies about New York fashion magazines, nobody really likes Andy Kaufman at all -- but serious people are required to say they like those things, or to pretend that people like them, at least, because those things have the Serious Person's Seal Of Approval (TM), a mark that is earned by being (a) not funny (b) not entertaining (c) a little too long and (d) inclusive of Tina Fey or somebody like her. If you have all of those things in your show/song/Broadway musical, you'll get the Serious Person's Seal Of Approval, which will guarantee that your little production, whatever it is, will forever be lauded by critics and mentioned favorably in comparison to other entertainment --
-- Sample critic commentary on snooty television show:
"You know, Bob, a lot of people certainly are flocking to the theaters to see "Freddy Krueger Saves Christmas From Predators," with some going two or even three times, and Christian Bale has even been mentioned as warranting an Oscar for the scene in which he yells at Rudolph and threatens to "trash his lights", but I've just got to say, this movie could have used a little more of Tina Fey's trademark self-deprecating Liz Lemon-one-liners. Also, Andy Kaufman."
-- but the Serious Person's Seal Of Approval also means that nobody will ever actually watch or listen to or actually like your little deal.
Rock and Roll wasn't always serious -- it began, remember, with the song Hound Dog, the very first rock-and-roll song that white people were allowed to listen to, ever:
That song stands as not only the very first rock song, ever, but also as the beginning of rock and roll as fun and not serious (even though there are those who say that you can make Hound Dog into an allegory of the great banking crisis in the early 20th century.) How serious can you be when repeating the words Hound Dog over and over, while also freaking out parents who don't realize that the kids watching this stuff will one day give birth to Katy Perry, whose dead eyes will usher in the horrifying next phase of human existence that begins in 2012?
Sorry. I got a little lost there. The point is that music in the 50s was fun and not serious, which was good because everything else in the 50s was very serious, and also in black-and-white, so America needed a little bit of humor in its music to offset the fact that our president was nicknamed "Ike."
That trend of humorous, fun-loving music continued into the 60s with those loveable moppets, The Monkees, and their famous theme song, "God Monkey Robot":
Ha, ha! Just kidding, and looking for an excuse to put that song in here. In reality, the Monkees' theme song was cleverly titled "(Theme From) The Monkees," and featuring the lyrics "We're the young generation, and we've got something to say."
What that generation had to say, of course, was profound and educational and not in any way influenced by drugs:
It wouldn't be long before the Monkees' infectious fun "crossed the pond" as nobody cool ever said and got adopted by a group of guys known as The Quarrymen. With a quick name change and some bowl haircuts, these guys would become the "Fab Four" we know and love on the strength of such feel-good hits showing the trademark sense of humor that would be associated with "The Beatles," on songs like "Eight Days A Week,"
Which is funny because, you see, there's not 8 days in a week!
But the fun didn't go on forever -- mixed in with such hilarity as "Baby You Can Drive My Car" (with the twist ending -- she had a driver, but [SPOILER ALERT!] she didn't have a car!) would come songs that looked at the serious side of a world caught up in social upheaval. Who can forget the stirring lyrics and stunning music that perfectly encapsulated the era's mixture of peace and war, Establishment and Hippy, Lyndon Johnson and his dog with those ears, all of it coming together in the song Octopus' Garden:
See what I did there? That wasn't a serious song at all!
But it didn't last forever. It wouldn't be long before the 70s came and music turned its back on fun and octopi, opting instead to tell stories of doomed spacemen:
and, because every article about music in the 70s has to mention him, something about Peter Frampton, blah blah blah are you happy now, Baby Boomers?
I'm so sick of having to hear about Peter Frampton. He was the Nirvana of the 70s, you know -- and Nirvana was the BeeGees of the 90s, so that's not saying much.
Rock's growing seriousness in the 70s was briefly combatted by Queen, who did their best to keep rock fun:
But even they couldn't hold out once U2 came on the scene. Their first album was titled War, for Pete's sake, and things didn't get any better from there. Orphaned skinny boys on their album covers, an album named for October, which everyone knows is the most serious month, all those shots of Bono squinting into the distance at all the injustice in the world and their songs! Songs about Martin Luther King and a friend who overdosed on drugs on his 21st birthday:
Which, admittedly, is a great song, but it's not fun, that's for sure. And, suddenly, that was it for fun rock and roll. Suddenly, rock had to be about something and try to save the world and know why the caged bird sings and all, which is all well and good, but we can't always be saving the world, can we? Even people who really do spend all their time saving the world -- Ghandi, Obama, Superman -- they must kick back once in a while and relax and want to just, you know, have some fun, don't they?
