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Tycho / on Mon, Dec 22 2014 at 10:07 am

After we watched this unboxing video, I think that Gabriel was utterly convinced that he wanted to unbox Anki Drive, if nothing else.

When the shit showed up at the office, flanked by various accoutrements, the electronic racing equivalent of bannermen, and addnl. dork fetish gear, I tried my best to get him to open them at that very moment because that is how I enjoy myself.  But he wouldn’t do it.  And not because he didn’t want to.  He loves gadgets.  None of that shit is for anybody but him!  It’s all his stuff.  He’d have bought it all if he didn’t have kids.  No, no.  He was, like, edging these cars or something.

He was engaging in erotic car denial. 

I need him to open this stuff because I can’t really execute on that stuff the way he can, just…  constitutionally, but also because it wouldn’t matter if I did.  There is no present that would not please my daughter, and there is no present that would please my son.  If I kneel down and pick a dandelion for Ronia, she’ll put it in her hair and preen and be fairy or whatever.  If I gave my son a gold bar, he wouldn’t know where to put it.  Pockets - front or back - are not up to the task.  Eventually I would be asked to hold the Gold Bar and within fifteen minutes he will have forgotten it exists.  So it’s hard to pull this trick at my house, because a gum wrapper would please one of them and the other doesn’t have the receptors for pleasure.

So buying this stuff would be an incredibly transparent ploy that would ultimately result in my playing with this stuff by myself, at night, in a cold garage.  It’s like a relief map of desire; the children are drained away.  All that remains is my own desperate, incalculable need for lego sets from the Lego Movie.  The last sentence of this post was originally just the word “lego” in all caps anywhere from seven to twelve times.  I have scrupulously refrained.

(CW)TB out.

Tycho / on Fri, Dec 19 2014 at 10:55 am

So he didn’t get it done.  It was me; it was just me.

There are two places you can have your junk turned into Venetian blinds that have very similar names, and I always went to the wrong URL whenever I was trying to “bone up” on what I needed to know.  One of these two offers Valium to those in its care, and one does not.  So I was nervous, but under the misconception that a fear obliterating chemical was en route, which kept things at a low boil.

There was a portion at the beginning where a woman came in to ask me all of the questions I had answered on the questionnaire, but a second time, just to make sure.  I tried to be as personable as possible, a great expenditure of energy, but it was okay because I only had to remain human long enough for someone to put drugs in my mouth.  Then, whatever addled shamanic “wisdom” issued forth at that point had to be endured by all parties.  But this wasn’t the place that had the Valium.

While I was processing that the doctor came in and asked me all the questions from the questionnaire a third time, so that I was good and ready.  I know what’s happening, yes.  I made the appointment.  This is a vasectomy clinic.  I understand that this is not a hot dog stand and that no hot dogs will be forthcoming.

This doctor prides himself on not using scalpels or needles, which to me is, like the bare minimum.  I didn’t even know that shit was on the table.  I can imagine his competitors trudging away from their empty practices in the snow, their Garden Weasels clawing a trench behind them.  How did they do this shit before?  Did they just put some peanut butter on your balls, and let a wolf eat them?

Now, he uses a Hypo, like they do in Star Trek, but they use it on a place I never saw them use it on the show.  Except it didn’t take?  I have this problem where they have to give me more of whatever they give to another person to make pain go away, and I said so.  So I thought it was cool, but all of the sudden it wasn’t cool; I would say that it is the least cool thing that has ever happened.  And know what it feels like to have a pair of wire cutters digging in the nail-bed of my big toe, which was the last time I thought it was enough medicine.  I started talking about PAX in a staccato, shocky way.  I said that PAX South might be the first show that stays in its original location.  For real.  I said that.

There was a fish mobile in the corner of the room, and the top part - the part the fish hang from - was two triangles overlapping, the Star of David.  I stared at it so long, and so hard, that I became a Jew.

When he was almost done, he was all like, “Last Chance!” and “Hey, Do You Want to See Your Vas Deferens” and I was like are you fucking kidding me with this shit.  Maybe there’s somebody that is down with that, in the way that one may be down with the clown.  Maybe they’re like, God Damn, fish that thing out and let’s take a good hard look.  But because of the fuckup with the medicine, I felt like I knew everything there was to know at an unparalleled resolution.  There’s nothing about it that I don’t know, actually.  I could enhance literally any quadrant.

So I learned too much, and now you know too much.  I couldn’t do it by myself; I can’t be the only one who knows.

(CW)TB out.

Tycho / on Wed, Dec 17 2014 at 11:25 am

It’s fun to sit on ice.

