…But At Least I Know The Difference Between Your And You’re.

(After finishing the latest issue of The Wake.)

Me:  (Looks at cover)  Oh, it’s Vertigo.
Also Me:  Why did you think it was Image?
Me:  I don’t know, because I’m stupid?
Also Me:  Well…you said it.
Me:  Yeah, but you implied it.
Also Me:  Don’t you mean I inferred it?  You’re probably too stupid to know the difference between inferred and implied.
Me:  Shut up.
Also Me:  You shut up.
Other Also Me:  Both of you shut up.

(And yes, this post does indicate that I’ve resolved my keyboard issue, so my postings will resume their regular irregularity.)

Nothing Makes Sense

Present-Day Jon:  Hello, Jon.

Past Jon:   Who are you?

PDJ:  I’m you from the future.

PJ:  Huh.  I thought I’d be taller.

PDJ:  Yeah, I know.  What was your basis for thinking that?

PJ:  I don’t know.  I guess I just wanted to be taller.

PDJ:  Join the club.  Oh, wait.  You founded the club.

PJ:  So why are you here?  Trying to prevent me from making some huge mistake that results in my life not turning out the way it was supposed to?

PDJ:  Pfft, no.  I wouldn’t even know where to begin with that.  You pretty much get everything fractally wrong.

PJ:  What does fractally mean?

PDJ:  Never mind.  I just wanted to say that all the stuff you thought would happen?  It pretty much won’t.  But more to the point, one thing that you never thought would happen will actually happen.

PJ:  What?

PDJ:  One day you’ll draw a really good picture of The Creeper.

PJ:  …The Creeper?  The comic book character?

PDJ:  The very same.

PJ:  But…why?  Why would I even bother?  I mean, I’ve seriously never thought about doing that.

PDJ:  That’s my point.

PJ:  Not Batman, or Superman, or...or Nightwing?  Starfire, maybe.  Mmm, Starfire…

PDJ:  Nope.  The Creeper.  See?

(Plus I pretty much did the entire thing in Illustrator, which makes it that much more baffling.)

PJ:  Wow, that is really good.  I did that?

PDJ:  Yeah.

PJ:  That doesn’t make any sense.

PDJ:  Tell me about it.  I feel like nothing makes sense anymore.

PJ:  So I did that because I’m, like, a famous comic book artist or something?  I draw something with The Creeper in it?

PDJ:  …yeah, sure.  Just keep telling yourself that if you think it will help.

PJ:  What is that thing, anyway?  Some kind of pocket computer?

PDJ:  More or less.  It’s called a smartphone.

PJ:  So there are all kinds of cool science fiction gadgets in the future?

PDJ:  Ehh…yeeaaahhh, but nothing like warp drives or teleporters or whatever.  We don’t even have any off-world colonies.

PJ:  Oh.  But you have time travel, right?  I mean, that’s how you’re here.

PDJ:  No.  I’m not actually here.  This is just a blog post.

PJ:  What’s a blog?

PDJ:  It doesn’t matter.  I mean, seriously, in the case of my blog, it really doesn’t matter.

PJ:  So that’s it, then?

PDJ:  I suppose so.  Drawing that picture kind of shattered my worldview.  I mean, it just seems so pointless to have done such a good job drawing something I really don't care about all that much, given how the things I actually care about turn out, so I felt like I needed to retroactively spread the existential terror out across my entire life.

PJ:  Existential?

PDJ:  Oh, just look it up in…well, in whatever it was you used for that kind of thing before Google.  And don’t ask me what Google is.

PJ:  Okay.  But…it was just the thing about The Creeper?  There’s nothing else you can tell me?

PDJ:  Hm.  Well, okay.  (Clears throat.  Makes important-sounding pronouncement.)  "She will never feel the same way about you as you feel about her."

PJ:  Who won’t feel the same way about me?

PDJ:  Whoever.   Take your pick.

PJ:  That’s…that not exactly inspiring.

PDJ:  It wasn’t meant to be.  Welcome to the rest of your life.

PJ:  Gee, thanks.

PDJ:  Don’t mention it.  Anyway, remember:  “Beware…The Creeper!”

PJ:  Wow.

PDJ:  Yeah, sorry.  I couldn’t resist.

