That awful scent wafting off of the guy wearing the Stratovarius shirt at the next convention you go to may stink of something different. No, that’s not unwashed ass you smell, it may in fact be death. Muwahaha!

The H1N1 flu, aka as Mrs. Piggy’s Strand of Expiration apparently showed up at PAX last weekend:

Via Kotaku:

The official PAX Twitter account wrote today “Just heard of our first test-confirmed swine flu case at the show. PLEASE if you feel symptoms (fever, etc) go to the doctor.” That’s potentially alarming news for the approximately 60,000-plus estimated attendees of this year’s. We contacted Penny Arcade reps to get more details on the reports of Swine Flu.

The Nerd Community’s equivalent of the Bubonic Plague may have just struck. Take some theraflu, see your doctor, and spend a couple days in your dungeon of choice.

It’s a common fear of mine that my comic book store of choice, Webhead, is a bad year away from folding. The owner Dean, who is a good lad of mine, told me recently that they wouldn’t even be capable of staying open without their business selling shit online.

I was floored. I knew things were bad, but not that bad.

Then I came across this great article by Christopher Butcher that was linked from another blog I frequent, The Beat. Here’s an excerpt:

Things aren’t stable, behind the scenes (and sometimes spilling onto message boards and websites) people are very worried. Fans, Retailers, Publishers. Distributors. But the thing that to me is the most disconcerting and heralds the biggest change? Diamond Comics Distributors drastically raising their order minimums.

I can’t imagine that this is going to do anything but make life more difficult for the struggling comic book store. It’s a lengthy article, but it’s worth checking out if a Wednesday trip down the comic book store means the same thing to you as it does to me.

Check out the article here.

OMFG, FFXIII is Japanese dated, right? Well guess what, “International Gamers”, Square Enix boss Yoichi Wada has a release date for you:

Via Destructoid:

“In the past, it’s taken a year or half a year to release our games abroad, but this time we are aiming for an international release this Spring”

Uhh…Spring? I wasn’t happy with this, so I raised my hand.

Uh, you’re like, fucking around, right? Spring? Like, sometime between March 20 and like uh…June something? Fuck, my elementary school education is lost in a pile of pills and caffeine. Seriously though, when?

And he responded,

Sometime in Spring. It may even be Australian spring. How do you like me now, addicted gamer bitch?

He then flipped me off, grabbed his crotch, and left the stage.

Spring. Well fuck. I’m starting graduate school in January, so if I may make a suggestion: Either during Spring Break in March, or at the beginning of May.

December mother fucking 17, 2009.

The date that lucky Japanese motherfuckers will be able to play Final Fantasy XIII. Good god damn, this game isn’t fake. I’m running around my room screaming “YES, YES!” while my Nana weeps upstairs unknowing and confused as to what’s going on down here.

The release date gives all of us unwashed English-speaking gamers…three months to learn Japanese. Or else we’ll be waiting you know, the usual FORTY FIVE YEARS it takes Square to localize a game. God forbid they localize is as they go and release it simultaneously. I don’t know if this makes me excited, or saddened, knowing that the game is in fact real, and people not named Ian Drinkwater will be playing it.

With Spike Jonze on the mind, this monologue from Brian Cox in Kaufman/Jonze’ Adaptation. For the god damn win.

If you’re like me, you’ve been following Spike Jonze’s next project Where the Wild Things Are off and on since well, it began, a million years ago. I came home today and was lovingly linked to this article in the NY Times about the movie by my friend Andrew. You’re the man now, dawg. I had heard that this project was in limbo, with Jonze and the Talking Heads and Powers That Be not really being on the same page regarding the project. Jonze has always been a hero of mine for his work on Adaptation alone, so this profile piece was really tight. Go check it out, but I’m going to leave you with a quote from the article that encapsulates why I love Jonze and his unfettered imagination:

If you compromise what you’re trying to do just a little bit, you’ll end up compromising a little more the next day or the next week, and when you lift your head you’re suddenly really far away from where you’re trying to go.

HELL YEAH BRUCE WAYNE NAKED! Welcome to the abode, fellow pervert. Seriously though, I question your taste. At the very least, if I’m going to get a boner from Bruce Wayne/Batman, he’s going to have to be wearing the mask. He can hit me in any position as long as I can grab onto those ears. There are countless hot billionaires, but there’s only one naked Batman.

