Recovery, Apology, and Announcements

First off, thank you to everyone who offered encouragement and support in the comments of that last post. I wrote it while in a stew, so I wasn’t at my most rational. I’m glad I wrote it, though—it’s good to get these things down on paper (as it were). I’m going to take several roads to recovery. Most importantly among them, I fully intend to enroll in a college art class next semester. I took a UAA beginning drawing class waaaaaay the hell back in my freshman year of high school, but I was probably too young for anything to really “click” with me. This time, it will be an advanced drawing class at APU. Gina’s going to try and get me in at a discounted rate (she has some pull there, being a professor an' all). Up until now, it’s mostly been self-taught, which may have been ultimately to my detriment: you may have noticed that I’m fairly immobile in my habits. I’m also going to start drawing on the Wacom more. It’s something I’ve always meant to do, but pen and ink is just more convenient. I’m coming to realize that good art is never convenient. Scott and the Silk Succubus taught me that. Good art takes days, not hours.

I also have several art-related announcements. First, I’m going to bring back the When Pigs Fly comic on a semi-regular basis, maybe even once a week. The comic is good for me: it helps me with my sense of composition, space, and comic timing. It’s also nice to have a stable of characters to develop. However, I will not be sticking with the usual four-panel thing. That’s a holdover from my college days. I think the digital horizons have freed up space restrictions. The first comic I want to complete is not working well in the confines of the traditional four-panel setting, so I’m abandoning it.

Second, I will (perhaps after the art class) begin an honest-to-god online webcomic in the vein of Lackadaisy Cats or Dreamland Chronicles. I’m talking about big, page-sized entries with lots of panels and a continuing storyline. It will not star Selena Isley, but a new character I’ve been quietly developing: Lilem Beatrice Mephistopholese. I’ll dedicate an entire post to her soon, don’t worry. However, this project is much larger and complicated that When Pigs Fly, which itself is more comparable with Penny Arcade. This will be a persistent mythos, with developed characters, settings, and art direction. The catch is that I will need to learn to draw people in a variety of ways. This will be the primary challenge, but I can already see the first few pages in my head…

Third, and most importantly, I am going to write a book. This task will begin straight away: the text is the most critical aspect. If all goes according to plan, I will not, myself, be illustrating it. Hopefully, I will be leaving that half of the work to an artist far more capable than myself. Of course, should this hopeful venture not succeed, I can find other ways to complete the project. It will be about dinosaurs, yes, and I have hinted at its contents before on this very blog. Brian Switek has given me inspiration and much to think about, and I have glimpsed a way forward. It will be a daunting task, but one that will hopefully leave an impression on the world before I leave it.

…which will be sooner than most of you. I often ignore this fact, yet it is unavoidable.

I will explain each project in more detail in the coming days. For the first time in what seems like forever, I am genuinely excited about my upcoming projects!

Artistic Self-Loathing (Introspection!)

I’ve been turning my attention to video games lately. I just bought a slew of them, and more will probably be en route on my birthday. I really like video games, of course, and I routinely play them. But the last few days have seen me delve into that virtual land with unfettered resolve, popping in Uncharted and playing for like two hours instead of doing what I should be doing: drawing. And that’s what I do. In order to escape my own terrifying lack of artistic skill, I retreat into somebody else’s wonderful preponderance of it. You will notice, when I post pictures, that my gaming library is filled with games that value art direction (with some exceptions). Those guys at Insomniac and Retro Studios, man, they’re freaking amazing. Likewise, I’ll often engorge myself on printed or web art drawn by artists who make my most complex pieces look like stick figures. I had this same crises a few years ago, after discovering Lackadaisy Cats. I’m having the same crisis now, but this time it extends to a subject I always thought I was good at: prehistoric animals. I met Lukas Panzarin at SVP and looked through his portfolio. A lot of unfinished work was in there. Unfinished work that put mine to fucking shame. I also met Mark Hallet, one of my paleo-art idols, and looked through his most recent works. I was similarly floored.

It’s probably my own stubbornness. I straight-up refuse to pay for a proper Photoshop and the kind of computer that would support it (Mac). Similarly, I don’t like painting--I’m not a patient guy. I do like doing digital work, but Photoshop Elements is distinctly crippled compared to its full-priced sibling, and I have a very small scanner. The amenities required for proper digital art are prohibitively expensive (a Mac, Photoshop, maybe Lightbox, Manga Studio, and a bigger tablet). So the work I do is generally pencil-and-ink stuff, though by no means detailed! No cross-hatching here. Very often, there is no shading. Usually, there is no context. Any why? Because I don’t have the patience to sit down and read a book about Mesozoic foliage.

