Wednesday, January 31, 2018

Does This House Not Have the Internet?


All of breakfast is basically just dessert. Your cereal has sugar in it or you may put more on. You pour syrup over everything or whip cream. Even if your breakfast consists of eggs, potatoes, and bacon, you will still have something sweet to go with it.

Tuesday, January 30, 2018

I Don't Know What the Teacher Expected


What in the world kind of grade school teaches about the Mayflower Compact? For those who don't know, the Mayflower Compact was a document written and signed aboard the Mayflower that established the first government of the Plymouth Colony. It was written because the people aboard the Mayflower who weren't escaping religious persecution said "Ain't no one the boss of us" and the Churchy McGees were like "Oh, yeah?"

Anyway, I looked it up and the Mayflower Compact isn't part of grade school curriculum. Middle school, yes. But not grade school.

Monday, January 29, 2018

And It's Just That One Paycheck

HAPPY 157th BIRTHDAY, KANSAS!!

Veeblefester is going to use those nice tax breaks that corporations got to reinvest in his company. Sadly, Veeblefester will never mention that those bonuses also come with a few layoffs or a cut in hours for some employees and certain politicians will threaten that if they aren't reelected that you'll never get another bonus for as long as you live but all that doesn't matter because you get a temporary tax cut that goes up significantly in two years and may or may not be renewed and a large chunk of money now that you probably won't put back into the economy.

Kansas In the Union!!

Kansas Admitted!
----
Reception of the News!
----
Yesterday Morning, The Conservative, in an extra, announced to the people of Leavenworth the long-wished for and glorious tidings of the passage of the Kansas Bill. The news flew like wild-fire. Men seemed to forget all other considerations, and to unite heart and hand in giving expression to the universal joy. At every corner might be seen throngs of enthusiastic people giving vent in cheers to the general gladness. At an early hour a large number of the members of the bar waited on Chief Justice Ewing and Judge McDowell, with their congratulations, and spent with them an hour of unwonted hilarity. About noon, old Kickapoo, in the presence of a joyous crowd, sent forth, in thunder tones, a greeting to the now sister State of Missouri. The day was given up to general rejoicing. Those who entertain the singular notion that the people of Kansas did'nt want to be admitted, would have been startled by the demonstrations of yesterday. Then hurra for the STATE OF KANSAS! Our days of probation have been long and tedious, but we believe the future, upon which we are about entering, will amply compensate for the dangers and toils of the past.

LET US ALL REJOICE!

In the troubles of Kansas was created that great party which, at the last national election, gave to the nation a President. Our position, as the battle ground upon which the new slavery issue was fought, gave us a prominence for which subsequent events developed our fitness. Upon us--a new people--emigrants and soldiers of fortune all, was precipitated the most momentous question which has ever yet agitated the American people. We met the issue. The history of Kansas, even now, stands prominent in the annals of the nation. To rehearse the story of the struggle between slavery and freedom in his Territory, would be but to recount a story familiar to the whole civilized world. Now is not the time or place for such a history.

The election of Lincoln, glorious as was the triumph, was, in our estimation, far less important and decisive than the admission of Kansas. Against our devoted people have been arrayed the whole force of the slavery power. The ingenuity of the pro-slavery partisans has been exested to its utmost to prevent the recognized expression of the will of the Free State people of Kansas. Every resource having been exhausted, the president, manly efforts, and the godlike courage of our people have at last prevailed, and the glorious reward, so gallantly earned, has been doled out to us with an unwilling hand. Yet we accept the boon--accept it gratefully, and hasten to take our place as a free State in the glorious Confederacy. Knowing as we do, the resources of our State, and the courage and endurance of our people, we feel that this accession will go far to fill the gap made by the seceding States.

Our people have an abiding love for, and a loving faith and confidence in the Union. This love and faith has been bred in the bone--it has stood the test of desertion, and even oppression; but is as strong and confident as ever. For them, we send greeting to the sister States, and if ever the time should come when the Union and the Constitution should call for defenders, we pledge the faith and the strong arm of that gallant people, who, for the institutions they loved, have heretofore trod the wine press of oppression, and come out unscathed in honor from the trial.

Then, to our Republican brethren of Kansas, we send one joyous greeting--to Republicans everywhere we extend the same joyous greeting. The grand stimulating triumph of Republicans has been achieved. Kansas has been admitted.

WE WILL FIGHT FOR THE UNION.

The news of the admission of Kansas, announced by THE CONSERVATIVE yesterday--and only by THE CONSERVATIVE, no other paper in Kansas having the news--was the most important that ever reached our borders.

Kansas was organized as a Territory more than six years ago. The bill organizing the Territories of Kansas and Nebraska became a law in May 1854. Up to that time, all territory north 36° 30' had been declared free by the Missouri Compromise. The Kansas-Nebraska Bill abolished the Missouri Compromise, and left the people of those Territories, as it said, "perfectly free to regulate their domestic affairs in their own way." The Administration, however, as well as the framers of the Bill, were in favor of slavery. The terms of the Bill were popular, their real intent and meaning despotic. South and North entered the field after the enactment of this law, and made a trial of their strength. The Federal Government and the Federal troops were on the side of slavery; but the FREE LABORERS of the North were too powerful for their opponents. For the first time in the history of the country, Slavery was beaten, overpowered, driven from the field.

The terrible fight between slaveocrats on the one side, and honest freemen on the other, we cannot rehearse here; we can only say that the same thing occurred in Kansas which will always happen hereafter. The North whipped the South; "greasy mechanics" and "mud sills" out-emigrated the chivalrous and high-born aristocrats of the South. Against power, against money, against every social advantage, the "poor whites" fought their way through and triumphed.