Brain Games

On Sunday I was flipping through the channels and landed upon a movie already underway that, for some reason, prompted me to hit the “Info” button on the remote to pull up the detailed information about when it was made and who was in it.
After doing so, I saw the name of the lead actor and found that it seemed familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.  I watched a few minutes of the movie after that, but seeing the name that went with the face didn’t spark any additional recognition.
I wasn’t interested enough to give it much more thought, or to look the actor up on IMDb, and after watching those few minutes I turned the TV off and got back to engaging in the marathon session of doing nothing in particular that had been taking place all weekend.
When I say that I wasn’t interested enough to give it much more thought, I, apparently, mean conscious thought, given that sometime Thursday morning, as I paused between sets of leg extensions, I discovered that my brain had, in the background, been mulling over the problem.

Brain:  Watchmen.
Me:  What?
Brain:  That guy.  In that movie the other day.  Matthew Goode.
Me:  I don’t…what?
Brain:  That guy, Matthew Goode.  You recognized his name.  He played Ozymandias in Watchmen.
Me:  Oh, right.
Brain:  So now you know.
Me;  I guess so.
Brain:  Well?
Me:  Well what?
Brain:  Aren’t you, you know, going to praise me or whatever?  For figuring it out?
Me:  Umm…well, good job, I guess, but honestly, I didn’t really care that much to begin with.
Brain:  (Petulantly)  But I figured it out.
Me:  So you did.  Nicely done.
Brain:  Thank you.
(Pause)
Me:  Wait…what movie did I just see him in?
Brain:  …
Me:  Oh, well that’s just great.  Good fucking job, Einstein.  Now you’ll be churning away trying to figure that out, and then by the time you finally do remember the movie, I’ll have forgotten that the guy who played Ozymandias was in it and why I was thinking about it in the first place and we’ll start this whole fucking thing all over again, won’t we?

Forestalling the inevitable waste of background processing resources, I opted to look it up on IMDb.  It was the 2008 version of Brideshead Revisited.  The reason I had watched any of it at all was that I had tuned in during a scene in which actress Hayley Atwell – Agent Carter from Captain America:  The First Avenger – was wearing a dress that obviously wasn’t going to be worn for much longer.  That was enough to keep me around for a little while, even if it was on broadcast TV, which meant that I wouldn’t see much of her post-dress appearance.

****

When I told Scott about the above, I got “Cool story, bro” in response.

****

I was talking to Scott about the time I spent in the Upward Bound program as a high school student and recent high school graduate.  Specifically, I was talking about one of the awards banquets held at the end of one of the summer sessions in which one of the instructors in naming that year’s “top student” for the class actually stressed how well the honoree had performed by saying, “She even managed to beat Jon Maki.”

Scott:  Heh.  You were the bar.
Me:  Yeah.
Scott:  So what happened to you?
Me:  The bar.

****

Boss:  Yeah, you’re probably right.
Me:  Of course I am.  I told you:  Biggest brain is BEST brain.

Jon And I Don’t Get Along Part 9,567

(Getting ready for work the other morning, I decided I should bring the power cord and docking station for the tablet with me to work.)
Me:  I should buy another docking station so that I can have one at home and one at work.
Also Me:  Then fucking do it, tough guy.
Me:  Maybe I will.
Also Me:  Maybe you should.
Me:  Maybe you should kiss my ass.
Also Me:  Maybe I will…after I kick it.

****

(E-mail exchange with the boss)
Boss:  Remember that your weekly accomplishments are due by COB today.
Me:  They were due by COB yesterday, and I already provided mine.
Boss:  Shut up.
Me:  You should set up an Outlook Rule that automatically replies to every e-mail from me with a message telling me to shut up, or calling me an idiot, or both.
Boss:  Good idea.
Me:  Of course, I would actually have to set it up for you.
Boss:  True.

****

I’ve got three weeks of the “Captain America Workout” out of the way, with one more to go.
I don’t think I’ll be beating up any Nazis or taking on Ultron anytime soon, but I have made some substantial, noticeable gains in terms of muscle mass.  My shoulders and chest are visibly larger and more defined, and the scale tells me that I’ve gained nine pounds.
Of course, the scale also tells me that I’ve experienced a 4% increase in body fat, as if to say, “Who are you going to believe?  Me, or your lying eyes?”
Given that losing 45 pounds only represented a 6% decrease in body fat (per the same scale), it seems unlikely that I’ve gone up by almost that much by putting on a fifth of that.  I mean, even if it were nine pounds of fat, which, given the way I look and feel (and the way my clothes fit), it’s clear that it isn’t fat, I can’t see how I could possibly have jumped up that much.