I bring this up because I have two kind of “uber-projects” in mind that I’d like to start on in the next few months. Both of these require a degree of artistic skill that I do not have. The first is an honest-to-god webcomic, structured a bit like Lackadaisy or Dreamland Chronicles, that would demand I learn how to draw people, and learn how to draw people. And not just women, but men, too. And architecture, to a degree. And rock formations and backgrounds and context and all the crap I’ve been avoiding for almost 27 years. This is incredibly frustrating—I have such a crystal-clear idea in my head for this, but I don’t have the skill to put it on paper. And it seems like no matter how hard I practice, I rarely learn. Does that make sense? The second project is about dinosaurs. I have absolutely no hesitation with the writing—I’m a good writer—but the level of detail I want in the art is going to be hard. I know I can probably do it myself, but it’s gonna take a long-ass time. I’ll have to confront a different batch of demons here: perspective, detail work, and, most likely, heavy digital editing.

Granted, these feelings (about everything) have been building over time. I really can’t stand my own habit of drawing things from the side only, but it’s easy and quick. Now, I know I can draw dinosaurs from different angles (I have before), but it takes longer and requires more effort. It seems like there’s a maximum amount of effort I’m able to drain into some of my art. Maybe I’m just in a rut, or at a crossroad, or something else. I guess it boils down to this: I’m impatient. I’ve got these great ideas in my head and I want to be able to put them on paper NOW, not later.

I Got a New Hat

I changed my T-shirt for this picture, but you should be aware that those particular pants were already on. The hat was my Club Nintendo reward for becoming a Platinum member (thank Cthulhu for free review copies). I love it! Perhaps this will be my new "signature" headwear. I'd be a lot easier to pick out of the SVP crowd. Everybody wears a cowboy hat, but how many people wear a Mario hat?

Spooky Halloween Movies!

Thinking about having a Halloween movie night? Who isn’t? Here are ten of my favorite Halloween movies, in no particular order. Get to the video store early, ‘cause a lot of these will have disappeared by then. Or, if you’re like me, you subscribe to NetFlix, thus contributing to the much-anticipated decline of brick-and-mortar video stores that charge late fees and only let you have new releases for 24 hours. This is a veiled “screw you” toward Blockbuster, if you haven’t figure that out already. Anyway, on to the movies!


The Thing (1982)
I differentiate this from the B&W original, The Thing From Outer Space, because they are completely different movies. Both are excellent, but for different reasons. John Carpenter’s excellent 1982 ode to cabin fever stars Kurt Russell and Kurt Russell’s Beard as well as various other actors who I don’t remember the names of. The film concerns a crew of researches in Antarctica who discover and are hunted by an alien that can imitate biological entities perfectly. Before long, nobody trusts anybody else, and Kurt starts taking a flamethrower to blood samples. The oppressive, muted musical score and claustrophobic hallways really bring out the spookiness of the film. It doesn’t hurt that the special effects—which are entirely practical—hold up very well even today. It is without a doubt my favorite horror movie.


The Ring (American version)
I went through a bit of a J-horror kick a few years ago, renting every Japanese horror movies I could get my hands on. In this manner, I subjected myself to the original versions of Ringu (The Ring), Ju-On (The Grudge), Pulse, and The Eye. Let it be known that, in all cases, the Japanese originals have low budgets, terrible pacing, and WAY too much emphasis on human sacrifice and technophobia. In almost all cases, the American versions of these films are far more effective, especially The Ring. It is truly disturbing in many, many ways. Watch this one with the sound up and the lights out, with a room full of friends who jump at the “it’s just the cat” scene in Aliens. There is no better way.


Frailty
After a successful career as a space marine but before his current stint as a Mormon polygamist, Bill Paxton was an axe-murderer, killing sinners in the name of the lord. His religious zeal and unwavering conviction is what makes the movie so good, and Bill is an underrated actor. The film also examines how his beliefs impact his two children, one of whom took on his father’s mantle and continued slaying “demons.” It’s not a big-budget, eye-candy movie, but it’s subtle and effective.


Event Horizon
This is one of few horror movies that kind of screwed me up as a youngster. I saw it way too young, and had nightmares for several days afterwards. I only recently re-watched the movie, and it’s still very effective. It’s kind of like The Amnityville Horror in space, but more fucked up. It’s got lots of disturbing imagery and good pacing, with some very claustrophobic sequences and a very tense atmosphere. The best scares happen midway through the movie, as they start to lose their effectiveness during the action-packed finale. Still, it’s a helluva ride that’s well worth time in your DVD player.

(Good picture apparently not available on Google)
Cabin Fever
This is a good horror movie in that it starts out with a very familiar premise (a bunch of teenagers get drunk in a backwoods cabin) but quickly turns into something disturbing and different. No slashers here, just a flesh-eating virus that begins to infect the kids one by one. The grisly makeup effects might not go over well with the feint of heart or queasy of stomach, but the story progression is great and you really do feel sorry for the characters. This is one of the more gore-tastic movies on my list, but you’ve gotta have one blood ‘n’ guts movie on a Halloween series, right?


