Decadence!, Doom Comic Books, The Horror of Ice Cream Men

I have been a bit bored lately. I am on vacation from school, back home in Sacramento. There are no jobs. There have never been many jobs for young idiots in Sacramento, and with the onset of the recession, there is exactly nothing for me to do but update my Twitter feed, over and over again. I am also getting back into drawing comics with somewhat limited success.

In my days of sloth and langour, I have done some good reading. I fell in love with Isak Denison's beautiful "Out of Africa," one of the most incredible odes to the wild lands (as they once were) that I've read. This is Kenya before the safari parks and the Disney tie-ins, the place where a Danish society lady could run a coffee farm and shoot lions in her free-time. It's a mode of lost-Eden travel writing that really cannot be pulled off anymore (we've taken apart all the Ngong Hills she once roamed in, have implemented lawsuits). A must-read.

Am also slicing and dicing my way through a large quantity of Roman history. To those pessimistic, the similarities between their history and our own - a fall into decadence, a spread-out empire, et all - can be distressing. But I like to think I am no pessimist.

Linking.

Doom: The Comic Book!



The most epically horrible comic book in the Universe. "You are huge! That means you have huge guts!" (A very old link, but I have been going through my million year old livejournals of late and revisiting old funny crap. I suppose it is the modern equivalent of combing through one's sparkly middle school journals). What deranged soul wrote this. What deranged soul wrote this so I can be their bestest friend.



Speaking of old stuff: remember the Horrible History books? They were my most beloved Scholastic book club purchase. The cartoons and funny writing about the squashier aspects of history inspire me to this day. Perverse and sick. And British. Go figure.

New York Parents Battle the Dark Scourge of the Ice Cream Man



A band of distressed New York parents conspire to prevent odious ice-cream pushers from selling their heinous and melty wares nearby playgrounds. I so dearly wish I was making this up. (DECADENCE! DECADENCE! AUGUSTUS SHAKES HIS FIST AT YOU ACROSS THE ERAS!) Did Roman kids have their parents carefully monitor every olive and hot-roasted dormouse they put in their lovely little mouthes?

Ever since Katherine had an inconsolable meltdown about not being able to have a treat, Ms. Sell has been trying to have unlicensed vendors ousted from the park. She has repeatedly called the city’s 311 complaint hot line, joining parents nationwide who can’t stand the icy man or his motorized big brother, the ice cream man.“I fall into the camp of parents who are irate,” Ms. Sell said. She has equal disdain for Mister Softee and the ice cream pop vendor outside the park, but since they are licensed, there is not much she can do about them.


Historic Tale Construction Kit
The Historic Tale Construction Kit, one of the internet's most briliantly shining treasures. Check out the brilliant Something Awful competition for these of old.

Indian Dating Service for Dogs
Speaking of decadence, India now has a dating service for dogs. Really. (I suppose Nero DID make his horse a senator. YOU SEE)