As an aside, doesn't the idea of Ghandi, Obama and Superman being together sound like either the intro to a mediocre joke or a great new HBO series? I'm thinking something like Deadwood, only with a mix of real and fictional leaders, and instead of the old West, they're, say, in medieval Korea, only medieval Korea somehow existing in the future.
I never actually watched "Deadwood," mind you, but I know that if you say something's like Deadwood critics will go nuts for it.
And my series about Obama and Ghandi and Superman would feature Andy Kaufman as the narrator.
Well, I say enough's enough, and it's time to recognize that rock can not only save the world, but it can be fun. People can save the world and be fun, you know. People can tell jokes while also getting work done, can achieve something while maybe making a pun or something like that. At least a limerick.
And that's why, at long last in this post, I am going to give you the Five Best FUNNY Songs that Still Rock Pretty Hard, to show you that rock and roll doesn't always have to be serious as a heart attack to be good, and in hopes that someone, somewhere, will listen to these and say "Hey, those are good" and that maybe there'll be a little more fun music out there that I can listen to and sing along with and not feel a crushing burden of guilt when I do. So here they are, counting down to number one, the way all rock countdowns go.
5. "Peaches," Presidents of the United States Of America. Maybe people didn't get the name. Maybe people didn't like the fact that they were making fun of a group of people that, frankly, can stand to be made more fun of. Or maybe they just were confused by the imagery in the song "Peaches," but for whatever reason, the Presidents of the United States of America enjoyed only marginal fame despite the fact that if you listen to this song, it's impossible not to want to tap your foot to the music, and impossible not to get caught up the chanting chorus at the end. Millions of peaches, peaches for me... Look out, indeed:
4. "Ana Ng," They Might Be Giants.They Might Be Giants show what happens to bands that are too clever by half; they end up being treated as kid's bands, until ultimately they just shrug and go into making kids' music. If you're not going to be played on the radio but are so clever that you can come up with a song off the top of your head about sweeping your apartment, what else could you do?
But that doesn't change the fact that they could rock when they wanted to, as shown in this song, with its crazy imagery, complete with claims that people are upside down on the other side of the world:
3. "Aliens Exist," Blink 182. Blink 182 gets a bad rap.
Okay, no they don't. There really wasn't much to their music, or their band. They were like The Ramones if The Ramones were those one jerky kids in your high school that you hoped to God would end up living above the dry cleaners they assistant manage when they were 35, eating dinner off an ironing board: all they had were red guitars, three chords, and a snarky attitude that made them impossible to really like -- but they could put a great song together with a good sense of humor, like in this song about a guy getting abducted by aliens:
2. "Sheep Go To Heaven," Cake. It was kind of hard to choose any particular Cake song for this list -- all of Cake's songs seem to embody a strange sense of humor that makes me feel like I never quite get the joke, but I laugh anyway, just to not let people know how out of it I am. (I do that a lot. I also frequently make noncommittal comments in conversations, like "Oh, yeah, I know," because I don't really pay attention so I never know what you're talking about.)
And I don't know what Cake's talking about here, but I do know that this song is perfect for air guitar and makes me laugh.
1. "July 13, 1985," John Wesley Harding: What else could be the number one on this list, if not the only song that had the guts to make fun of the transformative moment in the "Rock As Serious Business" movement -- Live Aid? In a single song John Wesley Harding not only manages to point out the ridiculous parts of Live Aid, from the fact that it was an all-white festival of congratulations to the fact that nobody attending really helped anything to the impending sainthood of Bob Geldof (remember him?)
Longtime readers know that for a while now I've been perched, vulture-like, over the shoulder of Thanksgiving, a holiday that I love but which nevertheless I recognize will eventually not be celebrated in any meaningful way.
Not that I'm blaming just you; this year, I've already told Sweetie that she and Mr Bunches and The Boy can go see a movie on Thanksgiving Day while Mr F and I cook the dinner -- Mr F is not really one to actually sit long enough to see a movie -- so I'm helping abandon the only truly American holiday we have -- one that celebrates nothing more than eating and watching TV.