The Mist
Adapted from an old Stephen King novel, The Mist is about a group of small-town citizens trapped in a grocery store as a terrifying fog covers the town. Anyone who goes outside tends to be killed by some otherworldly creature. Like The Thing, this movie is more about cabin fever than the monsters themselves. When they do show up, though, the creature effects are wonderful and convincing. Things go from bad to worse when the local religious crazy lady starts preaching Armageddon and turning the pious against the rational. The ending is particularly tragic, and changed from the novel. Mr. King liked it so much that he’s changed the ending to all new editions of the book. Two of the monsters in particular have very Lovecraftian designs, which makes me happy.


Jacob’s Ladder
This movie is largely responsible for inspiring the usually-excellent Silent Hill series of video games. Tim Robbins’ life starts falling apart when he discovers that his girlfriend is a demon, and he may or may not have been the subject of bizarre military experiments in Vietnam. The movie’s pacing is its worst quality—it’s too long, and parts of it are too slow or entirely unnecessary. But the core concept is great, and the ending is a surprise. Some of the “demonic” features that Tim sees are pretty freaky; “wrong” in just such a way as to make you gag a little. The hospital scene in particular is bizarre and disturbing.


Freddy vs. Jason
This is a good old-fashioned slasher movie: over-the-top (but silly) violence, comical villains, gratuitous nudity, and a bunch of teenagers. I forget how the two end up fighting each-other, but does it really matter? All you really need to know is that Freddy turns into a pot-smoking caterpillar at one point and possesses the group’s stoner friend. Also, there’s lots of blood and people are slashed in ridiculous ways. Have you ever seen a Friday the 13th movie? How about a Nightmare on Elm Street entry? Do you like either one? If your answer is a rousing “Sort of!” then you’ll probably like Freddy vs. Jason.


Silent Hill
You may think that a movie based on a video game is an instant FAIL (and I wouldn’t blame you), but this particular film is pretty good, even if you haven’t played the games it’s based so heavily on. The movie takes its inspiration mainly from the original game and makes some bizarre and unexplainable changes to it, but also includes significant winks to Silent Hill 2. The movie reaches a good balance between being gory and disturbing. It’s all the more disturbing when you realize that the vast majority of creatures in the film are played by heavily made-up actors. Real people, that is. I want that Pyramid Head costume!


Dead Alive
One of Peter Jackson’s early efforts, Dead Alive is perhaps the goriest film ever made. Remember how gruesome the first two Evil Dead movies were? Dead Alive makes them look like Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood. Truly, this is not a movie for the weak of gag reflex. Despite this, the movie is hilarious and the gore is mostly over-the-top and comical. The ending is particularly…um…disturbing in a certain way. Because of its goretastic spectacles, the film was banned in several countries and cut significantly for its initial American release. It’s not hard to find the director’s cut nowadays. If you have NetFlix, it’s easily available.


Honorable Mentions
Coraline: I wouldn’t call this a “Halloween” movie, but it’s excellent nonetheless, and sometimes spooky.
Elvira: Mistress of the Dark: Elvira and her gigantic breasts star in what’s basically a series of running jokes and nods to old horror films.
Young Frankenstein: Possibly Mel Brooks’ funniest movie.
Drag Me to Hell: Sam Raimi is so much better at making campy horror movies than he is at directing super-hero movies.
Slither: Kind of a cross between The Faculty and a zombie movie. It has that Firefly dude and the girl from Zack and Miri Make a Porno.
The Faculty: Lots of now-big stars made their debut in this contrived, but entertaining, horror movie.
Phantoms: Entertaining because it’s so terrible.

He's Also Full of Turtle Meat

Since Godzilla vs. Gamera will never be made (seriously, Toho shot that idea down years ago), fans of daikaiju cinema will have to make due with the piecemeal bones thrown to fans every five years or so. Godzilla's in retirement until his 60th anniversary, but I'm happy to report that Gamera the Brave has finally made it to our shores. It is the first (and perhaps only) Millenium entry in the Gamera franchise. It's going to be tough to upstage the "Guardian of the Universe" trilogy (which is awesome), but I'm going to run right out and buy this...or order it online...whichever way gets me it quicker.

Darwinopterus, Germanodactylus, and Pterorhynchus

Well, here he is: Darwinopterus modularis, the new "rhamphodactyloid" that defies precise classification from China. This is the skull, which you'll notice is very similar to a certain European pterodactyloid: Germanodactylus (wonder where it's from?). The skulls are indeed quite similar. In fact, I think I remember David Unwin remarking at SVP that if the skull alone was run through a phylogenetic analysis, it came up as being very close to Germanodactylus. Doesn't surprise me in the least: I just drew both of them. I'm a little unsure of how accurate the skull restoration of the German genus is in Wellnhofer's usually excellent tome. I say this because I was a bit perplexed by the shape and positions of some (read: many) bones. But, generally, the shapes are very similar. There are some differences, sure:


That's Germanodactylus on top, Darwinopterus on the bottom. These are not to scale, although both genera were fairly small pterosaurs. I notice many similarities, especially in the snout. Both have roughly the same number of teeth, both have similar separations between the premaxilla and maxilla. The bony portions of the crest begins just cranially to the nasoantorbita fenestrae in both, and runs up to the back of the orbit. The structure of the mandible in both genera is strikingly similar. Of course, differences remain: in Germanodactylus, the nasoantorbital fenestrae are invaded by two distinct prongs of bone (unless that's an artifact of preservation). The shape of the orbit is very different in both animals, as is the basic architecture of the back of the skull.

