Pit Stop Pothole Wit Slop Hobo

A stick in the abyss
In the middle of our street
A pit within our midst
The riddle we must meet

Gaping like a wound
Festering and dark
A hazard to our safety and
One less place to park

Some say it is a pot hole
And easy to repair
But what if it's a knothole
A pit of pure despair?

Some say it is a gateway
A tunnel straight to hell
Some argue for its innocence
And sincerely wish it well

As for me, I do abstain
From judging empty space
I'll hold my tongue and keep the peace
And try to show some grace
 

Ragtime Remake

Idea: A new version of Ragtime, but it's about a disaster that requires everyone on Earth to pull together and create billions of rags, then use them to clean up the planet. Makes heavy use of ragtime music. 

As I was writing, I had Gemini make a poster. My prompt: 

Create a movie poster for a remake of Ragtime, except this time the movie is about the people of earth using rags to clean up the world. Feel free to come up with an appropriate crew and cast for the poster credits. The poster's tagline should be "From Rags...New Riches" 

Felled by Fellini

 

Do you mock me, sir? 

A few days ago, I completed a major reorganization of our theatre room. Yesterday, not content with my work, I set about re-sorting some of my discs and adding themed decorations to the shelves. 

Suddenly, something heavy fell from above, slamming right into the bridge of my nose. I was so stunned that I didn't even yell; I was too dazed. A second later, the pain hit; it was severe enough that I wondered if something had broken my nose. When I touched it, causing an even worse flare-up of pain, my fingers came away covered with blood. 

I scurried to the bathroom and tenderly applied tissue to the wound to stanch the flow of blood, then returned to the scene of the accident. There on the floor was my prized Criterion Fellini box set--the culprit. I must have jostled the shelves, and the set, which had been perched with other Criterion sets on high, tilted over and struck its blow. 

I have now secured the Fellini in a better position. I'm just glad it didn't fall on Sylvia. 

Thanks to Stephen for the inspiration for this post's title. 

Hulking Mad Barbarian

I am the very model of a hulking mad barbarian
When I don't see pillaging I really get contrarian
When I come for you I wield
A bloody axe and iron shield
Good thing this image isn't real
'Cause I have no desire to steal
 

All Hail Canada Day

 

Arnold's Path

A giant straddles the Terminator between light and shadow
Like Atlas, but actually Hercules
A Dutch treat from Austria, caught in a Matrix of illusion
A Julius Caesar, torn between worlds to rule
A Quaid/Hauser, lost in conflicting roles
A Kaminski/Brenner on both sides of the coldest war
A Danko, a Richards, a Slater, a Kimble, a Langston
A Trench-ant master, caught in a Fries frame
Doctor, President, Patron, Hood, and yet always a Self
The once and future King Conan Kalidor
Ahhhhnold, the T-800

Popcorn Sequence

Back in 2008, I tried to capture a photo of popcorn bouncing off my face. The effort failed. 
 

Don't Hide Dynamite in the Dryer

Years ago, I remember asking Dad if a clothes dryer would be a good place to store dynamite. I don't remember how Dad answered, but he was rather nonplussed and said something to the effect of "As long as you don't store it in our dryer." Or maybe it was "You shouldn't have dynamite," as if that was the most obvious statement in the world, which, yes, fair. 

Anyway, I always thought it would be funny if someone filled their dryer with sticks of dynamite just because they thought the police or CSIS or whoever wouldn't look there. 


 

The Brain of Colossus

 

"Colossus' brain is bigger than yours. It weighs 60 tons."

Bat-astrophe

I asked Gemini to recreate the cover of Detective Comics number 27 (Batman's first appearance) in the style of Brian Bolland. For whatever reason, Gemini decided to make Batman a little less accomplished, with potentially grave results. I love the expressions on the faces of the criminals. 

Cheeky Jackbox

"Why is Earl like that?" Good question, wrong answer. 
 

Dada Comics #19

 

Yet No Reply

The call, it came
Sans question mark
And so I answered
On a lark

Yet no reply
Came back to me
I never left
They didn't see
 

How Much for Just the Painting?

In John M. Ford's How Much for Just the Planet?, one of my favourite media tie-in novels, Kirk and a Klingon get involved in a slapstick chase. At one point, Kirk escapes through a window in the bathroom, and the Klingon pursuing him attempts to follow. Unfortunately, the Klingon is too heavy for the toilet seat to support, so the lid shatters and the Klingon winds up getting his foot stuck in the toilet. Because I have the sense of humour of a two-year-old, I still find this scene uproariously funny. 

That's why, a few weeks ago, I tried to recreate the scene with Gemini. Alas, it appears my prompt was insufficient to the task. I should have commissioned Jeff to paint it for me. Maybe that can be a birthday present to myself someday. 
 

Yes, Lois!

Somewhere on one of the endless parallel Earths, Roy Lichtenstein painted Yes, Lois! He released the piece to great fanfare (and puzzlement) in 1964, a few months after reading Action Comics #296, in which Superman exposes himself to Red Kryptonite so that he can communicate with the space ants who kidnapped Lois Lane. Considering the effects of Red K on Kryptonians are generally unpredictable, Superman was taking quite a risk here, but it paid off. It turns out the space ants were just misunderstood. Once again, Superman uses brains and compassion instead of brute force to resolve conflict. Way to go, Man of Steel! Oh, and nice homage, Roy. 
 

Ay, Ay, Eye!

 

Pope Hat

♝
I accidentally discovered I can insert special characters into my blog posts. This sentence follows a pope hat.  

Pope hat
Pope hat
Roly poly pope hat
Pope hat pope hat
Eat them up, yum

Bird vs. Sean

 

Artless Sequence

Generative AI has not yet mastered sequential art. Huzzah! I am, however, still amused. 
 

Doctor Empathy, M.D.

 While Sylvia and I were watching The Pitt a couple of weeks ago, a demented idea popped into my head. 

Imagine an emergency room doctor who never learned how to be dispassionate, how to remain composed and professional when faced with the daily horrors of the ER. This hypothetical doctor can hold his emotions in check for the first few minutes of diagnosis and treatment, but then he breaks down in tears and has to complete his work while sobbing brokenly, whether he's treating a broken toe or a mortal gunshot wound. 

In a real-world setting, I would expect that such a doctor would be eventually dismissed for his effect on morale--both patient morale and the morale of everyone else in the ER. 

But imagine further that this emotional doctor also happens to be a preternaturally gifted genius who saves people in even the most desperate medical circumstances. Time after time, he saves patients that no one else could have saved. Once, his colleagues called him Doctor, Empathy, M.D., with the M.D. standing for "Mucho Depressing" instead of "Medical Doctor." But now, they see him with a mixture of bewilderment and awe, calling him "Master Diagnostician," "Master of Disease," or "Medically Divine." His colleagues can find Doctor Empathy exasperating, but they can see the value of his work, so they devote themselves through getting Doctor Empathy through each shift with his--and their--sanity intact.

I think this might make a pretty good dramedy.