I am sensing something unthinkable is about to transpire…
http://www.tmz.com/2010/01/07/jay-leno-nbc-conan-obrien-tonight-show/
…as if millions of voices are about to suddenly cry out in anguish.
I have been called many things in my day: adventurer, hotspur, pioneering man-of-science. So it should come as no revelation that I recently resolved to enlist in that strange fraternity of intrepid geniuses; the human bird-men.
Straightway I began roughing out a draft of how my flying apparatus would operate: utilising a flexible skeleton of birch-wood gleaned from my estate’s boreal forest, I fashioned a set of crude wings by stretching across it a large leathery membrane of some sort which I procured free of cost from the whaling camps, once the whalers had scavenged all their precious ivory and margarine and perfume-oils from their trophy.
From there I purchased from the Oriental market several great rocket-arrows capable of propelling me through the air which I planned to affix to my back via a sturdy leather strop. A second strop was used to stay me atop a small wooden dandy-horse.
Early the following morn I arose early and set out for Narmouth’s Bluff; a great rocky outcropping where local aeronauts pilot their contraptions and where once every full moon a witch is hurled down onto the jagged shoals below. A point of rising incline served as a makeshift ramp from which the dare-devils would launch into the air.
Never one to hesitate I naturally fore-went any pleasantries and with a quick snap of my flint the fire-cracker atop my shoulders was propelling me swiftly down the smooth dirt path toward the launching slope. I cannot convey to you the rapture that pervaded my being as I felt my corporeal frame begin to break the curse of gravity. Alas, as the leading wheel of my velocipede struck the ramp I was sent into a reversed trampoliner’s sombresault. My back struck the ground where I lay stunned if only for a moment, before the Chinese skyrocket fastened to myself let off a mighty report which launched my floundering, scorched body several feet into the air.
It was only then that I became aware that I had been remiss to have overlooked a certain peck-order amongst these sky-farers, and by rushing to attempt my flight I had trespassed the so-called “old hands” of this elite society.
Shunned and literally shattered, I lay quietly in amazement and watched awe as one-by-one these intrepid high-flyers piloted their whirly-birds, and recoiled in horror as one-by-one they were dashed against the rocks below.
As I slowly rolled my push-bike home, an old man stood on-looking. “To me” said the man, “it looked as though your trip atop that snap-dragon may have set the record.” I wondered whether flight by means of explosion was permissible, although it was honour enough simply to be counted amongst such a distinguished society of departed heroes.
I’ve started another, more focused tumblr. Actual content pursuant.
“I need the biggest seed bell you have… no, that’s too big.”
I’ve already planned our vacation: we’re going to the Highway 9 bird sanctuary! I understand they’ve installed a new bird feeder this year. It’s shaped like a diner! And it’s on this really tall pole.
JOB DESCRIPTION: Old-Timey Mesmerist.
…and this is what you call beating a dead horse.
the french of Canada are grotesque yet strangely vain. this was my attempt at sketching from memory a few of the folks i saw at the mall on Boxing Day.
@sereneres @punspunspuns @poopiedollar @cautionisaword
Upon a recent re-watching of “Batman Begins”, I began to question the coolness of Batman for the first time in my life.
No doubt about it, Batman is one of the baddest dudes in the superhero universe, no fruity colors, no anticlimactic invulnerabilities, but the movie raises an unspoken question:
MY BRAIN: Why wouldn’t Bruce Wayne just be a crime fighting ninja?
(Bruce Wayne casually saunters into my living room and takes a seat.)
BRUCE WAYNE: Well, if you watch, in my recent movie, it clearly shows that as a child I was frightened badly by a bunch of bats. Being a closet sadist, I decided to make the object of my greatest fear the object of terror for criminals I hated as a way of never having to deal with the death of my parents.
ME: Oh yeah… they were murdered by The Joker, right?
BRUCE: No, no. You’re thinking of a different Bruce Wayne. My family was killed by a generic criminal this time.
ME: Ahhh… well, what if bad guys aren’t afraid of bats? Then what?
BRUCE: I don’t think that’s possible. But just in case I have another little trick up my sleeve…
ME: Oh? What is it?
BRUCE: *ahem* “I talk in this voice!” (Bruce Wayne speaks in a ludicrously gruff voice)
ME: *giggles* Well if nothing else, maybe they’ll think it’s Scott Stapp from Creed under the mask.
BRUCE: I also try to terrify them with dizzying heights on occasion.
ME: Always a good choice.
BRUCE: Thank you.
ME: Well let me just cut to the chase: I have been giving a lot of thought to the concept of you becoming the object of your fear to terrorize your enemies, and frankly I don’t think it works.
