Jokerized

OMG Captain Kirk

Sexist Villain

From Wonder Woman #219, 1975. The story itself is called "World of Enslaved Women!" The villain is called Mchsm, which almost seems like a vowel-less spelling of masochism...nah...couldn't be. 

Not in the Cards?

Today I realized that to the best of my knowledge the Royal Flush Gang, longtime foes of the Justice League, have never teamed up with the Joker, Batman's greatest nemesis. You'd think such a meeting would be natural.

"What's wrong, Ten? Don't you know that every deck of cards has...a Joker? HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA..."

You see what I mean. 

Alley Art Gallery

I found this back alley display strangely arresting and melancholy. Poor abandoned robot, consigned to a dingy trash heap. 

Linear Exponential Lateral Northwestward Ho

Born
In
Flin Flon
Thompson was
Next then Leaf Rapids
Leduc came after a long drive
Finally Edmonton, and who knows where next? Not me. 

Couch Potato War

Chips
Are
Salty
And they come
In many flavours
You must eat in moderation
Lest you grow round and fat on Old Dutch and Lays
Like Gorbachev, who brought the Soviet Union low with his love of salty snacks

Rolling the Dice with KFC

Anticipating Dangerous Men

One day I'll set up my office to look more like a proper studio for vlogs like this. 

Descent of the Jellyfish

I shot these jellyfish photos at the aquarium in Vancouver. I find the colours and forms quite striking. 

Here is a super-wide shot of the McDougall campground on the Hanson Lake Road in Saskatchewan, shot on my little point and shoot Pentax when Sylvia and I drove to Leaf Rapids in 2006. It's a really beautiful, blink-and-you'll-miss-it spot. Click to embiggen!

Hammer Fan

Here's the fan from yesterday in the instant just before its destruction. 

Portrait of a Fan-atic

Ten years ago to the month, Sean took this picture of me helping Mom and Dad get rid of some old junk in their basement. I think my mother or my aunt painted the painting behind me. 

Savage Supper

Sean suggested we could toast buns in the toaster, and butter them with garlic butter to make garlic bread. It was not an unqualified success. 

Home Alone: A Tragedy

Imagine if Chris Columbus' Home Alone (1990) had ended with the returning Mom breaking her neck on her son's booby-trapped stairs...I enjoyed the slapstick, of course, but I really did wonder how the director was going to address all the damage done to the house. As it turns out, he glossed it over with a snowfall and some off-screen cleaning by the protagonist. But for a few seconds, I really wondered if things were going to end badly.

I can't say I'm a fan of Chris Columbus' work, but after seeing Home Alone I'm a little less inclined to write off his work entirely. It's still pretty schmaltzy, but my sense of humour is unsophisticated enough to enjoy Kevin's creative traps for the hapless burglars. 

SEANBURGER Friday

Building a Better Ray Gun

Someone should invent a toy ray gun that has a real laser, but also a water reservoir. When you pull the trigger, the gun shoots a fine mist of water just before the laser flares into life. The result: a visible laser beam! How cool would this be?

Alternatively, you could just put lasers on squirt guns for a similar, though not identical, effect. 

Knight Watch

One could argue that this is the golden age of television, that we are living through an era of high-quality dramas and comedies unmatched in the medium's young history. Breaking Bad, Game of Thrones, Mad Men, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Damages, the revamped Battlestar Galactica...it's an embarrassment of riches out in what was once called a vast wasteland.

But what have we sacrificed to reach this pinnacle of programming? Simple: 80s and 90s cheese, and only one man can save us:

David Hasselhoff. 

Hasselhoff ruled the airwaves for years in decades past with two signature hits: Knight Rider and Baywatch. Imagine if Hasselhoff could be persuaded to reprise the roles of not just one, but two of his most iconic characters: crusading agent of F.L.A.G. Michael Knight and heroic lifeguard Mitch Buchannon. Together with a rebuilt KITT, the now-amphibious artificially intelligent supercar, they form the...

KNIGHT WATCH.

