Top 10 Things I Would Say To George W. Bush If I Met Him And Had The Balls To Say To Him The Things I Really Wanted Say To Him (And I Wouldn't)

10. "In a few months you're going to get kicked out of your house. Considering the current economic crisis, do you find irony in this or--Jesus, stop eating those crayons and pay attention."

9. "You did everything you could to make things so utterly bad and scary that you shocked America into finally considering supporting both an African American and a woman fit for the job you so royally assfucked. Thanks."

8. "Are you going to open a presidential library, or do you just not want to give us the satisfaction of that many more jokes?"

7. "I have often wondered if there is a Christian God - assuming He really is all about the whole post-life placement thing - where that leaves people like you. Not taking into account your religious beliefs or anything, just, you know. Like, if a leader does things for what he perceives to be the good of his country, but those things he does are - he knows - the kinds of things that should cause the forfeiture of his soul, then doesn't that mean he's knowingly sacrificing his soul for his country? And if he is, shouldn't that be considered in the post-life deliberations when it comes to the question of his placement? I mean, he's sacrificing his soul, which is way more costly than sacrificing even his life. But if it is considered, then doesn't that, like, totally deflate any kind positive things about the soul-sacrifice? Since, you know, if he sacrifices his soul for something good, but then doesn't lose his soul because he sacrificed it for something good, then he didn't sacrifice his soul. Which means he did. I'm not trying to be confusing. But I work at a news radio station. So I know you've probably thought about this a hell of a lot more than I have."

6. "Please leave the Fantastic Four alone, Victor. Seriously. No, seriously, or they'll keep making more movies."

5. "Rock, paper, scissors. Best 2 out of 3. I win, you let gay people marry each other. You win, I'll do your homework for a year."

4. "Dude, seriously. I think your wife is kinda hot."

3. "So, you're from Texas, you were even the Governor, but you're the President, right? The head of Federal Executive branch. So who do you think was right in the Civil War? Wait...no, Iron Man doesn't count I'm not talking about, NO the real one, pay attention. PUT THE FUCKING CRAYONS DOWN!"

2. "As much as I hate everything you are and everything you've done, part of me wants to love and forgive you. Isn't that funny?"

1. "I'm Batman."

Top 10 Things I Hardly Ever Do That I Wish I Did More

10. Look for other jobs.

9. Write haiku.

8. Respond to passively-aggressively insulting comments - usually made at work - with something along the lines of "Up your mother, you ridiculous fuckwagon of stupid!"

7. Call in sick.

6. Drop heavy things on people from impressive heights.

5. Eat stuff that's really good, really fills me up, and is good for me.

4. Get stupidly drunk. It's been a while.

3. Revolt.

2. Manage money wisely.

1. Look strangers in the eye and genuinely wish them a good morning.

Top 10 Things I'm Going To Do At My Lovely New Girlfriend's Place This Weekend

10. Thumb-wrestling.

9. Board games.

8. Bribe her cats to give me updates on any other visitors to the home while I am elsewhere.

7. Ask her what kind of car she would rather be hit by, if she absolutely had to get hit by a car. If her answer isn't "ambulance," we're breaking up.

6. Jump up and down on the foot of her bed until she wakes up and brings me to Aquilonia Comics.

5. Untie her shoes while she's not looking.

4. Rearrange her neighbors' real estate signs.

3. Footsie.

2. Drink all her Diet Pepsi.

1. Let the air out of her tires so she can't bring me home.

Top 10 Lessons I Am Slowly Learning As I Inch Towards Middle Age

10. When you reach a certain age all heterosexual, single, unmarried women look at all heterosexual, single, unmarried men as potential mates. And if they are not attracted to you, they harbor a ridiculous amount of anger towards you for being a heterosexual, single, unmarried man they don't want to mate with. My empathy towards them is weak. The chorus of Beck's "Loser" goes on a delicious loop in my head when I encounter them.

