March 2008 Archives

Inspriation via Procrastination.

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Someone ought to start a school for women in a major metropolis, geared towards training them how to mingle in celebrity circles with the ultimate goal of becoming arm candy/a financial burden to a powerful man.

I'm serious. The thing is so many chicks want this (and only this) out of life anyway, it would probably be a profitable scheme.

The school's fields of study could be divided into subsets about how to land a specific type of walking wallet... rock star, foreign royalty, film star, investment banker, and so on... with short, one-day classes about the advantages and pitfalls of each.

Basic classes would be stuff like

Stealing Him From His Wife
If All Else Fails, Get Knocked Up for the Child Support
So the Media's Noticed: Capitalizing on Unexpected Temporary Fame
"I'm on the list!": Getting Where the Boys Are
Marriages or Mistress: Which is Right for your Relationship?
Fat White Envelopes: What to do with The Cash He's Giving You
Pouting, Crying and Mom's Operation: Getting Him to Write Those Checks
A Pre-Nup Means You Don't Love Me!
10 Things Women Do Than Screw Up Great Catches

And so on. The approach would be mercenary, Machiavellian and direct. It wouldn't be about love, it would be about a life plan that centered around squeezing as much money out of wealthy men as possible before the age of 35, with the assumption he'll lose interest after the first wrinkles.

Hm. Maybe this would make a better forgettable Hollywood movie than an actual school.

Comics tomorrow.

The Deal.

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A few quick things.

In case you're not all over my Twitter or forums or somesuch, Templar's joined Keenspot. That's sort of a secret treehouse club of webcomics, except we don't have any lockboxes full of salt water taffy and Dad's Playboys.

This won't mean much to you guys, except for the new header bar and newsbox. It does, however, mean bunches and bunches to the likes of me, primarily in the "Wouldn't it be cool to make a living wage from a webcomic?" category. With any luck, this will improve my traffic and exposure. My feed addresses, domain, and host won't change though, so yeah, as you were.

Also, Templar is only just back on track after two weeks of missed updates due to a stupendously unreal bout of the flu. I can now describe the sensation of multiple bodily orifices evacuating simultaneously, and the decision-making process that accompanies deciding which one gets access to the toilet. It's not really an experience I'd recommend. I'm all better now, though. Recent orders have been sent, commission orders are chugging along, and I'm about a quarter done remastering the pages for the print edition of chapter two.

This is the cover art for book 2. Part of it, anyway.

I've got a big overhaul of my sales page coming up, too; the addition of some heavily discounted misprints, a package deal for the upcoming book 2 preorder drive with a new t-shirt, possibly some posters. Lots of stuff.

I need to update my con schedule, too, because I'll be hitting SDCC, SPX, Wizard World Chicago, Anime Central, and MoCCA this year. God help meeeee.

In non-comic news, my computer's video card breathed its last only just before I went down with the flu. I won't be getting Dell to pay for it, unfortunately, because I put it in myself, and the warranty expired ages ago. Kinda sucky. But hey, the DVD drive is starting to make irritable cat noises, so who knows? Maybe that friendly Dell repair guy that dropped in with my new power supply will be making a repeat performance sometime soon!

Practically a brand new computer, folks. Not happy over here. Oh, well. Live and learn.

Let's play a game!

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I AM NOT A DEMON.
The game for between four and ten players who think themselves clever.

Concept!

Right now, today, as you're reading this, there are tribes deep in the Amazonian rainforest who have no contact with the outside world. This is absolutely and one hundred percent true. These tribes manage this by killing anyone unfamiliar they happen to come across.

I AM NOT A DEMON is about what would happen if you, the hapless adventurer, stumbled unwittingly into one of their camps and were instantly taken prisoner.

The only reason you have not been killed immediately is, by some spectacular stroke of luck, you are completely fluent in this tribe's obscure dialect. Unfortunately, due to a combination of stupidity, nervousness, and unthinking fear, you keep peppering your speech with strange English words from the civilized world. The tribe is assuming these words to be curses or witchcraft, and the urge to spear you to death spikes with each mention of an unfamiliar concept or object, like television, the International Space Station, or Britney Spears.

In the game, the other players provide the current target with a word he or she must explain to the tribe in order to avoid being murdered. They have one minute to give a satisfactory explanation, unless they're being really funny or awesome, in which case it's okay to run a little long. The other players then vote on the answer provided. A simple majority decides whether the player is allowed to live or has been killed for his or her stupidity, in which case that player is "out." Players that have been "killed" then become full-time 'tribespeople," and are restricted to voting on answers from then on.

Rules!

The Amazonian tribe is at a stone age tech level, and so is their language. They have no knowledge of (or words for) things like plastic, steel, internal combustion engine, radiation, December, power outlet, etc., and any attempt to explain one witchcraft word using other witchcraft words should be immediately punished with death.

