Weekend Open Bar: Outside Inside The Metaverse


Western Civilization seems to be flinging itself to pieces in 2016, friends. But unfortunately, Professor Faber, we can’t stand back from the Centrifuge. We’re stuffed inside it, together. It’s hard to believe, maybe it really isn’t happening, who knows. I live a Privileged Life, stuffed in a suburb in a leafy part of the Empire. It’s easy to believe, maybe it really is happening, as I work with students whose tales make me blanch, make me grateful, make wish I could do more. I don’t know. I know few things and understand even less. What I do know, what I do believe in, are what Vonnegut urged us to create. You know, I believe him when he said that the “daring thing is to create stable communities in which the terrible disease of loneliness can be cured“, and that is why Weekend Open Bar exists.

Across the two-dimensional plane of the three-dimensional Metaverse within one small speck of the omni-dimensional Universe, we can gather. Spend the Weekend together.

It’s small, and its minute, but it’s what we got. If we’re lucky.

A conjuring of a hopeful gathering sparred on by words and technologies and expressions.

It’s small, and its minute, but it’s what we got. If we’re lucky.

So join me, this Weekend, friends. Let’s shoot the shit about what we’re up to. The food we’re eating (so much goddamn pizza, so much goddamn ice cream), the games we’re playing (DOOM and The Last of Us), the books we’re reading (Nemesis Games). Anything and everything, really. Here aboard the Space-Ship Omega is an attempt at generating one of them communities. ‘Cause Space is cold, Life is Short, and it All seems to be better when spent with kind, like-minded individuals.

So join me this Weekend, friends.

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Monday Morning Commute: See Ya Later, Ya Leadfoots

space-ship omega

MondayMondayMonday Morning Commute! It’s the column!

It’s my one-year anniversary today, yo. The Wife and I. Dang hitched. I don’t feel much regarding it, though. Spoke about it with the better half, and we’re both like, you know. Shrug emoji. The date that sticks out to the both of us is our initial date. Feels more genuine than the $20,000+ back-patting we threw for…our parents a year ago.

I mean, don’t get me wrong.

It was a great night.

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Kelly Sue DeConnick and Matt Fraction adapting ‘Sex Criminals’ for TV, sign deal with Universal TV

Kelly Sue DeConnick and Matt Fraction

Holy fucking shit. Two of my favorite writers (and the First Family of Comic Creators as far as I am concerned) are not only adapting Fraction’s Sex Criminals for the small screen. They’ve also straight-up signed a two-year development deal with Universal TV.

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Weekend Open Bar: YAS YAS YAS


It’s the fucking weekend! It’s the fucking weekend! That means I don’t have to drive into the Frozen Hellscape that is Boston for two fucking days! It also means the Wife is returning from eight days of conferencing in San Francisco! Glory be to the highest, I’m so fucking ready for this weekend. And you should be too! Let’s celebrate together at the Open Bar! Drag a chair up next to me, consume your favorite chemicals, and share what you’re up to the next two days!

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Weekend Open Bar: From The Windows To The Walls


True story: last night the Wife and I went out to eat with an former professor of ours. I had two beers. Was completely rocked because I never drink. Got home. Ate three bagels while lå down on the coach and watching NHL Tonight. And then fell asleep. Which is to say, that’s why I haven’t opened the fucking bar yet! But here it is! Weekend Open Bar. The gathering point for the Degenerates that roam the halls of the Space-Ship Omega. Come one, come all! Hang out. Share what you’re up to this weekend. Ridicule me for being a lightweight when it comes to adult sodas! Commiserate with me about the fact that there is eighty-five hours of snowfall hitting New England.

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