Since that victory was obtained, Kansas has gained more rapidly in population than any other State in the Union. The free States contain more than two-thirds of the people of the whole Union; their political principles are based upon the eternal, democratic principle that "all men are created equal;" and when the slave States beat the free States, the Devil will beat God. Unless infidels are right, unless injustice is the rule, unless hell is heaven, then Freedom is the ultimate destiny of the whole human race. Yes, of the whole human race. We speak the words of inspired truth, as well as the hopes of finite creatures. As sure as we live under a Divine government, all men will yet be free.

Long and impatiently have we waited for admission into the Union. We first asked for a State Government under the Topeka Constitution--which the House of Representatives adopted in 1856. Next under the Leavenworth Constitution. More than a year ago, the Wyandott Constitution was presented to Congress--it did not become a law until Monday.

An instrument purporting to represent the people of Kansas--though everybody knew that it was a miserable lie, and represented nobody but South Carolina--known in history as the "Lecompton Consitution"--was forced through Congress in 1858. It didn't come to anything. You can't buy up the people of Kansas. It was killed, killed, killed.

But amid the enthusiasm of to-day, we have no time to review our past political history; it is known to all mankind.

It is sufficient to announce to our people that we are at last a State. They will rejoice everywhere; on all our prairies, on every hill side, in every valley, when the glad news reaches them. One universal shout will go up from every heart for the Constitution and the Union.

Whatever other States, urged on by prejudice and fanatic zeal, may say or do against our country and its glorious flag, the people of Kansas with one heart and one voice, will fight forever for that Union, under which our liberty was first secured, and through which it has ever been maintained.

If the dread necessity shall come, if an appeal shall be made to the arbitrament of the sword, we will fight for the stars and stripes till the last enemy is vanquished, till the last drop of blood oozes from our veins.



The preceding was reprinted from The Daily Conservative, January 30, 1861. Published in Leavenworth, The Conservative was the first newspaper to announce that Congress had approved Kansas to be a state. 

Sunday, January 28, 2018

Kid Eternity #2



The entire gym class stood in two lines underneath the ropes. “I can’t believe the state requires students to know how to climb a rope,” Izzy said. She was in one line while Cory and Chase were in the other.

“I suspect it’s for some kind of Hunger Games scenario,” Chase said.

“Ha! Sucks to be the next generation,” Cory laughed. Cory stuck his hand in the pocket of his gym shorts and found a note. “What the…?” he pulled it out and read it.

2907 waits.
Hope you like politics.
-Yoshi C

“Well, at least he didn’t use ‘afoot’ this time,” Chase said.

“How did he get this in my pocket?” Cory asked.

“How did who get what in your pocket?” Issy asked.

“Nothing,” Cory said. “How am I supposed to get out of class? Coach Rockne will never excuse me.”

“I have a plan. Follow my lead,” Chase whispered. “Damn, Cory. What did you eat this morning? Did you shart yourself? How long ago did you die?”

“Really?”

“I said follow my lead.”

Cory rolled his eyes. “Oh, my stomach. Coach, I can’t hold it. I gotta go,” Cory didn’t wait for an answer and ran to the locker room doors.

Everyone stared at Cory, some chuckled. Coach Rockne shouted. “Next semester we’ll get into nutrition which might help you not embarrass yourself like that,” he pointed to the locker room with his pencil.

“Looks like we’re going to face off against each other,” Izzy said.

“It’s not a competition, Izzy,” Chase said. “But I’m going to kick your butt.”

“Oh, but it’s not a competition?” Izzy scoffed.

“It’s not. No offense but you’re a girl.”

“You have two seconds to recalibrate.”

“Girls have no upper body strength and are notoriously bad climbers. It’s why they climbed out of the trees first those thousands of years ago,” Chase explained.

“So women are more evolved which is why we’re so weak and puny? This is insulting and makes no sense.”

“Fine. If you think you’re so great at shimmying up a rope let’s make a bet. If I reach the top first, you buy me dinner at the Taco Hole.”

“Okay. If I win then you have to buy me a giant stuffed animal--something rainbow or pastel-colored.”

“That’s what I want to hear,” Coach Rockne exclaimed. “That’s what gym class should be. Two gladiators competing for dominance. Two students enter, one student leaves. Let’s do this.”

“I always thought I would die in gym class,” Chase said.




Cory arrived in 2907 in some sort of stadium or arena with thousands of people in seats, standing, and just milling about. He found Yoshi and went up to him. “Where are we?”

“The People’s Republic National Convention in Portland, Oregon. It’s like the Democratic or Republican conventions of your time,” Yoshi said.

“900 years in the future and we still do this?”

“It’s like a reality show now. The four candidates with the highest ratings are chosen. They are then put in a thirteen-episode series where an audience votes for their favorite two. Those two then get placed on the ballot and voted on.”

“Holy crap that sounds awful. When did all that start?”

“2024.”

“Makes sense,” Cory sighed. “So what are we doing here?”

“There’s an issue with our candidate over there,” Yoshi pointed at an older lady talking to the crowd. “She is by far the best candidate for the job but as it turns out she gets America closer to an autocracy than anyone else and just a few years after she is term-limited, America goes back to being ruled by a king.”

“Well, we can’t let that happen,” Cory said. “I’m sure we could just talk to her. She’s probably very reasonable and would understand completely. What’s her name?”

“Barbara Ann Blocher.”

“This will be easy.”

After Blocher’s speech, she left the stage and went down a hallway. Cory and Yoshi were waiting. “Make sure to get the new poll numbers as soon as they are out,” she said. “Also, ask the governor of Colorado why their delegates didn’t seem thrilled to be here. It looked back on the television.”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied an assistant.

