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  • 06:14:12: You can tell I'm up for insomnia not for the day, though on a workday I'd be showering now, because I catch up on Twitter but not email.
  • 06:18:36: It's Hugo ceremony time in Australia right now. I dunno the nominations for drama, only categories I'll've seen any. To the batgooogle!
  • 06:24:36: The Wikipedia page for short form drama Hugos already shows Waters of Mars as this year's winner. Long form page isn't updated.
  • 07:04:40: Going back to bed without knowing the Long Form winner (though @howardtayler has twitted congratulations to the Foglios for Graphic Novel).
  • 07:06:11: @howardtayler I remember that Phil doesn't drink alcohol either. For what it's worth.
  • 08:55:07: Moon took the Long Form Drama Hugo. I'd've voted for Star Trek, but my flists say Moon was excellent so I'm not surprised.
  • 08:57:11: Woulda been nice to have my two favorites win in each category one year. Well, there'll be other years.
  • 09:08:50: Reading the 1st line in the 7th panel of today's #SchlockMercenary, I thought I'd laugh more than at the punchline. I was wrong. #webcomics
  • 19:58:43: #AKOTAS updated: mouths of babes II. http://tinyurl.com/akotas/2300.htm #webcomics #kingarthur
  • 20:19:54: Disney's Pocahontas with the neighbor kids. John Smith sees her and I mutter, "Forget about those, they ain't nothing but trouble." #baloo

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scarfman: (me)

Today for an LJ comment I happened to have cause to run down the links for the two (that I know of) instances when I've been referenced at Something Awful On The Web, and I decided I need to preserve the links in my own journal.

Edit 3/1/10 Aaand in February's top ten referrals I find that I've been linked to from PortalOfEvil.com! Thanks for the traffic, evil.

scarfman: (me)

I've mentioned in this space that I was once [livejournal.com profile] philfoglio's roommate. Right now Phil and Kaja are serializing Phil's 80s Buck Godot stories, featuring a character based on someone we knew in our Moebius Theatre days. John Buckley was a big Irish cop with a big Irish mustache and Buck Godot is an accurate portrayal of his manner and language usage. Phil actually put people he knew into his professional work fairly often in cameo bits (though if there're any of me I've forgotten). One day during our cohabitation (Don't look at me like that. Phil's girlfirend lived with us too.) while Phil was working on the story Psmith (currently being serialized), one of my roommates from the place I'd lived previously complained of never receiving the same treatment, and was indulged, in, for instance, the last two panels of this page. Prodded by this reminder I googled julia dewey to see whether she'd come up. Today I learned that a former roommate (Don't look at me like that. Julia's fiance lived with us too.) is now Julia Dewey Rupkalvis Dye, Ph.D. and has an IMDB entry.

Bio byte

Mar. 6th, 2006 11:37 am
scarfman: (me)

In the mid-80s I once roomed with [livejournal.com profile] philfoglio for a year or so. One day I went down to the building's basement to the storage locker for our apartment. There were a bunch of people into one of the other storage lockers at the time, so I didn't have to myself unlock the padlock on the basement door. They seemed to have finished up while I was in my locker. When I came out of my storage locker, the first thing I noticed was that all the lights were out. It wasn't pitch black, but the lights were out. I believe I made the mental journey from "the lights are out" to "the door out must now have a padlock on the other side of it" in less time than it took me to make the journey from my storage locker to the door. Sure enough, I was locked in.

Phil wasn't home at the time, which was late morning or midday on a Saturday. But we were hosting a Moebius Theatre rehearsal that evening, so I knew he'd be home at the latest in time for that. And the building's fusebox was in the basement. If I wasn't out of there by nineteen hundred I could turn off my apartment's power and draw attention to the basement. Having deduced that I was going to miss no more than one meal, I set about getting myself out.

The padlock hinge was bolted to the door. I don't remember the arrangement clearly but it was such that I decided, if I could unscrew the nuts on this side of the door, I could get out. Or maybe it was the door's hinges I needed to remove. Anyway, muttering to myself, "Right for tight, left for loose" (unlike Arthur Dent, I listened what my mother told me when I was young), I set about removing the bolt nuts.

At one point while I was working, I heard someone coming down the back stairs (there may have been a parking lot in the back of the building; I wouldn't remember since neither Phil nor I had a car). All I had to do to be released was to call out to the other resident as he or she passed by. But I didn't. I wanted too badly to see whether I could get myself out of this by myself.

(Or maybe I was embarrasssed. Whatever.)

The last of the bolt nuts was jammed, or the threads stripped or something, and the bolt itself was mangled so it was hard to get a grip on. I had to hunt up something to try to get a grip on it, I don't remember what. It was while I was occupied with that last bolt - and resigning myself to missing that meal - that I heard a guy call from the other side of the door, "Who's there?"

Not being acquainted with my neighbors or vice versa, I answered with my apartment number.

The neighbor got me out. Later, talking to a Moebian arriving for rehearsal, he said, "He was so calm!" [livejournal.com profile] billroper's response to hearing the story was, "I hope I'm never stranded on a desert island with Paul. When the helicopter flies over and drops the rope ladder, Paul will wave them off and say, 'No thanks, I want to see if I can get myself out of it!'"

scarfman: (Default)

Since I've been doing more blogging than I expected (yes, really), I suppose an introductory post comprised of bits of biography is in order.

By day I'm a mild-mannered staff assistant for a major Jesuit university school of nursing. In real life I'm a student of the screen adventure hero as the contemporary manifestation of the fireside folklore hero of all of human history up till now. I have a wife, a grown stepdaughter, a grown stepson, a stepdaughter-in-law, a stepgrandson, and a step-stepgrandson.

In 1971 I got hooked on Star Trek twenty minutes before my mother did. She went on to write the story that appeared first in the first New Voyages collection. She also wrote the mainstream novel Bernadette Black which, when I first read it during my youth spent aspiring to a screen acting career, prompted me to phone her and tell her I'd make a movie of it someday. In the late 80s when she completed her magnum opus cycle of Star Trek stories, I had an Amiga 500 and an animation program, and I did make a movie of that.

In the early 70s [livejournal.com profile] philfoglio's Star Trek fanzine work was among the formative influences on my cartoons. In the middle 80s I became Phil's roommate while we both were writers and performers for the sf comedy troupe Moebius Theatre. In the late 80s I married a woman whose first husband had also been an ex-roommate of Phil. We celebrated eighteen years last October, however, so Kaja is S.O.L.

In 1975 a tornado destroyed my junior high school. At the end of a string of related events, I started drawing a cartoon every day in April 1976. Though I continued to aspire to screen acting for five or ten more years, part of my motivation at the time was, "If I were to become a syndicated cartoonist, this will have been good practice." The result was I've drawn a cartoon a day since 1976 (with the occasional hiatus).

All I've really wanted since I was sixteen was to draw a cartoon every day and have it read by people all over the world.

I have that now.

I. Have. All I ever really wanted.

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