The original plan, hazily enunciated, was to have Robert, Mike, and myself all enter the same abattoir and have them done all at once, like what happens when there is a Salon Excursion where ladies might roll deep and nails are buffed to a gleam.  The number of participants is really the only commonality, now that I think of it.  The Venn Diagram is very sparse in the middle; there is only a tiny sliver of conceptual overlap, vanishingly small.

Steam removed a Greenlight game for content reasons and then reversed their decision more or less in the space of a day.  Every twitch of this game has been covered breathlessly by a media which has claimed at each juncture that the game is a vile affront, which has only raised its stature.  If it were truly their intention to exile the game, they are the ones with the power to do so; as we have seen, when they want to exile a story, they are more than capable of it.  But what they have done instead is to perform this morality play for clicks because that is what they do, even when it is in contradiction of their stated aims.   

I don’t care about this specific game.  You will see it named nowhere in the piece.  But I care with great intensity about the weaknesses it exposes in our systems.

You will go crazy if you try to find a coherent rationale when it comes to these mediastorms.  There is no solid beam anywhere in the lattice structure.  If it’s bad for [entity.speaker] it’s bad, and if it’s good for them, it’s good.  If it’s bad for their opponents, it’s good, and if it’s good for their opponents, it’s bad.  It’s not political in the classic sense, the bright, legible two-party distinction which has lost some prescriptive power, though it certainly has political ramifications.  The idea that you can believe in a culture strong enough to accept all comers without personally subscribing to the worst ideas of humanity used to be a thing.  Remember when it was a thing?  It’s like we’ve been playing this rhetorical game so long that all the pieces are now on the opposite sides.  And we start again.

Removal from Steam is not removal from Target or K-Mart.  I want to make this point very clear: like the metaphor in the introduction, there is only a slight overlap.  It reminds me of the thing with Rap Genius, where they were perceived as manipulating traffic and Google essentially kicked them off the fucking Internet.  Steam is not “a” store, Steam is “the” store.  It cannot be a zone where this kind of prescription and paternalism takes place.  When the next war comes, when they hear their own arguments to constrain wild culture thrown back in their face, I trust they will manage it with grace and equanimity.

(CW)TB out.

Tycho / on Mon, Dec 15 2014 at 11:35 am

“Ripped from the headlines” is what we call a strip that actually deals with our own, real shit.  Technically speaking, even when they’re buried beneath irony and voiced by interlopers, it’s still our shit.  I suppose it depends on the mix of fact and embroidery of said fact.  To mercifully bisect a short story threatening to be a long one, this is about as real as it gets.

I’ll tell you all about it on Friday.  It was a thing.

I spent a lot of time sitting this weekend sitting on ice and watching The Flash.  One of the things that makes the show so great is nothing ever seems to happen to anyone’s penis.  There isn’t a meta-human (at least, in the last half of the first season) that does anything like that.  So it was a respite.

Committing to new shows is…  I was going to say it was hard, but it’s not hard.  It doesn’t happen unless it is (apparently) a British show about the changing roles of women.  Those are always finding their way into the rotation somehow.  But even in a continuum of impossibility a television show based on the exploits of gentlemen from the funny books is the least possible outcome.  But… I don’t know.  I think this actually works.  Hulu would only let me watch the last five, so maybe I missed the early days, backseat bra fumbling which makes it hard to endure shows of this kind.  I started with 5, and you can too.  It’s like those late night offers for marvelous spatulas, I suppose: If you like it, you can keep it.

One of the best ones was a crossover with Arrow, a show I watched for ten minutes and then had to be taken to the hospital with a case of Bad Show Disease (BSD).  Was I just wrong?  Do I need to watch Arrow, too?  It’s one of those things where I don’t know if I’m being open minded or I’m just a mark.  Sometimes you have to allow for the possibility of the latter to truly manifest the former.

Robert and Mike are both out of town on vacation, though if you have the sorts of jobs they have (which is to say, “those which occur largely in the mind”) you can never really escape it.  I can’t actually relax on vacation generally until the end of it, when its time to go back.  For a long time I thought it just took me a while to get into the right mode, but I don’t think that’s it anymore.  I relax because I’m coming back home.  I don’t need “rest,” I need to do what I was meant to do.  And what I’m meant to do is to talk to you.

(CW)TB out.

Gabe / on Sat, Dec 13 2014 at 10:14 am


We’ve got some new stuff in the store I wanted to point out.

Obama Tee

This is Gavin’s latest design and I think it’s pretty funny.

Obama Hoodie

We’re using a really awesome new hoodie for this design. Check it out:

Convenient thumb hole!

Awesome headphone hole and special phone pocket.

Sexy white zipper and draw strings.

Silverside Print Pack

The entire Silverside series collected in one easy to buy package!

It’s also worth noting that the First Party sale is still in effect. We also still have Dungeon Mistress prints and Christmas pins available.

-Gabe out


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