“Excuse me, Ms. Blocher,” Cory went up to her.

Blocher sneered. “What?”

“Can I talk to you in private? Or just, step over here for a second?”

Blocher looked over at her bodyguard. He stepped forward but she waved her hand. They took a couple steps from the small crowd. “What do you want?”

“I would like to ask you to drop out of the race. It’s hard to explain but your election has serious negative repercussions for the country,” Cory explained quickly.

“So I win?”

“Yeah, but serious negative repercussions for the country and all that.”

“I’m not dropping out,” Blocher said.

“I can’t allow you to stay in the race,” Cory responded.

“You can’t stop me. No one can stop me,” Blocher yelled and hit Cory with a full-force punch sending him down the hallway and through the concrete wall and into the building next door.




Chase and Izzy stood at their ropes and looked up as Coach Rockne and the class looked at them. “All right. First one to the top get the taco dinner.”

“Or the giant stuffed animal,” Izzy said.

“Yeah, whatever,” Coach Rockne rolled his eyes and sighed. “On your marks, get set, go.”

Izzy and Chase jumped up and began climbing the rope. They started out climbing at the same speed but as they reached the middle, Chase began slowing down. “This was a stupid idea,” Chase said, sliding down the rope a bit and burning one of his hands.

“I agree. Why’d we do this?”

“I just wanted tacos. I could’ve just went and ate some after school today.”

Izzy stopped climbing and looked at Chase who also stopped. “Do you want to stop this stupid contest?”

“If you want to,” Chase panted.

“Nope,” Izzy said and continued climbing, harder and faster.

“What? You tricked me,” Chase continued climbing but was now a few paces behind Izzy.

“There are no rules,” Izzy said. “You just climb until you reach the top. Climb until you’re free.”

“What?” Chase stopped climbing again and looked at Izzy.

She reached the top and screamed, raising her fist in the air. “Suck it, Chase. Suck. It.”

“Good job, Miss Azuz. The whole class expects pictures of James giving you your gigantic stuffed animal. I’m sure it will be pathetic and humiliating. Everyone down in the locker room,” Coach Rockne said and the kids ran off to the locker room.

Izzy slid down the rope a bit before jumping off and landing on the floor. “Are you still trying to reach the top? Just come down,” she said.

“I can’t. I looked down by accident and have now apparently forgotten how to use my arms.”




“Why didn’t you tell me she had superpowers?” Cory asked as he flew back into the stadium and landed next to Yoshi.

“I figured you would figure it out when she didn’t seem threatened by you,” Yoshi said.

“Thanks,” Cory turned to Blocher. “Wait. That’s it. That’s how I’ll get her to drop out. It’s going to hurt but I think it’s the only way.” Cory went up to her and lightly slapper her.

“You insolent slug,” she bellowed and began pummelling Cory. He fell to the ground tried to block her punches. “I will teach you a lesson. Nobody gets in the way of Barbara Ann Blocher and lives.”

She continued hitting Cory. A crowd was gathering including media outlets with cameras and microphones. Blocher soon realized what was going on and stopped hitting Cory, who quickly got up and scrambled away with Yoshi.

“I know what this looks like,” she said and tried to laugh. “I was just…”

“Hitting a fourteen-year-old,” Cory yelled at her. “I just wanted an autograph.”

“No, no. That’s not what happened. I have witnesses,” she pointed at the two guys with her.

They shook their heads. “You were still hitting a teenager, ma’am,” one said.

Blocher continued to try to talk her way out of this. Cory looked at Yoshi. “I think we can go,” he said. They walked off behind a corner and entered a portal that took them back home.

Cory walked through the halls at school after return, heading to his next class after gym, which was already ten minutes in. When he walked in, everyone looked at him. “Mr. Buchanan, where have you been?”

“I was...personal issues,” Cory answered and quickly sat down.

“Where’d you get that black eye?” Izzy asked quietly.

“What?” he touched his eye softly. “Ow,” he gasped.

“What were doing in the bathroom that gave you a black eye?” she asked.

“You don’t want to know,” Chase interjected. “The mere fact you have to ask should tell you it’s a sordid and sad story.”

“Mm,” Izzy wrinkled her nose and went back to paying attention to the teacher.

From Living to Dead


As many of you have probably found out, Mort Walker, creator of the hit comic strips Beetle Bailey and Hi and Lois passed away yesterday at the age of 94. Walker was one of the last great cartoonists still living and his contributions to the comics page will last forever.

Beetle Bailey

Hi and Lois

Boner's Ark

Sam & Silo


"Do you think I've changed much since our wedding day?"

"Is that what we're going to do today? Fight?"

Saturday, January 27, 2018

Very Purple and Yellow Today


"You're ugly is what I'm getting out. Boom!" Brutus runs out the room, giggling wildly, arms flailing in the air.

Can Wilberforce not make a sandwich himself? What pressing engagement does Gladys have all of a sudden? How much money do we have to give Chip so he'll never draw that face in the last panel again?

Thursday, January 25, 2018

It's 65 Degrees Where I Am


Because then you wouldn't know it was broken...?

There's an episode of The Twilight Zone called "The Midnight Sun" where the Earth has changed trajectory and is now heading into the sun. It's revealed that SPOILER!! the Earth going into the sun is just a fever dream of one of the characters but the Earth is actually moving further away from the sun so we're all freezing to death instead of roasting. It's always made me wonder which people would rather have. Would you rather have the Earth getting constantly hotter or constantly colder?

Personally, I always colder because I can layer my clothes, I can put on a coat or a blanket and the natural body heat will keep things a warm as possible until the sun is just a star in the sky like every other star. Getting hotter, you can only remove so much clothing and the air conditioner will only work so much before you're being driven insane from the heat.