9. Once a fat guy reaches a certain age, groups of teenagers predisposed towards yelling insulting shit at fat guys passing them on the street will no longer yell the insulting shit. I don't know why. Maybe they think I'm a cop. Or maybe they don't want to burn any bridges. Someone's going to have to buy them beer.

8. I never got a tattoo and that's okay. Preferable, actually.

7. I'm probably never going to be famous. I'm probably not going to care.

6. You can sleep through almost anything if you just don't give a shit.

5. If you are awake and walking about a little earlier in the morning than most people - say anywhere between 4 am and 6 am - in an iffy neighborhood and you see someone coming from the other direction, the best way to tell whether or not the other person is a potential danger is to see if they're carrying coffee. It is difficult for you to imagine muggers, murderers, serial killers, rapists, terrorists, and cannibals turning to their friends and saying "Why, I must say sir, if I wish to continue this night of raping and murdering and eating human flesh, then I shall need some powerful java!" A person walking with a coffee, even in the most vicious ghetto, will never seem like a danger. They've got coffee for fuck's sake. They're going to work, or maybe coming back from a night job. They've got things going on in their lives - enough that they need coffee at a stupid hour of morning anyway. This sense of safety inspired by coffee is genuine, and probably right, even though ironically the safety you feel is towards someone carrying a scalding hot cup of liquid that would be enough to maim your stupid face if the stranger were so inclined.

4. I am afraid of being eaten. No, really. It is probably my greatest fear. I hate zombie movies and nature programs for precisely this reason.

3. Some people inching towards middle age, or already there, really don't want to be. And as a result they talk like the foul-mouthed, teenage jocks they never were. False stories about sexual and violent exploits just fall out of their mouths like diarrhea. They can't even help it. These people are a gift. Insulting them to their faces is easy and feeds the spirit.

2. Yes, it is all your parents' fault. No, they're never going to apologize or change. That's okay. They'll still give you free shit.

1. Beta Ray Bill is the coolest name of any super-hero ever.

Uncle Ick's Top 10 Deep Thoughts About Comic Book Super-Villains

10. One of the worst things to do to a comic book super-villain is to render him/her enough of an enjoyable character that the readers delight in his/her exploits as much as - if not more so - they enjoy the inevitable victory of the super-hero. This is because just as it is inevitable that Batman will kick the Joker's ass no matter how much the darker sides of our hearts are thrilled by the clown, it is inevitable that - sooner or later - some dumb-ass editor will grab some dumb-ass writer and ask him/her to write a comic in which the villain is now the main character. Examples of this are legion. Venom. Sabretooth. Doctor Doom. Mystique. Magneto. Thanos.

9. There are usually only two ways to write a comic in which the super-villain is the protagonist because no matter how deliciously dark h/she is, the reader must sympathize with the villain.

The first method, and perhaps the most common, is to either have the villain attempt to reform or to place the villain in a situation in which the possibility that h/she will become a hero is dangled in front of the readers' noses. This holds two big advantages. One, in an age when one the most popular super-heroes is a feral bastard who sometimes descends into complete animal savagery and - even when he's blessed with the calm of Buddha - deals with his enemies by punching steel claws through their skin, readers are always hungry for more super-heroes with a dose of pure bad-ass. And a villain-turned-hero carries around liters of the stuff. Should his/her title find success, they will eventually walk down the path that even the purest of super-heroes must travel - the part of the series where they "go dark" for a time and threaten to turn to villainy. The walk down this path is not a steady one, and tends to inspire a great deal of rebellion in regular readers. Someone who's been following the exploits of Spider-Man ever since he was ruled by Stan Lee's melodramatic prose is not going to like to see him hammering on already-defeated enemies out of pure bloodlust. But there's no such problem with a villain-turned-hero. The path they walk is familiar to them, and we always knew they would go there eventually. The writer doesn't even have to come up with some complicated scheme about a symbiote alien replacing the villain's costume and slowly usurping his/her mind. All the villain-turned-hero needs is one shitty day - no worse than the one you or I often have because something bad happened at work or we had a fight with a significant other - and we're okay with them going back to bad-guy town.

