I'll get there, just let me start here. I kind of liked when my life was more linear; boring as hell, but still running in a straight line. The line is running, myself, I'm shambling, but you know that already. Sure am proud to live in Illinois, where we get dead people to the polls and the slogan is Vote Early & Vote Often! How cool would that have been to be up on Ravenswood, the FBI agents in front of Gov. Blago's pad at 6 in the morning? Trying to sell Obama's Senate seat, certainly makes you forget Gov. Ryan giving out drivers licenses to people who can't even read for bribes, one of those drivers then killing seven out of nine members of a family on I-294. (For those keeping count, 5 of our last 8 governors will have seen jail time while in office). Makes you proud. Started into my new writing project fairly heavily, thats the only linear thing going right this week. Used to be, I'd be focused enough to have a handy title ready and not bounce all over the place, but I guess the blog is the first thing to go, then the major internal organs. I'll miss you, spleen. (Yea, this is me with four hours of sleep since early Wednesday). I picked up the latest issue FINAL CRISIS, where the idea of who gets to rape Supergirl gets played out vividly, Grant Morrison once again finds things from Jack Kirby's incredible Fourth World mythos that made me go nuts. One the one hand, I'm happy that someone is finally using just about every Kirby character the correct way, but on the other, like with the scene with Supergirl, I'm like, how the fuck is DC letting him get away with this? Yeah, yeah, its comics, but in FC#5 you get to see Frankenstein on a motorcycle quoting from Milton's PARADISE LOST. There's still JG Jones' artwork, but you can see the transition. Seriously, guys, and for those of you that know of Kirby, he created some whack stuff in the early 70s, and to see it all play out like the early scenes of the DAWN OF THE DEAD remake, with everything going to hell in minutes, again, its something to see. And read. George Chesbro died awhile back, GW Ferguson told me about the man, and can you look at that beautiful cover? He was lucky enough to retain rights to his work so late in life he and his wife were able to release his Mongo books in a new format. All the better. And I have been doing some house cleaning, really shelf cleaning. I discovered a long-lost CD with scanned poems from a now-gone notebook. So you followed me from up there to down here, oblivion to the road ahead, and here's a city bus driver named Percy. I didn't date this, but from my handwriting I know its before I could get the decent pain blockers like gabapentin, so lets say this was 1998. Heading west into the black...Wayne
