BrainFart:

All-righty-then.  Let’s talk POPE.
His pointy-headed Holiness descends upon these fair isles (there’s got to be an “aisles” pun there, but this is SACRED and PURE and NO LAUGHING MATTER also I can’t think of it) …

The Keyboard Is My FuckMonkey:
Okay…  Back to last week’s ongoing Super-Heroic Super-Ramble.
CATCHUP CORNER:
You’ll recall we concluded — using the triple-pronged spear of Logic, Axiomatic Truth and Si Shouting Nonsense Until We All Nod And Agree …

The Keyboard Is My FuckMonkey:

Steroidal Science-Powered Archetype of Teenage America’s Wishful-Vision-Of-Perfect-Adulthood seeks new role, new challenges, new costume.  No cape-work, no call centres, no Nazis.  Action and excitement a MUST!!!

Call 555-DECONSTRUKT-COMIX.
That’s pretty much …

News From The SpurSphere:

Forgive me dipping oh-so-briefly into the horrors of Social Politics — specifically that least divisive of all issues, ho ho ho, the Police — and accept my promise to be as …

The Keyboard Is My FuckMonkey:
“Mind the gap!”
So shrieketh the subway-based baddie in underrated 70′s schlock horror flick Death Line, which is on my tellybox right now and therefore relevant, and coincidently acts as proof that …

Kultcha:
Terrible movies can save us all from an Evil Future.  Behold My Tortured Logic:
See, a couple of Interesting Viewing Experiences this week have hacked-open a rambly contemplation in the viscera of my Culturegut, on the …

Kultcha:
Overheard conversation between Angry Teacher and Smarmy Little 8-yr-old Schoolkid Bastard, during school-trip to Cultural/Historical Motherlode The British Museum.
AngryTeacher: Bradley!  Bradley! How dare you?  I heard that! I heard what you called Ashoke!  Come here!
SmarmBastard: …

The Keyboard Is My FuckMonkey:
Like a sluttish protein syruping itself into the Primordial Cell, Google continues to invade my Working Routine.
“I’m vital to your evolutionary complexity,” it smarms, “but I’m only looking-out for myself.  How …

This Week I Have Been Mostly Hating:
…Having the cruel wobbly knife of gender inequality rammed-home with a corkscrew twist.
During a recent visit to a Businessman-Gravitating, Baby-Squealing, Fuckwit-Attracting Noisegasm (cf: “Starbucks“) — about which I believe …

BrainFart:
Much has been made, in recent years, of the ubiquitous MetaFiction Movement.
Technically that’s any piece of narrative which wears its Not Really Real-ness on its sleeve: often reminding readers of its own fictionality, sometimes deliberately …

I Fakt You, Right In The Face:
Amazing and Helpful news from the world of Real Actual Science!
We’ve all seen crazed labfreaks forcing innocent animals into the twisty tortures of a Maze, right?  We’ve all seen …

The Keyboard Continues To Be My FuckMonkey:
COMICS!
Convention season, I’m reliably informed, is In Full Swing.  Here then is a ludicrously tangential Brainmake intended to Explain A Few Things about the types of people — specifically …

(Back By Popular Demand, You Fuckers) — This Week I Have Mostly Been Hating:
…the subconscious propensity for the human brain to absorb external sensation and shit it — like some thoughtless post-jalfrezi sphincter — into …

BrainFart:
Dear Fatties Of A Certain Kind: it is my sad duty to inform you that wearing Sportswear doesn’t actually mean you’re Doing Sports.  Weight loss, under these conditions, is unlikely.
I’m not looking to blame, you …

The Keyboard Is My FuckMonkey:
NOVELWATCH:
As I type this, I’m about two weeks clear of finishing my next novel.  (That’s for any given, ill-defined value of “finished”, of course — let’s not over-egg the pudding.)
It’s …

BRAINFART:
I long to live in a world in which “toilet rolls” are a complex Acrobatic Manoeuvre reserved for an extremely specialist Olympics Event, rather than a shitrag wound round cardboard.
Just saying.
The AutoCue Says Keep …

BrainFart:
I get a tiny flutter of pleasure whenever I find a typo in a professionally published novel.  I feel it’s important that you know this about me.
I confess, it’s only a short step from there …

Kultcha:
Quezon City: most populous berg in the Already-Pretty-Fucking-Teeming Philippines, where overworked and creatively-stunted businessmen have taken the ancient martial art of Karaoke to a whole new level of rabid frothing seriousness.
(An Aside:
Personally, I’ve …

The Keyboard Is My FuckMonkey:

Okay.  A few final squeezings from the citric tumour I’ve been mercilessly wringing-out this past couple of weeks, concerning the whole Western-World Superhero / comic-book / industryrape / storydeath Thing.  …

The KeyBoard Is My FuckMonkey:
Some extra-curricular thoughts on the whole “Superheroes: Good Or Bad For Comics” debate, which has been raging — RAGING! Like a furious mayfly! — all week long, in the echoing and …

The KeyBoard Is My FuckMonkey:
It’s been a while since I said much about comics here. Apparently — on the grounds that this is a comics-related column, hosted by a comics-related website, packed full of …

BrainFart:
I’m ill, screw you.
Gripped by lugubrious fevers, somersaulting fuzzily through the Paracetamol Nebula, I have ditched the idea of Real Actual Work and seized instead the chance to squirt, bleed and spume my self-pity all …

I Fakt You, Right In The Face:
So. We’ve all heard that one about the ice-hearted sleazy government fuckoids who have, using arcane Mathematical Practices, worked out in actual real Dollars how much you’re worth. …

BrainFart:
Suicide bombers. Fucking idiots, really.
I mean, yes, no, no, let’s not get ourselves drawn into a philosophical argument about the existence (or otherwise) of Causes Worth Dying For. Think of the children, think …

Plugged
I don’t like strangers.
Actually, that’s not entirely true. Under certain very narrowly defined conditions, usually involving Profound Silence, Extreme Stillness, and Utter Lack Of Irritating
Smells, I rather enjoy meeting new people. Once in a while …

Achieve even a modicum of success in the field of writing comics — a solitary prideparticle of Published Material; a lonely tick on your comicography; a flicker of sperm-frothed spandex on the ledger of your …

Apparently it’s Christmas.
Sheltered as I am from such festive frippery in my sticky saunapit of meat-flavoured bitterness; sick as I am with the taste of a billion badly-cooked and overpriced turkeys; poor as I am …

BrainFart:
Crazy urban troubleshooting this week…
Problem: How do you stop crowds of listless hoodie-wearing juvenile scallywanks from hanging about in the mouths of warm, cosy tube stations after dark: smoking the flagitious fags of Fear, spitting …