There is a certain disconnection in my life whenever I leave the mancave and embark on some sort of journey. Whether I’m fucking around in Cow Country, or I’m meandering the marshes of Nova Scotia, I am decidedly unplugged. And I’m not sure I particularly dislike it.

Most of the time.

I’m a Twitter fiend. I don’t really use it to convey my feelings or what I’m doing. Seldom will you see me all,

Just took a shit. Used my hand to wipe up, toilet paper couldn’t handle the sludge.

or

Sam wasn’t happy when I ripped ass at the dinner table with her Dad, LOL.

Just not my thing. I’m already self-indulgent enough thinking people care about my analysis of banal news and stifling non-stories.

But I use Twitter to actively and obsessively garner the latest news from a variety of venues. What’s the latest word from Destructoid? What’s my other blogging situation over at Mishka sporting right now? And unmentioned but equally as important in personal mind-numbing minutiae is sporting news.

Open Twitter. Click refresh. Click refresh. Open Firefox. Click refresh. Click refresh.

I don’t think that this is a behavior particular to me. We all dabble in data streams these days without even realizing it. Open Facebook. Open MySpace. Open Twitter. Get the latest news. Get the latest status updates.

When I first leave, I brace for impact. Data crash. Information withdrawal. As I hurtle further and further down the highway, or skyway, or waterway, my parents’ basement recedes further into the distance.

I cry a single tear and mourn the loss of my computer, my comfortable set-up. Sure there are other computers I can hop on, check the e-mail. But it’s not the same. I’ve often remarked that I could physically move these days a countless number of times and not mind, so long as I had MY computer. MY mouse. MY phone. My life isn’t the room I’m sitting anymore; it’s the computer I’m sitting on. I equate comfortableness with the alignment of my icons on the taskbar, my wallpaper waiting for me when I boot up the computer.

It’s sad, or maybe it simply is. Maybe that’s just the way the world is swinging these days. Who knows. Give me my iMac and my keyboard and I’m ready to handle shit. Typing this mindless goop right here on a computer not my own is like sleeping in a bed not belonging to me. It’s a bed, it serves a purpose. But it isn’t mine.

The further I get away from my computer, the instantly-refresh lifestyle that my generation is buried in, the more it becomes okay. The desire to incessantly interact with the same five stories on thirteen different sites (including this here shit box) fades into the back of my mind.

And for the moment, silence.

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Guess what, Dick Grayson is the hottest! I’m glad someone searched Dick Grayson Hottest and found us! Welcome my child, you have found a new home.

In fact, what could be hotter than DICK GRAYSON?! Dick Grayson and Poison Ivy Cumshots! That’s right, someone searched Poison Ivy Cumshots and they were shuttled to our humble inter-abode.

I’m glad that when I think “Ian, you’re so fucked up, why do you find Ivy’s slithering vines so erotic?”, someone else comes along and informs me they’re searching the internet for Poison Ivy getting ejaculate all over her.

And the only way to make this post right, would be by suggesting that the hottest, Dick Grayson, supply the splooge.

Yes, I commandeered a computer powered by Cows and Moonshine to make this post out in central New York. Merry fucking Labor Day!

Whenever I wander around Warren Ellis’ Whitechapel Forums (which is pretty much everyday) it doesn’t take long before I find something worthwhile. Some days, it’s a new book to read or an 8tracks mixtape or some scientific article I can barely wrap my head around. In other words, Whitechapel is a failsafe source of discovery.

Today was no exception. Browsing the Splash Page Art Challenge Thread, I was struck by the work of George Zapata (who posts as ‘gzapata’). His submission (as seen below) wonderfully depicts the differences between Batman & Superman. And while this interplay between light/dark, cheerful/brooding, inspiring/frightening has been explored ad nauseam, Zapata’s effort is much more refreshing and playful.

From Superman’s ridiculous hair-curl to Batman’s scowl, Zapata helps the reader remember that these are cartoons — they don’t always have to be  complicated characters of  socio-cultural critiques. Sometimes, believe it or not, comic books can just be fun – and that’s exactly what these two pages prove.

I made my way to Zapata’s website to discover that he is a former student of the Joe Kubert School of Cartoon and Graphic Art and is trying to cut his teeth in the comic book world. I emailed George and asked for permission to post these images and he has yet to respond. With that being said, I’m going to assume he’s cool with it.

Go to his  blog. Check out his sick art. Let him know what you think. Help out the small guys.