The player has nothing to assist them with their explanations. Your laptop, iPod, cell phone, and whatever else were instantly smashed the moment you were captured. You're not allowed to call a friend, consult Wikipedia, or attempt to distract the natives with a flashlight or lighter. That is exactly the kind of thing that will get you killed.

The players cannot say "I don't know" or "It's magic" as part of any explanation. If you tell them you don't know what a word you just used is, they'll assume you're lying and they will kill you. And they already think the word you just used is magic. That's why they want to stab you, remember?

Players take turns, once each round. The word chosen for each player is the first word called out by another player. The clock starts immediately. This leaves plenty of room to be an asshole... Asking your friends to define "cytoplasm" or "Rosh Hashanah" when you know they don't know, for example... but if you want to take the game from Fun Territory to Asshole Territory, that's your call.

There are two ways to play: Mandatory Elimination, where the player with the least satisfactory explanation is executed every round, and Long Haul, where eliminations are not mandatory. The former might be best for parties. The latter would probably be really good for car trips or waiting in airports. I dunno, this hasn't been playtested. Not really, anyway.

Still a little confused?

Examples!

Television: "A television is a shining light in a big shell. The light tells stories with sounds and pictures. Some of stories are made-up, and some are true. Some are stories it's told before, and some are new stories. The television tells stories all day and all night, it never stops. If you wake up in the middle of the night and go to the television, it will even tell you a story then. It doesn't sleep. Where I am from, almost everybody has a television."

The International Space Station: "This is a place where very smart people live. It's higher than the trees, higher than the clouds, and higher than the sky. It floats over everything like a cloud, in a place where you can always see stars. All the tribes far away from here built it together."

Britney Spears: "Britney is a woman who sings, but then went crazy. That was probably because people were always watching her, and telling her she was fat. She shaved her head and accidentally showed everyone her vagina, and then no one wanted to hear her sing anymore, they just wanted to watch her and hope she did more stupid things. And she did. She married a worthless man, and had babies she can't take care of. Every time she does a stupid thing, everyone forgets everything else and talks about what she did. We shouldn't, but we do."

...

Yeah, this is how I spend my evenings. Thinking this nonsense up.

Seriously, someone play this and tell me how it goes.

An explanation of what I've been doing for the last two weeks, a new page of Templar, and some actual news tomorrow. G'nite!

Templar: Back in the Saddle!

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But too busy to do more than link you!

More news later, I promise and swear to you.

As Spike and I have been spending the past few days enjoying a really amazing influenza infection, I'm afraid I have to warn everyone of a delay in Templar updates, email correspondence, and whatever else she'd be working on now if she wasn't passed out on the couch with a fever. I'm thinking she'll be up and around by tomorrow or the day after, though.

Templar: Ben vs. Screaming Guy.

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He's not exactly rude, but I'm not really convinced that means anything.

Religious fanatics upstairs and Dr. Frankenstein in the basement. I believe this is what they refer to as "neighborhood color."

Still, Screaming Guy is not exactly screaming, yet. So maybe they're hope, right?

Me, I think he's running for a gun.

Templar: Not dead. Yet.

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Another action-packed page of Templar! HOLD ON TO YOUR SEATS, PEOPLE.

Please tell me you remember this guy. C'mon, it hasn't been THAT long.

Holy mother of God do I have a buttload of work to do, lately. So I'm gonna cut it short here. But before I do: Hmpf, I did not, in fact, get that email from you! Please resend, It should get through this time.

Later!

Templar: Dueling Theories.

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Who's right? No idea. Stay tuned.

So, here we are. A bit of light shed on Pippi's past, but not much. A hint of why she's living with Scip in the first place, but only just. A cause for Reagan's burning annoyance with the situation, but just a bit.

I'm stingy like that. TIME TO CHANGE THE SCENE!

Hey, remember me going on about summore art theft in a previous post? Jess Fink was vindicated, and Hot Topic pulled the copycat shirt, laying the blame squarely (surprise, surprise) on a junior designer. Jess had to lawyer up to get a response, but a response came all the same. This is pretty reassuring, since I'll admit, I was betting Hot Topic was gonna gamble Fink wouldn't have the balls to sue and risk ignoring her.

Maybe they paid attention during the Shmorky/Todd Goldman rumble? Who knows. Probably not. I just like to think so.

On occasion, I do con panels on webcomics, and I get asked about what you should do if you find out you're being copied. My answer is that it depends. Is some 14-year-old on Deviant Art tracing your bishies? Lay the fuck off. Seriously, who cares? Stop it, you're not losing a single fan or a single dime. But when people start making money off of your work... eBaying shirts or cigarette cases with you art on them, selling stolen shirt designs, etcetera? Lawyer up, and go for the throat. No all-caps warning emails, no bitchin' and moanin' like a helpless victim. no climbing up on a cross. Just do it. Like Jess, like Shmorky.

And nope, I've never been stolen from that I know of. But then, I've never been very good with whimsy. That stuff draws the copycats like flies.

More Wednesday!

About this Archive

This page is an archive of entries from March 2008 listed from newest to oldest.

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