The final issue of the Helm is finally out! What did you think? Liked it? Hated it? I'd love any feedback anybody wants to send my way, positive or negative. Email me, or post your thoughts, feelings or questions here. Either way.
Here's a sample question--similar to something an actual reader of the Helm might post:
Jim. What the hell were you thinking?
Yours, Don Bumbernicker
And a sample answer to show how I'll probably respond to an actual comment from a real person:
Don, I have no idea.
Yours, Jim
So, go ahead and comment! Don't be shy! I can tell from my Google analytics that at least two people have read this blog and one guy from the Ukraine has looked at it by accident. If those three people were to comment, that would be FOUR comments (including my fake one). Four comments and only one of them fake! That would be something.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
The Exciting Conclusion!!
The final installment of the Helm comes out tomorrow! Writing the series has been a strange, fun ride! I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who read the series, to all the wonderful folks who sent letters and comments and especially to all the people who made the book possible.
Sara Kaine, who introduced me to Dark Horse
Dave Land, my excellent and wise editor
Bart Sears, the awesome breakdown artist of the series and a huge part of the Helm's draw (no pun intended)
Randy Elliott, magnificent finisher (what a great job title)
Dan Jackson, superior and tasteful Colorer
Dave Lanphear, master of letters
Katie Moody, erudite Associate Editor
Josh Elliot, stylish Designer
Patrick Thorpe, essential Assistant Editor
Jacquelene Cohen, gregarious Publicity Coordinator
Dirk Wood, rockstar Marketing Director
Mike Richardson, white haired giant and lord of Dark Horse Comics
All the folks I haven't met who make Dark Horse run
Maria, Clara and Eleanor--who keep me going
And Janet--who made me want to write in the first place.
Thanks everybody, it's been fun. Now all I have to write about is the coming trade paperback version. Look for it in April of 2009!!
Sara Kaine, who introduced me to Dark Horse
Dave Land, my excellent and wise editor
Bart Sears, the awesome breakdown artist of the series and a huge part of the Helm's draw (no pun intended)
Randy Elliott, magnificent finisher (what a great job title)
Dan Jackson, superior and tasteful Colorer
Dave Lanphear, master of letters
Katie Moody, erudite Associate Editor
Josh Elliot, stylish Designer
Patrick Thorpe, essential Assistant Editor
Jacquelene Cohen, gregarious Publicity Coordinator
Dirk Wood, rockstar Marketing Director
Mike Richardson, white haired giant and lord of Dark Horse Comics
All the folks I haven't met who make Dark Horse run
Maria, Clara and Eleanor--who keep me going
And Janet--who made me want to write in the first place.
Thanks everybody, it's been fun. Now all I have to write about is the coming trade paperback version. Look for it in April of 2009!!
Friday, November 14, 2008
Baby Alligators, Toilet Seats and the Helm #4
I was just in Miami and saw a wild baby alligator in a lagoon. Not that it was particularly impressive or anything, but alligators are deadly creatures and I don't expect to see them swimming around outside of high rise office complexes. That would be like seeing a wild baby tiger running around in the mall, or having a baby great white shark bite your foot while sitting at a public fountain.
Okay, maybe not exactly.
Anyway, I was standing in the bathroom at work, thinking about baby alligators, when it suddenly occurred to me that the toilet seat was U-shaped rather than a complete oval. Now, I've seen this particular toilet seat hundreds of times over the last several years and never really noticed how it was U-shaped rather than oval, but for some reason, it registered this time. Which got me wondering why some toilet seats are U-shaped and others are oval. As I thought about it, it occurred to me that I mostly saw U-shaped toilet seats in public restrooms and mostly ovals at people's houses. So, my first thought was that the U-shaped seats were probably cheaper to make and consequently more attractive to the folks putting together public bathrooms. A quick survey of a handful of public restrooms revealed that ALL of them had U-shaped toilet seats--even one in a really expensive and upscale restaurant. That made me question the validity of my "cheapest option" conclusion. So, I did a little Internet research and discovered that United States plumbing code specifies that public restrooms have to used "open front" toilet seats! Yes! It's the law!! But why?
Well, apparently, they are considered both more sanitary and more comfortable. I'm not sure exactly how the sanitary thing works out--especially in women's public restrooms--nor am I really clear on how the comfortable thing works out--but those are the given reasons.
Anyway, while researching the issue, I stumbled across a site with details of the first time a toilet was ever shown on American broadcast television. It was on what was supposed to be the first episode of Leave it to Beaver, "Captain Jack." The episode actually got shelved for a while by the censors who refused to let a toilet be depicted on television. It aired after they compromised by shooting a single tight shot of the tank only. And why was a toilet part of the story at all? Well, the plot involved Wally and the Beaver trying to hide a BABY ALLIGATOR from their parents by keeping it in their toilet tank.
That's right, a baby alligator! Holy crap!! Too much for coincidence.
Oh, and the Helm #4 comes out next Wednesday! No alligators, no U-shaped toilet seats, no episodes of Leave it to Beaver, but it is the exciting conclusion of the mini-series! Be sure to check it out.
Okay, maybe not exactly.
Anyway, I was standing in the bathroom at work, thinking about baby alligators, when it suddenly occurred to me that the toilet seat was U-shaped rather than a complete oval. Now, I've seen this particular toilet seat hundreds of times over the last several years and never really noticed how it was U-shaped rather than oval, but for some reason, it registered this time. Which got me wondering why some toilet seats are U-shaped and others are oval. As I thought about it, it occurred to me that I mostly saw U-shaped toilet seats in public restrooms and mostly ovals at people's houses. So, my first thought was that the U-shaped seats were probably cheaper to make and consequently more attractive to the folks putting together public bathrooms. A quick survey of a handful of public restrooms revealed that ALL of them had U-shaped toilet seats--even one in a really expensive and upscale restaurant. That made me question the validity of my "cheapest option" conclusion. So, I did a little Internet research and discovered that United States plumbing code specifies that public restrooms have to used "open front" toilet seats! Yes! It's the law!! But why?
Well, apparently, they are considered both more sanitary and more comfortable. I'm not sure exactly how the sanitary thing works out--especially in women's public restrooms--nor am I really clear on how the comfortable thing works out--but those are the given reasons.
Anyway, while researching the issue, I stumbled across a site with details of the first time a toilet was ever shown on American broadcast television. It was on what was supposed to be the first episode of Leave it to Beaver, "Captain Jack." The episode actually got shelved for a while by the censors who refused to let a toilet be depicted on television. It aired after they compromised by shooting a single tight shot of the tank only. And why was a toilet part of the story at all? Well, the plot involved Wally and the Beaver trying to hide a BABY ALLIGATOR from their parents by keeping it in their toilet tank.
That's right, a baby alligator! Holy crap!! Too much for coincidence.
Oh, and the Helm #4 comes out next Wednesday! No alligators, no U-shaped toilet seats, no episodes of Leave it to Beaver, but it is the exciting conclusion of the mini-series! Be sure to check it out.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Mi Amiga, mi amor
Amiga computers changed my life.
Back in 1990, I was an aspiring filmmaker--fresh out of film school and working on a super-low-budget feature film. Then I ran out of money and decided to do freelance work to continue financing the feature. I probably would have continued with that route except that one day, while driving through Aurora, Illinois, I happened to take a wrong turn and pass a sign that said, "Computers for Video!"
The sign was advertising a place (Microtech Computers) that sold Amiga computers with Video Toasters. After stopping in for an impromptu demo of the editing capabilities, I reformulated my plans and wound up starting my own production company. Although the initial plan was just to do live action production, the Toaster came with a 3-D animation program called Lightwave. I'd minored in animation, so I started messing around with the 3-D animation features just because they were there and free. Two years later, more than half of the work my company was doing was computer animation--all of it programmed and rendered on Amigas.
Ah, how I loved my Amigas. They seemed like they were only about 30% scientific machine and the rest was just magic. You couldn't always tell when or how they were going to work, but with the right combination of strange work arounds and mysterious software, you could get them to do almost anything. They were light years ahead of both Macs and PCs in terms of performance, speed and sheer voodoo power. And they were far more financially in reach (and faster to boot) than the Silicon Graphics machines that were the computer animation industry standard at the time. My company started off with one Amiga--with a built in 500 meg drive (the largest money could buy at the time)--and ended with more than a dozen of them. We did 3-D and cell animation, film resolution rendering, music composing and production, off and on-line editing, morphing, accounting, script writing and a hell of a lot of video game playing on those machines.
Amigas built the computer animation reel that eventually landed me a job directing animation at Will Vinton Studios. I started off doing mostly M&M's commercials but then segued into some animated television series work and eventually found my way into character and story consulting. Which is what I do now--and which turns out to be the best job I've ever had. I think it's absolutely safe to say that none of that would have happened if I hadn't taken a wrong turn and run straight into Amigas back in 1990.
Of course, Amiga went out of business back in the mid 1990's and I had to migrate to other platforms (none of which are half as fun or a quarter as dynamic) but I still miss my magic machines.
Back in 1990, I was an aspiring filmmaker--fresh out of film school and working on a super-low-budget feature film. Then I ran out of money and decided to do freelance work to continue financing the feature. I probably would have continued with that route except that one day, while driving through Aurora, Illinois, I happened to take a wrong turn and pass a sign that said, "Computers for Video!"
The sign was advertising a place (Microtech Computers) that sold Amiga computers with Video Toasters. After stopping in for an impromptu demo of the editing capabilities, I reformulated my plans and wound up starting my own production company. Although the initial plan was just to do live action production, the Toaster came with a 3-D animation program called Lightwave. I'd minored in animation, so I started messing around with the 3-D animation features just because they were there and free. Two years later, more than half of the work my company was doing was computer animation--all of it programmed and rendered on Amigas.
Ah, how I loved my Amigas. They seemed like they were only about 30% scientific machine and the rest was just magic. You couldn't always tell when or how they were going to work, but with the right combination of strange work arounds and mysterious software, you could get them to do almost anything. They were light years ahead of both Macs and PCs in terms of performance, speed and sheer voodoo power. And they were far more financially in reach (and faster to boot) than the Silicon Graphics machines that were the computer animation industry standard at the time. My company started off with one Amiga--with a built in 500 meg drive (the largest money could buy at the time)--and ended with more than a dozen of them. We did 3-D and cell animation, film resolution rendering, music composing and production, off and on-line editing, morphing, accounting, script writing and a hell of a lot of video game playing on those machines.
Amigas built the computer animation reel that eventually landed me a job directing animation at Will Vinton Studios. I started off doing mostly M&M's commercials but then segued into some animated television series work and eventually found my way into character and story consulting. Which is what I do now--and which turns out to be the best job I've ever had. I think it's absolutely safe to say that none of that would have happened if I hadn't taken a wrong turn and run straight into Amigas back in 1990.
Of course, Amiga went out of business back in the mid 1990's and I had to migrate to other platforms (none of which are half as fun or a quarter as dynamic) but I still miss my magic machines.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Helm #4 Release Date Set!
For any of you interested, I just heard from Dark Horse that the release date for issue #4 of the Helm will be November 19th, 2009.
Now, working from past experience, that's not a guarantee or anything, but it looks pretty solid at the moment.
Now, working from past experience, that's not a guarantee or anything, but it looks pretty solid at the moment.
The End is Nigh
I reviewed the final pages for issue #4 of the Helm yesterday! That means the final issue is off to the printers. No word yet on exactly when it will hit stores, but it's likely to be in the next few weeks.
Looking at the final pages, I was again impressed by the tremendous talent and effort on display by Bart Sears, Randy Elliott, Dan Jackson, Dave Lanphear and my editor Dave Land.
So anyway, the final countdown has begun, the end is nigh, we are in the end times. Whoo Hooo! Bring on the apocalypse!
Looking at the final pages, I was again impressed by the tremendous talent and effort on display by Bart Sears, Randy Elliott, Dan Jackson, Dave Lanphear and my editor Dave Land.
So anyway, the final countdown has begun, the end is nigh, we are in the end times. Whoo Hooo! Bring on the apocalypse!
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Fruit Flies, Genocide and Human Ingenuity
So, we've got fruit flies in our house. I think it's mostly because we don't have any screens on our windows because the painters took them out and put them in the basement and then the movers buried them under seventy two tons of our boxed possessions. But hey, I'm not blaming anyone.
Fruit flies are massively annoying for such little beasts. It's partly because they are so tiny--which makes them hard to shoo away--but it's also because they fly around in swarms and they land on anything you might be eating or thinking of eating. And then they lay eggs on it. Apparently, the average fruit fly can lay 500 eggs, each of which can hatch into larva (on my food) and lay their own 500 eggs, all within the space of a week. Given those numbers, I'm not sure why there is any space in our house not packed to the exploding point with fruit flies, but so far the swarm has been relatively minimal (although no less annoying.)
I've mostly been thwacking them out of the air with dish towels--which is not only not very effective, but causes my oldest daughter to scold me for being, "mean and inhumane." I've tried explaining how the fruit flies are unhygienic barbarian invaders, locked in a life and death struggle with us for the household food supply, but she says they are, "tiny and cute and all creatures deserve to live." Despite her protests, I have begun researching means of inflicting genocide on them.
[DISCLAIMER] Okay, not genocide really. Fruit flies are not a national, racial, political or social group and, just to be really clear, I in no way support the systematic extermination of any peoples based on anything. Crap. When I run for president of the United States--the only country I currently qualify to be president of--I'm sure this blog will be quoted out of context by my esteemed opponent's propaganda machine despite my disclaimer and everyone will believe I support and/or actively participate in genocide. [END DISCLAIMER AND PARANOID TANGENT]
I suppose what I want to inflict on the fruit flies is actually speciecide. Regardless of what you call the total extinction I envision for my fruit flies, I have been able to quickly find an abundance of devious and ingenious ways to accomplish it. Most of them take gleeful advantage of the behavioral weaknesses of the flies. For example:
The Wine Trap: put out a glass of wine. Add one finger tip touch of dish soap to reduce the surface tension of the wine. Fruit flies are attracted to fermentation--but the wine will kill any eggs they manage to lay and the lack of surface tension will drown the flies.
The Oven Trap: Put a piece of fruit in your oven over night--a slice of banana works well. Leave the oven door open. In the morning, sneak up and slam the door closed. Turn the oven on to 400 for ten minutes. Clean the oven thoroughly.
The Blow Drier Trap: Sidle up to a swarm of fruit flies with a plugged in hair dryer in your hand (sidle up because the flies are alarmed by quick movement). Turn on the hair dryer and put the back end of it near the flies. They will be sucked into the heat chamber and fried!
The Vacuum Trap: Suck up entire swarms with the upholstery or crevice attachment. They cannot escape the suction and it will destroy them as they are sucked in.
I could go on for pages, but I think you've got the picture. All of them seem like deeply satisfying and even enjoyable approaches to eliminating my flies. But, of course, my daughter would be inconsolable if she stumbled across my blueprint for a final solution to the fruit fly problem.
The abundance--the over abundance--of speciecide suggestions readily available to anyone with an Internet makes me glad that I am not a non-human living on Earth. We are devilish clever at doing away with things or seeding their downfall by dissecting their behavior. We're really good problem solvers and very good at thinking of anything that bothers us as a problem to be solved even if it is actually another living creature that is part of a much larger living system way more complicated than we can begin to fathom.
So, I'll probably wind up using the Open Jar Trap. It's what it sounds like--an open jar with a piece of fruit in the bottom. When a bunch of flies land on the fruit, you slap a plate over the top and then you take the jar outside and let them all go. That's right. Catch and release. I'll probably turn it into a father/daughter project.
And then the little buggers or their teeming progeny will undoubtedly come back in through the screenless windows. Damn fruit flies.
Fruit flies are massively annoying for such little beasts. It's partly because they are so tiny--which makes them hard to shoo away--but it's also because they fly around in swarms and they land on anything you might be eating or thinking of eating. And then they lay eggs on it. Apparently, the average fruit fly can lay 500 eggs, each of which can hatch into larva (on my food) and lay their own 500 eggs, all within the space of a week. Given those numbers, I'm not sure why there is any space in our house not packed to the exploding point with fruit flies, but so far the swarm has been relatively minimal (although no less annoying.)
I've mostly been thwacking them out of the air with dish towels--which is not only not very effective, but causes my oldest daughter to scold me for being, "mean and inhumane." I've tried explaining how the fruit flies are unhygienic barbarian invaders, locked in a life and death struggle with us for the household food supply, but she says they are, "tiny and cute and all creatures deserve to live." Despite her protests, I have begun researching means of inflicting genocide on them.
[DISCLAIMER] Okay, not genocide really. Fruit flies are not a national, racial, political or social group and, just to be really clear, I in no way support the systematic extermination of any peoples based on anything. Crap. When I run for president of the United States--the only country I currently qualify to be president of--I'm sure this blog will be quoted out of context by my esteemed opponent's propaganda machine despite my disclaimer and everyone will believe I support and/or actively participate in genocide. [END DISCLAIMER AND PARANOID TANGENT]
I suppose what I want to inflict on the fruit flies is actually speciecide. Regardless of what you call the total extinction I envision for my fruit flies, I have been able to quickly find an abundance of devious and ingenious ways to accomplish it. Most of them take gleeful advantage of the behavioral weaknesses of the flies. For example:
The Wine Trap: put out a glass of wine. Add one finger tip touch of dish soap to reduce the surface tension of the wine. Fruit flies are attracted to fermentation--but the wine will kill any eggs they manage to lay and the lack of surface tension will drown the flies.
The Oven Trap: Put a piece of fruit in your oven over night--a slice of banana works well. Leave the oven door open. In the morning, sneak up and slam the door closed. Turn the oven on to 400 for ten minutes. Clean the oven thoroughly.
The Blow Drier Trap: Sidle up to a swarm of fruit flies with a plugged in hair dryer in your hand (sidle up because the flies are alarmed by quick movement). Turn on the hair dryer and put the back end of it near the flies. They will be sucked into the heat chamber and fried!
The Vacuum Trap: Suck up entire swarms with the upholstery or crevice attachment. They cannot escape the suction and it will destroy them as they are sucked in.
I could go on for pages, but I think you've got the picture. All of them seem like deeply satisfying and even enjoyable approaches to eliminating my flies. But, of course, my daughter would be inconsolable if she stumbled across my blueprint for a final solution to the fruit fly problem.
The abundance--the over abundance--of speciecide suggestions readily available to anyone with an Internet makes me glad that I am not a non-human living on Earth. We are devilish clever at doing away with things or seeding their downfall by dissecting their behavior. We're really good problem solvers and very good at thinking of anything that bothers us as a problem to be solved even if it is actually another living creature that is part of a much larger living system way more complicated than we can begin to fathom.
So, I'll probably wind up using the Open Jar Trap. It's what it sounds like--an open jar with a piece of fruit in the bottom. When a bunch of flies land on the fruit, you slap a plate over the top and then you take the jar outside and let them all go. That's right. Catch and release. I'll probably turn it into a father/daughter project.
And then the little buggers or their teeming progeny will undoubtedly come back in through the screenless windows. Damn fruit flies.
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