Chris Bennett reported a soft-tissue crest in Germanodactylus way back in 2002 that grew out from a bony base. This base is figured in Wellnhofer's book. An osteological base for a soft-tissue (perhaps cornified) crest is not unheard of. Some of you may remember Pterorhynchus, a Mongolian taxon described by Czerkas & Ji in 2002. The description is comical in its near complete absence of technical details on the horribly-preserved skeleton: most of the text is used to discuss the animal's soft-tissue crest and hairlike structures surrounding the body. The animal has never been formally described, so I hesitate to even mention it here. However, in the comments of Darren Naish's excellent discussion of Darwinopterus (which I suggest reading over this meager yarn), Jaime Headden suggested that the genus may be synonymous with Pterorhynchus. I scoffed, reminding the readers that Pterorhynchus' skeleton and skull were (as far as I knew) hidden by damage and matrix. I also raised this concern on DinoForum. And lo, the forum gods did descend and offered me this wonderful photograph:


Wow! That's Pterorhynchus, believe it or not. It was re-prepared by the Chinese after Czerkas & Ji were done with it, I guess. Looks incredible, no? Although it's still really beat up, some features immediately stand out. Most notably, the dentition is a lot closer to Rhamphorhynchus than pterodactyloids. However, most interestingly, it appears to have a singular nasoantorbital fenestra. The dentary is oddly shaped, its ventral margin sloping downward from the joint and then suddenly straightening out, leaving a very obvious "corner" about halfway down. I'm going to say that Pterorhynchus is not synonymous with Darwinopterus, but I think it should be re-described (not by Czerkas) and thrown into a phylogeny, as I'd like to see where it falls out.

Anyway, note the impressive soft-tissue crest that is preserved as an impression in the rock. It has its humble beginnings as a small raised bump just in front of the nasoantorbital fenestrae. This has at least some consequence to the crest of Darwinopterus. I asked Dr. Unwin, at SVP, whether the new pterosaur's crest was bone or soft-tissue. He said that as the animals grows, the dorsal margin of the crest becomes jagged, which he takes to mean that it began supporting a large soft-tissue structure. This would be awesome, though I'd like to see more specimens. There are apparantly more than 20, though only two are featured in the description.

So there you have it. I don't think that Pterorhynchus = Darwinopterus based on a purely superficial look at a low-res photo of the re-prepared fossil of the former, and I think the skull of Darwinopterus looks a lot like the skull of Germanodactylus! SCIENCE!

April O'Neil's Animated Downfall

I don't know if you've all heard, but the TMNT are making a fanservice comeback with a direct-to-DVD movie called Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Forever in which the 80's animated turtles team up with the turtles of the current animated series. Hijinks ensue. Watch a nostalgia-filled clip at Topless Robot, my source for all things nerdcore. You'll notice, perhaps right away, that Leonardo didn't sound anything like that in the original 80's cartoon. He now sounds black, but in a cheap James Earl Jones way. Also of note: April O'Neil's surprisingly robust bra, which is valiently holding up some gargantuan breasts. If you go back and watch the original 80's show before it got tossed to CBS and got all Bruce Timm-ified, especially the first four episodes, you'll see that, in fact, April's bizarrely large boobs are not new, but an honest-to-god holdover from the 80's cartoon. She even has cleavage in a few episodes. That shit wouldn't fly today.

In fact, April herself has become more and more vanilla in animation with the steadfast march of time. Consider:


April O'Neil, circa mid-1980's. Stupid yellow jumpsuit: Check. Reporter for Channel 6 news: Check. Roommate named Irma who's a blatant ripoff of Annie Potts' character from Ghostbusters but not as sarcastic and more bubbleheaded: Check. Combative skills: Uncheck. Rescued by the turtles basically every episode because of that: Check. April was kind of a loveable character in the 80's series. One could argue that she and Splinter were the only level-headed characters on the entire show. Yeah, she got kidnapped a lot, but that was often because of her dedication to "getting the story" and winning a Pulitzer or something. After the show went all "dark" on CBS, April wasn't kidnapped as much and finally changed her wardrobe to something a little less leisure-suitish.


