Holy smokes.

It’s been a long goddamn while, but I’ve finally managed to find my way back to Spaceship OL. What’s been keepin’ me? Why’s Caff-Pow been forced to man the wheel without my navigational assistance? Well, we were pushing the `ole Nerd-Bird through some specially turbulent space-waters and I went to check on the chimp cages. In the process, I fell overboard.

Yes, I’d been drinkin’.

Anyways, I ended up getting sucked into an Ennui Vortex and was propelled beyond my control through some of the vilest scenarios of my entire existence. There were Responsibility Phantoms and Work Monsters and Accountability Ghouls. Hell, at one point I floated through a strait that saw the Stress-Scylla on one side and the Overtime-Charybdis on the other.

It was terrible!

But lo! and behold! I survived! Here I am! The one and only Rendar Frankenstein, hack-writer extraordinaire, in the digital-flesh! And you’d better believe I’m here for some haphazard word-slingin’! So let’s shuffle off the stains of yesterday and strap on our immortal foils! After all, this is the MONDAY MORNING COMMUTE, the spot for sharing ideas about actualizing spiritual potential! How do we survive the onslaught of everyday malaise?

First, I’m goin’ to run you through some of the keys I’m using to unlock my mind. Then, you hit up the comments section and share the strategies you’ll be using to break open your idea-doors!

C’mon!

Read the rest of this entry »

[images & words is the comic book pick-of-the-week at OL. equal parts review and diatribe, the post highlights the most memorable/infuriating/entertaining book released that wednesday]

Spoilers Ahead. Forreal.

3. 2. 1. Blast off!

Once I’ve escaped Earth’s gravitational pull, I fire up the hyperdrive. I shoot past the moon, past Neptune, past the limits of our damn solar system. I disengage the primary thrusters and find myself in the middle an interstellar storm. I careen past stray panels and pixilated nuclear explosions and bits of what was once a moon. I could’ve sworn that I had set the proper coordinates. But my eyes are telling me different.

So are my onboard monitors. I watch the Galactic Positioning System power down, turning all of the maps and sequencers and frames of reference into nothing more than an abysmal black screen. A moment later, the GPS reboots. When the screen settles, it tells me that myth has become fact.

[You have reached Omega Level]

///

This week’s comic of choice is Batman #702.

I won’t lie; the decision to feature this book might be yet another testament to my dwindling sanity.

Read the rest of this entry »