homeaboutarchivescommentscontacteverything

Free rides

Metro Transit is the bus system here. It runs in and around Seattle, all over King County, with reasonably reliable service. You can take Metro to most places that aren't farmland.

 

You're supposed to pay to ride, but being a big city, Seattle has thousands of bums, and they never pay. They simply step aboard and sit down. Few drivers bother hassling the homeless or panhandlers over a few dollars, nor should then. When a driver is dumb enough to press the point, which is rarely, the bums simply shrug and step off, and get onto the next bus.

Functionally, then, Metro Transit provides a free and efficient bum delivery service. Vagrants, addicts, drunks, and the very, very poor can easily ride anywhere in the metroplex, at no charge. People who aren't bums are allowed to ride along, for $2.75.

I'm not a bum-hater, and to me it's not at all a problem that the county provides free bum delivery. That's a good thing! The problem is that ordinary people have to pay.

Screw that. Transit needs to be free for everyone, same as libraries, parks, streets and sidewalks, police and fire, etc. Even COVID and flu shots are free, so why are people expected to pay $2.75 to get around town? None of those other publicly-funded services require a fee when you walk in.

I am a cheapskate, but that's not why I argue for free transit. Everyone getting everywhere by sitting in their personal few-thousand-pounds of metal and glass is simply not sustainable.

Trains and buses reduce traffic on the street, and reduce the effects of pollution and climate change, so we need to get people to ride public transit. Make it free, and you'll get more people out of their cars. 

That's the carrot. The stick is, a county-wide tax of $50 per private motor vehicle — this year, and then the tax goes up by $50 per private vehicle, every year. All funds raised go directly to funding and improving public transit.

In the rapidly-approaching future when gas pumps have run dry, supply chains are permanently disrupted, and climate change has given us cyclical droughts and floods, new diseases, and crippling economic ruin, a city might survive, if people can easily get around without cars. We'd better get started.

Yes, it's a rerun. I've made this argument before, maybe even recently. I will bang the drum loudly, probably again, and probably soon.

11/27/2022    

 itsdougholland.com
← PREVIOUS           NEXT →

I'd rather be alone.

CRANKY
OLD FART

#238

leftovers
& links

 
Sunday,
Nov. 27, 2022

I am lactose-intolerant. If I have even a single yogurt or glass of milk, I'll be farty in a few hours. If I have lots of dairy — a large helping of ice cream, say — I'll be farty all night long, some of the farts might be sharts, and my poop will be lumpy and float.

Yesterday, I had too much ice cream, but it was lactose-free ice cream, or so said the label. My intestines and anus disagree. Either my Kroger-branded lactose-free cherry cordial ice cream had all the lactose and none of the lactose-free, or I've become lactose-free-intolerant.

Dean's day-after-Thanksgiving dinner was fine, I guess. Oddly, for a guy who brags endlessly about what a great cook he is, what tasted best by far was the store-bought and microwaved mashed potatoes. Other than that it was roast beef and fancy green beans (kinda blah). One bite of the beef tasted wrong to me, and I discreetly spat it out. The rest of it tasted OK.

The conversation was as blah as the beans. Dean told us about his long career as a chef, and about how ruined his home town has become. Robert talked about football and World of Warcraft. I participated, slightly and uncomfortably.

I respect Dean's Thanksgiving gesture, and I've had worse meals and worse flatmates. I like Robert, and I'm getting used to Dean, and of course I'm too damned snarky when I write about them.

But I'm not good with people, and tired of trying. It was all conversation we've had before, and little of it was of interest. I would've rather been alone in my room, in my recliner, watching an old movie, or farting around on the internet like I'm doing right now.

Here's the news you need,
whether you know it or not

Biden Administration lifts sanction against Venezuelan oil drilling allowing Chevron to import oil to US 

Change the rules to benefit one corporation that's bigger than you can imagine, over other corporations also bigger than you can imagine, in order to drain the world's limited oil supply a few months faster, which maybe, if it's OK with Chevron and the rest of the cartel, might lower gas prices in America by 1½¢ per gallon. 

Rich nations have promised to pay for the climate crisis – but will they? 

Of course not. What a stupid question.

What can Democrats push through Congress in the lame-duck session? 

It's pointless to ask what Democrats can or could push through Congress before the Republicans' circus begins in January. Most Dems in Congress are content with the status quo, so what they will push through is jack, and shit.