The second option is to keep the villain the same, but to pit him/her against someone even more hateful. Mark Millar's Wanted is an (overrated, in my opinion) example of this. The villain who is trained into villainy by both slaughtering those who have done him wrong or just plain annoyed him as well as killing complete strangers, is set on a collision course with a bastard who we learn enjoys killing babies (and we are expected to accept that murdering random children is much, much worse than allowing people to grow to adulthood only to be cut down by some Eminem-wanna-be for no damn reason).

The only way you can escape these options is by writing a comic divorced from a cooperative universe like those of Marvel and DC. This is dangerous however, and almost never works, because while the villain is allowed to remain a villain the series will almost always be crafted by a lesser writer who will allow the thing to devolve into nothing but murder and rape followed by bad jokes. The only exception I have ever found is the absolutely superb mini-series Empire written by Mark Waid.

8. If there is one lesson all super-hero comics try to teach us - whether or not they ever meant or wanted to, and whether or not there's any truth to it at all - it is that whether we will be light or dark forces in the world is governed by how we react to severe trauma. Marvel and DC comics have taught us that the best and surest way to turn someone into a super-hero is to kill their loved ones - their parents in particular, but not always. Superman, Batman, Spider-Man, Daredevil, Black Panther, and more than I could name here have the deaths of parents firmly rooted in their origin stories. Even the Hulk is on the list, though the story of his parents and how their deaths made him who he is was retroactively attached to his series close to thirty years after the fact. The Punisher is an exception to the death-of-parents list, though he does become a vigilante after watching his wife and children gunned down. You might even argue that Wolverine is another example, since while his amnesia did not cause the literal death of his family, it did in the sense that it stole the memory them - and everything else in his life before he awoke with an unbreakable skeleton - from him.

But villains, more often than not, do not suffer trauma from the death of loved ones. They suffer trauma on themselves. Doctor Doom is forever scarred by an accident. Joker is dropped in a vat of chemicals (in some versions of his slippery origin tale, at least). Lex Luthor suffers nothing more than poverty, and murders his parents himself.

So in the world of super-hero comics, to rail against evil that has befallen your loved ones is a good. To rail against evil that has befallen yourself is itself an evil.

7. If you want to know what separates a super-villain from a super-hero - or more precisely what separates why we love super-heroes and why we love super-villains - watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer. In particular, if you watch nothing else, watch the season 5 episode "Fool For Love" in which we are entertained with stories of the vampire Spike's past. The difference between the villain Spike and the possibly-reformed Spike are as clear as anything possibly could be. The Spike who murders the Chinese slayer during the Boxer Rebellion, and later the NYC slayer in the seventies, has no cares and no worries. He loves himself and whether he's getting the upper hand on his enemy or getting his bleached head smashed unceremoniously through the window of a moving subway - Spike loves who he is, revels in who he is, loves what he does, revels in what he does, and no matter where he is or what he's doing you know that he's exactly where he wants to be and is doing exactly what he wants to be doing. But back in the present with a microchip implanted in his head that stops him from hurting humans, Spike is a shadow of his former self. He cries on the ground, clutching the promised money from Buffy for telling her his past, probably thinking he should go somewhere and drink a gallon of holy water to save himself from his pathetic existence. In other words, he is now more in line with Buffy, Xander, Willow, Dawn, Riley and Giles, in that there is now something integral about being Spike that he can't control and that completely sucks all the enjoyment out of his life.

In other words, we love super-heroes because they suffer like us, because they suffer even when they don't have to and probably shouldn't - like us - because sometimes they agonize over every action they make - like us - and wonder if the everything about them that makes them who they are isn't stupid or worthless or evil or just plain wrong - like us.

