You know for a week that was -1 because of a holiday, it sure felt like a grueling fucking work week. First few days during the teaching life always seems to feel that way. “Did I print this?”, “Am I going to have to piss during class because of the three Monster energy drinks in me?”, “Is this the semester I finally get black bagged for subversive syllabi?”

All those awful thoughts and more. Condensed into four days. But now it’s the fucking Weekend! Which actually means class prep! But fuck class prep right now! #YOLOCORE.

Keep Reading »

This is all a rental.

From the computer you’re typing on to the meat-sack you’re inhabiting. All will be recycled, reused, converted into a variety of different forms. In my case, very much upcycled. Rejoice for as long as the collection of atoms, elements, and moments that is You can successfully stave off Entropy.

This is all a rental.

You’re slowing down. Dissolving. Inching closer to the Bin where your reconstitution shall take place.

But while we’re here, while This Matter still makes You, let’s have some fun. This is Monday Morning Commute. The column where You share what you’re intending to do during the week. So long as your dissolving, perpetually-ending, decaying meat-sack allows you.

This is all a rental.

Keep Reading »

Hello, friends. Welcome to Weekend Open Bar. The column at the end of the Space-Week where we gather to celebrate us making it through another grind. Or if you’ve been on vacation like me all week, it is the column to just sort of sit around and shoot the shit with friends. I’ll confess, the Halls of the Space-Ship have been lonely as of late. So I don’t know what to expect.

Keep Reading »

“It was a goddamn proles paradise”, my great-great-great-great grandson will say. He will decline to comment on how the machinery hauling ice off of the asteroids took his arm, crushing it between deadlines and an unforgiving ship hull. He will never, ever comment on how he lost his husband to a beautiful bartender and her false promises of making a new life on Mars. “It was a goddamn proles paradise”, he will repeat. Staring into the amber forgiveness of his drink. “Everyone could have a job if they wanted one”, declining to mention what those jobs were. “Everybody could make a life if they wanted one”, never actually describing what that life would be like.

But that’s another tale, for another day. All of us lead-foots here on the Blue Marble can only look forward to our great-great-great-great grandchildren and their expeditions in the Asteroid Belt with wonder. With anticipation. For us, the skies are still ceilings, and the planets still empty promises. To fulfill these yearnings we turn to narratives, to music, art, film, television, comic books.

These are the comic books I’m looking forward to this week. How about you?

Don’t know what’s coming out? Check a list of this week’s releases right here!

Keep Reading »

It’s true. Nature doesn’t fucking care. About you. About me. About the flitting, infinitesimal blip on the Cosmic Radar that is Humanity. And man, that’s fine. That’s cool. We’re all going to be dead. Dead for a lot longer than we’re alive. Nature’s just going to carry on. We won’t register. It doesn’t matter. What to do in the face of such Truth? Keep rollin’ that rock. Have a wonderful time while you’re here. Make your own meaning.

Here’s a quiet Monday Morning Commute, as I’m surrounded by the Indifferent but Beautiful Nature here in Nova Scotia.

Keep Reading »

Hey friends! Pull up a stool. Pound your beverage of choice. Be it monkey urine, which is empirically proven to make you stronger, and run faster. Like the Reebok Pumps of liquids. Or be it alcohol, which will make me more appealing, and less annoying in your eyes! Whatever you drink of choice, slam it down and then enter this column. Weekend Open Bar. Where we shoot the shit for the 48 hours that The Man lets us have to pretend we live fulfilling lives. Or, if you have to work, bitch in here about how the Weekend Grind is a condemnable offense in the Eyes of the Lords of Kobol.

Keep Reading »

It’s Wednesday, friends. Which means one thing. Namely, that my wife (to be) is coming home tomorrow from her business trip. And that fucking jizz rocket that bombed past my head earlier today as I wanked it for the 300th time since she left has yet to be found. I’m almost positive it punctured time and space, rupturing the Fabric of It All. Maybe it hit some nun in a McDonald’s on the other side of the planet. Whatever the case, I cannot fucking find it. And I’m worried.

But if Wednesday has to mean two things, the second would be that it’s time for another edition of Buy These Flippin’ Comics. Where we share the funny books we’re snagging on a given week. Me? For yours truly, this week is wrought with metaphysics, inspiring younglings, and the return of a favorite writer. Don’t know what’s dropping?

Check a list of this week’s releases right here!

Keep Reading »

Reality is, at best, a tenuous set of consensual hallucinations that we share with one another. Our greasy faces, our fat, gibbering jowls, our swollen, offensive ocular meat-balls all nodding in agreement at the barest, most pathetic concept of reality we hew together as Man. But hey. What the fuck do you want out of me? I can’t do shit about it. #YOLO So I’m going to live my life, dimly aware that my beliefs are conjured by a primitive brain-steak based on embarrassingly limited means of perception, and also play some video games. Love my fellow man. Hold doors, say please and thank you. Read some books. And watch Brock Lesnar give people the F5. ‘Cause really there’s no reason to do otherwise.

This is Monday Morning Commute – the column where we list the various ways we’re staving off staring into the Abyss and realizing how fucking Dumb It All Is. Generally these ways take the form of arts, farts, cheap beers, and ideally – Skittles.

I’ll go first.

Keep Reading »

It’s Friday! Friday! Friday! Which is probably less exciting to me. Being on semester break. Funny thing about weekends when you’re unemployed. They don’t quite mean so much, except you get to hang out with all your working friends. But none the less! Fun shall be had. By me. Food shall be consumed. By me. And I’m going to frequent this goddamn insane column, Weekend Open Bar.

Keep Reading »

…and so just as it was prophesied in the Rotting Tome, confirmed in the veins-reading of the Blood Taco, and proselytized in the Halls of Manic Mistakes, it has come to pass. Weep or rejoice, for the message has been confirmed. “The Caffeinated One shall know Only The Solace of His Own Touch, for in his Time the Many Shall Become One.” Or in other words: you fucks are stuck with me writing this column now. And uh, pretty much every column. Every-everything here on Omega-Level. It’s fine. I’m fine. We’ll be fine.

—Anyways! Hey, fucks! This is Buy These Flippin’ Comics!!! And despite my caffeine problems, swollen prostate, and abandonment issues, I’m really fucking pumped for comics. As always! So let’s come together and share the various fucking funny books we’re buying this week. My choices this week run the gamut  from a Princess Warrior, to Time-Freezing Orgasms, to Yet Another Marvel Event

The entire list of this week’s comic book releases can be found right goddamn here.

Keep Reading »