Best Scene in the Show

Best Scene of the Show, originally uploaded by PaulBrianMcCoy.

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So Much for That...

Letters Reveal Mother Teresa's Secret, Book Of Iconic Nun's Letters Shows She Was Tormented By Her Doubts In Her Faith

"According to her letters, Mother Teresa died with her doubts. She had even stopped praying, she once said."

Fascinating!

How Political Psychology Explains Bush's Ghastly Success.

Their first experiment was published in 1989. To test the hypothesis that recognition of mortality evokes "worldview defense"--their term for the range of emotions, from intolerance to religi- osity to a preference for law and order, that they believe thoughts of death can trigger--they assembled 22 Tucson municipal court judges. They told the judges they wanted to test the relationship between personality traits and bail decisions, but, for one group, they inserted in the middle of the personality questionnaire two exercises meant to evoke awareness of their mortality. One asked the judges to "briefly describe the emotions that the thought of your own death arouses in you"; the other required them to "jot down, as specifically as you can, what you think will happen to you physically as you die and once you are physically dead." They then asked the judges to set bail in the hypothetical case of a prostitute whom the prosecutor claimed was a flight risk. The judges who did the mortality exercises set an average bail of $455. The control group that did not do the exercises set it at an average of $50. The psychologists knew they were onto something.

That's All It Takes?

This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:

• dead (5x)
• ass (3x)
• shit (1x)

I kind of figured I'd get an "R", but that's all it found objectionable? I guess it's a good thing it doesn't rate for actual content.

Woman sets fire to ex-husband's penis

Woman sets fire to ex-husband's penis

"It was monstrously painful," the wounded ex-husband told Tvoi Den newspaper.

(I think Tvoi Den is Russian for "Duh Magazine".)

Out-of-body experience recreated

BBC NEWS | Health | Out-of-body experience recreated

Guess Who's Back in the MU?

Living Dead Girlz

The Living Dead Girlz

If the Pussycat Dolls were dead. But kept dancing...

Separated At Birth?

DJANGO
ANGRY SQUIRREL

Best Concert Souvenirs Ever!

CLUTCH

Fire, Titties, Midgets, and Grannies: Clutch In Huntington!!!

I’ve seen Clutch live twice before last night; both times in Charleston in a little club, jam-packed with sweaty people, all enjoying the hell out of the show, but nothing really memorable has happened at either show. Last night’s performance in Huntington was very different. Maybe it’s because my girlfriend went with me to see her first Clutch show. I don’t know. But something was in the air.

Before going in, one bum, sitting awkwardly against a tree between the line to get into the club and the street asked everyone who passed by for change. No big deal. Nothing odd about that at all, really. Then another bum got in line and began chatting up the guys a few people back from us. The most memorable lines:

“You know what the worst thing about waking up today was?”

“Um, no?” replied the hesitant, but curious and slightly amused music geek.

“Waking up in jail.” Accompanied by a long exhalation of fetid breath.

“Um, yeah. That sucks,” replied the now edging away from the bum and no longer slightly amused music geek.

Once inside, things were pretty cool. The place was huge, the drinks weren’t too terribly expensive (for a concert night), and the band souvenirs were moderately priced (20 bucks for a t-shirt is much better than the 40 bucks Tool wanted a few weeks ago). I ran into a former student, and current friend (although I haven’t heard from him in probably a year). We chatted about comics for a bit and then my girlfriend and I got some drinks and went to check out the first opening band.

Backyard Tire Fire was their name, and at first they seemed pretty cool. However, after a song or two it became obvious that they really weren’t that cool. It was southern flavored “blues-rock” from central Illinois, and there wasn’t much variety to it. They might have been okay as just a regular bar band somewhere, but we were there to see Clutch, and I wanted something more creative from the openers.

Anyway, once they were finished, girlfriend and I went back into the bar portion of the club where it was cooler, with good air flow and lots of room. That was when we saw the cute midget girl. Although to be honest, we’d seen her earlier, but it had just been a glimpse as she made her way through the crowd past us. I thought that surely someone hadn’t brought their kid with them, but you could get in if you were under 18 if your parents took you, so you never know.