True, bats are grotesque, but I think the majority of their “fear factor” comes from their haggard, Keith-Richards-esque faces. You, on the other hand, prefer to cut a rather dashing figure in super-expensive designer duds by Morgan Freeman.
BRUCE: It really is a nice suit. I’ve got these things in my gloves that make electricity go through them and then my cape turns into rigid bat wings with my fingers like super long steering devices.
ME: Oh… is that what that was supposed to be? I saw one part of the movie where you had these really long black fingers that were going all floppy and then getting all pointy and stiff. It was creepy, looked like something out of a Tool video. I wasn’t quite sure what it was.
BRUCE: Yeah, those are my new gloves. They work like a bat’s wings: bat’s wings are essentially long fingers with webbing in between…
ME: Webbing? Like Spiderman?
BRUCE: No… webbing like a duck’s feet. Anyway, bats fly by flapping their long fingers like wings. It wasn’t really explained very well in the film.
ME: I see… but if you tried that with your little tiny man fingers, wouldn’t the sheer force of wind resistance break your fingers or just overpower them and bend them all back?
BRUCE: Let’s just chalk that up to my mysterious ninja training montage.
ME: Fair enough… but what about when you punch guys or throw things, you don’t have long fingers then? When do you make the switch for flying? It seems a bit inconvenient.
BRUCE: Well… in hindsight, maybe it wasn’t explained better in the film because it’s so impossible on so many levels.
ME: well at least you quit shooting that grappling gun into the air all the time. It was getting hard to tell you apart from Spiderman back during the animated series days.
BRUCE: Yeah I really can’t do that anymore. What they didn’t show is how every time I did that; my rotator cup would be violently torn out of socket.
ME: Ouch. Hey, while we’re on the topic of Spiderman that reminds me: that idea about being an object of fear.
BRUCE: Aha! Now here’s a topic that I am very passionate about.
ME: Don’t you think that if this concept of becoming the fear were an accurate and realistic goal, that Spiderman would probably already have the market cornered? I mean, statistically, arachnophobia is way more commonplace than bat-phobia.
BRUCE: Well, it’s my biggest fear and my ninja training taught me to harness my fears.
ME: …About that ninja training- don’t eastern cultures regard bats as bearers of good luck and fertility?
BRUCE: Well I don’t buy into all that mumbo-jumbo. I killed Rhas-Al-Ghul after all. (SPOILER)
ME: Okay, back to fear: isn’t it mostly women and little children who are stricken with terror at the sight of bats or spiders or other assorted creepy crawlers?
BRUCE: Maybe a little bat, but the “big bat” brings out the kid in everyone.
ME: …Sounds like a great holiday tagline. Okay part two of my challenge: In most cases, people’s reaction to said creepies is to bash them with whatever’s closest, with total disregard for the sanctity of life. What of that? Doesn’t your adopted visage of terror make you more prone to attack while say, dressing like a panda would call to your aid countless warm-hearted wildlife lovers?
BRUCE: Pandas are gay.
ME: Wow. Well, I’m coming to the end of this imaginary conversation and I was just thinking that perhaps it would be a good idea to change your image to something less tangible if you were going to go with the idea of evoking fear. Maybe a theme that touches on some idealistic fear that people have. Here’s a short list of superheroes that would scare any villain, and anybody else for that matter, without spending the family fortune on costume accessories:
- “Did-I-Leave-The-Stove-On? Man”
- “Stock market crash Man”
- “You’ll never find true love Man”
- “Rape Man”
- “I hear that there’s this program that can find your internet explorer history file even after you deleted it Man”
- “Nobody’s gonna show up for your birthday party Man”
- “Genital warts Man”
- “What if you tripped and fell off the curb right as a bus was passing and your head went under the tire? Man”
- “Two paychecks away from homelessness Man”
- “Public Speaking Man”
- “It’s been four years of College and I still don’t have a clue Man”
- “Misplaced Diary Man”
- “Here’s what happened on the episode of Survivor you haven’t watched yet Man”
- “Nursing Home Man”
- “Bathing suit flying off on the waterslide at Six Flags Man”
- “Your parents still enjoy sex Man”
- “Papercuts Man”
- “Drunk Driving Man”
- “Pattern Baldness Man”
- “Bullies from high school have more successful lives than you Man”
- “All your friends talk about you behind your back Man”
- “Unwanted pregnancy Man”
- “Richard Simmons Man”
- “Are you forgetting something? Man”
BRUCE: Some of those were really good.
ME: I know.
RAWR.