In related selfish promotion, read my story "The Final Day" which is a story of two people at their place of business waiting for the end of the world after the sun goes out.

Wednesday, January 24, 2018

I Would Say Brutus Is More of a Clever Boy*


Brutus is one of Veeblefester's most loyal and, despite his many flaws, is actually decent at his job. But, no, go ahead and call one of your best employees "dopey". That's why people don't like you.









*The title is a reference to the PlayStation 2 game, Snow White and the 7 Clever Boys which had this horrifying box cover art.

Tauy Creek Digest #42: We


Let's imagine that everything that objectors and detractors said about President Barack Obama were true. Let's imagine that Barack Obama was born in Kenya. Let's imagine that Obama did make our country less safe. Let's imagine he undermined every value that we, as Americans, held closely, that he wanted to remake the United States into a country that is one step removed from Marxist Socialism where being patriotic and religious were egregious offenses that could get you ostracized from society, at best. If you can actually imagine this then you would probably understand why there are people who spent eight years wishing that Obama would resign, be impeached, arrested, something because he is clearly a criminal who doesn't deserve to hold the title of President of the United States of America let alone be duly elected to the office.

The ones who truly believed even just one of the above scenarios are now the ones telling the other side that they are just being crazy. That their fears are unfounded and that President Donald Trump isn't so bad. We are now the ones imagining these things. The difference is that we aren't imagining it. If even one of the above scenarios were even near the truth, Congress would've done something. The FBI would've done something. Something would've been done. Since nothing happened, at any time during those eight years, then one can assume there was no reason or precedent to even attempt to censure or remove President Obama from office. I now understand how frustrating that is. I now understand the frustration in waiting for the other shoe to drop and that Trump is forced to resign or be removed from office. I understand the anger these people felt seeing a man they don't like seemingly damage the country they love. The difference is that we aren't imagining it.

We have over 40 years of history on how Trump acts, how he runs his business, and how he treats people. We have over 240 years of how we believe politicians--good and bad--should act. We have 13 years of Trump falling prey to the fakeness of TV, conspiracy theories, and willing ignorance. It's baffling that we have people who believe Trump isn't all he says is and even more baffling that they believe that they can fool the rest of us.

When Trump was elected and then inaugurated, I had a hard time convincing myself to write. I went months at a time without writing anything but I came up with plenty of ideas. Finally, over the summer I began writing and I've been trying to make up for lost time. I'm trying to get caught up with the Story Series, Digest issues, and The Point of Beginning along with the couple of novels and collections I am currently working on. While I understand that most of my writing, and others', doesn't jab at the politics controlling our country right now, it doesn't have to.

The mere fact that people are out there, producing works of art, is enough. Whether it's acting, painting, writing, whatever, it speaks volumes. Even if you support the current climate and produce art, you are still contributing to the culture of this country--a culture that is wildly varied and more than just the sum of our parts. The culture of this country dates back thousands of years, it incorporates hundreds, maybe thousands, of different cultures. We are not just a country of one type of people, one type of art, one type of culture. We are many. We are one.

Tuesday, January 23, 2018

Uncle Ted Is So Lonely


Seems like we're going to spend a few days with Uncle Ted. Sadly, Brutus still has five to ten years until his retirement and let's be honest, Veeblefester is going to kill Brutus before he's allowed to retire.

Monday, January 22, 2018

Shouldn't He Be Getting a Pension or Social Security?


I miss working with the people.
I miss being around people who have the same goals as me.
I miss being a part of a company who strives to make the world a better place.
I miss Phyllis' homemade brownies.
I miss using my brain to develop solutions to various problems.
I miss getting paid for doing a good and honest day's work.
I miss being a productive member of society.
But no, I do not miss work.

Sunday, January 21, 2018

Supercomics #9


Supercat ripped open the bay doors to Kon’s ship. He walked in, preparing for anything. He figured that Kon was hiding or planning something big. From the shadows, a swarm of pink gremlins came out. The riot monsters, Supercat thought. He’s trying to distract me. These things are just putty come to life. Supercat shot and melted the monsters with his heat vision and continued into the ship. I don’t have time for this. He used his super hearing and x-ray vision to find Kon. There. In his mindscape.

The mindscape was a place Kon went to relax and think. It was more dangerous for him to be in there because what he thought could manifest itself into reality. He can be able to see the outcome of a plan before he implements it and adjust accordingly, he can distract you with random people or things, he can distort and reshape reality to fit what he or you want. He spent an entire week in the mindscape before they attacked the last planet. He underestimated Earth. He didn’t plan like he normally did. He definitely didn’t take into account losing Rodham, Grunge, and Supercat.

More riot monsters appeared which Supercat easily took care of but then from the shadows, a larger riot monster, almost as tall as him. The riot monster was able to get a couple punches in but no more. It was like hitting a giant pencil eraser. A large blast of heat vision took care of this riot monster just as easily as the smaller ones.

“Enough of this, Kon,” Supercat said. “How about I just start tearing the ship apart piece by piece?” Supercat smashed his fist into a wall and began pulling out wires and other things from the hole.

“Stop,” Kon said but he wasn’t there. “I am one of the smartest entities in the known universe. I can bend and shape reality while I’m in here. I can bring everyone back for you. Lois, your parents, whoever you desire.”

“It wouldn’t be the same and you can’t buy me off, Kon. I’m not going to let you continue doing what you do,” Supercat continued, walking slowly to the mindscape.

“Are you sure?” from around the corner of the mindscape, Lois Purry appeared.

“Lois…” he stopped suddenly. She looked exactly as he remembered from twenty years ago. She was a reporter for the Daily Cat which is how they met. She was the only one, besides his parents, who knew both his identities. They were engaged to be married before the crystal.

“It’s been a long time,” Lois said.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Supercat began. “I tried to stop the crystal. I tried so hard.”

“It’s okay,” she touched his cheek. “The crystal beat everyone. But you’re here now. We’re here now.” Lois leaned up to kiss Supercat.

Their lips were about to touch when Supercat pulled away. “None of this is real. You’re made up. By Kon,” he said.

“Just forget about that right now. This is as real as you want to make it. Clark…” she whispered his name. His real name.

He shook his head. “No, Lois. No. I wish it were real but it isn’t. It can’t be. Sorry, Lois. I love you,” Supercat pushed his fist through her chest and out her back. As she died, she disappeared. Supercat turned and faced Kon in the mindscape.

“No…” Kon panicked. “Wait.”

Supercat used his heat vision to sever the cords connected to Kon’s head. Kon’s eyes went wide and then he slumped in the chair.

“What happened?” Agent Spider asked as he and America finally arrived and saw Kon defeated.

“Being suddenly removed from the mindscape short-circuited his brain. He’s essentially in a coma.”

“So he’s stopped?” Spider confirmed.

“Yep. What about Grunge and Rodham?”

“Stopped and neutralized,” America then handed Supercat the circular head belt. “Here, this is what we used on Grunge and Rodham to shut down brain activity.”

Supercat slipped the belt on Kon’s head. “Will you guys take care of them?”

“I don’t know about ‘care’ but we’ll make sure they don’t hurt anyone else,” America said.

“What about the other two from your team? The other guy and the girl?”

“They’re fine. They’re on the ground. She really took a beating but she’ll be fine,” Agent Spider said.




Superkitten opened her eyes and her vision slowly regained focus. She saw three people hovering over her, staring at her. “She’s awake,” one of the females said.

“Mom?” Superkitten groaned. “Traci? What are you doing here?” Then she remembered. She sat up. “I’m glad to see you.”

“So this is what you are doing? A super soldier for the government?”

“I had to do something. I nearly killed somebody. I would’ve been in trouble, maybe even taken away. And now I get to train and control my powers and help people. Like Dad used to.”

“You shouldn’t have just left--disappeared like you did. But I am so glad that you are safe,” she hugged Superkitten tightly.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Traci said. “Do they not let you out of your cell to visit your best friend?”

“It’s only been a few months. I was going to visit sooner or later,” Superkitten said. “We’ve been busy.”

Superkitten stood up, she was still a little dizzy and her back was radiating with pain. “You be careful out there,” Ms. Kincaid hugged Superkitten again, tighter and longer this time.

“My birthday is coming up. I expect to see you,” Traci said.

Superkitten and Geo-Whiz stepped out into the remains of the neighborhood. They saw Supercat, Agent Spider, and America floating back down to earth with Kon in Supercat’s arms. “We stopped them?” Superkitten sounded skeptical. “I mean, of course we stopped them.”

“Thankfully you were able to knock some sense into Supercat,” America said.

“That reminds me, I need to talk to you about that,” Supercat told Superkitten. “Please, come with me.”

Superkitten felt like a little girl again. She could’ve sworn she heard a classroom say ‘ooh’ as she and Supercat stepped away from the group. “I’m sorry I hit you, I…”

“Don’t apologize,” Supercat interrupted. “You did what you had to do. You didn’t even know if that would work. I’m glad this Earth is as protected as my Earth was. I know it’s all just coincidence but I am so proud my name is continuing. Did you come up with it?”

“Yeah. Super for obvious reasons and kitten because it was a nickname my Dad gave me.”

“Your Dad must be very proud of you.”

“He was shot and killed a few years ago. He was a police officer.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not proud,” Supercat smiled at her, placing his hand on her shoulder.

“What are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know. I’m a stranger in a strange land. I think I’ll just lay low for a bit. Help protect people secretly. You may see me around.”

“Well, if you ever need help, you know who to come to,” Superkitten waved as Supercat lifted off into the air.

“I’ll see you around, Superkitten.”

“Alix.”

Supercat paused. “Clark.”

Superkitten joined Geo-Whiz, Agent Spider, and America again. “He’s not staying with us?” Spider asked.

“No. We’ll probably see him again though. I’m hungry. Can we stop and get something to eat?” Superkitten asked.

“You need to get checked out,” Dmitri said, walking toward the group. “We need to make sure those burns will heal and that your back is okay.”

“I think we can run through a drive-thru somewhere,” Superkitten said. “We did just save the world.”

“I guess we can make a quick stop,” Dmitri said.

“Great. Also, when can I learn to fly the plane? If I were a real teenager I’d know how to drive by now,” Superkitten asked as the team headed back to the plane.




Supercat inspired by characters created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster

Quigley Account Revisited


We're going to try something new this week. Every Sunday I'm going to post about my favorite thing that I've seen over the last week. This week we got the news that Superman's red trunks that have been missing in action since 2011 are making their triumphant return in Action Comics #1000 which comes out in April. Here's a first look at the return.
Art by Jim Lee and Scott Williams. Copyright DC Comics.
A late entry is this picture of President Donald Trump supposedly on the phone trying to end the government shutdown and not posing for stock photo #12576 "angry man in hat on phone at desk".
"Yes? This is President."

Photo by Dan Scavino, Jr.
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Brutus has worried about the Quigley account before. March 6 and 7 of 2012 to be specific. Brutus must not botch the account much because they still have an account with Veeblefester. An account for tea cozies. What?

