I love her. Please don't tell my fiancé.
(Actually ya know what on second thought, it's probably fine. They pretty much look the same anyway.)
Thom Dunn is a Boston-based writer, musician, and utterly terrible dancer. He is the singer/guitarist for the indie rock/power-pop the Roland High Life, as well as a staff writer for the New York Times’ Wirecutter and a regular contributor at BoingBoing.net. Thom enjoys Oxford commas, metaphysics, and romantic clichés (especially when they involve whiskey), and he firmly believes that Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" is the single greatest atrocity committed against mankind. He is a graduate of Clarion Writer's Workshop at UCSD ('13) & Emerson College ('08).
I love her. Please don't tell my fiancé.
(Actually ya know what on second thought, it's probably fine. They pretty much look the same anyway.)
"It is widely known Rep. Frank D. Lucas is no longer alive and has been displayed by a look alike. Rep. Lucas’ look alike was depicted as sentenced on a white stage in southern Ukraine on or about Jan. 11, 2011. I am contesting that this matter has happen [sic] since his election was blocked, because of the U.S. Defense Department’s use of Mr. Murray's DNA. To my knowledge, the U.S. Defense Department has not released to the public that information, as it is their confidential information about many people." — GOP Congressional Candidate Timothy A. Murray
Don't get me wrong, I totally understand political maneuvering and smear tactics but...Invasion of the Body Snatchers here takes the game to a whole new level.
The fine folks at Quirk Books have just released Stuff Every Geek Should Know, the latest in their ongoing sampler series of free eBooks. These samplers often feature snippets from Quirk's other offerings, along with fun little teasers and games, but Stuff Every Geek Should Know is chock-full of brand new content from writers including Eric Smith, Kyle Cassidy, E.C. Myers, and, oh yeah, me! I've had comic books and scripts published, and plenty of non-fiction, but this is technically my first eBook from a real official fancy publisher. Here's the official blurb from Quirk:
Packed with tips, articles, and how-tos on everything from performing Jedi mind tricks to creating your own cosplay gear to wooing the geek of your dreams, Stuff Every Geek Should Know is an indispensable guide to life, the universe, and everything geeky. Featuring content from Quirk's nerdiest titles plus all-new, never-before-seen good stuff from the geekiest bloggers in the known universe. Chapters include:
GEEK SKILLS FROM POP CULTURE: How to survive a haunted house, perform the Vulcan nerve pinch, decode ciphers, and master other survival skills.
GEEKS IN ACTION: How to make amazing YouTube vids, create comic books, handle yourself in an online multiplayer game, and generally get your geek on.
THE GEEK GATHERING: How to have the best convention experience of your life.
GEEK LOVE: How to craft an online dating profile, plan a geeky marriage proposal, pass on geek wisdom to your kids, and otherwise enjoy the human emotion of "love."
You can download the book on Scribd, Amazon, Nook, Kobo, or iBooks, for all your e-reading pleasure — and tell your friends to do the same!
They Might Be Giants are one of those bands that everybody knows, but not everybody realizes how familiar they actually are with the band. Some people just think of them as "Those Guys From The Tiny Toons Music Videos" or "The Band That Sang The Malcolm In The Middle Theme Song" or just "Those Two Weird Guys With The Accordion And Nasally Voices." But if you give 'em a chance, and embrace all the weirdness that their catalog has to offer, you'll quickly come to understand just how great this band really is.
And to help with that discovery, they are currently offering a free download of a live performance of their complete debut album, which includes such gems as "Don't Let's Start" above. What have you got to lose? Download away and give it a chance, and I suspect that you'll soon find yourself unable to resist their quirky charm.
Also, Thom Dunn Fun Fact: I once played in a They Might Be Giants tribute band with Jacob Wake-Up called "Your Racist Friends." We played one show ever, mostly to entertain our friend Flood (which is actually his name, despite also being the name of a TMBG album), who now distributes vinyl re-pressings of classic They Might Be Giants albums on his record label.