Fears for all Ukraine's nuclear plants after emergency shutdowns 

Greta Thunberg sues her native Sweden for failing on climate 

US federal judge denies 19-year-old's request to attend her father’s execution 

Study: Climate change is increasing the frequency and temperature of extreme heat waves 

And it never stops, never stops...

"Officer shuffle": Some ousted cops find jobs at new departments in Massachusetts 

And it never stops, never stops, never stops, never stops, never stops, never stops, never stops, never stops, never stops, never stops...

What it's like to be the child of a January 6 insurrectionist 

And it never stops, never stops, never stops...

Links I liked

We are living in Robert Bork's America

Everything you wanted to know about pronouns (but were afraid to ask) 

Fanta was created for Nazi Germany 

Unaired pilots 

Earthquakes 

Mystery links
"Like life itself, there's no
knowing where you're going"

click 

click 

click 

♫♬  Mix tape of my mind  ♫

• "Crimson and Clover" by Joan Jett 

• "God Must Be Doing Cocaine" by Charlotte Lawrence 

• "Mad Shirt Grinder" by Quicksilver 

• "Red Right Hand" by Nick Cave 

• "Veneno" by Chuy Flores 

The End

Michael Pertschuk 

Bao Tong

11/27/2022  

Cranky Old Fart is annoyed and complains and very occasionally offers a kindness, along with anything off the internet that's made me smile or snarl. All opinions fresh from my ass. Top illustration by Jeff Meyer. Click any image to enlarge. Comments & conversations invited.
 
Tip 'o the hat to Linden Arden, ye olde AVA, BoingBoing, Breakfast at Ralf's, Captain Hampockets, CaptCreate's Log, John the Basket, LiarTownUSA, Meme City, National Zero, Ran Prieur, Voenix Rising, and anyone else whose work I've stolen without saying thanks.
 
Extra special thanks to Becky Jo, Name Withheld, Dave S, Wynn Bruce, and always Stephanie...

The Parallax View, and six more movies

THE
NEVERENDING
FILM FESTIVAL

#112


Saturday,
Nov. 26, 2022


Ready for another trip to The Recliner Cinema?

Today it's a parody of mid-20th Century America, two cop/buddy bombs (one of which is pretty good), a conspiracy cover-up, a sci-fi that foregoes any human side, bad dreams of Freddy Krueger, and the return of the Star Ship Enterprise.

A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)
Collision Course (1989)
Last Action Hero (1993)
Little Murders (1971)
The Parallax View (1974)
Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982)
Strange New World (1975)

Same as last time, five out of seven are worth watching — can I pick 'em, or what? 

There's no BIG YES, but A Nightmare on Elm Street and The Parallax View both come close.

— — —

A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)

A high school girl has nightmares of a man with knives for fingernails, chasing her in her sleep and when she's awake.

It's a simple idea, turned into a classic of horror: What if your dreams and reality became blurred together, and you sometimes weren't sure whether you were in one or the other?

Written and directed by Wes Craven, this is his most famous and best film. John Saxon plays Daddy, and he's also a cop, but the killer in his daughter's dreams is beyond his jurisdiction.

The girl is Heather Langenkamp, and the movie must've indelibly typecast her — I've never seen her in anything else. She's just right here, though.

"Who do you think you are, whoever you are?"

A deep dark secret in Mom & Dad's past motivates the monster, who is, of course, the now-famous Freddy Kreuger.

The backstory makes Kreuger a perfect right-wing boogeyman: "He was a filthy child murderer who killed at least twenty kids in the neighborhood… The lawyers got fat and the judge got famous, but somebody forgot to sign the search warrant in the right place, and Krueger was free, just like that."

The movie isn't at all political, but I'm going to point out the obvious: No killer of twenty kids has ever gotten off on a technicality.

Heather battles the monster ingeniously — think Home Alone — and Freddy makes some funny noises as she injures him, but there's no silliness here. It's a scary movie, and you will be scared.

Screw all the sequels and knockoffs; this is the real thing — the monster movie of your nightmares. 

Verdict: YES.

♦ ♦ ♦  

Collision Course (1989)

Collision Course is a clumsy and uninteresting buddy-cop flick, starring Jay Leno and Pat Morita. Leno is famous for his love of cars, so this role must've been written for him — he drives several, there's a shootout at an auto repair shop, and some dull NASCAR action.