But it wasn’t a child; it was a cute midget girl with a lot of tattoos. She seemed cool and was hanging around with some friends, so I continued to watch the fans wander back in forth around us. There was a predominantly overweight, bearded, and ponytailed contingent that made up the majority of Clutch fans (from my experience, anyway). Since I’m also bearded, ponytailed, and working on a nice gut, I felt at home and considered getting a group together to discuss hair care and how to keep our ponytails from tangling. Because I was amusing myself with thoughts of asking guys what conditioners they used, I missed the cute, tattooed midget wrapping herself around a guy’s leg and humping it to great comedic effect.

But I did see a guy with the tiny, birth-defect arm, so I didn’t miss out on all the cool stuff between acts.

The second act, we didn’t even go back in to watch, since it was really hot in there and we could hear them just fine from where we were. They are called Year Long Disaster and I saw them open for Clutch last year in Charleston. They’re pretty good, with a lot of interesting variety in their songs. I liked them.

Then it was time for Clutch. We grabbed another couple of beers and situated ourselves near the soundboard, where we figured there wouldn’t be much traffic, but we were so wrong as to defy belief. People bumped their ways by us through the whole show, which was really annoying at first, but then I decided to just try to change my attitude and enjoy it as part of what makes a Clutch show a Clutch show (if that makes any sense). It was kind of communal in that way, as even though people were squeezing past us, the vast majority of them were polite, excusing themselves with at most a pat on the shoulder to let you know they were passing. (There were a couple of people who just kind of charged though, but they were pretty large and you could see them coming and get out of their way – until they came back from behind us, anyway.) However, I must admit, I was glad the preppie, fratboy guy in front of me (with his sunglasses up on top of his head, no less), kept his distance.

Simply put, Clutch kicked ass. It was the best show I’ve seen them put on. The set list was like a greatest hits compilation, and they played “Shogun Named Marcus”, “El Jefe Speaks”, “Animal Farm”, "The House That Peterbilt", “Easy Breeze”, “Hoodoo Operator”, “Rats”, “Burning Beard”, "(In the Wake of) The Swollen Goat", "Red Horse Rainbow", "Gravel Road", “You Can’t Stop Progress/Power Player”, “The Devil & Me”, “Child of the City”, “Black Umbrella”, and “Electric Worry/One Eyed Dollar” (I’m probably missing others, too). It was during “Electric Worry” that the show went from being just a great show to one that would burn itself into my memory for, I’m sure, years to come.

As the song was getting going, I felt a hand on my back. This was nothing unusual, as I’d mentioned, except for that fact that it lingered for a moment. Then it touched my ponytail. Thinking “what the hell?” to myself, I looked around to see no one there. Then I looked down (and no, it wasn’t the midget), and saw a thin girl with a lot of long blond hair, bent double. She then straightened up, flinging her hair up and around in pure stripper mode. She was drunker than anyone I’d seen drunk in a looooong time and dancing like she was ready to mount whoever got in her way. It was the kind of drunk where she was probably going to wake up the next morning in a bathtub wondering why she was covered in semen.

She used my arm as a stripper pole a couple of times, much to the amusement of a guy who looked just like Matt Pinfield. He had the biggest grin I’d ever seen. This was probably his best show ever, too. When I wasn’t interested in dancing with her, she shifted around to “Matt”, thrashing him with her hair before spinning around and rubbing her ass against him. Without question, it was now his best show ever.

I tried to enjoy the show, but kept stealing glances to see what was going on next. After a few moments with “Matt”, she moved around to give some attention to a tall, lean, music-nerd looking guy. He seemed friendly and reminded me of a guy I went to school with and haven’t heard from in years. He also got the butt-rub, lapdance routine, and seemed not to know what to do. It was kind of funny, and Matt was laughing mightily.

The next time I glanced around, she had fixed her eyes on someone behind me, and slowly slid her shirt up to reveal her titties. Mine are bigger. Most of the guys at the show had bigger boobs, to be honest, but beggars can’t be choosers, and all that. My girlfriend missed the titties, which I think makes up for me missing the midget girl leg-humping. I tried to get a little more distance between us then, because usually once the titties come out, vomiting is sure to follow.

