Blogging- Not as easy as it sounds!

Man, writing about stuff is hard. I mean, writing about it from an informed position. There's research and stuff I don't want to do. I want to be sort of like Glenn Beck, where I just read some headlines and then warp the stories so that they support my world view, but if I did that I'd be a hack. I have too much pride for that (take note- I probably won't ever say this again in my entire life).

Just because it came to mind and I need to start writing blog posts, I'm going to write about originality, I think. I don't know, this is flow of consciousness stuff because it's 5am and I wish I could get to sleep.

I used to be a pretty active member of the Cracked.com Forums, and although I don't think I'm very funny, it taught me a couple of things about humor, and the way those things relate to me, personally. I haven't gone around in awhile, as a lot of the members I admired went and formed a new site due to some weird drama. So then, most of the people left at the Cracked.com forums were mostly ones I thought weren't very funny or interesting, and I didn't really fit in on the new site (that new site can be found here, and I'm glad that it's doing well) because those guys are much funnier than I think I'll ever be.

When I started writing all that, I was thinking I would write out some of the things I've learned, but Dane Cook has more credibility when it comes to comedy than I do, so I'm just going to list some things that I think are unoriginal no matter where you are.

1. Making fun of Twilight- Thousands of people have already said exactly what you're going to say, and each one of them said it in a funnier way than anything you will think of.

2. 'Shock' Humor- You are not shocking anyone when you talk about watching porn. Nobody is surprised when you talk about smoking weed. Most people don't enjoy actually shock humor, so if you find that there is anything someone could say that would offend you, you should probably try not to use shock humor.

3. Being Fancy- Using long, fancy words and pretending to be a high-class gentleman is not funny of its own accord. You may have just learned what the word 'fisticuffs' means, but the top hat and monocle routine is already overdone in most significant internet communities.

4. A Lot of Other Stuff- I'm lazy. I'd say I'll finish this later, but I probably won't. So, until next time, which will probably be 3 months from now.

Hello, blog!

Specifically, blog that nobody reads anyways. It has been far too long, it has, so I think I'll try and get a handle on this thing again, since it's already set up and shit and I want to start blogging again.

What am I going to blog about, though? Shoes? Designer handbags? Axe handles? Dinosaurs? Ha ha! All of those things are much more interesting than anything I am going to be blogging about. Instead I will talk about my boring life and video games and being a lumberjack, and stuff like that.

For this post, I'm just going to leave you (my non-existent readers) hanging and not really say anything, and this type of post will probably become pretty normal if I do manage to update regularly.

For now, however, I have a huge dump to take. Depending on its splendor, I may or may not post some pictures of it for all of you internet people to marvel at.

A new project

So me and my buddy Tanner might be starting something cool this week, and if we can make anything worthwhile then we might just continue and make some more stuff. I know it's vague, but none of my ideas are definite yet, and they're not going to be until we can meet and brainstorm and see what we can do. But hey, at least I'm updating.

SGT SHREDBALLS

I was feeling artistic after drawing a Cosby for Nedroid's 'Great Cosby Experiment', so I also drew Sargeant Shredballs:

what is this I don't even

Page 2

http://triquetracats.com/?date=2003-11-20

This is actually an okay page. Michael's little pose thing is kind funny. The subtitle below the page explains that this one has been re-done with Jessica's "improved art skills". The problem is that, despite the improvement, even the art here is terrible. The coloring is boring and doesn't do much as far as shading, the lines for the wrinkles in the clothes are all wrong, and his hair is blue.

Really? Blue? I know it's a staple of that animu style to give every character a ridiculous hair color, but it doesn't make it any less stupid. It also just seems a bit lazy here with all the blue.

I guess I should be glad Jessica has yet to re-do every page. The atrocity of Triquetra Cats is the only reason it stands out from every other transgender webcomic (yes, among webcomics transgender is a genre), and if every page is like this the art will just be depessingly mediocre, and the writing isn't bad enough to drag it down to the depths it's at now.

Keep shining, you crazy diamond.

I Ain't Sayin' I'm a Gold Digger

So I'm about to put a link to the Cracked Forums. Specifically, I'm about to link to a thread about the worst webcomics. I should warn that most of them are there for a reason- even the highest-quality webcomics in this thread are disturbing at best. The worst are a blight on the internet (which is quite a feat, because the internet is the worst place).

http://www.cracked.com/forums/topic/36326/the-worst-webcomic/0

Anyways, in that thread, on page 45 (I think) someone linked to a comic called Triquetra Cats. Triquetra Cats is a shitty webcomic that sucks. It's mostly just unabashedly terrible, but occasionaly there's a bit of unintentional humor, which is why I'm writing this. While reading through it can be fairly entertaining (the atrocious writing combined with the surreal illustrations is good for a chuckle), the majority of strips are unfunny, and can ruin the good ones, so I'm going to go through and find the gold so that everyone else doesn't have to cover themselves in shit to find it.