You might not recognize this as April O'Neil, and I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. This is her 2003 animated series avatar, and she now looks stupid. She's gone from being a curvy brunette to a straight-up-and-down redhead with horrible fashion sense and the inability to wear eye-catching colors. She manages an antique shop and used to work for Baxter Stockman, which is more in line with the original Mirage series, so that's...good. I guess. It's just that the character is GONE. I've seen the 2003 series and man, it's closer to the original comic, sure, but it really lacks heart. April is a space-filler, and doesn't contribute in any meaningful way to the storylines. She doesn't usually show up at all. Also, notice that her rack has been downplayed significantly. I blame oversensitive networks. If it was an actual character design choice, then I'm all for it, but the cynic in me thinks that Fox was scared of offended parents or advertisers, as so often happens these days. Was this just not an issue in 1987?


Am I the only one who LIKED the 2007 CGI movie? I might be. But as I've said before on this blog, the TMNT work on a very limited bandwidth for me, and I think the stories work best when dealing with the group as a coherent unit, or a family. Shredder is overused (god, they keep bringing him back in the animated series), and the science fiction crap doesn't really gel with my "vision" for the Turtles. These are real characters. Triceratons are great, but I don't think they belong in New York City. Sorry, Mirage. Anyway, April was portrayed well (initially) in the CGI film. I think she was back to being a reporter? It was never really clear.


But then, suddenly and without warning, she's a NINJA. With mad skillz on par with the Turtles. I think Splinter was teaching her on the side? Again, it's never really clear. And her costume is ridiculous. Its blinding yellow hue may be an homage to her 80's counterpart, but I think it's probably more of an homage to Kill Bill, given that she also wields a katana. This was a shameful, shameful turn for the character. Yeah, it's empowering and all that jazz, but April is a totally different entity now. It would be like Samus Aran giving up bounty hunting and becoming a galactic insurance salesman.


This is what April looks like now, on the current season of the animated series. She's getting married to Casey Jones, which is nice. She looks like her CGI counterpart, which I'm sure is intentional. I like the fact that she looks like a girl instead of a punk kid. I haven't been keeping up with the last few seasons of the show, but I hear she's still a ninja. Poor girl needs to each a sammich, though. Maybe you just can't put breasts on animated characters anymore? Excuse me while I completely lose interest in American animated kids shows (this probably should have happened around the time Powerpuff Girls became popular). By the way, I think the 4th season of The Venture Bros. started at midnight last night/this morning. Now there's a good animated show...of course, it's not really for kids.

Well, that was interesting. No matter what horrible design derailings happen to April O'Neil, though, nothing can beat this little gem from The Next Mutation:


MY EYES! THE GOGGLES DO NOTHING!

Postscripto: Is it wierd that I love the TMNT, but hate the vast majority of comics/films/shows that portray them? There are a few really standout examples of what I think works for the turtles, but it's not even IN any of the Mirage books (especially the current one). I think the later volumes of the Archie Adventure Series nailed my turtle vibe pretty well, and bits and pieces of the Image series. The latter is almost universally reviled by other turtle fans. I also hate Jim Lawson's "art" with a passion, but he is generally considered "the" TMNT artist. So I love the characters, but hate almost everything they're featured in. This seems like a paradox.

Miragaia v.3

Cooler colors for Miragaia to contrast with the firey colors of Brachytrachelopan. I'm not really sure about this one, but I do like the color scheme. I hope you all liked this rousing round of live-blogging! I'll probably tweak ALL of theme images for the actual Art Evolved show which is coming up in November. And as always, your comments are welcome and appreciated.

Next-Day Impressions: Oh my god, did I draw this? Was I DRUNK? This is the worst stegosaur I've ever drawn. It's like I squatted over a bed of newspapers and "produced" this awful picture. Now, I still like the colors, but geezus the anatomy is horrible. The tail is longer than the body, the body itself looks nothing like a stegosaur, and YE GODS what's up with the skull? Obviously, I'll be redoing Miragaia. I urge you all to look away.

Miragaia v.1

Well, just to let you know, I'm NOT happy with this, but it's the best picture I came up with. I did a lot of crumpling up while sketching Miragaia. Part of this is because I'm not that great at drawing stegosaurs, but another part is that Miragaia has a lot of missing parts. The tail here, for example, is basically fiction. Hopefully it will improve with the inks...stay tuned!

Brachytrachelopan v.3

Look, it's a LAVA BEAST. I wanted to do something flashy for this sauropod. It came out a little closer to something you'd see from Luis Rey, which I'm not that happy about, but I do like the color scheme. Notice that I drew the neck up, which is not a position you normally see for this sauropod. This is probably about as high as it could curl its neck, given the forward-sloping neural spines on the cervicals that would have severely limited dorsal flexion.

Next up: Miragaia! Gotta start from scratch, so it might be a little while...

Spinophorosaurus v.4

Aaaand here's the final Spinophorosaurus. I went for a sort of African color scheme, because he's from Niger and all. This was a case where I didn't initially like the colors as I was doing them,but I think they come together pretty well in the end. Now I'm going to take a short break while I make some lunch and ink Brachytrachelopan.

Spinophorosaurus v.3

There's the detail work. By the way, if any of you are wondering why I'm not doing this shit on Photoshop, it's because I took Scott's challenge and doing all these pieces with ink alone.

Well, and colored pencils. Because I don't have proper color inking pens.

Live-bloggers do it in real-time

Hey, folks! I totally got sidetracked by car repairs yesterday, but if ya'll tune in right now, you'll be able to watch as I slave away at three pieces for the upcoming sauropod-themed Art Evolve show. My focus: the "stegosauropods," those sauropods (and stegosaurs) that mimic each other in some ways. Behold, the sketches for the first two pieces:


This, of course, is Spinophorosaurus.


And here is Brachytrachelopan. I haven't started the third beastie yet.

Let's work on Spinophorosaurus first...

Alces alces: Up Close & Personal

Look! A giant bull moose in my neighbor's yard! Let's go right up to it!


Wow, he doesn't seem to care that I'm right the heck in front of him.


Now if that ain't a Boon & Crockett rack, I don't know what is.


This moose has actually been living around our neighborhood for awhile--we've seen him several times, but this is the first time he's wandered onto our street. Winter's coming, and I'm sure he's packing on the pounds for when all the leaves are gone and it's just twigs and pine needles.

A Game We Can All Enjoy

The world needs more games where you wander around and are chased by dinosaurs. Activision has heeded this battle cry, announcing Jurassic: The Hunted. It will launch November 3rd for all three modern consoles and, bizarrely, the PS2, for cheap. I'm not even sure what kind of a game this is, but it will feature "arena-style fights, sieges, survival modes, and suitably large boss fights, with an adrenaline mechanic that allows the player to target the enemy's weak spots in slow motion." SOLD. There hasn't been a good dinosaur-themed FPS since...well, honestly, Turok: Dinosaur Hunter on the N64 (I hestitate to call Turok 2: Seeds of Evil dinosaur-themed), so it's about time we got a new one. And this game looks beautiful. Heavily stylized, but I don't care. That looks like a Todd Marshall Spinosaurus! Click the link for more screenshots, including what appears to be Torosaurus.

Hello, Frank!

I'll have much more to say on this subject once I finish prepping the art, but for now, ya'll should run over to Tetrapod Zoology, Archosaur Musings, and Mark Witton's site for all the info you could possibly want on this awesome new pterosaur. Oh, it's name? Darwinopterus modularis, a.k.a. Frank!

A Question for the Ladies

Hey, remember the Silk Succubus? I've got a problem, and it requires the female perspective. See, I think she's got great potential as a character, and in fact I've spent the last week writing a fairly detailed character bio for her and reading about Christian and Jewish mythology to get her background straight. Before I get into the nitty gritty, though, I've come across a fairly significant problem.

Corsets don't work, because a corset that has two giant slits cut up the back doesn't really stay on. Neither do shirts. Lily's patagia run from her wing-shoulders (which originate on the back of her scapulae) to the top of her pelvis, just above the buttocks, so she can't wear anything with a back. What else can she wear? My only recourse has been one-piece swimsuits that tie around the neck and are otherwise backless. Do these swimsuits exist? What else can the poor succubus wear?

Opposing Views

There are those who might suggest that the American Constitution was divinely inspired by Jesus, who is The Christ.


But then, there is the alternative viewpoint...

The King of the Monsters

Something I found while leafing through old drawings. I drew this ten years ago. This is clearly the Heisei Godzilla, and is heavily influenced by Arthur Adams' art from the Dark Horse books and the Godzilla Compendium. I've since moved on to the Millenium design, which is my favorite.

My Bookshelf

Having recently reorganized all my books, I thought it might be entertaining to show you my sizeable (read: small) library. My books tend to be expensive, so I don't often buy them. The first thing you should notice is that, today anyway, I can't take a clear picture to save my life. Low blood sugar, maybe? Minor earthquake, perhaps? Shitty camera skills? I'm going with Door Number Three, Pat. Good job! I won a new car! This is not the entire bookshelf, mind you. There's a very narrow, but empty, shelf below the "comics, generally" shelf. I keep dragons of the family Eudracocidae down there. Note also that many dragons sit atop the shelf. I really need to get back to that dragon thing, don't I? There are quite a few species I haven't discussed yet.


The topmost shelf displays most of my technical books. Try to guess them all! I go into these books quite often for reference material, so they occupy a high seat in my library.


The second shelf is a little tougher to categorize. I'd call it my "general and popular science" books, although that particular taxonomy falls apart to the right of "Dinosaurs & Prehistoric Creatures," doesn't it? One of the books on this shelf is from Argentina. My one hint: it's huge.


The bottom two shelves are kind of free-for-alls. These books are organized with an eye toward size consistency more than anything else. Thus, my Playboy centerfold collection is sitting over on the right by Lovecraft instead of the Big Book of Breasts. The Cho collections are sitting next to "The Wildlife of Star Wars" instead of by the other comic books. Most bizarrely, Dante and Milton are kind of wedged in the middle, totally out of place. On the bottom shelf...what can I say? It's kind of a mess. This is my formal comic shelf, though you may notice a certain beloved children's book near the middle. The book with the spiral binding is Milbacher's excellent review of the Brontotheridae. It didn't look good anywhere else.