I'm just going to imagine that their blankets are really some sort of incubation tube, keeping them in constant state of docility and misery--Quigley account or not.

Saturday, January 20, 2018

Quit Rooting for Teams


I am always a "root for the home team" because having pride in your local sports team boosts morale of the city, the residents, helps the economy, and garners respect. But I don't ever begrudge someone who wants to rally behind another team. I get it. I bet it is very hard to rally behind and stay rallied behind teams like the Cleveland Brown who have won a collective four games in the last three years.

I don't know who Brutus is rooting for here but let's be honest, it's clearly not the Patriots.

Friday, January 19, 2018

Brutus Doesn't Strike Me As a Shiny Top


One thing I've learned with dealing with kids is that you can't really take yourself to seriously. If I took everything that kids have said to me at face value or personally I wouldn't have lasted a month at my job.

I understand that Hattie is probably more of a pain in the ass than just doing bald jokes but Brutus should take this opportunity to be more of a parent to her because it's clear that she doesn't really have anyone. At least in the backstory that I have made up for this comic.

Just roll with it Brutus. You're bald. We all know you're bald. You can't get upset every time someone mentions it. Stop taking life so seriously.

Thursday, January 18, 2018

Since 2008


Who are the real losers? I've been asking that for ten years now. Seems like we finally know the answer. I started this after seeing comic strip snarking websites everywhere and thinking "Hey, I can do that." So I did. I'm not as good at it but I did it. I also expanded what I did into stories, ongoing series, research, history, and other things. Who would've thought that we'd see newspaper comics go from black and white to color, the art get simpler, and Uncle Ted going from basically a one-off character to a recurring character. It's been a hell of a drug ride.
"Well, Brutus, a little from Column A and a little from Column B."

If I were Brutus, I would take Veeblefester's constant put-downs and mentions about how terrible he is at his job as an excuse to just stop working. If I do a crappy job every day just by trying, then imagine what I can't accomplish if I just sit on my butt all day. I'll be employee of the month every single month.

POB #6: Tank N Tummy


Harry was sound asleep with a smile on his face when a long, slender tongue began coming down on his ear. The tongue began licking in and around the ear. The smile on Harry’s face disappeared and a look of disgust washed over it. His eyes shot open and Harry pushed himself out of bed and onto the floor.

“What are you doing?” Harry shouted at the woman who had penetrated his ear with her tongue.

“Using a unique way to wake you up,” the woman smiled. “Do you want to go again?” she grinned.

Harry stared at the woman in the bed, trying to remember her name. He then looked over at the clock. “Emily! Yes, that’s it. That’s your name. I would love to…do all that but I’m late for work,” Harry said, telling the truth but it obviously sounded like a lie. Harry stood up and began searching through the mess that was Emily’s floor. She eyed his genitals seductively and licked her lips. Harry noticed and covered himself. “Stop looking at it!”

“You didn’t seem to mind last night when my whole head was in that vicinity,” Emily smiled.

Harry found his clothes and began putting them on. “I had a nice time. I’ll see you around, Emily.”

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” Emily pleaded. “You’re already late for work. What’s another thirty minutes.”

“No, I have to go. See you,” and Harry left Emily’s bedroom.

Emily rolled over on her back and moved her fingers to her crotch. “What if I lick your asshole?” she shouted after him.




It took Harry about ten minutes to get from the dorms where Emily lived at Engel and Irving Hill Road to the Tank N Tummy convenience store at Sixth and Kasold. The Tank N Tummy was your average convenience store selling your common overpriced wares all because the gasoline doesn’t make a profit. Harry parked his Ford Explorer on the west side of the building next to a beat up Toyota Tercel hatchback. The Toyota belonged to Harry’s best friend, Zeke.

Zachary Hollister, or Zeke, which is what he wanted to be called, had been friends with Harry since Kindergarten. Zeke began elementary school as a shy, slightly overweight, red-haired wimp and after high school was an outgoing, slightly overweight, balding wimp. Harry took care of the shy part.

Harry walked into the Tank N Tummy. Zeke was behind the counter restocking the cigarettes. “Zeke, I’m sorry I’m late. I wasn’t sleeping in my own bed, her actually wanting anal sex threw me off and this morning, there was a tongue in my ear,” Harry attempted to explain.

“It’s okay, Harry. You know people just come in to buy coffee, newspapers and cigarettes in the morning. Why are you late?” Zeke asked.

“I met a girl. Her name is Emily. She let me do awful things to her,” Harry said and smiled.

“Oh, you thinking about seeing her again?” Zeke asked.

“Of course not.”

“Why did I think otherwise?”

“Are we still on for tonight?” Harry asked as he grabbed an issue of U.S. News & World Report off the shelf and went behind the counter with Zeke.

“I don’t know about Jason or Dustin but I’m ready,” Zeke said. “I printed off a bunch of stuff about the house and cemetery last night and spent most of last night reading about it. The stories people tell about them are amazing and it would be great if the stories were true.”

Harry began reading his magazine. “Why are we doing this again?”

“Why do we need a reason? We’re doing it to find out if the legends are true. Common sense says they are not but there are some strange things in this world. Plus, it’s a part of our history being in this county,” Zeke exclaimed.

“Eloquently said, Zeke. I’m gonna go get me some Cheez-Its,” Harry left the counter and walked over to the aisle with chips and crackers. Cheez-It was Harry’s only vice and he would go long way for the name brand baked cheese goodness.

“We don’t have any,” Zeke said as they reached the shelves the Cheez-It’s used to be.

“Why not?” Harry asked with anger rising in his voice.

“They weren’t selling so the boss had me not order any this time around. We’ll get more next week.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” Harry complained.

“Oh, calm down. There’s still a box of Cheesie Bits down there,” Zeke pointed.