****

So it turns out that I was correct when I said that it would not be Superman (or Batman) that DC outed as its most prominent gay character, but I was also incorrect when I speculated that it would be Wonder Woman.
I was closer to the mark when I used Jay Garrick as an example of a prominent (to comic fans) character, as it turns out that newly-outed gay character is Alan Scott, the original Green Lantern.  (Not the one portrayed by Ryan Reynolds in the recent GL movie)
To be fair, while I didn’t mention him, I had actually considered the possibility.
To be even more fair, at the time of my speculation, I wasn’t aware that DC had explicitly stated that 1. It was a male character and 2. It was a character who had not yet made an appearance in any of the New 52 titles.
Had I known those things, my suspicion that it would be Alan Scott would have been worth mentioning.
As it is, I never got back to the subject, as I was distracted by other things, and, really, my speculation as to how it could be Superman (kinda-sorta) after all, turns out to be irrelevant anyway, though ultimately, had DC gone that route, the net effect would have been the same (alternate universe, basically).
You can read more about Alan, and the outing here.  I have to say that, within the context of the New 52, the rationale for choosing Alan makes a fair amount of sense.
I have, as noted, no objection to making Alan (or any character, really) gay, but while I understand that comics are a business, I’m a little annoyed (though not surprised) by the “stunt” aspect of it.
Further, while I think that adding characters who represent the diversity of real life is a good thing, ultimately, this isn’t really a net gain, given that a pre-existing gay character has been lost.
So overall, it’s kind of a push.

Muscle Memory

(While resting in the midst of a dumbbell fly set)
Me:  (To my muscles)  Look, I don't want to do this any more than you do, but the fact is, we're doing it.  So just suck it up and get through it, and then you can go back to not growing or getting any stronger as a result of this wasted effort.  Deal?
...
So that's kind of the thing.  Increasingly, I begin to suspect that when I recover from a workout, that's literally all I'm doing:  recovering.  As in, getting back to exactly where I was before I started the workout.
All I'm really doing is providing a minor inconvenience to my muscles, which gives them an excuse to ache for a little while before just getting back to normal (or slightly less than normal).
The term "Sisyphean" comes to mind...
Of course, it's pretty well applicable to most other aspects of my life beyond my attempts at getting into better shape...

Keeping Myself Entertained Or Losing My Mind?

Sometimes when I’m stuck in traffic I look at the other drivers and imagine the conversations they’re having with their passengers or the people they’re talking to on their phones.  Actually, it isn’t so much that I imagine them as that I actually have them, out loud, with myself.

I’m particularly fond of doing this whenever I spot senior citizens on the road.

It’s worth noting that, despite the fact that I live in what is technically a Southern state, and regardless of their ethnicity, my “old people talking” voice is a cartoonish version of the stereotypical Minnesota accent.  I don’t know why that is, other than that it just somehow makes things funnier, because, honestly, how could it not?

For example:

(Jon, stopped at a red light, notices an elderly couple in the car ahead of him.)

“It doesn’t even matter to me what the Bible says; I just plain don’t like the gays.”
“Well, you know, Harriet Johnson’s oldest boy, he’s got the gay.”
”Oh no!  Butcha know, that Harriet, she always did coddle that boy.”
”Yah.”

Of course, I don’t actually limit myself to providing dialogue for the people who are actually talking; I like to put into words what other drivers’ actions are saying.  For example, my go-to phrase whenever some leadfoot comes shooting past me is, “I am Barry Godddamn Allen!  I am the Fastest Man Alive!”

I also imagine that the people who fail to respond to a light turning green are desperately lonely and needy people.  “Aw guys, come on, where are you going?  Can’t we all just hang out here for a while longer?  It’s so cozy!  We can sing songs, tell ghost stories, make s’mores, and – hey, come back!  Guys?  Guys?”

In any case, on the drive home from work today I found myself going beyond the realm of idly passing the time and into the borderlands of sanity itself, as I had a sustained conversation with an imaginary driver who represented the general behavior of most everyone else on the road (and also had something of a speech impediment).

