A Post about “Injury”

Howdy, folks. Once again, I’ve proven that, even in a state of com­plete non-​activity, I will stum­ble upon new ways to hurt myself.

Specif­i­cally, a day or two ago, I must have slept on my right shoul­der in some unortho­dox way, because when I woke up, it was A) really sore, B) dif­fi­cult to move, and C) painful to move for long peri­ods of time. This was a prob­lem: draw­ing uses the whole arm, includ­ing the shoul­der. To be blunt, I no longer have the time to com­plete the comic in time for Tuesday.

Yes, that’s right: I hurt myself while sleep­ing. Rest assured, though it sounds pathetic, the matter is not tri­fling. I … sup­pose you’ll need to take my word for it, unless some­thing sim­i­lar has hap­pened to you in the past.

Anyway, I should prob­a­bly keep the comick­ing to a min­i­mum until the joint improves, which for the time being means that, instead of updat­ing the site with comics like I ought to do, I’ll be updat­ing the site with sketches of vary­ing qual­ity that I have lying around. (A jour­ney through the mind! What dis­cov­er­ies await?) Greg also says that he’ll be writ­ing two blog entries this week instead of one, so look out for those on Wednes­day and Thurs­day. (Secrets! Secrets from the future.)

It’ll be a bar­rage of extra-​comical con­tent! This might be … excit­ing? In any case, hang in there, guys and gals! We’ll pull through this. At least, that’s my hope.

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A Post about Late Night Findings

You’ve been there before, I’m sure. (How can you not, in a soci­ety fueled by caf­feine? Unless you make healthy lifestyle choices, of course.) You’re sleep­ing soundly in a warm bed some­where, and then BAM, Insom­nia is lean­ing over you and poking you in the eye. “Stop it,” you say. “You stupid jerk, stop it, I have work in the morn­ing, you’re a jerk and stop being a jerk.” What does Insom­nia say?

“No.” Keeps poking. You’ve just found a few hours’ free time!

It’s at times like these that you’re bound to run into odd phe­nom­ena, and I’m not talk­ing about ghosts in the mirror or bleed­ing portraits—I’m talk­ing about tele­vi­sion. There is some­thing in programmers’ minds that com­pels them to broad­cast weird, weird stuff during the wee hours, and prob­a­bly with weird reason. Good reason, I mean—good reason.

My weird­est encounter with late night pro­gram­ming hap­pened back in Illi­nois, when I stum­bled upon an episode of Image Union. It’s a pro­gram that fea­tures short films of vary­ing lucid­ity. Bingo by Chris Lan­dreth was play­ing, and var­i­ous people have since uploaded it online. Please try to imag­ine watch­ing this in the middle of the night:

More words after the cut

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