But you -- society-- still take a little bit of blame, because while I'm staying home, you're all forcing Sears to break a 124-year-old tradition of not being open on Thanksgiving.
That's right: Sears is caving in to your demands for "door-buster" sales that finish up before you've even basted the turkey. (Note to those who eat at my house on Thanksgiving: I don't know how to baste a turkey.) From Chicago comes the report:
Sears is doing something it's never done in its 124 year history. Stores will be open on Thanksgiving Day.All Sears stores will stay open for a half day from 7 a.m. until noon.The Hoffman Estates-based company hopes to cash in on shoppers looking for early bird savings.The company said the decision follows numerous customer requests.
(Source.) You might think that's just another day in which Sears employees will spend most of their time telling people in the store how to get to the store they actually wanted to shop at, but to me, it's another nail in the coffin of Thanksgiving.
I thought this was "Largest Wang Chung Display" when I first read it.
It's not. It's 3,164 people doing that Largest Wing Chun Display. "Wing Chun" is apparently yet another oriental martial art combat type. How many are there? Just off the top of my head there's karate and judo and tai chi and tae bo and jazzercize and... well, probably lots of others. Why can't they be more like Western society and just stick with the two types of combat we have-- streetfighting, and "Hobo Crotch Kicking?"
On a related note, I'm now thinking I'd like to set a record for Largest Wang Chung Display. Anyone care to join me?
I like the funky music in the background. It's like a 70s action TV show theme.
With that music, it's easy to imagine Andrew Dahl: Nose Balloon Cop on the air just before Fantasy Island.
This record's actually a two-fer: That's Most Balloons Blown Up By Nose In 3 Minutes, by Andrew Dahl also holds a related world record for Most Balloons Blown up By Nose In One Hour. He blew up 213 of them, in 3 minutes.
While we should all celebrate Andrew's achievements -- these days, you'd expect that kids who want to blow up balloons would simply plug in their xBox 360 and go to "Virtual Balloons," I feel compelled to point out that Balloon HQ recommends blowing up balloons by mouth:
Have you ever seen a mouth inflater at work? It adds an incredible amount of excitement to an event, even if he/she is far away. It is kind of like action and color in motion.
So expect that Balloon HQ -- like the rest of Big Balloon-- is going to come after Andrew with full force.
The two-step formula for setting a world record, remember, is
1. Think of something nobody would ever do and do that thing, then 2. Sit back and wait for someone to beat the record, making you nothing more than "the person who used to have that one record."
That formula gets turned on its head a bit by today's World Record, a record which is a bit hard for me to understand -- and that's part of why I picked it. How can it be a World Record if I'm not sure what it is people are doing to earn the record?
Plus, I'm not sure that the record was even actually set, as we'll see.
I'm talking about the World Record For Most Entries In A Two-Person Animal Pantomime Race, the record for which was set about two months ago at Goodwood Race Course.
As far as I can figure out, the race requires two-person teams to enter a 100m run during which the teams pretend to be an animal -- dressing up as the animal, too. I say "as far as I can figure out," though, because that's not entirely clear from the intro to the report of the record:
Strange things are a hoof at Goodwood. A camel, a reindeer and even a smouldering volcano have been spotted taking to the course. It can only mean one thing, a Guinness World Records attempt for the Most Entries in a Two Horse Pantomime Animal Race.
A "smouldering volcano?" Unless we're talking about Robert Pattinson, I'm not sure that either smouldering or a volcano counts as an animal, Goodwood and Guiness. The site reports that 37 pairs took part in the 2010 version of this record -- but that ought to be 36, at best, and there's no telling how many others might not have been animals as such.
What I'm trying to say, I guess, is that this is a record ripe for the breaking -- like the pizza one -- because if only 37 pairs of animal-mimes took part, you (or I, or anyone) stand a good chance of beating that. All you (or I) have to do is find 76 people willing to pretend to be animals for 100 meters, and we hold the record.
And as further proof of how easy it'll be to break this record, consider the fact that the company that helped set the record -- and insurance company known as "RSA" -- is the company that held the previous record. So they broke their own record.
That's your assignment for the day -- find 76 people and get animal-miming. As for me, I've got a seminar, and I'm kind of behind on my work. Plus, I'm still really devoted to beating that pizza record first.
Geek For Hire and Blogger Corgi wrote this in response to my selection of The Best Web Comic:
