"Are you like a crazy person or something?"

So, last night I saw "V for Vendetta" and I must say that I wanted to cry. I know there are people who panned it, but there are also those who thought it was quite good. I thought it was beautiful. When it was over, I was shaken, but in a profound way. I wanted to cry.

Now, before you go all off on me, as internet trolls are prone to do, allow me to explain myself. You see, I am a comic book afficienado. I'm not a "fanboy", per se. I'm not obnoxious like the Comic Book Guy from the Simpsons. I am one of those people who would like comics to be elevated and accepted as an artform. To me, the term "funnybooks" is a slur a few notches below "nigger". Yeah, I'm sure that might seem outlandish to many of you, but that is simply how I feel. Comics have meant a lot to me over my life, and they have been some of my best friends at times. As sad as that may be, it pains me when people fail to take them seriously. There ARE more to comics than Batman and X-Men. Sure these are what people think about, but there are entertaining, yet moving tales to be found, such as Art Speigelman's "Maus" or even Terry Moore's "Strangers in Paradise". In the world of comics, just as with music, there is truly something for everyone. But so few people are willing to give them a chance.

I never had any interest in seeing "V". I've never been a big Alan Moore fan, and while I loved "From Hell" since I have a Jack the Ripper fetish, I could never bring myself to watch the trainwreck that was "The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen". As Jenn has pointed out, the main gist of the movie was "It's that flick where Natalie Portman had to cut her hair." But as the release date neared, people began talking about its political message. The next thing I knew, people were worried about the message this movie might be sending. Would it spawn copycats? Was it antipatriotic? I mean, this was a MOVIE based on a COMIC BOOK. Have you ever heard anything like this? Spider-Man didn't cause journalists to fear that people would try to swing from buildings. Batman never inspired the fear that rich guys might take the law into their own hands. Most of those concepts were deemed too farfetched to matter. But here was a tale which, people felt, hit close to home. Was V a hero or a terrorist? For whom were we to root? This movie got people to thinking. And as I sat there watching it, it got me to thinking, too. I mean, REALLY thinking. And it wasn't "Could V kick Batman's ass?" kinds of thoughts. Instead, I thought about politics, about ethics, about religion, about truth. SO\ome might say that it's sad it took a MOVIE to make me think, but there are others out there like me. And to think, this is nothing new. This story is over a decade old, but is poignant today.

So, when the movie ended, I wanted to cry. In fact, I wanted to weep. Not because it was a sad story. It had its sad parts. Not because it was a happy story, although it had those parts as well. I wanted to cry because I was proud. I was proud that this artform, this literature, was ascending to new heights. I was proud that the medium had the capacity to inspire such thought and emotion. I was proud that the medium had succeeded in hitting "close to home". And I was proud that this might result in comics finally getting their due in modern society.

Posted by William @ 3/26/2006 09:15:00 PM
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"A mouth's a mouth!"

The girls of True.com are gonna get me fired.

You see, I've got this problem of signing on to myspace while at work. I know I'm not supposedto, but I get bored, and the next thing I know, I'm stalking people I haven'tspoken to in 10 yrs. But to make matters worse, it's hard to be inconspicuous, since the site's borders are plastered with the hottie hots of True.com. There's the Mexican looking chick with the blue lacey bra. There's that brunette chick. And, my personal fave, theresthe chick in the red shirt and the little shorts who's opening her blinds or something. Mmm...but I digress. There's no way to visit this site without getting in trouble.

And sure, I could sign off if anybody came by, but that just makes matters worse. You see, when you sign off, you get a FULL PAGE True ad as your sign-off screen. And those are even worse than the banner ads on myspace. Right now, they're rotating between the weird goth chick in the patriotic bikini and that blond chick in the pink bathing suit who looks like she's 12. I swear, a person could get in some serious trouble looking at that shit!

I mean, it would be one thing if I were perving it up on True.com, but that is not the case. Sure, I guess, knowing what I know, I should just stay off myspace at work. But there's no fun in that. So, for now, I'm just gonna live in fear that the girls of True are gonna get me fired.

Posted by William @ 3/26/2006 09:07:00 PM
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"Well, I'll muster every ounce of confidence I have, and cannonball into the water."

So, in an attempt to understand ANYTHING that comes out of Shelly's mouth for the next month, I've tried to keep tabs on the NCAA proceedings. Well, I'm lying here watching the Bradley....Somethings from...Somewhere, as they play the Pittsburgh...Somethings from Pittsburgh. But The scoreboard is set up like this:

BRAD
PITT

Haha! Sports are funny...

Posted by William @ 3/19/2006 12:25:00 PM
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"I'ma do my thing, while you're playin' with your..."

So, where exactly does one learn porn store etiquette? Allow me to clarify. Get ready for an AWKWARD tale, but if it entertains, I've done my job.

So, the other day I went to comic shop #2, as I do most Wednesday evenings. The owner recently retired, and another guy has taken his place. The funny thing is, the "new guy" isn't new at all. He actually worked there about 8 yrs ago, and just kinda disappeared after awhile. Let me paint a picture of him for ya. He's built kind of like "Toad" from the X-Men movies/comics, except he possesses none of the martial artestry of the great Ray Park. In fact, my friend Brett started calling him Toad back in the day. He's a scrawny little guy with a hump on his back. If I ever become a mad scientist, this guy is definitely gonna be my lab assistant. Anyway, I kinda feel bad for the poor guy. He's an OLD, hunchbacked man, who works in a comic shop. Plus, he's not exactly a catch with the ladies, due to the qualities that I've just listed. I've heard him lament as to how lonely he was. Well, back to the story.

I picked up my comics, and he was working as usual. When I was done, I was kind of bored and didn't really feel like going home yet. Well, comic shop #2 is located in sort of a geek/introvert mecca. There's a comic shop, a used toy shop, and an adult book store all within feet of one another. I mean, this corner of the world is guaranteed to keep parents' basements occupied for years to come. So, I decide to pop into the good old adult book store. Sure, you all may be about to launch into, "Will, you're such a perv", but you can either complain, or shut up and listen to the story.

As an aside, why are they still considered adult "book stores". Books now make up only about 1/3 of their merchandise. That's like calling The Gap a "khaki store". Also, why do people complain about the price of gas when porn's so expensive? I mean, that is highway robbery! But I feel that the recording industry could learn a thing or two from the adult entertainment industry. Think about it, porn can be acquired for free online, yet the industry still thrives while charging $35-40 a disc. But I'm getting way off-topic here.

So, I'm in the place, and I'm really just getting a kick out of looking at the insane merchandise. I mean, I'm not the guy who's trolling for his evening entertainment. I just find the whole concept amusing. Wow, they make blow-up dolls of porn stars, and people buy them?! God bless America!

I'm just browsing, and I hear footsteps coming up the back stairs of the store. I turn around, and who do I see? Yup, it was Toad. Now, what does one do in this situation? In any other setting, you would smile, say hi, and exchange meaningless banter. But this is not a typical environment. You don't say, "Hey, *insert name*. Check out this gangbang over here!" So, I kinda smile/smirk at him, but I think I just knocked the wind out of his sails. Here he was, minding his own business, and he was "found out" by one of his best customers. But things quickly went from "awkward" to "batshit crazy".

He kind of pretends not to see me, and then he goes about his browsing. But get this, he immediately goes over to the "oddities" section. That's right, he's not just a porn fan, but he's also a perv. For the uninformed, "oddities" includes pregnant chicks, midgets, etc. Yup, that hole was being dug deeper and deeper.

Now, I was about to have some fun. I was the ultimate cockblock...in the porn shop. Oooh...how evil. I was always a couple of steps behind him, and it sort of ruined his train of thought. Hell, I was there first, and I wasn't about to miss this. I was just killing time, but now the fun was about to begin. He continued to browse the oddities, and I decided to move along and give him his time. Then, out of nowhere, the Smooth Jazz station of the store's radio started playing "How Great Thou Art". Now, Smooth Jazz in a porn shop is almost the pinnacle of cliches, but it takes on a new meaning when the station is playing a jazzed up Christian hymn, as you've just discovered your vice dealer's odd fetish.