“I don’t shee why everyonesh in shuch a hurry.  Why not take the time to enjoy the shcenery?  Shtop and shmell the roshes?”
There are no roses.  And what scenery?
”Well, there’sh…shome treesh…houshes…that Walgreensh looksh nice, and that conshtruction equipment ish kinda neat…you can shee where the old road hash been torn up…”
Yeah, it’s a wonder to behold.  Truly there are miracles all around us if only we’d open our eyes to see them.  My god, that office complex is transcendent.  Now can you just speed it the hell up?
”Shlow down, turbo.  You’re the one who makesh fun of the people who go really fasht with that blashphemoush expression.”
Those people are being just a ridiculous as you are, just in the opposite way.  There’s nothing wrong with driving at a reasonable speed.  You know, somewhere within spitting distance of the speed limit?
”Ish that shpitting comment shome kind of dig on the way I talk?  Are you telling me shay it don’t shpray it?”
What?  No it’s just – look, quit trying to distract me.  The goddamn light is green.  Go, for fuck’s sake!
”You don’t have to shwear like that.”
Clearly I do.  I wouldn’t have to if you’d stop trying to smell the nonexistent goddamn roses and pay attention to the lights.
”Quit shwearing!”
(Mutters)
”What wash that?”
Nothing.  Look, I just want to get home, okay?  It’s been a long day, I’ve got an even longer day ahead of me tomorrow, I’m tired, and I just want to go home.  That doesn’t seem like too much to ask.
”Why are you shuch a rush to get home?  It'sh not like theresh anyone there waiting for you.”
So?  It’s home.  It’s where my bed is, it’s where I feel comfortable, and, most importantly, it’s not here.
”You should get a dog.  Then you could have shomeone who would be excited about you being home.”
I don’t need a dog for that; I’m excited about me being home.
”But a dog would wag hish tail and jump all over you and be all happy.”
That has zero appeal to me.  Besides, I’m allergic.
”You could get one of thoshe hyp-hypo-hypnoalergic dogsh.”
Hypoallergenic.  And I don’t want one of those, either.
”What about a cat?”
Go fuck yourself.

This seriously went on for like fifteen minutes.  I’d be a little more concerned about my sanity, but honestly, when I’m in traffic, I have no sanity to be concerned about.

Saturday Is Fryday

First, off, no, I'm not going to subject anyone to anything Rebecca Black-related - though I have to admit that she and her horrible, horrible song have managed to bore a hole into my consciousness and have taken up residence there - as the title of this post relates to Philip J. Fry of Futurama.

(And if you don't know who/what Rebecca Black is, consider yourself fortunate...though really, it's only a matter of time. She is inevitable.)

I'm specifically thinking of the iPhone parody episode in which Fry, when having the limitations of the "eyephone" explained to him, tells the store employee, "Shut up and take my money!"

I've been feeling like saying that a lot lately, as it seems that most of the stores I go to have no interest in taking my money, in that they're unwilling to sell things that I want to buy.

Target, is of course, the worst, as they will initially sell something - specifically diabetic-friendly products - I'll buy it, like it, resolve to buy it again, and then go back only to find that they've discontinued it.

(It happens with a lot of things, but the sugar-free and otherwise diabetic-friendly products seem to be the most egregious examples, to the point that I actually kind of feel as though I'm being discriminated against. Not in a "The Universe is out to get me" sort of way, but as in, "Target has no interest in marketing products to diabetics.. Take your filthy, insulin-resistant money elsewhere.")

It's also been happening a lot at Best Buy, as I go there pretty regularly and walk out empty-handed because there's nothing there that I have any particular interest in buying. It's annoying, because there are a lot of things that they could be selling that I would buy, but they just don't.

For example, I've been kind of going back and forth about buying an Asus Eee Slate - a Windows-based tablet computer - to replace my current laptop. It's kind of a compelling product; thin and light, with all the functionality of a full-fledged laptop, with the added advantage that the touch screen is made by Wacom, the company that makes the Cintiq, so I would be able to enjoy the same functionality for drawing on the go - or at least in my living room - as I have at my desktop.

The problem is that most of the online retailers selling it don't seem to have it in stock, and very few brick-and-mortar retailers are selling it.

Best Buy, for example. At least, Best Buy in America; Best Buy Canada carries it.

While I've been going back and forth about placing an order from an online retailer - sometimes I think "I'm going to do it!" then decide "Well, maybe I'll wait and see." - and just waiting for it to, eventually, be restocked and shipped, if I could walk into a physical store and pick one up, I would do so without hesitation. Best Buy America: Y U No Want My Money?

Earlier today, while my main system was tied up doing something, I got online on Munin and, for the hell of it, decided to see if Micro Center was one of the retailers selling the Eee Slate.

Turns out that they are, and the one in Fairfax had it in stock.

So I got in the car, made the drive to Fairfax, found the display model, played around with it and was pleased to discover that it was even lighter and thinner than I'd expected - I've seen the specs, but that's not the same as actually handling the thing - and looked around for someone who was willing to take my money.

(It's a truism that the employees who are constantly harassing you with their offers of assistance when you're just looking are never around when you actually do need assistance.)