Strip 1
http://www.triquetracats.com/?date=2003-11-19

If you want to know what is so bad about this comic, you need only read this page. It combines a number of stupid things that occur throughout, such as mouths that bear a striking resemblance to a penis, as well as panels prominently displaying the word 'SHOCK' in the background, because you can't tell that the character's ae supposed to appear shocked from the art.

It also pretty clearly states that this is a transgender comic, which is a nice warning to everyone who doesn't like terrible webcomics. Actually, it pretty much beats you over the head with this, because 'Jessica Raven' has no idea what subtlety is.

"Hey Jorgenson, checking her out man?", A boy asks the main character, Michael, who is looking at Trena Warsimmons, the most popular girl in school .While the illustration of Trena might give one hope that Jessica Raven can draw a well-proportioned human-like creature when she puts in the effort, it's more likely she just gets lucky sometimes.

"Oh wait, that's right! You'd rather BE her!", the boy continues, before pointing at Michael and laughing. 'The problem is he's right.' Michael thinks, looking down towards the end of the hallway (one would assume that he is forlorn, but his expression is indistinguishable because Jessica wisely avoids having to draw his uper-face by putting a retardedly huge pair of hypno-glasses on him that magically cover his eyes from every single angle).

This is a painfully obvious attempt to garner sympathy for Michael. Rather than give him any semblance of depth, she makes him exist only for a single purpose that he is ridiculed because of. Of course it all seems unnatural because kids don't get made fun of for having gender dysphoria. If they're flamboyant then maybe, but Michael would seem to be an introvert. How would anyone even know he was gender dysphoric? Maybe he had a friend once that he told, who then turned and told the whole school? Nah, that might make Michael remotely interesting.

untitled story

So anyways this is the latest thing I've been working on. I've got a bit more than this, but not a whole lot, and I need to go over it because I wrote it all in a big chunk and that usually doesn't give good results.

A room is illuminated in a fiery glow from a single candle on a rickety table. A boot casts a flickering shadow on the wall and from the boot springs a thick, tough leg with a bulging calf. The leg is stuck onto a scarred torso in a torn long coat, and on top or in front of the torso are two crossed arms. There is a thick patch of fur with a face attached stuck carelessly to the body, its neck barely visible.

 The man adjusts himself. The candle’s flame spasms for a moment as the table rocks, as if about to give in to the weight of the man’s thick boots. Sensing this, the man picks his boots up and puts them on the floor and sitting up straight in his chair. He takes a quick look about the room but he can’t see anything.

 He is visibly startled when a figure appears in the doorway. She moves forward into the dim light and the man lets go of his pistol. He opens his mouth to speak but all that comes out is a dry, breathy gasp. He reaches out and feels around the dark end of the table and pulls from the shade a flagon. It is nearly empty, but the few drops of water are still refreshing, and after his throat is cleared he successfully attempts to speak again.
 “You’re late.” He says annoyance obviously present in his voice. He looks sternly at her and moves to stand but winces in pain when he shifts his weight to his feet.
 “Don’t try and stand,” she says, moving towards him. She sets a tome on the teetering table and stumbles slightly over her cassock, but she keeps her balance. The thick brown cloth falls much further than her feet and is plainly a men’s size. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. There were many casualties.” She keeps her eyes on the floor as if ashamed.
 “It doesn’t matter. Just see what you can do.” The man says, pulling up the left leg of his pants to reveal a deep wound, surrounded by crusty dried blood. Along the center a thick black tar-like substance swirled and bubbled. It obscured a malevolent but faint violet glow, deep beneath the surface. The woman gasped at the sight.
 “I-…” she began and trailed off. Her eyes were wide with fear, as if the wound were demon incarnate. “This is beyond my knowledge, I-“
 “Do something!” The man shouts. The flame flickers in response. “Just do anything! The pain is-… it’s unbearable!” his face turns white and his eyes seem to lose themselves in a separate plane and he falls into the chair again. The woman grabs the tome and quickly flips through it. She passes up the page she’s looking for and furiously flips backwards. She finds the correct page and reads along with the line. 
 She reaches out toward his wound and, her arm trembling with the magical energies coursing through it, slowly draws the gooey substance from the wound. The ichor grows bright then begins to dim as it grows further from the wound. It desperately clings to the hairs of his leg, and a faint scream can be heard from deep under its surface as it begins to harden. In a few moments more it has completely solidified, and it falls to the ground, harmless.
 The man gasps and wheezes, his weak breaths scratching his dry throat. The woman is also breathing heavily, but is entranced by the deep purple globe in the dirt. She breaks her concentration as the man gags, and hands him a boar skin canteen from the table. He sucks the canteen dry in seconds and drops it to his side.
 “Th-… thank you…” He manages to say as he passes out through the pain in his calf. The woman leaves to summon a surgeon.