Picture if you will the pilot episode, in which Michael Knight, grizzled and cynical, tries to retire quietly to the golden beaches of southern California - only to meet his double. And imagine Mitch Buchannon's mirrored alarm. Neither man has a twin - as far as they know.

But remember, Michael Knight wears another man's face, as described in the original pilot of Knight Rider. Michael Knight was once police detective Michael Long, until he was shot in the face, only to be rescued by an eccentric billionaire and given a new face and identity through plastic surgery. He became Michael Knight, "...a man who does not exist." It turns out that eccentric billionaire modelled Michael Long's new features after his long lost son, Garth Knight...who shows up in the distance, watching Mitch and Michael...waiting.

KITT, of course, joins the Baywatch rescue team, using his turbo boost to leap from the beach into the waves whenever someone gets into trouble. Together, once they've resolved the mystery of Garth Knight and their identical faces, they fight crime and solve problems twenty-six episodes a year as the KNIGHT WATCH!

Hand in Glove

Even given the evidence of my ABA card, I can understand if some people find it hard to believe I ever participated in sports. Well, I may not be playing, but here is 11 year old me in my baseball uniform. I think I played somewhere in the outfield, where I could do the least damage. 

Cat on a Wire

Knowing what I know now about how animals cause power outages, this old shot of the Woods family cat, Alex, makes me a little nervous. It's sort of a wonder he got away with this...

ABA Card

I can scarce believe that once upon a time I was involved in organized sports, but here's the proof - a scan of my Alberta Baseball Association membership card. I find the automatic use of the male pronoun interesting; maybe there was a separate card for girls and women?

I was a pretty terrible baseball player. During the two or three years I was involved, I think I may have managed one single, one double, a few walks and I may have scored as many as three runs. I was pretty good at losing with grace, though.

Oddly enough, Scott and Mike were having a discussion about children in sports last night, and at one point I said "But in gym class, they taught us that winning didn't matter, that what was important was that we had fun."

Mike delivered a pretty sick burn: "I think, Earl, your teachers meant to say that you didn't need to worry about winning."

Oof. But I laughed!

Saturday Night at the Races

Racing against Steve, Scott and Mike tonight, I placed third in the first race and first in the second. This might be the...second time I've won this game? Maybe? 

Earl's Fib Poem

In a recent post on her blog, Leslie describes fib poems. Here's my first try at producing one:

Art
Film
Actors
Marketing
Moving hearts and minds
Propaganda steers us like sheep
Unless we watch carefully with a critical eye
Reclaiming our power through analysis, we fight back, telling our stories

The Hand

A digital self-portrait shot on 35 mm film. 

Fort Garry House Memories...Such as They Are

For a very brief time that lasted, perhaps, from sometime in 1997 to sometime in 1998, I lived in Fort Garry House, up where Calgary Trail meets Saskatchewan Drive. I had a one-bedroom apartment on the seventh with no balcony, and I remember virtually nothing about the place except that Colin visited once and Bruce and Leslie visited once. Oh, and Bruce and Akemi came by once to shoot photos on the rooftop for I'll Never Marry a Farmer.

There are more photos from that rooftop shoot than I have of my apartment itself; there might be five or six photos, including the one above, clearly taken before I had finished unpacking.

I was living here during the time I transitioned from my job at the Western Board of Music to Hole's - certainly one of the most important moments of my life, at the very least from a career standpoint.

And yet, I can barely recall the place itself. I'm not sure why that makes me sad, but it does. 

Power Puff Earl

Inspired by Bruce and Leslie, who have each made Powerpuff Girl avatars of their own, I present Powerpuff Earl. 

40seanthing

My younger brother is now officially in his 40s, which, as the older brother, is somewhat disconcerting. It's also disconcerting to see his past self with hair...

The Sylvia Boucher Mysteries

Just like Nancy Drew! 

Deadshot's Bad Date

Fake Woods on a Hill

Following Jeff's advice from my last post, I have attempted to create a more aesthetically pleasing Woods triptych. My photo manipulation skills will fool no one, but this was good practice. Pretend the leaves on Sean's arm are a badass tattoo, and try not to notice the back of the pickup truck.