Not everyone who sent in paperwork to be included in the ‘Fest said they wanted to be in Team US. (I maintain that we’re all sort of Team US anyhow, but in an existential way or something) Here’s Nebuchanezzar IV, riding for Mal’s team!
Like most of us, Mal is sharp in a way…
and not sharp in others.
Had another young illustrator come talk to me today about taking up comic strips.
Woo. There’s a tricky conversation.
It involves history, business, markets, decline, digital milieu, innovation, obsession, skill, writing, drawing…
And there’s no science or linear approach to it, nosirree.
Hard to know what to tell the up-and-comers, y’know?
…Hans Gruber would have been so proud.
Seriously, “Hans” was the bad guy’s name in Die Hard. There was also “Karl”, and “Heinrich”, “Kristoff”, and “Fritz”. And a few others, but really… that’s a LOT of stereotypical names for deadly germans, ain’t it?
I did my usual old workouts the last couple of days… and started feeling pretty good today. Really back to normal. Strong. Healthy.
In other words, exactly the way I felt the day I got all the blood clots two months ago.
And there’s a real sign of old age: worried that something’s wrong because it feels like nothing’s wrong.
You know how you get those phone calls and they say stuff like, “Hello, is this Mr. Car…uhvannus?” and you’re all “Well, heck, that was almost close. Whattaya selling?” and then they claim they’re not selling anything, but then they’re trying to tell you some cock’n’bull story about your credit card or alarm system or …
Y’know what? I might have something other than this cartoon on my mind. Point is, Poopoohead and Doodoohead aren’t that different and over the phone, you might mistake one for the other.
Everyone, meet Shelly.
I think you’re going to like Shelly. I like her.
What does Mal sound like in your head? In mine, he’s got a very nasal, unusually deep voice for someone his size. Until he’s upset and on the phone, when his voice takes on a hysterical, hectoring, high pitch.
The title today comes from an entertaining exchange that Douglas Adams wrote between Zaphod Beeblebrox and Ford Prefect.
They were on a ship, diving into a sun. Zaphod asks how many escape pods there are, and Ford says, “None.”
Zaphod, his mind clearly elsewhere, says, as best as I can recall “None? Did you count them?”
To which Ford says, “Yes. Twice.”
They do escape death in a burning ship, though.
Motivation is fun to write about.
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