I've got to say, though, after a bit, I started to feel bad. I had clearly ruined his fun and his night. All he was was a lonely comic dealer who wished to have some entertainment, and I had taken that from him. He tried to go about his business, but one could tell that he was uncomfortable. I kinda stationed myself near the register just to see what he'd eventually settle on. Maybe we'd strike up a conversation. "Hey man, thanks for saving me that copy of 'Batman' this week. Hey, great choice. The money shot there is truly a work of art." Noticing my location in the store, he stayed near the back, until he finally left through the back door, no porn in hand.

So, yeah, I guess I suck since I derived pleasure from kinda ruining his night, but what was I supposed to do? I mean, the usual beauty of those situations is that there's no blackmail potential. I can't chastise him for being there because I was there, too. But we had different motives. I was there just to kill time, while he was there to shop. I left empty-handed, but pleased. I don't think the same could be said for him. So, I guess the question is, Where DOES one learn proper porn shop etiquette, and did I commit a major faux pas?

Posted by William @ 3/19/2006 02:42:00 AM
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"We have come to terms."

So, I'm trying to find my "voice" again, so this isn't really an official post. Anyway, I was getting sick of y'all leaving me "Why don't you post yet?!" messages, so I figurd I'd throw you a bone.

While packing up to move recently, I found a few things that reminded me of a funny situation a few years ago. You see, we were on vacation in Alabama, and one day we happened into an old-time "five & dime". This was the kind of place that sold you Coke in glass bottles, and actually refilled them if you brought them back. I mean, this place was straight out of the Andy Griffith Show. All that was missing was the lunch counter with the "no coloreds allowed" sign.

Anyway, I am always in the mood to spend some money, and I was about to have a field day in this place. I have this funny tendency to buy shit I neither want nor need; the point is to simply spend the money like it's a shopping spree or something. Now, I'm not sure if you've ever been to 'Bama, but there ain't much there worth spending money on. I was about 10, so I had every action figure that was popular at the time. There shouldn't have been anything to impress me in this time capsule of a store. But that didn't stop me.

I proceeded to buy a pack of those green army men. You know, the kind that were only played with by kids in the '60s and the poor kids of today. But that was nothing compared to what else was in the bundle.

I had a wrist-mounted dart launcher, a bow & arrow set, and to top it off, four lone ranger masks in different colors. I was just a stupid kid who liked junk, so imagine my surprise when I got to the counter and the owner looked at me funny. "Oh, no," I thought. "I'm about to be the next Emmitt Till." He cocked his head, looked at me, and asked, "You ain't about to get into no mischief, are you now?" I looked at the items on the counter, and it was like everything was suddenly crystal clear. What the Hell had I been thinking?! I was buying weapons and masks!

And to top it off, not only did I look like some kind of junior criminal, but I was a low-rent one at that. At an age when most kids would have bb guns and spray paint, my militia was shaping up to be something out of "Howdy Doody".

I looked him in the eye, smiled, and gave him my most sincere, "Oh, no sir. Not at all." He kind of gave me another once over, and proceeded to ring up the items.

My mother had watched the entire exchange, and when I was done, I noticed that she looked upset. I thought she was on my side, and I was thinking, "That guy just asked me that 'cause I was Black." But no, she came off with the patented Black mom response: "Boy, why you gonna buy some fool stuff like that? You got enough junk!"

By that point, as you can figure, I didn't even want the stuff anymore. I had succeeded in wasting the money, and in one person's eyes I was a thug, while in another's I was a fool. Not the best end to that standoff. Oh well...

I thought of that story 'cause I found that dart launcher the other day. It makes me laugh at how stupid the entire exchange was, but I also thought about how I probably couldn't even get away with that today. I mean, back then, it was a simple shop owner, making sure I wasn't gonna be spreading terror to the quiet burg of Tuscaloosa. But today, if I tried to buy such stuff, I might end up on some kind of list.

The thing I always think about, though, is why he thought I was going to do something bad. I mean, sure, I was a little fat kid, in Alabama, buying weapons and masks, but WHY did that have to be a bad thing? I could take the racial approach, but I feel there are so many levels to it that sadden me. I mean, maybe I was going to do something GOOD with those items. Or maybe I just wanted to play. I guess I'm kinda blown that we're always quick to assume something bad, but we never even entertain the idea that something POSITIVE might be afoot. I guess what I'm trying to say is that, after all these years, I'm really sorry that I went back and robbed him...

Posted by William @ 3/09/2006 10:04:00 PM
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