This was fun. I'll have to share my DVD shelf and gaming center at some point, too.

The Church of Tesco

Even when all other restaurants had betrayed us, Tesco was there, offering up cold sandwiches in boxes for surprisingly cheap. I resisted at first, but her siren song called to me one lonely Sunday night when the Subway's credit card machine broke, and every other restaurant was either closed or super-expensive. It was then that I gave in, finally coming to grips with the fact that this particular brand of boxed meal wasn't that bad. Sure, there were some bizarre combinations--"prawn and cucumber," "ham (no cheese)," and "lettuce and tomato (no bacon)"--but when you found a good one, like this particular ham and cheese combination, it was as good as anything you got at Fred Meyer.

I estimate that, during our time in not just London but the UK generally, Gina and I consumed 2,568 boxed sandwiches. Mainly because every other place was prohibitively expensive for Americans and their worthless currency.

Alioramus altai

Say hello to the new tyrannosaurid in town: Alioramus altai, the new sister species of A. remotus. Steve Brusatte discussed, with enthusiasm*, this critter at SVP, and now he's published for all to see. I'm not going to link to the article, because you probably can't get it, because PNAS is too good for open-access. Screw you, PNAS! If anyone here wants a copy of the paper, I am all too happy to email it to them. Just leave your email address in the comments or email me, personally. Anyway, this is an exciting find because A. remotus is known from very scrappy remains, and this new species allows us to figure out where the genus sits in the Tyrannosauroidea--turns out it's not basal at all, but between Albertosaurines and Daspletosaurus + (Tyrannosaurus + Tarbosaurus), making it a member of the exclusive Tyrannosaurini. Steve made a big deal at SVP, at Archosaur Musings, and in the paper about how Alioramus deviates from the traditional tyrannosaur body plan, but I don't really see it. It looks like an albertosaurine to me.

As for the picture, it's just a little something I whipped up during Tobi (one of my meds) last night. I'm not at all happy with the snout texturing, but...eh. Too late to change it now, it's just meant to be a quick sketch anyway.

*Enthusiasm here being the key word. Steve gave two talks (that I know of) at SVP, and he seemed genuinely excited about both. This is at complete odds with about 95% of the other speakers, who sounded like they'd either been up all night or just weren't that enthusatic about their talk in the first place. Honestly, there were times where I suspected the latter (crown length and denticle variation in Coelophysis? Excuse me while I grab a power nap). The only speaker who rose to challenge Steve's bruhaha was a fellow whose name I cannot recall, but he gave a rousing talk about the M. caudofemoralis muscle in Tyrannosaurus with great zeal. His presentation included the phrase "junk in the trunk," so he may have to win some kind of award for that one. Aside from being entertaining, the talk was informative as well, especially for paleo-artists like moi.

Yet Another Stegosauropod

It's almost as if stegosaurs and sauropods had some kind of rivalry going on. First off, you've got Brachytrachelopan, a small Patagonian sauropod with a downturned, shortened neck. Those stegosaurs aren't the only low-grazers in town! A few years later, the stegosaurs up the ante: Miragaia, a curiously long-necked stegosaur who has more cervical vertebrae than any self-respecting sauropod. Take THAT, Sauropoda. Well, while I was in London, the sauropods shot back, with Spinophorosaurus, a normal-sized sauropod with a thagomizer. And this ain't no weaksauce club, Shunosaurus, it's a four-spiked, stegosaurian thagomizer. One wonders how the Stegosauria will respond next.

The Devil Flies from Heathrow to Seattle

There is no hell hot enough to match the torture that was the flight from Heathrow to Seattle. It was, without a glimmer of doubt, the worst plane ride I’ve ever experienced. The sheer number of things that had to happen, often far in the past, in order to converge on this one experience almost makes one believe in fate. Bad luck alone cannot begin to explain the series of unfortunate events which led to this travesty. It was ten hours of pure, unadulterated, uncut misery. It makes me never want to fly again, lest these veiled, incorporeal fates work against me once more.

We were sitting in a jam-packed 747, my wife on the middle row aisle and me next to her. The traveler on my immediate right was a large British gentleman who barely fit in the seat. He wasn’t fat, but just very tall, his limbs spread akimbo across the armrests on either side. Directly in front of us was what appeared to be a newlywed couple who was not in any way shy about their amorous relationship. This wouldn’t bug me so much, but the woman was an inconsiderate bitch: she spent the entire flight with her seat all the way back, and actually had to be told by a flight attendant to put that shit up before landing. I’ll get to why this was so horrible in a second.