“You know damn well they are not the same thing!”

“Oh, here we go,” Zeke rolled his eyes.

“Cheez-It, produced by the Sunshine Biscuit Company—now a property of the Kellogg Company—have been the premier baked cheese snack cracker since 1921 and while Nabisco’s Kraft Cheese Nips come close and have, admittedly, more cheese flavor, Cheez-It are the go-to cracker for both cheese and salt,” Harry illuminated.

“I know. You’ve told me,” Zeke complained.

“Remember when we ran out of gummi worms and I told you to just eat gummi bears?”

“Well, gummi bears are just plain disgusting,” Zeke made a face.

“Well, so are generic baked cheese crackers,” Harry sighed and went back to his magazine behind the counter.

Someone came into the store and headed over to the coffee station. Zeke sat down on a stool with the local paper and began reading. “Oh my God.”

“What?” Harry asked.

“Miyoki died,” Zeke said and showed Harry the obituary in the paper. The picture accompanying the obit was Miyoki’s senior high school picture, Zeke recognized.

Harry read the obit. “Wow…” he said. “I wonder what she died from.”

“It doesn’t say but she was in San Francisco. I should call her parents,” Zeke said.

“Are they parents that still like you?”

“All my former girlfriend’s parents still like me,” Zeke said.

“You just keep telling yourself that,” Harry shook his head.

“Miyoki was my first,” Zeke said solemnly. “I can still remember how it felt.”

“I don’t need any details.”

“Who was your first time?” Zeke asked Harry.

“Your mom. Why don’t you call Miyoki’s parents now?” Harry said and scooted the magazine over when the customer finished at the coffee station and came up to the counter.

“How come you don’t have any of that flavored coffee that those big chain store have?” the customer said.

“What? You mean like Starbucks?” Harry asked.

“Yeah. I love their coffee,” the customer said.

“I do too. $2.35,” Harry said.

“I drink your coffee because it’s cheap,” the customer chuckled.

“Yeah…” Harry hated talking to the customers.

“You should put out some chocolate syrup and whipped cream for people to put in with their coffee,” the customer suggested.

“Then we’d have to charge a lot more than $2.35 for it,” Harry faked a laugh and smiled big.

The customer laughed too. “Yeah, I guess so.” The customer headed out the door. “Have a good day!” he shouted.

“You, too!” Harry shouted back then angrily went back to his magazine. Zeke returned and sat back down on his stool. “You get a hold of Miyoki’s parents?”

“Yeah,” Zeke answered.

“How’d she die?”

“She was in San Francisco—she moved there for school—and she was riding the Golden Gate Transit, a public transportation bus, and she saw someone she knew and wanted to get their attention so she opened the window and stuck her body halfway out. The bus makes a sharp turn and she hits a light post, cracking her skull and snapping her back,” Zeke said.

“Ew. That’s graphic,” Harry said. Harry thought for a second and began chuckling. “’Stuck her body halfway out’? I can actually see her hanging out of the bus window, flailing her arms and screaming. It’s kind of funny.”

“A girl died Harry. A girl we both knew and went to school with,” Zeke said. “It’s not funny, it’s tragic.”

“Oh, quit being overly sensitive. You acted the same way when that football player died in our senior year.”

“It’s sad when people that young die!” Zeke exclaimed.

“It’s sad when they have a disease. It’s sad when they are in a car accident. The football guy was drunk. His blood alcohol level was 0.22 which is almost three times over the legal limit. He’s lucky he didn’t hurt or kill another person,” Harry pointed out. “I’m sick of him being made out to be a martyr.”

“Jeez, calm down. You’d feel differently if it were you.”

“I already told my mom not to make me out to be a hero if my death is my fault,” Harry went back to his magazine.

“That’s a nice mother-son conversation,” Zeke said.


Wednesday, January 17, 2018

-25 In February 1899


The coldest winter day that I remember was back in 19Dickety6. We had to say "Dickety" because President Clinton had lost our word "ninety" to Saddam Hussein. We'd get it back in 19Dickety8. Anyway, the day started out normal, it was just a little cloudy and I was walking uphill to school with my beet necklace--we all had beet necklaces, that being the style at the time. By the time I got to school, it had started raining and the temperature really dropped. Suddenly, the rain started turning to ice. I noticed this when my friend, Grover, asked me for a couple of bees. That's what we called quarters back then because they had pictures of bees on them. "Give me four bees for a dollar" you'd say.

Where was I? Oh, yeah. Soon everything was covered in ice and it had started snowing. At about 40 to the owl's head--which was what we called 12 o'clock on account of the owl's head in that location, back then, clocks had pictures of birds on them. "I'll meet you at the bowling alley at a quarter past a cardinal" you'd say.--the principal came over the intercom and said we could go home because there was two inches of ice underneath three inches of snow. I bundled up, making sure my beet necklace was over my coat because you didn't want to be caught without it, and began the treacherous uphill climb back home.

Monday, January 15, 2018

Leave 'Em


I'm always very disappointed when places serve peas as a vegetable. I went to a restaurant where their choice of veggie was carrots or peas and I was, like "Why don't you just spit in my mouth?" I got carrots.

Sunday, January 14, 2018

Time Man #1



“Take him dead or alive men!” the lieutenant shouted and the other officers began charging into the apartment building.

On the sixth floor, Butch Matson was cowering in a corner with a gun watching the door to the apartment he was in. “I didn’t do it!” he shouted. “I didn’t do it,” he said softly and put the muzzle of the gun underneath his jaw. He closed his eyes and waited for the police to burst in. He heard the feet on the stairs , quick movements outside the door and the splintering of wood and the door swinging open against the wall then he heard silence. He slowly opened his eyes and saw the police standing still--frozen.