The next time I glanced around, she was gone. “Matt Pinfield” and Music-Nerd were laughing together and “Matt” did a disturbing reenactment of the ass rub lapdance moves on Music-Nerd. He also seemed disturbed. But “Matt” kept laughing. It was, of course, the best show he’d ever seen. Turns out, according to Music-Nerd, drunk girl had bent over to do another of her dazzling hair flips and bashed her skull against the metal railing (where “Matt” and MN were leaning). She looked like she was going to pass out and stumbled off through the crowd, probably to go throw up somewhere.

Then, on the other side of the room, I saw a light. There was a guy standing on the bar holding a bottle with flames leaping out. My first thought was “Molotov cocktail! Oh shit!”, but then he started motioning like he was about to do something amazing. And then he breathed fire out over the heads of the crowd (most of whom, I’m sure, had no idea he was there or about to spew flames over their ponytails). He followed the first burst of flame with another quick blast and then jumped back down behind the bar. I’m pretty sure that the entire bottle was engulfed in flames at that point, but there were no shrieking “I’m on fire” noises from the bar, so I guess he was ok. My girlfriend missed this too, not being able to interpret my “Look over there! Fire!!” gestures.

Also, at some point earlier, a woman who was somewhere between 50 and 60, along with her mom, passed us from the depths of the crowd. They were both dressed as if they were going to the mall on Sunday afternoon. I don’t know if the heat just got the old lady, or if she’d been kicked or landed on by a crowd surfer. Regardless, the younger old woman helped her out and then moments later was back cutting through the crowd to get back into the throng.

The show ended with Clutch coming out for an encore and playing “Big News I & II” (!!!) with an extended jam in the middle. After bobbing around in the sea of bodies for almost two hours, we were drenched in sweat (most of it not our own) as if we’d been dipped in actual waters. Oddly enough, none of the people around us were especially smelly, with most of them actually smelling of perfume or soap! Amazing! It really was the best show I’ve ever been to. Not only was the band in prime form, playing most of my favorite songs from their entire catalog, but the overall experience was one I’ll never forget. Our ears were so cottony and ringy after the show we could barely hear a different bum ask for change as we left around 12:30. And all for only 20 bucks per ticket.

Retirement of Street Fighter

Sonny Chiba announces action retirement
TOKYO -- Action icon Shinichi "Sonny" Chiba announced his retirement from action thesping under his Japanese stage name at a press conference in Tokyo on Monday, citing his age, 68, and physical decline. He also said that he intends to teach at his alma mater, Nippon Sport Science University, and launch his own acting school in Japan.

Jon Lovitz Never Lets Me Down

COMIC CLOBBERS COMIC IN L.A.
July 17, 2007 -- IT was fight night at an L.A. comedy club last week when Jon Lovitz roughed up Andy Dick over the murder of their "Saturday Night Live" colleague, Phil Hartman.

Laugh Factory owner Jamie Masada, who witnessed the assault, said, "Jon picked Andy up by the head and smashed him into the bar four or five times, and blood started pouring out of his nose." Lovitz told Page Six, "All the comedians are glad I did it because this guy is a [bleep]hole."

Amazing...

Gunman crashes party, gets hugs
It started about midnight on June 16 when a group of friends was finishing a dinner of marinated steaks and jumbo shrimp on the back patio of a District of Columbia home. That's when a hooded man slid through an open gate and pointed a handgun at the head of a 14-year-old girl.

"Give me your money, or I'll start shooting," he said, according to D.C. police and witnesses.

Everyone froze, including the girl's parents. Then one guest spoke.

"We were just finishing dinner," Cristina "Cha Cha" Rowan, 43, told the man. "Why don't you have a glass of wine with us?"

The intruder had a sip of their Chateau Malescot St-Exupery and said, "Damn, that's good wine."

The girl's father, Michael Rabdau, 51, told the intruder to take the whole glass, and Rowan offered him the whole bottle.

The robber, with his hood down, took another sip and a bite of Camembert cheese. He put the gun in his sweatpants.

The story then turns even more bizarre.

"I think I may have come to the wrong house," he said before apologizing. "Can I get a hug?"

Rowan, who works at her children's school and lives in Falls Church, Va., stood up and wrapped her arms around the armed man. The four other guests followed.

"Can we have a group hug?" the man asked. The five adults complied.

The man walked away a few moments later with the crystal wine glass in hand. Nothing was stolen, and no one was hurt.

Pit Bull Sodomizes 2 Year Old Boy

WIVB TV4 Buffalo, Niagara Falls, New York News and Weather - Bizarre and Disturbing Dog Attack

Comics for the Week of June 20

Let's go from worst to best, okay? Okay.

1. Countdown 45: Worst of the week (that I purchased, anyway). No mention of Mary Marvel. No mention of the Rogues (who, apparently, had a big day over in Flash, making Piper's and Trickster's conversation a couple of weeks ago about their respective motivations fairly tragic). And the Jimmy Olson storyline just spins its wheels, with no advancement at all.

This week's issue is focused on establishing the character of Forerunner and she's not all that. Holly gets a page and Karate Kid gets two, and neither really amount to much (although at least Holly's has a pretty obvious mystery guest). Oh, and in the very last panel of the story, there's another mystery character who's interested in Forerunner. I wish I was.

The art is serviceable, but very weak overall, especially with faces and expressions. Those scenes with Donna Troy grabbing a machine gun were not very good at all. And I have no idea what she's deflecting with her bracelets. This was, overall, another big letdown issue. Not quite as bad as the second issue, but nearly so.

2. Ex Machina 29: I can't decide if this title is just getting dull or if I'm just getting tired of it. Nothing much ever seems to happen, or at least nothing that happens ever seems to lead to anything. And it takes its sweet time getting there, at that. Essentially, this whole "Power Down" arc has been so the mystery character (from the future? an alternate timeline? who knows?) can tell Hundred that something bad is coming. As much as I like this book overall, it's on the verge of being dropped.

3. From here on out it's all good, though. Iron Man 19 crosses over with World War Hulk and gets a guest writer, Christos Gage, in the bargain. While a lot of the book is looking at the events in WWH from Iron Man's perspective, there's a bit more going on, as well. The characterizations are sharp and believable, making me wish this quality of writing had been going on during Civil War. Butch Guice's art is solid and dynamic as always, and is given a very distinctive punch with the coloring of Dean White. I don't know if it's painted or computer effects, but I like it. It gives the book a very distinct and classy look.

I'm really looking forward to more of this story.

4. Next comes The Incredible Hulk 107. Again, there's some rehash of WWH 1, but only a little, as it tends to leak in from the edges of the scenes we're reading here. I've only read Hulk consistently two times in my life. Back when Bruce Jones was writing (before he dragged the story on for too long and began mischaracterizing characters with no explanation -- Crusher Creel, I'm looking at you!), and now, since Greg Pak has been writing. This is good, violent, compelling, and dramatic work. It only gets better with the art of Gary Frank thrown into the mix.

Story-wise, the main focus is on the supporting cast (with Hercules getting the best moments and the best lines -- I'd pay for a Pak written Hercules series, for sure) as sides are chosen. The question is, though, does Hulk need or even want anybody else's help in this situation? Good stuff.

5. Captain America 27 keeps chugging forward as The Winter Soldier (Bucky to you old-schoolers out there), keeps chugging forward with his plan to respect Cap's memory by killing Tony Stark (Iron Man). There doesn't seem to be a lot happening, for some reason, when actually quite a bit of storytelling and character work is going on. Sharon takes the gun from her mouth and puts on her (very Emma Peel) work clothes, Falcon doesn't do much but enable her, and we find out that Bucky had a fling with Black Widow when she was in training and he was a brainwashed Russian killing machine. Interesting narrative threads keep getting developed, as they do every month in this title, and I'm in no hurry for Steve Rogers to be resurrected.