This crazy custom job was made by the Doc Brown triplets with the help of their trusty Flux Capicator from three salvaged, junked Deloreans. You can follow the mod process here, which I assume is really cool and impressive and technical and stuff but I don't know anything about cars.
What I do know is that I've always wanted a Delorean of my very own, if for no other reason than that it could give me an excuse to cruise around town pickin' up chicks by using "Flux Capacitor" as an innuendo, and be all like "I bet you can handle 1.21 gigawatts of power, baby," which totally would have worked every time. Right, ladies?
...Right? Hello? Anyone?
I swear that I was cool in high school.
Remarkably, I never actually engaged in a dildo-lightsaber-battle as a child — but as anyone who knew me at that age could attest, I definitely would have, if the opportunity had presented itself.
Maybe I shouldn't be admitting that on the Internet? I'm talking about the beautiful bliss of combined childhood ignorance and creativity, people! Jeez!
In Transhuman, writer Jonathan Hickman
uses JM Ringuet's gorgeous artwork to tell an original story about the rise of Transhumanism as a corporate pissing match, and it embodies everything that is wrong with Hickman as a writer.
Don't get me wrong, Hickman is incredibly creative and kind of a mad genius — he's just a terrible storyteller. I've come to accept this fact. Transhuman is told as a "documentary" about the rise of the 3 largest Transhumanist corporations, which I guess is a clever conceit, except (1) why make a fictional documentary as a graphic novel? Why not, ya know, write a screenplay? and (2) the nature of those 60 Minutes-style factual reporting documentary is, by nature, a summary, and therefore not a story. The story is told through interviews with a narrator and the people involved in the story, but they are literally just TELLING the reader what happened. It's almost remarkable that a graphic novel — a medium which is visual by nature — could rely so much on telling and not showing, and therefore breaks one of the cardinal rules of fiction writing.
Sure, there are some interesting characters, and probably some cool dramatic, personal moments between them — namely, the divorced couple who end up working together on the Transhumanist project despite their mutual hatred for one another, who ultimately backstab each other again — but frankly, it's not very interesting to just see someone tell you that. It doesn't matter how witty or clever the commentary and writing is, I want to see it happen, I want to witness their interpersonal relations. If this were a real-life documentary from 50 years from now, and it aired on 60 Minutes or whatever, it would probably be great, because investigative journalism can get away with digging deep and just reciting facts (although I'd argue that most award-winning works of investigative journalism still manage to find a compelling human angle, something for the audience to emotionally engage with that makes them follow the story through to the end). In Transhuman, we just get a bunch of talking heads telling us what already happened, and a narrator / director to steer us away from any unreliable sources. There is literally nothing compelling or human to pull you through the story. There's a clever (albeit overwhelmingly cynical) twist at the end, which I guess is fun. But you can't build a story off a twist.
When Hickman first broke out onto the comics scene, I thought he was fantastic, but the truth is, he's good at creating the ILLUSION of good story telling. Everything he writes is done in summary, with a few cool moments in between to make it feel human. A friend of mine summed it up well as citing the difference between The Lord of the Rings and The Silmarillion — one is a story about characters that we care about, the other is a play-by-play history book, and Hickman writes the latter. I think Hickman would be better off as an idea man, leaving other people to actually execute these epic stories of his. Because the worlds he creates are always unique and fascinating, full of complex politics and otherworldly visions. But saying "HERE'S THIS CRAZY WORLD I CREATED AND THERE ARE THESE GUYS AND THEN THESE TWO FOUGHT AND THEN THIS GUY BETRAYED THIS GIRL AND THEN THIS PERSON WON, THE END" is really not a fun story to read.
I mean, okay, this was a fun moment. But not worth the wait.
That guy. Always finding new ways to one-up himself. But I'll tell ya what, aliens or not, this new movie looks pretty much perfect. For a Michael Bay flick, I mean.
And yes, in case you were wondering, I am equally proud of the fact that I neither made a "Coming Out" (of their shells) joke in mockery of the above clip, and that I did not simply link to "Ninja Rap," because let's face it, that song's pretty dope.
EDIT: a friend of mine shared this amazing mashup of the above video with a straight-edge hardcore band. It's probably only funny if you've familiar with the hardcore scene, so if you're not, trust me when I say that this is hilarious and also perfect.
My Clarion cohort on the first day, with instructor Andy Duncan and program director Shelley Streeby
When I got the call that I was accepted to Clarion, I was standing on the waterfront in Valdez, Alaska. My fiancé, Bevin, was in the middle of tech week for a play that she was producing when Tanya called me and said, "Hey, do you want to spend 6 weeks this summer writing fiction with a team of incredible teachers and other aspiring weirdos like yourself? Also it starts in 4 weeks and we need to have your answer tomorrow." Coordinating a phone call with your partner over a 4-hour time difference to ask her if she would mind if you went away again and also spend all of your money on playing make-believe in Californa is, well, not a conversation I'd wish on anyone. I'm kidding, of course; it went very well (clearly), because Bevin is incredibly supportive of me. But it was still a big decision.
If you know me in person, then you know I've talked about it enough: the Clarion Writer's Workshop at UCSD was an incredible and life-changing experience for me as both a person and a writer. And I wouldn't have been able to do it if not for scholarship support from the Clarion Foundation, which helped to ease some of the financial load. Don't get me wrong, if I had absolutely bankrupted myself and lost my job in order to attend Clarion, it still would have been worth it (neither of those things actually happened, for which I'm grateful). And so naturally, I want to give back.
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I thought I was supposed to get more conservative as I got older and scoff at my foolish, ignorant youth. Isn't that how this is supposed to work? So why is it that this song strikes me as being even more poignant and relevant today than it was 15 years ago? (besides that I was 14 when it came out and definitely did not fully grasp the political complexities contained within the lyrics beyond "YEAH PUNK ROCK ANARCHY WOO DOWN WITH THE GOVERNMENT CORPORATIONS R ST00PIT")
I'd say this song was prophetic, but really, it's more eye-opening to realize how the problems that our country faces today have actually been issues for quite some time now, and have only gotten worse as the years have gone on. Maybe that's a sign that, ya know, it's actually time to do something about extremism, and violence, and corporate abuse, and economic imbalance, and mental health, and so on? Maybe?
I wish I had a schilling
for every senseless killing —
I'd buy a government.
America's for sale
and you can get a good deal on it
and make a healthy profit,
or maybe tear it apart.
Start with assumption
that a million people are smart,
smarter than one.
First government defense organizations tried to create an algorithm to understand sarcasm on the Internet. Now, in their latest effort to understand what all the kids are talking about with their hip lingo, the FBI has compiled an official (83 page!) list of "Twitter slang", presumably so that they can more easily spy on outraged high schoolers on Tumblr or something, which in turn will help fight terrorism, because America.
You know, because apparently that Quantico education doesn't teach you that the number "2" sometimes stands in for "to," "too," or occasionally, "two."
And so without any further ado, here is the FBI's complete list of Twitter Slang, including things like "PMFJIB" (Pardon me for jumping in, but) and "KMT" (Kiss my teeth) which are apparently real things that people on the Internet have actually said.
"Hey wait remind me again how it came to be
that being a stupid american is a desirable trait?"
On the bright side, at least we're making a little bit of progress on this:
(source)
Here's a little snippet from an interview I did for Greyscale, an interactive documentary that deconstructs the complexities of sexuality and language. In this clip, I talk about "bromance," and the spectrum of non-sexual attraction. (More importantly, I managed to talk about it without incriminating myself too much in any way, despite my twitchy-pausing-blinky-ness, which I think counts as an achievement)
Here's a fun little gem, courtesy of Retronaut: advice from the US Embassy to American tourists in Nepal regarding the Yeti, from 1959. I especially appreciate the 3rd rule, wherein the ambassador acknowledges that, yes, okay, we don't actually have any proof of the Yeti's existence yet, but you still have to follow these guidelines, and also if you happen to find any substantial proof of Yeti claims, would you kindly pass them on to the Nepalese government?
I don't know, man, I smell a conspiracy. Unless...that awful smell is actually the Yeti itself?