Leno's presence is the only clue that this might be a comedy, but same as when he hosted The Tonight Show, there are no laughs.

Verdict: BIG NO.

♦ ♦ ♦ 

Last Action Hero (1993)

This was Arnold Schwarzenegger's first flop, but when I saw it way back when at the New Mission Theater in San Francisco, I liked it.

The New Mission was an old-time movie palace, then in negligent disrepair but since revitalized as Alamo Drafthouse's San Francisco flagship. It was the perfect venue for this, because Last Action Hero is largely set in a faded movie palace just like it.

The movie is an unusual mash-up and send-up of action clichés, co-starring Death from The Seventh Seal. It's way too weird for middle America, which is why it fizzled at the ticket booth, but I remembered it as clever and enjoyable. Was I mistaken?

Nope. It's a huge, expensive movie, but it's fun.

The opening scene has a hundred cop cars parked all around an elementary school where there's a hostage situation. Here comes tough cop Jack Slater (Schwarzenegger, of course), breaking all the rules and disobeying his boss.

It turns out that we're watching another movie in the fictional Jack Slater franchise, and a little kid has been assigned to be supercop Schwarzenegger's new partner. When he's not riding with Arnold, the kid is a big movie buff who's weirdly been befriended by movie palace projectionist Robert Prosky, who has a magic ticket that was given to him by Houdini.

The ticket plops the kid inside Schwarzenegger's next movie, and there are other shenanigans, child endangerment, and switching between movie reality and real reality.

It plays with every movie trope, and nine out of ten jokes fall flat, but that still leaves plenty that are amusing. If you've seen some action movies, it definitely works as a parody. I'm not sure it works as an action movie, since it's all wrapped up around itself and you can't really know what's going on, or at least I rarely did.

Unlike most movie kids in starring roles, the child actor here — Austin O'Brien — is only sometimes annoying.

Prosky's movie palace is great to see, and there are lots of playful cameos from big stars of the '90s. The movie doesn't add up to much, but most action movies don't, and this one's a laugh, or several.

Verdict: YES.

♦ ♦ ♦  

Little Murders (1971)

I knew Jules Feiffer was a writer too, but to me he's mostly a guy who draws funny comics — one-liners, funny or satirical.

He wrote this, and it's full of wry observations. Almost every scene could've been a Feiffer strip or panel, but can a thousand comic strips strung together be anything but tiresome?

Oh, yeah. It adds up to an unusual, exaggerated but oddly real comedy that takes swipes at family, romance, marriage, and fear of crime in the big city in the 1970s.

Elliott Gould plays Alfred, who's the opposite of most characters Gould played. He's not merely a pacifist, he's a self-described 'apathist' who doesn't care about anything.

In the opening scene, I thought I'd hate him — he's being beaten up by a gang of street kids, and when a stranger named Patsy (Marcia Rodd) comes to his rescue, he sneaks away, leaving her to be attacked by the gang. She escapes, chases him down to tell him what a cad he is, and of course Alfred and Patsy fall in love. 

"There's no way of talking someone out of beating you up if that's what he wants to do," so Alfred routinely lets people beat him up. He's always bruised and bloodied. "There's a lot of little people who like to start fights with big people. They, uh, hit me. Hit, and they see I'm not going to fall down. They get tired and they go away. It's hardly worth talking about." 

He's an apathist, indeed, so Alfred doesn't want to do much, but Patsy sets about to rehabilitate him, taking him bowling and dancing. She'd take him to bed, but he's too apathetic to be interested. Pretty soon she takes him to meet her parents, and her very strange younger brother, for dinner during an intermittent electricity blackout.

As for Patsy, she says, "Alfred's the only man I know who isn't waiting for me to save him. You know how that makes me feel? God help me, I've got to save him." And later she explains, "I married you because I wanted to mold you. I love the man I wanted to mold you into… I don't want to hurt you, I want to change you."

Through all these funny moments, the story accumulates unexpected heft, as the dialogue and situations reveal more about Alfred and Patsy.

A long-haired Donald Sutherland is the minister from First Existential Church, and he's supposed to perform their marriage ceremony. His scene is a hoot, as he gets so wrapped up in his daffy wedding speech that he seems to forget the part about now pronouncing you man and wife.

Director Alan Arkin gives himself a brief but funny cameo as a detective who specializes in leaving murders unsolved. Based on a play, the movie is kinda theatrical — it feels alive, more than filmed, willing to take chances, and with lots of little moments that feel very Feiffer. 

Verdict: YES.

♦ ♦ ♦  

The Parallax View (1974)

High atop Seattle's famous Space Needle, there's a fancy restaurant where a Senator gets shot and killed. Then we fast-forward to the findings of a Senate investigation, concluding that the killer was a lone gunman, and that "there is no evidence of any wider conspiracy. No evidence whatsoever." 

Warren Beatty is a reporter who's convinced himself it couldn't have been a conspiracy, until his ex-girlfriend (they both witnessed the assassination) says she fears for her life. And she should; 6 of the 18 witnesses have already died.

Beatty doesn't believe her, though, until she's dead too. And with that, the mystery is afoot in this very enjoyable and occasionally terrifying paranoid thriller.

There are several fabulous and unforgettable set pieces — the murder and follow-up fight atop the Space Needle, a comical but splendidly-staged bar fight, a great battle under a dam, a killer per-employment psych screening, and the movie's entire last twenty minutes.

Beatty was never flashy on screen, and never one of my favorite actors, and he's his usual presence here. When he first walked into this movie, though, I realized that I've miss him. 

Also it must be said, the music is excellent, by someone I'd never heard of — Michael Small. It's sparse and minimal, with repeated teasing before very briefly a melody, and then back to the teasing, and finally, finally the big dramatic theme. The music would have you on the edge of your seat, even if there wasn't a great drama to hang it on (but there definitely is).

One problem, though. For a political thriller, it's oddly apolitical. There's never any mention of political issues, and the script puts awkward extra effort into making sure we never know whether the elected officials portrayed are Democrats, Republicans, or Whigs. That's a mistake, I think — in those moments when politics should be mentioned, the story feels a bit fake and generic.

Screenplay co-written by Lorenzo Semple Jr. (Three Days of the Condor, and 14 episodes of the 1960s Batman). Directed by Alan J. Pakula, whose name ought to be enough to recommend the film. He made some greats, including Klute, All the President's Men, Sophie's Choice — and The Parallax View.

Verdict: YES.

♦ ♦ ♦  

Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan (1982)

The original Star Trek TV show was one of very few where the pilot episode didn't sell the series, but the network funded a second pilot to try, try again.

"Too intellectual," NBC said of the first pilot, The Cage, "but we like the concept. Can you make it less thoughtful, with more action?" The second pilot, Where No Man Has Gone Before, was smart, too, but less highbrow, and the network bought the show.

(Incidentally, the person who fought hardest to have a second pilot made was Lucille Ball, co-owner of Desilu, the studio which owned the rights. She liked the Star Trek concept, and she was also, of course, the biggest star on TV — even her '60s The Lucy Show was in the top ten. She used her clout to convince the network, and it's fair to say that Star Trek wouldn't have made it onto TV without Lucy.)

Star Trek at the movies had similar problems. The first film drew big crowds of Trekkies, but not enough non-hardcore fans, so it wasn't the box office hit that Paramount had hoped. This second film was in limbo for almost a year before being greenlit at a greatly reduced budget, and the studio wanted more action, less heavy thinking, and lots less involvement by series creator Gene Roddenberry.

They got what they wanted, and like the second TV pilot, the second theatrical movie is a very good blend of action and science fiction. Lots of people still say it's the best of the movies. I pull more toward Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, but it's close.

"I have been and always shall be your friend."

Ricardo Montalban reprises Khan, the eugenics-created genius from the so-so original episode "Space Seed," and he wants vengeance against Kirk. This is a sequel to that episode, more than to the first movie, but you need not have seen either.

Khan kills a bunch of people, and steals The Genesis Device, new tech that's supposed to create life from lifelessness, but could also be a genocidal weapon.

Written by committee but directed by Nicolas Meyer from the marvelous Time After Time, there's no denying that the story works better and has far fewer boring bits than the first movie.

It also has brain-eating bugs, a great starship shootout, and Montalban quoting Moby Dick, out-hamming Easter dinner. The interplay between Kirk, Spock, and McCoy has never been better, and "introducing Kirstie Alley as Saavik" is quite good as a Vulcan space cadet.

40 years after it was made, you probably know how this movie ends. They even talked about it on Seinfeld, but I won't talk about it here, except to say that it works splendidly. I do wish they'd spent a few thousand dollars on a better set for that climactic scene, instead of plain plexiglass doors and walls that wobble when touched.

Every element seems well thought-out, and William Shatner delivers his infamous "Khan!" scream. It's a good story, albeit sorta CSI: Outer Space, and the action the studio wanted? It never lags. 

Verdict: YES.

♦ ♦ ♦ 

Strange New World (1975)

From the corny dramatic music and fade-outs every twelve minutes, this was obviously made for television. It does not transcend the medium.

John Saxon stars, playing an astronaut in a red toga for unexplained reasons, who was in suspended animation for 180 years. When he gets back, virtually all people on Earth are dead, but James Olson (from 2001: A Space Odyssey) leads an underground society of genetically modified sorta-humans.

What's wrong here is everything. The movie is almost entirely comprised of people talking about their complicated sci-fi situation — surgeries, blood drips, temporary mental regression, decontamination shields, and should a woman be put to death because she's suspected of telling too much to the wrong people? Very nearly no time or dialogue is spent on the characters voicing all this gobbledygook, so with (barely) the exception of Saxon, everyone on-screen is just another walking plot device. There's nobody to give a damn about.

Verdict: BIG NO.

— — —

Coming attractions: 

• The Bill & Ted trilogy (1989, 1992, 2020)
Captain EO (1986)
Frankenstein Meets the Spacemonster (1965)
Future-Kill (1985)
Holy Motors (2012)
Pee-wee's Big Adventure (1985)
We Are the Best! (2013)

11/26/2022   

There are so many good movies out there — old movies, odd or artsy, foreign or forgotten movies, or do-it-yourself movies made just for the joy of making them — that if you only watch whatever's on Netflix or playing at the twentyplex, you're missing out.

— — —

Find a movie
DVDpublic librarystreaming

If you can't find a movie I've reviewed,
or if you have any recommendations,
please drop me a note
 
— — —
 
Top illustration by Jeff Meyer. No talking once the lights dim. Real butter, not that fake crap, on the popcorn. I try to make these reviews spoiler-free, but sometimes screw up, sorry. Piracy is not a victimless crime. Click any image to enlarge. Comments & conversations invited.   

 

Being a woman

On a bus ride, a COVID-masked young woman sat opposite me in one of the sideways seats, holding her keys in her hand, but keys out, not keys in. That's a defense strategy. If she punches you, you get keys on the face, not a fist. This was just an ordinary bus ride, though, with no particular danger. 

Maybe she'd heard the heavily-hyped stories of how frightful the bus can be, and the city. Crime lurks behind every shadow, we're told. I've peered into the shadows, and most shadows are just shadows.

Maybe she's new in town, or new to the bus. Maybe she's been hassled or attacked by a man, or men. Maybe she hasn't, but she knows women who have. 

Between the keys on her chain, a small pink canister dangled — mace or pepper spray. She had a purse over her shoulder, but carried the keys and mace in her hand, even on the bus.

♦ ♦ ♦ 

Since moving back to Seattle in April, the most dangerous thing I've seen on the bus was some man verbally harassing a youngish girl. She said something loud to him, "Leave me alone, ya perv!" or something like that, and the driver heard, put a stop to it almost instantly, and kicked the jackass off.

That's as it should be, but sometimes the driver isn't aware, or doesn't say anything. That's why this woman opposite be had keys poking out from between her fingers, and mace hanging below, easily accessible.

Other than that once, the only crime I've seen on the bus in Seattle is an occasional passenger smoking fentanyl. Oh, and a man masturbating a few weeks ago, but he covered up when I laughed.

When I lived in San Francisco, there were a few fist fights on the buses, and once some bum punched me. Considering how often I ride transit, though, the bus feels pretty safe.

Here's the catch, though — the bus seems safe to me, because I'm a man, and a big man at that. It's different for smaller people, and especially for women. 

Earth is a shitty world, some men are shitty creatures, so women need to carry mace, keep their eyes always open and keys between their fingers. Women have to be aware, everywhere they go. Jeez, that must get tiresome.

♦ ♦ ♦ 

This wasn't the same bus or the same day, but it's the same moral to the same story. A woman rang the bell to get off at the next stop, and it was the diner's intersection, so I stood up to get off, too.

We both stepped out through the bus's back door, and she walked straight ahead, toward the front door to a dentist's office. I turned right, walked down the sidewalk toward the diner.

When I reached the crosswalk and pushed the button for a 'walk' sign, that same woman from the bus was twenty steps behind me on the sidewalk.

So... she didn't have an appointment with the dentist. She'd walked toward the dentist's office as a safety strategy, for protection from a man off the bus — me.

I'm harmless, but she couldn’t know that. I'd given that woman next to no thought, and wouldn't have even known it was the same woman, except that she was wearing a very distinctive neon-striped jacket.

She had to consider me a threat, though. That's reality. It's dangerous if she doesn't consider every man a threat. How fucked up is that? Only as fucked up as reality.

So we crossed the street together, but she stayed about 15 feet away.

11/26/2022   

itsdougholland.com
← PREVIOUS           NEXT →

Flatmates' Thanksgiving

All I wanted was some damned toast for breakfast. I stepped into an empty kitchen this morning, and it felt safe. My flatmate Dean usually turns the rock'n'roll on as soon as he's awake, but no music was coming from his room, so I put four slices of wheat into the toaster.

CRANKY
OLD FART

#237

leftovers
& links

 
Friday,
Nov. 25, 2022

While the bread browned, Robert came out of his room and we traded a few sentences about our respective Thanksgivings yesterday. At the sound of people talking, of course, Dean poked his head out of his room.

Almost immediately, Dean asked what we were each doing at around 6:00 tonight, because he wants to cook a dinner for us. "It's what I do," he said, which is something he often says.

My toast was cold before I'd escaped the kitchen, and saying no was politically not an option, so I'm stuck at my second consecutive Thanksgiving dinner tonight at 6:00. You have to be a little sociable with flatmates, I think, and this will pay my dues for several weeks.

The obligation awaits me in an hour, and I do seriously hate obligations. Most people, I think, would enjoy a free dinner, but a day alone is a good day for me. I hate being sociable, and I'm looking forward to this flatmates' Thanksgiving being over.

Now, the news you need,
whether you know it or not

Days after deadly shooting at LGBTQ club, Twitter bans group that protects LGBTQ 

Google is ordered to remove pirate site domains from US search results 

Airlines push for lone pilot flights to cut costs despite safety fears 

U.S. bird flu outbreak worst on record with 50 million dead birds 

Abandoned Greek airport to be transformed into a 600-acre coastal park 

Court orders US Navy to pay $154,400 in software piracy damages 

Over 20,000 died in western Europe’s summer heatwaves, figures show 

And it never stops, never stops, never stops, never stops...

As police arrest more seniors, those with dementia face deadly consequences 

And it never stops, never stops, never stops, never stops, never stops, never stops, never stops, never stops, never stops, never stops, never stops, never stops, never stops, never stops...

The massacre at Club Q didn’t happen in a vacuum. There has been a dangerous escalation in hateful anti-LGBT rhetoric. 

And it never stops, never stops, never stops... 

Links I liked

The Supreme Court case that protected flag burning 

Decline of key changes in popular music 

Brussels sprouts have been genetically engineered to taste better 

The story Octavia Butler lived 

Polar Bear Jail 

Love dart 

Mystery links
"Like life itself, there's no
knowing where you're going"

click 

click 

click 

♫♬  Mix tape of my mind  ♫

• "All Who Pass" by Shaolin Afronauts 

• "Pee-wee's Big Adventure" by Danny Elfman

The End 

George Lois 

Kevin O'Neill 

Ned Rorem

11/25/2022   

Cranky Old Fart is annoyed and complains and very occasionally offers a kindness, along with anything off the internet that's made me smile or snarl. All opinions fresh from my ass. Top illustration by Jeff Meyer. Click any image to enlarge. Comments & conversations invited.  

Tip 'o the hat to Linden Arden, ye olde AVA, BoingBoing, Breakfast at Ralf's, Captain Hampockets, CaptCreate's Log, John the Basket, LiarTownUSA, Meme City, National Zero, Ran Prieur, Voenix Rising, and anyone else whose work I've stolen without saying thanks.

Extra special thanks to Becky Jo, Name Withheld, Dave S, Wynn Bruce, and always Stephanie...