“we suspect we are machines whose sole function is to degrade gracefully.”
“we suspect we are machines whose sole function is to degrade gracefully.”
Like previous Falling Rock collections, Falling Rock National Park 2012 was printed with care by the fine folks at Pinball Press using only Lorax-approved materials. Post-consumer recycled paper, chipboard covers made from recycled dreams, and soy-based ink. It is important to me that the physical manifestation of Falling Rock hews closely to the ideology of the strip itself.
Don’t waste any more precious time reading about Falling Rock National Park 2012; you can purchase a copy and actually read it. Right here!
Falling Rock National Park 2012 is the culmination of the 2011-2012 year, with 67 hand-picked comics plus one secret ingredient (hint: it’s love). This is also the very last Falling Rock daily strip collection. As I’ve said before, Falling Rock will continue as a periodical rather than the four panels a day you’ve grown accustomed to. Falling Rock 2012 represents not only a milestone but an ending.
There are some really well-designed beer labels out there. I like studying the labels on the bottle between sips. It got me a-thinkin’, what would Friday Robots ale look like? I couldn’t decide what kind of beer it would be. Amber? Wheat? Porter? I’ll let the internet chatrooms decide.
As a special bonus, I’m including the entire, uncropped image from last week’s Robots. I stitched this together from three photographs of the interior of a decommissioned submarine currently floating in the Willamette River.
Read no further! Loose lips sink ships. The Aliens have won already.
– the song that plays over the end credits is Carly Rae Jepsen’s Call Me Maybe
– the head Alien moves to Earth and takes the name Dr. Levon Buckles. He becomes a podiatrist.
– Crazy Credit alert! “Lead Alien Wrangler”
– since 2000, Ridley Scott has had it written into his contract that there will be a shot in the woods. Blades of light cut to the forest floor, floaties float in the air, a hawk will screech in the background. Slow-motion violence will ensue.
– Sigourney Weaver has a hilarious cameo as the ship’s cook
– the mission in peril, the ship dangerously low on fuel and supplies, the crew not having slept for days, the movie ends with all actors onscreen looking directly at the camera and saying “What would YOU do?” Cut to white text on black background: “THE END…..?”
I will do anything to narrow the chasm that separates the kind of man Paul Newman was and the kind of man I am.I jumped at the chance to drink the same beer Paul Newman was drinking in the movie Sometimes a Great Notion (based on a novel by one of Oregon’s trippiest natives, Ken Kesey).
Olympia Beer was a Pacific Northwest staple for many years. Originally brewed in Tumwater, Washington, a town in the same county as Olympia and located near the mouth of the Deschutes River. Olympia was the beer of choice around these parts before Portland became the microbrewing capitol it is today.
Just look at how much Paul Newman enjoys his bottle of Olympia. The bottles are brought out:
He takes a swig:
And can’t help but grin:
I wanted to have that much fun. The next time I was at my local organic grocer, I spied a six pack of the beer featured in the 30 year-old film and snapped it up. It took every ounce of self-restraint I had to keep myself from cracking one open on my drive home. But I stayed safe, opting to speed home, screech to a halt outside my house, ignore the bags of groceries sweltering in the trunk, grab the six pack and sprint inside, landing with a thud on the couch. When I popped the tab on my very first Olympia beer, my expectations were sky-high.
How did it rate? Well, I found myself let down by the taste of what could charitably be described as Near Beer. After a few sips, though, I began to wonder if what I was being disappointed by was, in fact, my own Portland-dwelling beer snobbery. I finished the thin, metallic brew. Was it me? Am I so used to beer with bizarre spices, aged in bourbon casks, that I cannot enjoy a simple American brew?
After inspecting the label, I was vindicated. Olympia Beer is no longer Olympia Beer. It is PBR. Check the website:
Like so many small old breweries, Olympia was bought then bought again until it was only a label owned by one of the three major beer companies. My disappointment was not so much for a beer I didn’t especially like, but for the fact that I’ll never get to be Paul Newman by drinking the same beer he drank. At least I still have his salad dressing.
A gentle reminder to all of you in the greater Chicagoland area: I’ll be exhibiting at the Chicago Alternative Comics Expo this weekend! CAKE seeks to answer the question, Is there a greater force for good than Neil Brideau? Neil and his posse of comics friends have truly made something special. I can’t wait to come be a part of the very first CAKE.
Take a gander at this amazing list of artists! I will be found at table 79, nice and cozy next to the creator of the Foldy Comic, Kenan Rubenstein. Come on down Saturday or Sunday. It’ll be worth your trip. I promise not all the comics there will be as staggeringly depressing as some Chicago cartoonists’.
This weekend I’ll be in Chicago at CAKE! Friday Robots are, of course, going with me for the ride…
This is probably as close as I’ll get to collaborating with Jeff Tweedy.
And lo, another comic convention has come to pass. The Chicago Alternative Comics Expo took place at the Columbia College campus in lovely (sunny, windy) downtown Chicago.
The man you see stoically trotting towards the entrance is none other than Greg Means, mastermind of Tugboat Press and all-around good guy. Greg is a fellow Portlander and it was good to see him in this far flung locale.
The Midwest! It has been a few years since I was last here. I had almost forgotten about the oppressive muggy heat and the friendly generous natives. I stayed with my college drinking buddy Charlotte, her husband Ed, and their two cats. Duck (pictured below) is the nice one. Squishy, the mean one, I only glimpsed once. I asked what would happen if I put my hand near him. I was told, there will be blood.
CAKE itself was a laugh and two halves. My tablemate Reid and I scored a totally sweet spot right next to the entrance. We were lucky enough to be standing beside my wonderwall Kenan and his tablemates, Betsey and Penina. Just around the corner you could find Chicagoland resident Tyrell Cannon (yes that is his real name), who next year will be sharing a table with me at [SPOILER ALERT] Emerald City Comicon in Seattle.
CAKE was my first comic convention not on a coast. This made it doubly special, since my first convention in the midst of the country was also my most successful since the first year I began going to conventions. It makes me giddy to think of all the folks who are now reading Falling Rock, Jack Ketch, and Tomb of the Zombies (not to mention my foldy comics). Thank you, Chicago, for making me feel so welcome. Thank you also to the tireless organizers, without whom CAKE would not have been the hit it was in its very first year.
If you’d like to see more CAKE next year, I suggest patronizing Quimby’s comic book shop either online or in person. I was finally able to visit that fine shop and found myself overwhelmed with the selection and presentation of low- and high-brow literature. I would also suggest checking out the impressive list of exhibitors CAKE brought to the (metaphorical and literal) table.
It was an excellent, but altogether too brief, excursion into the White City. I hope to be back next year.