Not much has changed in the last 50 years, including Bostonians' horrible driving habits.
Someone just shared this wonderful gem on Facebook, though I had trouble finding the original source (I mean, there's so much Beatles stuff out there already anyway, so who knows which of the gazillion massive volumes it could have come from). It was too good not to share here, especially #4. 'Cause let's face it...Paul's right. The Let It Be...Naked version is way better (I actually think that Let It Be...Naked is a superior album, period, but maybe that's just me).
Well hey, at least Phil Spector never held a gun to any of the Beatles (at least as far as we know).
I found this little gem bouncing around the twittersphere. Can't find the original source, but if anyone has it, please let me know!
I read the first 30 pages of The Girl With All The Gifts on the train ride into work one rainy morning, and I'm pretty sure I got choked at least three times in that opening section of the book. Who the hell gets emotional over precocious 10-year-old zombies?
The Girl With All the Gifts
is a new novel by M.R. "Totally Not Mike Carey" Carey. I've been a fan of M.R.'s alter ego for a while now, ever since his run on X-Men: Legacy
and, more recently, his crazy Harry Potter metafiction series The Unwritten
, so even if The Girl With All The Gifts wasn't one of the most-hyped genre books of the year, I would have still been pretty excited about it. However, it was heavily hyped, which made me that much more anxious to get my hands on an ARC — and I can happily say that it was worth every bit of the buzz.
The simplest way to describe The Girl With All The Gifts is as a young adult zombie novel, but even given my personal penchant for clunky noun-y elevator pitches, that description doesn't do the book justice. The story focuses on an eerily precocious young girl named Melanie, who lives in a cellblock with twenty other children like her, where they go to school and learn and then get forced back into their cells by soldiers. Once a week, the children are given a chemical shower and a meal of grubs. The kids seem a little weird, sure, but they're all remarkably articulate, if a little bit naïve and — oh yeah, they sometimes crave human flesh, like the other mindless "hungries" that have obliterated the British landscape.
Here's a trailer for the book:
The majority of the book focuses on the relationship between Melanie and her favorite teacher, Ms. Justineau, on whom she has one of those weird psuedo-crushes that plenty of ten-year-olds have but especially those who are already emotionally stunted by, erm, crazy fungal parasites. That's another thing — this psuedoscience surrounding the zombie outbreak in this book is some of the most well-researched and believable science I've ever read in a zombie story (not to mention, viscerally grotesque in way too many ways). If you want some spoilers, it's a very slight extrapolation from this very real bit of scientific horror.
The real strengths of the book lie in its characters, as well as M.R. Carey's delicate prose. Sure, there are a few places where I would have liked a bit more vivid descriptions than "bland army cellblock" and "post-apocalyptic countryside," but Carey is able to capture so much emotion in his stark and simple sentences. The relationships are complex, but they're rendered in such a way that they are easy to understand and empathize with. And honestly, the young-adult-as-intelligent-zombie metaphor is a particularly powerful one — the adults simultaneously underestimate her and also think she's dangerous, while she has trouble grasping the true complexities of the world around her. Young adult stories are often about coming into one's own and discovering one's true identity, and in the case of Melanie, that couldn't be more literal. She thinks, therefore she is, but she continues to struggle with understanding what that means for the other people around her — both human and hungry alike. The rest of the cast stray into two-dimensional territory — the gruff soldier, the alcoholic Irish rookie (oof), the viciously determined scientist, and the mothering, emotional researcher — but in the end, you can't help but feel for them and root for their journeys, as well as Melanie's (and, like all good drama, those journeys don't always work in harmony together...).
If you like zombie stories, or young adult stories, or post-apocalyptic stories, or teacher-student relationship stories, I absolutely cannot recommend this book more highly. So check it out — I swear, it doesn't bite...
It's no big secret that I have an odd relationship with clickbait-y headlines. There's value to them, because they work — but the trick is in finding the right balance between intriguing your audience, and just plain pissing them off.
With the launch of ClickHole today, and particularly with the video below, I think The Onion has found the perfect equilibrium.
That was beautiful, man.