Archive for September, 2009

today you can hear john lennon sneeze

Beatles remasters came out today.paul-john
I’m not sure who picked the date (9.9.09) to release these, but I do know John really liked the number 9. Songs he wrote: One After 909, Revolution #9, #9 Dream. Was this release date a coincidence or exceptionally good marketing? Only the Sun King knows.

There are lots of reviews floating around the internet, but probably my favorite is the one done by Bob Boilen at All Songs Considered. He and his show producer listen and comment on the remastered Sgt. Pepper.

For the record, I’m more of a White Album guy. It’s sprawling and sure, I rarely listen to Revolution #9, but there’s a lot to be discovered on that double album. I’ve been wondering for weeks which song or album I should listen to first. I might take Bob’s advice and listen to Sgt. Pepper.

You’ll notice a difference in my main website. With the help of an Irishman named Kevin, I’ve successfully updated it to a WordPress site. Now you can subscribe to my comic via an RSS feed. Eventually I’ll add older comics to the Archive; right now there is the last couple weeks’ worth.

The biggest change comes with the integration of my blog to the website. All my blog posts will now appear directly below the daily comic. For now I’ll continue posting here and there, but eventually I’ll move everything over there.

I hope you enjoy my writing enough to check out my comics, and vice versa. It’s a brave new world for Falling Rock. Friday Robots are definitely pleased at this high level of technology.

└ Tags:

Friday Robots

comic strip superstar

ryan_seacrestSince the beginning of American Idol, cartoonists across this great country of ours have been pining away at our drawing tables for a similar contest to come along. Why couldn’t there be an American Cartoonist? Aren’t we “hip” to the “jive”?*

We wanted the chance to go on live television and draw funny pictures in little boxes.

Finally, we got this chance.** Comic Strip Superstar is a contest put on by Andrews McMeel Publishing and In it, you create a totally new comic strip, draw 10 dailies and two Sundays, and send it through a series of tubes to the good people at Universal Press Syndicate. The overworked, malnourished Universal Press Syndicate editors, as well as a panel of All-Star judges, will read all submissions and narrow them down to the top ten. Those ten will be posted on and the ultimate winner will be chosen by reader vote. Jimmy Carter will be on hand to make sure the election is fair and untainted.

As winner, you’ll be crowned Comic Strip Superstar and given gobs of money, a book deal, and a chance to draw comics for the rest of your natural life. I think you also get to meet Garfield.

Naturally, I entered the contest. Who knows, right now some Universal editor could be pouring over my scribbles and thinking “the kid has talent!”

My submission is called “Blavin and Blobbes,” about a young girl and her best friend, a living blob of nuclear waste. Together they start a club: Boys Are Really aFul (BARF). It is both original and fun for the whole family; I am certain I’ve got a winner.

Seriously, I can’t reveal my real submission because I don’t want to get disqualified. But I will keep you updated with any news or information I glean in the next couple months. If I’m one of the lucky ten, you can be sure to read about it here. If I’m dumped after the first round, you can bet I’ll be bitter until the end of my days, drinking myself to death while muttering obscenities under the Hawthorne Bridge. Maybe I’ll meet some other cartoonists down there!

Kid Shay out.

**Sort of.

seriously, moths?

A few months ago I made a deal with the spiders in my apartment. I felt it was an honest, fair agreement worthy of Jimmy Carter. With one notable exception (when I had to Unleash The Fury), spiders haven’t caused a ruckus since the deal went public.

With moths, it is a different story.

I can see the usefulness of spiders. But a moth? What is your purpose? Let me answer for you: nothing. You have no purpose. You are superfluous. Seeing you in my apartment makes me question the very existence of God. What all-seeing, all-knowing creator would make such a worthless bug?

Moths, you cannot eat my clothes any more. I’m sick of pulling out a sweater at the beginning of winter only to find it riddled with holes, as if the sweater was engaged in heavy battle while I was busy wearing t-shirts.

My favorite winter cap, a present from my uncle, is also besmirched by your tiny moth mouths. Worse still, the cap is synthetic. There was absolutely no nutritional value to that cap. Why did you eat it?? I hate you, moths.

I’m also sick of this “fluttering around any light” you guys do. I’m trying to read after a long productive day. Little moths keep landing on my book and on me, only to take off, do a couple loop-de-loops, and land again. This has nothing to do with biological imperative. You are maniacal.

Like Israel and Egypt, spiders and I have an alliance. We have made peace where there was once war. Moths, you and I are more like the United States and Terrorism. (Or, Drugs.) There will never be peace because you hate me for being me. And you know what? I hate you, too. I will never negotiate with you, you little winged devils. I will write mean Country Western songs about you. I will draw comics that depict you as impotent, conniving, and petty. I will make fun of everything you hold dear, right to your inscrutable little faces.

You’ve made the mistake of angering a blogger, moths. That is a mistake you will long regret.

└ Tags: