The Body is a Marvelous Plastic Machine: Part Trois

Alas, time has wasted away since we last visited the wonders of the plastic body. And so, dear readers we might as well visit the realm of the Marvelous Plastic Machine with probably the most magical and miraculous element that makes being a manufactured object wonderful...the manufacturing process.


Okay, so I am being a little coy. But the plastic machine must be created at some point in time. So without much further fanfare:

sex

In order for the plastics to be molded into new models, the proper tools need to be used. Some components as the parts below are much more complex and a lot less glamorous when thought about in this aspect.

The male portion has the tendency to flap in the wind, get caught in the wrong parts, and can malfunction causing to hydraulic failure, and any number of misfires and other awkward non-performance issues.

That isn't to say, that the various aspects of the female components are less complex. It does a hell of a lot more work. 

And then at some point, by some weird mystery, which is probably more difficult to explain than the way television works. A new plastic machine is created.

Isn't this all Magical? Isn't the Marvelous Plastic Machine kind of, dare I say it? Sexy? Well, probably not from what we see here. 

I think I found my calling...

If my future pursuits of becoming a nurse with a mustache does not succeed, I think I am going to take up Ostrich Farming in Florida...






Believe me, I have had worse ideas...

Family Legends

Today I am going to take a break from writing the silly and inane posts of the past month and post a bit of family history.

The following are tiny relics of my grandparents and great aunt's travels from America to Japan before World War II. 

These postcards are from the ocean liner, Tenyo Maru.  From what I can tell from old photographs, my family set sail on this ship from San Francisco to Osaka.

Most of these relics were lost the day after the bombing of Pearl Harbor. According to family lore, when news reached my grandmother that the FBI was rounding up members of the Japanese community for questioning, she burned every photograph of her youth in Japan. 

Before my great aunt passed away she gave me an old book of photographs and an old cigar box filled with an odd assortment of papers. Included were these three cards. One photograph shows Obachan, my aunt, her husband, Grandma and Grandpa, all dressed in elegant coats wearing beautiful hats standing in front of the ships life preserver.

Carded...Posted...Oh Deer...

For some reason, I have these in my my pile of stuff.


Not exactly certain where these came from. It may have been from a mailing from a friend when I was working on collage projects or I might have grabbed them from an antique shop in Upstate New York.
If I had picked them up in New York, it must have been years ago with the intention to mail them to a British woman I was working with that summer whom I had become quite infatuated with...but that was years ago. In the end, I never got her address, never quite figured what to write, and figured that an ocean plus a continent plus her being seven years older than me meant she really would forget about me after a few months anyway.

Ergo...

These old post cards were never mailed...


Is this a sad story? Maybe just mildly pathetic.

Boldly...

A number of people have asked me whether I have seen the recent Star Trek movie and of course I tell them, "No." But I do like to let them know that I have read the following book by Mr. Leonard Nimoy:



Why should I watch Mr. Nimoy dress up as some alien, when I can spend the evening at home reading a book length ballad about the search for meaning in earthly existence?


If I went to see the movie, I would have spent ten dollars or something only to see a few minutes of Mr. Nimoy in some weird time paradox, that inevitably some Trekkie will get bent out of shape about. But I spent two dollars for this book, and I can voyage beyond any star field and galaxy with this book.



Why? Because reading is cool!


Actually...this book is pretty much tripe. Yet, some people love tripe and other offal. I don't quite know if I am one of those people. This orange book is what it is--a book length piece of sometimes rhyming literature written by a celebrity. I still would take it over most any pop-autobiography out on the market today.

Science Made Easy...Dinosaurs

Sometimes I truly believe that I missed my calling in life. I really should have been a naturalist, or taken up a career in in biological illustrations, or studied dinosaurs...

I must have made this when I was in fifth grade or there about.

Somewhere, I have a sequence of drawings I did of creatures I made up for different environments. All of the drawings were inspired by the illustrations of Dougal Dixon and Golden Guide Books . When I find these, they will be posted. 

A Favorite Comic Story: Doctor 13: Architecture & Mortality

DC Comics has close to seventy-five years of history. Everyone knows Superman, Batman, Wonderwoman, and most of the major heroes of this universe, but when you span seven-and-a-half decades of serial stories, there are bound to be a number of characters that get swept away.

Very often, most of these characters "die" the metaphorical death of comics written out of popularity. Times change, and certain heroes just don't make much sense any more. But sometimes, some characters have some relevance even well past their prime. Or not. But they still have potential. I guess with the correct writer, even a D-list figure can be made interesting. Case in point, the story at hand. With Brian Azarello writing and Cliff Chiang on art duties, Doctor 13 is a book for comic book nerds with a love of comic book tropes, DC Comics history, metafiction, comedy, and Nazi gorillas.



One things I love about this story is how it includes so many bad ideas: Ghost pirates, a tank haunted with the ghost of a Confederate general, a caveman thawed from ice who speaks only French, and, of course, Nazi Gorillas individually probably would not work on their own. However, together as a team pulled together in absurdity, with only one person playing the voice of reason, we end up with magic.


Okay a bit a of history: The Primate Patrol (the group of Nazi Gorillas) was an idea from a comic titled "Weird War Tales" back in the 70s. I believe they only appeared a few times, kind of around the era when Planet of the Apes movies were reaching their fourth or fifth sequel. Now, nobody really likes Nazis. But people love monkeys. With the following page, Azarello does something that is kind of odd...he gives a sense of pathos to these outcasts of outcasts. You kind of feel for these Nazi Gorillas abandoned in the wilderness believing in a war that was ended sixty years earlier.



If you think that Nazi Gorillas are a bit much to handle and on the absurd side. Consider the following: Julius, the leader of the Primate Patrol sacrifices himself to help one of Doctor 13's allies, "I, Vampire"-a vampire who fights against evil vampires and refuses to drink the blood of the innocent. While "I, Vampire" has never feasted on the blood of primate before it does restore him and they continue their quest. However, Julius transforms...




Yep...Nazi Vampire Gorillas. I have two words for this: Fucking Awesome!



There are a lot of good things about this book. And I figure I will leave you with the following images. I show my true roots as an Merican.

Few things to mentions: Don't ever mess with our nations founding fathers. A good number of our presidents (except Bush the Lesser) will kick your ass. And never challenge a national monument wearing spandex shorts.




Seriously...Nobody fucks with Mount Rushmore.

A series of bad ideas...

This evening, I have nothing really important to say.
So I present two lists...a list of the comic books I will be reading tonight and a list of the songs I have had stuck in my head.

Today's reading list includes the following comic books:

Tiny Titans: Welcome to the Treehouse
Justice Society of America #27
Gotham Gazette: Batman Alive? One Shot
Final Crisis Aftermath: Ink #1
Trinity #52
Green Lantern #41
Justice League of America #33
The Last Days of Animal Man #1

Songs stuck in my head include the following:

"Sweetpea" by Tommy Roe
"Little Willy" by Sweet
The jingle for Meow Mix
"Epic Problem" by Fugazi
"Blue Moon" by The Marcels
"Take a Chance on Me" by Abba
"Hooked on a Feeling" by BJ Thomas

That is about all I have to say...

Mystery

Every so often, I encounter something that makes me wonder:"Hmmm...well how bad could it really be?"And then I think. Stand there for a minute and question the logic of that question. Perhaps if this were more of an imperative statement.YOU SHOULD REALLY GO SOMEPLACE ELSE RIGHT NOW
I would think, "Oh, man that bathroom must be really messed up."Or even a simple out of order sign would make me turn away.
But the simple suggestion that I "May" want to use someplace else seems to imply that I really wouldn't have a problem with whatever lurked behind this benign door.
Well...Instead of discovering what the mystery was. I decided to take the above picture and leave it as one of those great unknowns. I consider it to be the Holy Grail of my office...I am forbidden to really see what is beyond the door.

A Very Special Interview...

Today dear readers, we have a very special guest. In fact I was kind of surprised to have encountered this gentleman for many reasons. First of all he lives far, far way. Second, most Americans don't really like him very much; yet he is an elected leader of his own country. He's the man who puts the terror in Tehran...and other bad puns that I really have no use in using right now...


I present Mr. President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.



Wonderful Wonder of Clutter: First of all President Ineedtoshavemydad it is a pleasure to acquaint. What brings you to Portland? And what brings you to my neighborhood bar?

President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad: Well, I was on my way to Seattle, the Space Needle to be precise. But I got lost. So I ended up here. I really like the Motel 6 they...umm...Keep lights on for you. Use our oil and such.

WWC: That's wonderful, but don't you find it a bit odd being here in the US? Not too many people in America really are fond of you.

The Prez: You know sometimes people are like that. But I must say, I like this Portland. The climate is so nice. People are not nearly as strange and other places in this odd country of yours. I do wish you had more of the Put-Put.

WWC: Put-Put?

The Prez: Yes, with the little clubs and the balls...In Tehran, everything is sand traps and there are no windmill par 3 holes. 

WWC: You mean Mini-Golf?

The Prez: Yes.

WWC: Seriously?

The Prez: Why would I not be serious? You think I make joke? This is why Americans earn our wrath. I come to this country to see your Space Needle and to tour your Put-Put and now you make fun of me?

WWC: Sorry about that, I did not mean to make jest in any way. I honestly.

The Prez: No!

WWC: Excuse me. 

The Prez: Fuck You...Fuck you and your silly blog...may the fleas of a thousand camels nest in your mustache! Good day!

Please note no Presidents were harmed during the making of this blog entry. And in all honesty, I really want to visit Tehran some day. I think I might have blacklisted myself with this little ditty.