We don't love super-villains, as some may suggest, because they do things we can't do or won't allow ourselves to do. We love them because no matter what they do, they never suffer. They act without the agony inherent in all our actions. Self-doubt and self-loathing is alien to them. They are always where they want to be, always doing what they want to be doing. We love super-villains because they live as if they only have a few hours of life left even though, as super-villains, they will probably still be trapping Batman in giant gumball machines and unveiling those all-too-plentiful rocks of kryptonite when you and I have been eaten by worms, shat by worms, and the worms' angsty offspring are brooding to Nine Inch Nails albums while wallowing in the excrement that used to be our wildest, unrealized dreams.

6. Hulk can kick all their asses. This is a fact.

5. If I could have sex with any super-villain, it would be The Enchantress. She's a Norse goddess with a bone to pick with The Mighty Thor. She boasts an armada of magicks at her command, including super-sexy powers to seduce men into riding her like an atomic-powered roller coaster so they will subsequently go find Thor and punch him a lot. This would be no problem for me. Thor would eventually hand me my bruised ass, but after pounding a goddess all night and then getting to punch Thor in his stupid hippy face, I wouldn't mind that much.

4. The list of reasons why the three sequels to Tim Burton's Batman weren't as successful as the original are as long as my leg (though I will admit that, unlike many, while I despised both of Schumacher's failures, I liked Batman Returns). When it comes to super-villains however, the reasons why none of them worked as well as Jack Nicholson's Joker are ironic. Schumacher's villains never worked because they each tried desperately to be like the Joker, and failed. Meanwhile, Burton's Catwoman and Penguin failed precisely because they weren't enough like the Joker and never tried to be. They broke the rules inherent in reason #7.

3. The problems with Spider-Man 3 - and again there are many - can mainly be found in its super-villains. Venom was basically just tacked on at the end and never given his chance to shine. For better or worse, the comic book Venom has secured a premiere spot in the ranks of Spider-Man's rogue's gallery, and suffered from such careless, stupid treatment. It would be like just throwing Magneto in at the end of X-Men for some extra muscle. And then there's Sandman whose depiction was, I feel, carried out faithfully. It's doubtful anyone could've played the villain better than Thomas Haden Church. But where Sandman ultimately provided a fat bucket of fail is in the revelation that it was him who murdered Spider-Man's uncle. As I have said before on this blog, I don't care about differences between the storyies of the comics and those of the films as long as the spirit of the story is unmarred. This, however, was unforgivable. As I wrote earlier, Spider-Man is one of a long line of heroes in whose origins the death of family plays an integral role. The fact that the death of Peter Parker's father-figure helped to make him a super-hero is not at all unique. But what does distinguish him from others - one of the reasons why Spider-Man is so terribly fallible and human - is the manner in which that death occurs. Heroes like Batman and Superman and Daredevil suffer guilt for the deaths of their families, even though we all know this guilt is undeserved because they were in situations where none of them could've stopped those deaths. Unlike them, Spider-Man IS in part to blame for the death of his uncle. Unlike the young Bruce Wayne or the infant Kal-El, Peter Parker could have prevented his Uncle's death with no more than one punch to the head of the bastard who ran past him. Spider-Man's guilt, unlike that of the others, is well-deserved though perhaps not to the extent to which he tortures himself. This is why he's the super-hero who bears the burden of that stupid phrase about great power and great responsibility. But having Sandman kill Uncle Ben took that away and DID mar the spirit of the story.

2. One of the things I like least about super-hero adaptations is how often the director feels the need to kill the super-villain at the end. Sure, part of what I don't like about this practice is that it takes away the potential for sequels featuring the same villain. And there's also the fact that it makes murderers out of those who would never murder. But mainly I don't like it because there is a conceit in it that I find distasteful. It seems that the director is telling us that he/she has given us the only battle that could ever be important between these two characters, as if they have succeeded in perfectly defining the differences between a hero and a villain who have been locking horns for decades, and nothing more need be said.

1. The defining super-villain moment has come and gone. It was brief, but powerful, and can be found in the pages of Marvel Super-Heroes: Secret Wars #10. Everything that has followed has been, at best, beautiful imitation.

Top 10 Songs That Best Define My Life And Personality

10. "Loser" by Beck

9. "Insight" by The Dead Kennedys

8. "I Don't Wanna Grow Up" by Tom Waits

7. "Underachievers March and Fight Song" by Archers of Loaf

6. "I Touch Myself" by The Divinyls

5. "The Grouch" by Green Day

4. "My Ass Is On Fire" by Mr. Bungle

3. "Everyone I Went To High School With Is Dead" by Mr. Bungle

2. "The Passenger" by The Stooges

1. "Bitches Ain't Shit" by Ben Folds

Top 10 Best Numbers Between 1 And 10

10. 2

9. 7

8. 6.5

7. 5

6. 8.7388888

5. 4

3. Glen Danzig

2. 1

1. Purple.

Uncle Ick's Top 10 Favorite Comedians

10. Dick Cheney.

9. Eddie Izzard.

8. Jon Stewart.

7. Stephen Colbert.

6. Bill Murray.

5. Henry Rollins (not his spoken-word - his music is funnier).

4. Stephen Wright.

3. George Carlin.

2. Me.

1. Jesus.

Uncle Ick's Top 10 6 Reactions To Today's News

THIS

10. Christ, not again.

9. Maybe I shouldn't even bother finishing Infinite Jest.

8. The day after I write 15 new pages of a novel I haven't touched in over a year, and one of the only living authors I can rightly call a "favorite" does this. I'm not saying it's providence or a sign or anything. Just strange.

7. I guess refusing to subscribe to cable TV or even hook up rabbit ears doesn't render me immune to hearing bad news.

6. I don't feel funny right now and I don't feel like finishing this list.

5. Hey, David. I hope you've found peace. Seriously. And FUCK YOU.

Top 10 Reasons Why I Am Keeping My Phone Off Today, Staying Off The Internet, And Will Remain Completely Unreachable

10. You guys smell.

9. I've got lots of Diet Pepsi. Shit's not gonna drink itself. And I drink alone. Yeah, with nobody else. And when I drink alone, I prefer to drink by myself. Which is redundant in so many ways and I can't believe I just quoted that goddamn song.

8. Glen Danzig.

7. The Quiet Man has to start talking. Most of you don't know what that means. But I honestly think you will some day.

6. I'm going to be blasting a lot of loud instrumentals in my apartment. I can't hear them if I leave, and I honestly think most of you guys wouldn't like them.

5. My cell phone is low on minutes anyway.

4. The Internet is too distracting. Too much porn. I mean blogs. Yeah, blogs. Too many blogs.

3. I have decided today will be a day for writing and nothing more. No softball practice or hanging out or chores or shopping or anything else. Today I write and no one and nothing is going to disturb that.

2. I am basking in the aftermath of a glorious night with a beautiful woman who submitted to my clumsy charms. I will not pretend to know what the future holds other than to say she has foolishly agreed to be called my "significant other" and that knowing this makes my days seem brighter and more hopeful. On this blog, for the sake of both anonymity and symbolic accuracy, she will henceforth be known as Penelope - as in the patient wife of Odysseus, as in the woman whose arms I would brave every manner of island-dwelling beast and monster and wrathful god to be folded into, as in the woman whose unworthy suitors I would slaughter with a cheerful heart and absolute ruthlessness should they be stupid enough to step in my bloody path. Only two things threaten to render her blog-induced pseudonym a silly thing. First, not even the grandest war with the most certain promises of glory and bounty could tempt me from her side, and so neither her patience nor the aforementioned island-hopping trek back to her bed would be necessary. Second, to say she makes me feel like Odysseus is a horrible lie, because Odysseus is nothing but an epic hero whose bravery and cunning would thrill the hearts and minds of every tradition-bent literature professor and lover of the Western World, whereas she makes me feel like a demi-god. I want to be worthy of her. I want her to be proud of me. That's not the only reason for reason #3, but it helps. She is a large piece of the proof of something I am allowing myself to believe: that something out there, something good that can't be named and cares whether or not I feel loved, has answered my lonely scream and answered it with the only pieces of Heaven I believe I will ever know - other people. And if you don't get the Penelope reference, for Christ's sake go to wikipedia. I'm a writer, not a literature professor.