Time Man stood just off to the side in his blue and yellow uniform. “Come on. Get up. I’ll get you out of here.”

Butch got up and Time Man grabbed him and they went out the window. As soon as they were away from the building, Time Man restored time. “You saved my life.”

“Police shouldn’t be acting like that.” Time Man said.

“Especially toward an innocent person,” Butch said. “They think that I killed that old landlord and his family but I didn’t. Neither did Melissa Stasi, the woman in jail for the murder.”

“Who is the murderer?”

“Julia Stack, she’s a singer at the club that’s in the building the landlord owned. He was going to raise the rent so the club was going to close. She was just made headliner--the club closing would mean her having to start all over. She killed the landlord and framed Melissa and me.”

“I’m going to drop you off at the Golden City Herald,” Time Man said. “Gail Porter is a reporter there. Tell her everything. I’m going to find Ms. Stack.”

“She is probably at the HiLow Club rehearsing,” Butch said as Time Man landed on a narrow balcony at the Golden City Herald building.

He softly tapped on the window and Gail Porter opened the blinds. “Time Man, what are you doing?” she asked as she opened the window to let them in.

“This is Butch Matson. He has some information on the Melissa Stasi murder. I’m gonna go check it out but I thought you’d be good at writing the story,” Time Man said.

“What? Sure. Well, Mr. Matson, let me grab my notebook,” Gail ran to her desk.

Time Man flew back out to the HiLow Club. When he went in, it was nearly empty. There was a drunk at the bar and the bartender and a couple wait staff milling about. “Time Man?” the bartender asked, seeing the brightly dressed, caped man in the club.

“Julia Stack? Is she here?”

“In the back, probably her dressing room. Through the stage back there,” the bartender pointed.

Time Man went behind the stage and found a dressing room with Julia Stack’s on the door. He tried the door but it was locked. He knocked lightly and heard a shuffling behind the door. The door unlocked and a woman opened the door. “Julia Stack?”

“Yes. What’s the meaning of this?”

“You’re the one that killed that landlord and you framed two innocent people.”

“Mm. I don’t know how you found out but let’s talk about this,” Julia said.

“I spoke with Butch Matson,” Time Man said. “He told me everything and he’s telling a reporter and the police now.”

“And you just believed him?” Julia laughed.

“Why would he lie? He has nothing to lose and nothing to gain. But you…” Time Man lightly shrugged and pointed. “You have everything to lose.”

“I should’ve known I couldn’t get away with this,” Julia said. She suddenly pulled a gun out from behind her and pointed it at Time Man. “I know I can’t kill you but I make sure I go out on my terms.”

Julia pointed the gun at her temple. Time Man quickly went for his wrist sundial. Time slowed and stopped making it possible for Time Man to walk over and take the gun from her hand. He restored time and she realized that she no longer had the gun.

“Come on, the police are here,” Time Man said, hearing the faint sounds of police sirens. The two of them left the club. Police were waiting along with Gail and Butch. “Here’s Julia Stack. She’ll confess, Officer,” Time Man said.

“Thanks, Time Man,” the officer said and cuffed Julia.

“Thanks, Time Man,” Butch said again.

“No problem, Butch,” Time Man smiled.

“Time Man,” another officer ran up to the three of them. “We have a report of a robot robbed a bank a few blocks from here.”

Time Man and Gail looked at each other. “You want to come with?”

“A robot robbing a bank? Of course I want to see this,” Gail said.

Time Man picked up Gail and they flew the few blocks to the bank reported to be robbed. Time Man landed and he and Gail carefully went into the bank. A robot was robbing the bank. It had smashed through a wall and ripped the vault open and was currently tearing through the money although it looked like it was just doing mindless destruction. Time Man walked over and threw a punch at the robot. The robot easily took the punch and backhanded Time Man as hard as it could causing Time Man to fly across the bank and through a wall. Time Man came back in and barreled his way back to the robot.

“Gonna have to use a bit more strength to stop this thing,” he said before slamming into the robot sending both of them through a counter and into an office. The robot grabbed Time Man by the throat and threw him back across the bank, through a couple of pillars and into a wall. “Everyone needs to get out. This building isn’t going to last much longer,” Time Man snarled as he stood back up.

The few people in the bank and Gail left the bank. Police had arrived and were keeping a perimeter around the bank. The robot easily took the next several punches that Time Man threw at it. “You can’t stop me, Time Man,” the robot suddenly spoke. “I may be in jail now but my presence in this city and your life will always be there.”

“Lucius,” Time Man whispered, recognizing the voice.

The floor above them collapsed and within seconds, the rest of the bank building fell to the ground. The rubble was silent and unmoving for several minutes. As time went on, people carefully got closer, worried about Time Man and if the robot was stopped. The robot came shooting through the bricks and metal and wood holding Time Man’s tattered cape, cackling. He took off into the sky and disappeared.

A few seconds later, Time Man clawed his way out of the destruction. “Time Man,” Gail exclaimed and ran to him. “Are you okay?”

He coughed. “Yeah, I think I’ll be fine. That robot was a threat from Lucius Goebel,” Time Man said.

“But he’s in jail,” Gail said.

“I know but it was his voice coming from that robot. He may be in jail but he’s still going to find a way to control this city,” Time Man said.




The robot landed on a rooftop docking bay at Genesee Labs. The robot walked down to one of the labs and handed the tattered cape to Conrad. “So Time Man isn’t as strong as we all thought he was,” he said quizzically. “Now, all we need is to know who he is and he should be easily defeated.” Conrad shook out the cape and brought it with him into another room.