Finally, someone became available and I told him that I wanted him to take my money. He went to a computer to do a check to see if they had any in stock.

They didn't. In fact, they had only received the one that was on display, which wasn't actually for sale.

...

So, yeah. They got a single Eee Slate for display purposes only, just so that they could say, "Hey, look at this cool thing that we're not going to sell you!"

On the plus side, as I wandered around the store dejectedly after that, I did get a chance to see what my new computer is going to look like, as they sell the case that I selected - presumably they have more than one in stock - so it was kind of like a sneak preview. (Note: That thing is huge.)

On my way out of the store I saw this magazine that someone had apparently brought up to the register and then decided not to to buy. It was a magazine about digital art - specifically science fiction and fantasy art - and had a special focus on comic books. The cover story was a feature on Adam Hughes - the magazine caught my eye because it featured a picture of Catwoman done by AH! on the cover -engaging in a step-by-step demonstration of his artistic process.

Finally, something to spend money on!

(The magazine was an import, so it was surprisingly pricey.)

Of course, because they hadn't annoyed me enough by only having a display model Eee Slate in stock, causing me to (mostly) waste my time by driving there, they had to pull that Radio Shack nonsense of asking for my name (since I was paying with cash).

When asked for my name, I angrily responded, "What for? Why do you need my name in order to sell me a magazine and a Diet Pepsi?" but when the guy looked at me helplessly, I went with "John Smith."

However, I should have have said, "Last name Take My Money, first name Shut Up And."

****

Earlier in the day I managed to spend a little money at Staples. I've been looking to pick up this new 1080p webcam from Microsoft that I've been seeing around because...well, I'm not sure about the because. I don't have that much use for a webcam. I guess I've been looking to get it because it's shiny. Of course, the first time I saw it, and decided against buying it, it was $30 cheaper than what it was each subsequent time I looked at it.

On sale for $25 off at Staples? Check.

Jon decided to buy it? Check.

On sale for $30 off at Best Buy? Check.

Jon too lazy to return it to Staples/do a competitive price guarantee thing? Check.

*****

A Conversation With Myself

Me: We should do the laundry today when we get home rather than doing it tomorrow.

Also Me: Why?

Me: I don't know. Just to shake up the routine a little, I guess. Besides, it'll be one less thing we'll have to do tomorrow.

Also Me: Yes, but it will be one more thing we have to do today.

Me: Good point.

Early Morning Internal Conversation

I went to bed really early last night, and as a consequence woke up really early this morning. That wasn't actually the plan; the plan was to go to bed really early and sleep for a long, long time.
Because I had the flu last week - and have been dealing with some lingering effects - it had been more than a week since I'd gotten up early and did my time on the elliptical machine. On Monday and Tuesday of this week I'd "slept in" until the point at which under what had recently been normal circumstances I would just be finishing up with my workout and getting into the shower.
In any case, today I woke up about an hour earlier than I do when I am hitting the elliptical (which puts it just shy of two hours earlier than when I've been getting up this week).
Having time to kill, I thought, "Maybe I should try to get back into the swing of things."
This notion sparked an internal debate between the three of me.*

Me: Well, it's been over a week. I probably really should do it.
Also Me: Meh.
Me3: Yes, you should!
Also Me: But I feel pretty stiff and sore.
Me: Maybe getting moving will loosen me up a little and I'll actually feel better.
Me3: Well, you'll certainly feel better about yourself!
Me and Also Me: Shut the fuck up!

Ultimately, Me and Me3 - despite the fact that Me agrees with Also Me that Me3 is a little goody two-shoes nerd - won out, and so the three of me got onto the elliptical machine and promptly totally overdid it.
Put in over an hour and burned more than 800 calories. We were pretty well wiped out after that.

*There are at least three versions of myself kicking around in my head. There are more, but they aren't as outspoken as the main three, and sometimes their existence is fleeting. I suppose that in terms of their characteristics they map reasonably well to the Id, Ego, and Superego.
They don't really seem to like each other very much, and there's a very thin and brittle veneer of civility that exists between them, though sometimes two of them will form uneasy alliances with each other against the third.
It's worth noting, as can be seen above, that the pronoun by which I refer to myself in these internal exhcanges often varies. Sometimes it's "I" or "me," other times it's "you," and still other times - usually on those rare occasions when there is consensus - it will be "we" or "us." It's also worth noting that I'm totally not kidding. I really do have these kinds of exchanges with myself. Sometimes out loud.