If you’re one of those people who was all “Hermione+Ron OTP for lyfe bruh!“, J.K. Rowling is shitting on your Potter existence. Years after the Potter Saga ended in a shit-confetti explosion of fan service in that god forsaken epilogue, Rowling is coming out and saying she got the Hermione relationship wrong.
Over the months that saw Absalom writing at this bar, he’d grown fond of Thelma. She was busty and acerbic and two tax brackets below most of the clientele. More importantly, she was most attentive to Absalom, having memorized his preferred drink-sequence.
Serving the public ain’t easy, and doin’ it well is damn-near impossible.
“Thelma, goddess of libation that you are, how many times do I have to warn you against eavesdroppin’? It’s not becomin’ of a woman like you. If you want to experience a life-changin’ conversation, you mustn’t resort to NSA tactics,” Absalom gave a shot-in-the-dark wink that defied his age, “just ask me out to dinner.”
“Oh yes, ‘dinner,’ that lovely euphemism for those too cowardly to just come out ask for it. Sex. Even if it were my greatest desire to bed you – and believe me, it isn’t – I simply wouldn’t be able to go through with it.”
“And why not?”
“Are you serious?” Following Absalom’s implicit instructions, Thelma set down the two shot glasses. One for a formely-respected, now lying-in-the-gutter-but-lookin’-through-the-smog-hopin’-to-see-a-star Writer. The other for a stoned-on-booze-and-slowly-realizin’-that-my-careerist-aspirations-will-never-get-me-high-off-life Intern. Between them, she placed a bottle of bourbon.
And for Absalom, a fresh bottle of Pepsi.
“By the gods, of course I’m serious! Why wouldn’t you bed me?”
“It’s Señor Fabliaux, Thelma, and you know it!”
“Whatever! Even if I wanted to sleep with you, I wouldn’t. And the reason? Your ever-deteriorating old-man body couldn’t handle it! Having sex with me would literally kill you.”
“Ah, but it’d be a most glorious death.”
Welcome to the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE! First, I give ya’ll a bit of fiction to get the mind warmed up! Then, I run through some of the ways I’ll be entertaining myself over the course of the workweek. After I’ve tired myself out, you hit up the comments section and share your strategies for fending off the Beasts of Boredom!
Yes, it’s basically the Spaceship OL way station.
Okay, let’s rock!
A week ago, I went out to dinner with a group of my friends. It was a memorable time, but it brought my year into focus—or rather, brought out its relative indistinctness. One friend, whom I hadn’t seen for a year, sat next to me during this festive occasion, and of course, having not spoken much to each other in some time, we decided to catch up. The problem was I didn’t have much to offer, so we were close to being caught up from the get-go. (It’s a wonder how I have any friends to begin with.)
The most pertinent conversation went like this:
“Hey, Eduardo! It’s great seeing you! So what have you been up to?”
“Ya, same old, same old, really.”
“I haven’t seen you in a year and nothing new has happened? I find that hard to believe.”
“Well, I’m a year older than I was the last time I saw you, so I guess that’s something.”
Let’s get the apology out of the way first. To the crew and passengers aboard the ship, I’m sorry for being so unacceptably neglectful of my duties. However, I’ve been building you all a present. Come down any time you want and visit me just off the engine room in our brand-spanking new Dreamatorium. Not as technologically advanced as a Holodeck, but it works in an overly imaginative pinch.
Don’t let the jolly belly and the beard fool you. George R.R. Martin is one cold blooded motherfucker. Here is every single death from his A Song of Ice and Fire (it isn’t Game of Thrones, you illiterate swine!) tabbed. Two-hundred and eighty-four fallen souls. Shout out to I Heart Chaos for the find.
Rad ass. Sort of. Amazon is going to begin offering a digital copy of physical books that you snag. For a teeny fee. Frankly, I’m there. Maybe it’s bullshit or whatever that they’re going to charge the extra dough, but I’m a sucker. For far too long I’ve groused that I couldn’t lend a friend a hard copy of a book that I snagged for my Kindle. Or add it to my physical library, as a monument to my literary materialism.
Man, I don’t know how to feel about this. Starting in 2015, there are five new J.D. Salinger books coming down the pipeline. Apparently these fuckers are approved by the Recluse himself, but it still smacks of oddity to me. At best.
I used to believe in the `ole “Better late than never” adage.
But then there was that time that I was late in delivering that CD with the software update which told the Home Health Bots to not rape their clients. Boy oh boy, was Dr. Stephen J. Vunderlust upset with me! And he had good reason, too! The phone lines lit up like a Fifth of July hangover, with the receiver screeching out horrid details about old folks and invalids being robot-raped. Relentlessly. Until expiration.
So yeah, sometimes it’s not okay to be late.
But alas! This is the Monday Morning Commute and my tardiness ain’t resultin’ in any forced sodomy! This is the spot where I show you how I’ll be spending the next few days. Y’know, what I’ll be doin’ to kill time and avoid the type of boredom only available to First World Denizens of this Strange Future-Present. Anyways, then you hit up the comments section and share your upcoming activities.
Don’t be late to this ball — let’s dance!
Boston Comic Con 2013 turned out to be a couple of wonderful, wild, days. In the course of slingin’ t-shirts, debatin’ the message of said shirts, and snappin’ photos with cosplayers, the crew of Spaceship OL had an absolute blast. We got to meet up with some of the ever-faithful OL readers, we met Rich from Toucher and Rich, and at one point our very own Riff Simian started playin’ a goddamn guitar at the booth. Yowza!
I’m sure that in the days to come we’ll have some sort of BCC`13 recap that highlights some of the insanity that we just survived. It’d be lame of us not to give you such an insight. But right now, we have to get through the Monday Morning Commute!
That’s right, the weekend’s officially over and now it’s back to the tasks that put paper in our pockets. But as always, we have the MMC – the spot specifically set aside for sharin’ the strategies that’ll get us into the next weekend! Are you going to watch all of the Friday the 13th movies this week? Or is this finally the moment that you record your acoustic concept album about time-traveling so that you can save a young Michael Jackson from insanity? Oh, I know! Are you going to homebrew some beer and then drink it too early and then swear at the cat?!
How’re you planning to murder ennui?
I’ll get us started, but then hit up the comments section!
There’s no denyin’ that some creators are only interested in treadin’ water.
Once a successful formula has been stumbled upon – whether it’s a character arc, chord progression, or secret ingredient – it’s relied upon indefinitely. To some minds, there’s simply nothing wrong with rehashin’ the same material over and over and over again. In fact, some creators suggest that to stray too far from the tried and true is to do a great disservice, that the fans’re expectin’ something that resembles the work with which they originally fell in love.
These sorts of creative types grow like weeds in the comic book community. Think of how many careers have been made on the backs of characters created in previous decades. Again, some culpability may rest in the readership, which devours comics more for its comfort-food properties than its potential for innovation. But at the root of this issue is that there’s no shortage of creators who only want to relive past glories.
Fortunately, there’s always Warren Ellis.
Warren Ellis has the reputation of being a mind-pilot who of self-navigates the course of his own career. In addition to penning some of the most aspirational pieces in the comics medium (Planetary is just one example) and presaging scientific innovation (Spider Jerusalem was rockin’ Google Glass back in `97), Ellis has always made a point to explore other media forms. Most notably, Ellis has followed paths that have led to essays, novels, and television projects.
With this week’s release of Dead Pig Collector, Warren Ellis has given zero fucks unrelated to forward-thinking.