The art was much more consistent this issue, and I can't tell when Epting and Perkins switch anymore. Maybe my eye just isn't that good or maybe they're starting to morph into each other. I don't know. Either way, it was good and very clearly and dramatically told the story.

6. Best of the week, this week, however, is the launch of another mini-event. Annihilation - Conquest: Prologue, written by Dan Abnett and Andy Lanning, with art by Mike Perkins, is firing on all cylinders right out of the gate. By staying focused on two main storylines, the story gets a major thrust and serves as almost perfect motivation to pick up the three minis (and crossover into Nova) that spin out of this event -- not to mention the actual Annihilation - Conquest mini that follows those.

I wasn't sure if they'd be able to really establish a threat big enough to warrant another Annihilation event, but I must say, the set-up here is a good one. The Kree are good and fucked. By setting up a barrier to Kree space and dealing with the characters trapped inside during the invasion, we get a nice contrast to the constantly expanding threat of the first series. Of course, invasion is a bit inaccurate. Like the title says, this is a conquest. It's short and sweet, and a bit predictable as a plot point, but well executed in the narrative. The bio-mechanical nature of the Big Bad makes for some very creepy visuals and each of the characters has a very nice set-up to lead in to their respective minis.

I'm just curious to see how they incorporate Rocket Raccoon and the Micronauts' Bug.

Overall, this was good large-scale sci-fi action adventure and hopefully will continue to pay off in the months to come.
______________________________________

In other comics reading news, this week I picked up trades 1 and 2 of The Goon, both of which were very entertaining, if kind of light on content. Like the Hellboy comics, there was a lot of good action, clever characters and situations, and very entertaining humor. But it didn't leave much of an impact on me, just like the Hellboy comics. Maybe I'm just not invested in the characters enough. It was good on just about every level, especially visually, as Eric Powell has a fantastic eye and realization of his ideas.

I also read Ian Edginton's and D'Isreli's new sequel to Scarlet Traces (which I loved!!): Scarlet Traces: The Great Game. This also serves as a sequel to their ST prequel, an adaptation of War of the Worlds (upon which the Scarlet Traces books are based). While this story is nicely realized and well written, something feels a bit off about it. It's as if the limitations inherent in the narrative world, effect the pacing of the story itself, if that makes any sense. The England of the last story and this one, is an England that has used the Martian tech to become the dominant world power and to engage the Martians by bring the war to Mars.

There are a lot of good ideas tossed into this story. The paranoia and government clampdown on civil liberties effectively mirrors our contemporary situation and the characters are all well done (and a hero from the previous story makes a welcome return), but there's a lot that doesn't work very well for me. The casual beating to death of the gay newspaper publisher (who saved our returning hero from a life of alcoholic homelessness) was a bit of a shock. He was a good character who seemed to just get tossed aside when his plot purpose was resolved.

The main character's transport to, arrival on, and subsequent discovery on Mars were all handled rather quickly (which may have more to do with the original publication format and schedule). The resolution, with the removal of the corrupt, totalitarian government and the new golden age of England beginning, also seemed like more of an afterthought than real plot developments. I was also a bit disturbed by the revelation (in the actual plot of the story) of the fact that the evil Prim Minister and his hateful, condescending ally turn out to be entirely justified in their war on Mars. They were only doing what was necessary to preserve England and, by extension, Earth. Luckily the Martians obliterated them, giving them their just rewards after they saved Earth with their evil schemes. Of course, the new England is a brighter, more enlightened place, after the war.

I don't really know what to make of that. I'm all for muddying the morality waters in the telling of tales, but I'm not sure about the revelation that the Evil bad guys of the previous story were actually doing the right thing all along. Just a little too vigorously, maybe?

Anyway, it's not as good a read as the previous installments, but still a nice chapter in the ongoing reinterpretation of H.G. Wells' original story. There were a few interesting moments regarding the original inhabitants of Mars, with Edger Rice Burroughs and Ray Bradbury visual nods. Unfortunately, they are only mentioned in passing. Just like most of the actual story here.

Good News for Cancer Patients

Nanospheres leave cancer no place to hide - tech - 21 June 2007 - New Scientist Tech

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