But it was our rearward neighbors who provided the most aggravation: pre-school boys, probably no more than five or six, one behind me, and one behind the lanky Brit to my right. I’ll call the one directly behind my seat Lucifer, and his brother is Baal. Lucifer had a fantastic habit of either kicking my seat or getting out of his seat and playing on the ground, thus impacting my seat every few seconds. He did this for almost the entire flight, give or take an hour at the end. No amount of yelling or glaring could put an end to this behavior. His brother, Baal, had an unhealthy fascination with the seatback tray, driving it up and down with great force, repeatedly, and causing the entire middle row in front of him to feel something like a vibrating mattress. Again, the child’s primitive brain did not comprehend strong social cues that are normally taken to mean, “Stop that or I’ll tear off your fucking head.” The best part, though, had to be the tantrums often thrown by Lucifer, whereupon he would cry, kick, and generally behave like an infant. And then, the part that really roused my ire: the lackluster parents, who sat on either side of the two devils, and did absolutely nothing throughout the flight.

Fun fact: When my brother, Luke (The Boy) was little, he threw the kind of tantrums people remember for years after they end. When we were forced to fly somewhere together, my mother would bring a blanket, cover her and The Boy, and cover his mouth and basically just let him cry it out. Her efforts were appreciated by the rest of the commuters, I’m sure. She also occasionally dragged the screaming kid into the bathroom, where she would cover his mouth in there and let him cry it out.

The mother used the latter trick after about an hour or more of tantrum-throwing, more out of a sense of guilt than common decency. But she didn’t cover his mouth—the whole back half of the plane could hear that little brat attempting to raise the dead. Her apathy was so overwhelming that my wife at one point glared at their father, who shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “I know this experience is ruining everybody’s day, but fuck it. I’m not doing a thing.” These parents deserve some sort of apathetic parenting award. There’s a nice easy solution to this whole dilemma that many people either don’t realize or refuse to accept: Don’t take preschoolers on trans-Atlantic flights! I don’t think this should have to be written down anywhere. It’s the kind of general knowledge that one equates with knowing the Earth is round or that gravity pulls things down. I experienced several gleeful fantasies involving the deaths of those youngsters, but I think slaying obnoxious children on an airplane is at least a misdemeanor.

But there was a third child! A black boy, about the same age (I guessed) as the Satanic Spawns, but he did not scream or kick my seat, he merely wandered the plane, aimlessly, cavorting down the aisles with exuberant glee. To be fair, he spent the majority of his time at the back of the plane near the bathrooms. We discovered that his father was the lanky fellow next to me, and there was a two or three hour period where that bloke was simply not in his seat. I later found that he was in the back of the plane with his son during that time. While his repetitious tours of the plane did not elicit threats of bodily harm from me, it was annoying nonetheless.

The evil whore in front of me, however, caused me physical pain. British Airways features seats that retract a generous amount, and when the person in front of you has their seat back all the way, you basically have to retract yours as well or else risk a forehead injury. So I had to put my seat all the way back, but here’s where the problems start: Despite being able to retract impressively, the seats on a British Airways plane are not the most ergonomically designed things you’ll ever sit on. They encourage a C-curve in the lower back, not a neutral curve, so those of us with back pain are in for a world of hurt. Even sitting straight up doesn’t totally solve the problem, but laying back aggravates it tenfold. This was worrying because, supposedly, that spinal injection I got two months ago should have eased all pain in that region. I can think of only two reasons why the pain was not only present, but intense: I either made my L5-S1 disk protrude again (by being in that position for 9.5 hours), or another disk collapsed. Lilith slept the whole time, though, like a baby, while I squirmed and writhed in agony.

And then you had the old people. The vast majority of the people flying from Heathrow to Seattle yesterday were obese, aged, or in many cases both. This particular group spent most of its time hulking from their seats to the bathroom and back. It would have been more prudent to simply book seats in the bathrooms. Like the black kid, these instances rarely caused my blood pressure to boil, but were simply indicative of a flight that was completely without calm or stillness.

Matters were not helped by inconvenient facts such as these: I: The plane was fifty (50) minutes late to take-off, meaning that our trip to the connecting flight in Seattle was a hasty one. II: Old people are constantly coughing, wheezing, snoring, snotting, and making noises one does not often associate with our species. As of such, I was in constant fear of infection. III: The sharpness of the movies on the seatback screens are worse than my iPod. IV: The water is heavily chlorinated on British Airways flights, so much so that you can practically taste the deep end. V: They give you free food on British Airways, but it’s still airplane food. That might be chicken, but it might also be turkey stuffing. I remember now why I don’t pine for the days where I was given a “meal” on American flights.

The flight back from Seattle was much more enjoyable. Because I wasn’t stuck behind some bitch who wouldn’t put her seat up, I was able to get into my laptop bag and sneak my iPod out to watch “Forgetting Sarah Marshall.” Interestingly, I noted with some disappointment that the iTunes version of the film removes breasts but not wangs (go figure). By the time the movie ended and I had listened to a few songs, we were home free. And now we ARE home, I’m back on my routine, and everything’s hunky-dory!