The Perfect Facsimiles

Last night's tweets;

Inky alligators read about squids.
So odd porn magazines keep up business.
Sleepy, smart cheese stockbrokers open bids.
Like dogs before Tom will Jerry Mouse kiss.

Roger Ebert's posted information about the newly restored version of Metropolis streaming to-morrow. If there's a version with English subtitles I just might wake up early for this. I'm really excited in any case--over an hour of footage that hasn't been seen since the 1920s. Ebert thinks he can follow the story okay without translation, but I don't know. An hour of story is a pretty big game changer.

Yeah, I'm definitely not going to try getting jury duty out of the way to-morrow. Maybe Monday. But I realised how ridiculous it would be to do on Friday when I'm probably going to be up late Thursday finishing the new chapter of my comic. But, having finished pencil and ink yesterday, I've been colouring since I woke up to-day at 12:30 and I'm cautiously beginning to hope that I'll be able to finish this thing well before I need to go to sleep. It's not as complicated a chapter, though hopefully I'll have my shit together for 45, the broad strokes of which I've already got laid out in my head.

Not much to say about yesterday or to-day as I've pretty much just been working on my comic. Well, I took out the trash yesterday. Took out the trash and I'm on fire, as Amanda Palmer once said.

I watched the fifth episode of Being Human's second series and I see I'm going to have to wait until the sixth episode's available now. Maybe I ought to've been clearer when I was asking people to recommend shows to me that I need something with a whole lot of episodes already--I need to be able to put something on immediately rather than getting locked up trying to decide what to watch with dinner. I have a worse problem with breakfast, actually, since before coffee it takes me even longer to make decisions. I need to find another great, already completed anime series I've never seen before. I know I could just do it the old fashioned way and put up with whatever happens to be on television while I eat, but I'm much too spoiled now. Lousy programming actively makes me angry. My brain's too hungry and it doesn't eat astroturf.

Speaking of astroturf, or rather astroturfing I was disappointed to see Joe Quesada apologising for a recent issue of Captain America which sort of implied that tea baggers are racist. We're talking about a group that holds signs showing Obama with a Hitler moustache--tea baggers are the last group of people to whom one should apologise for smearing, justly or unjustly. The most important difference between tea baggers and old segregationist movements is that tea baggers are a total fucking joke.