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KICK ASS KOMIKS

"Chief Edwards retires from the Modesto Police Department a lonely man. On his way home he hits a flying whale with his car, opening the beast's mouth to find a boy from a parallel universe named Jacobus. Chief discovers that a society of insect monsters want to kill this boy due to a mysterious virus that grows on his hand. The Chief becomes a father figure to the boy and trains him how to survive insect monsters by becoming a great American ass-kicker."

Isn't that just the funkiest comic book synopsis you've ever read?
(well, maybe some of Grant Morrison's books are funkier)

The synopsis above is for EARTHBOY JACOBOS, a graphic novel by Doug Tennapel, coming out from Image Comics this May.

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Pretty Pics, Astig Art


http://www.kaareandrews.com/




http://jamesjean.com/

Best Mobile Messaging Service: Globe Telecom, Inc. (Philippines), G-Cash is a breakthrough in m-commerce, transforming subscribers’ phones into “mobile wallets”.

The picture that came out in the Inquirer today was taken with a Globe phone and sent via MMS. (Another great thing made possible by Globe.)

New Sites to See




http://www.phlog.net/ has got a new look and new features! Check it out if you still don't have a Phlog account.





http://baylans.blogspot.com/ a blog novel in progress in now online. Chapter 1 has been uploaded.
The revolution will be online!




http://www.kabayancentral.com/onlyindphil/lastikman.html is where you can buy Lastikman online.

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A Personal Thing
© 2001 Neil Gaiman and Graham K. Smith

Tracing your face in the way it all started
Eyes like assassins, we cried when we parted
Shimmy and slip like the mists of December
I close my eyes and I try to remember

Now I need you here like a kite needs a string
I need you more than I need anything
I want you back but I'm too proud to say it out loud
It's a personal thing

Starlight and moonlight and madness and heaven
You made me all that I am: you're forgiven
The touch of your hand or the feel of your finger
Memories cut through my heart and they linger on...

I need you here like a bird needs to sing
I need you more than I need anything
I want you back but I'm too proud to say it out loud
It's a personal thing

Every cold mile between us is painful
All of the words we could never unsay in full
Moments are magical, pain universal
Frozen like ice and it's just too damn personal

I need you here like a dream needs a wing
I need you more than I need anything
I want you back but I'm too proud to say it out loud
It's a personal thing


Another song from the Flashgirls. Supposedly sung by a ghost who still haunts the house of his/her lover.

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a bad b-movie plot

So what was that all about? What was the point? The Abu Sayyaf bombed three buses yesterday and said it was their Valentines gift to the President, making sound them like two-bit terrorists from a B-movie starring Eric Roberts and Chuck Norris.

So, now what? Did they win any support for their cause? What are they fighting for again? What is the tagline of their revolution? “Free our People”? “Free our Land”? What do they want? If their cause has any worth of getting any support, why aren’t people rallying in the streets?

What do the people know about the Abu Sayyaf? “Oh, they’re those guys who kidnapped those Americans? Yeah, those guys who bombed those buses and the Superferry.” Why did they do it? Nobody knows anymore. Maybe the Abu Sayyaf themselves have forgotten and have become two-bit crooks threatening people for more money.

We can only pray that more peaceful means can be found in solving this problem. Our country needs more heroes, not cowards who throw a bomb and run and hide.

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Postmortem on Our Love
© 1993 Neil Gaiman and Lorraine Garland

I've been dissecting all the letters that you sent me
Slicing through them looking for the real you
Cutting through the fat and gristle of each tortuous epistle
Trying to work out what to do

I've laid the presents that you gave me out upon the floor
A book with pages missing, and a bottle, and a glove
Now outside it's chilly autumn, I'm conducting a postmortem
On our love

I'm conducting a postmortem on our love
An autopsy to find out what went wrong
I know it died
I just don't know how, or why
Maybe its heart stopped
Maybe its heart stopped

There's an eyeball in a bottle staring sadly at the morgue
There's a white line on the sidewalk silhouetting where it fell
In the dark I am inspecting all the angles of trajectory
Of hell

Was it suicide or murder or an accident, or what?
Though I cut and slice and saw and hack, it won't come back to life
And I'm severing the label of each organ on the table
With a knife
With a knife

I'm conducting a postmortem on our love
An autopsy to find out what went wrong

I know it died
I just don't know how, or why
Maybe its heart stopped
Maybe its heart stopped


If anyone knows where to get the CD of this song from the Flashgirls, please email me.