1. Got shit to do.

(P.S. Just wanted to talk about something funny and ironic in reference to the end of reason #2. I have a friend, a co-worker, who is a brilliant photographer. Some months ago I moved into a kind of "iffy" area crime-wise. There is graffiti, and I recently learned the graffiti artists are a bit smarter than I initially thought. Well, in some ways, at least. In particular, there is an artist whose tag consists of two kind of bubble faces - one laughing and one sad - and it took me some weeks before I realized the artist's tag was his own contemporary rendering of the tragedy/comedy masks of theater. Next to one of these tags - on the back wall of a veterinarian hospital in the path of my short, daily trek to work - are the words HELL IS OTHER PEOPLE. I have been so - forgive my Reznor-like self-pity - desperately, desperately lonely. So lonely that I was tempted to ask my co-worker to follow me to the building and take a picture of me standing next to the quote. But the world has been nice to me lately. Old friends, new friends, and a new lover have found their way into my life. And it's all happened in such a short space of time that it can't feel like anything but providence. I didn't ask my friend to take the picture mainly because it was embarrassing to ask for it, and equally embarrassing - should he have agreed - to model for a photo in public. But now I won't ask because, Dear Anonymous Wall Artist, YOU. ARE. WRONG.)

Top 10 Geek Tribes I Gladly Name My Enemy

10. Trekkies.

9. Dorks who dress like vampires.

8. Star Wars nuts.

7. Anyone who speaks only or primarily in geek movie/tv quotes. Sorry my fellow geeks, but remembering witty quotes someone else wrote/spoke doesn't make you witty. It's okay to be a geek while simultaneously rousing up original thoughts. It's okay. Give it a try. Yeah, yeah, I saw The Holy Grail too. Yeah, yeah, shrubbery, you're being repressed, bring out your dead, it's just a flesh wound, ha ha, you're so clever, JESUS!!!! GO HAVE SEX!

6. I have a very funny thing I say occasionally. 'Cause I'm all funny. And I came up with it myself (please see reason #7 for the importance of this). I will, when the subject of weed arises, say that I no longer smoke it because, "Smoking weed is just like watching Jeopardy. You just sit on your couch and feel stupid." Always. Always. ALWAYS some shitknuckle fuckwagon of geek responds with, "Well, I usually know the answers on Jeopardy." No. No you don't. Not unless the answer is "What is...I'm a fucking liar! And a virgin!" If you usually knew the answers you would go on the fucking show and make a bunch of fucking money so you could buy more fucking Half-Elf Magic-User miniatures. Stop interrupting my funny to stroke your skull-cock!

5. Furries. Just stop it guys. Just stop it. I'm a pretty open-minded guy, but just stop it. Do something less disturbing. Like, pee on each other or something. But just stop it with the furries. Please. Stop it. CSI doesn't need that many story ideas.

4. Comic book geeks who think their favorite super-hero can beat up the Hulk. He can't. And you know it. This isn't just a competitive thing. I'm a literary motherfucker. I appreciate character. And one of the primary things that defines the Hulk's character is that he's better than everybody. It's true. Umberto Eco even wrote about it. And Roland Barthes. And that other guy. Seriously.

3. Thor fans. We all know Marvel's never going to let the Hulk kick Thor's ass like he should. So I say we settle this in a civilized manner. I'll get my Hulk-brothers together, and you get your hammer-hippy fans together, and we'll go to a vacant lot for a knife fight.

2. Geeks who live in their mother's basement and make fun of other geeks who live in their mothers' basements because they live in their mothers' basements. First of all, why is it always the mother's basement? What happened to the Dad? Second of all, your self-loathing annoys me.

1. Mall-walkers. My suicide monkey squads are taking you motherfuckers OUT.

Top 10 COMPLETELY TRUE Things (no, seriously) You Probably Don't Know About Me

10. I can, from memory, recite the dictionary definition of smegma.

9. I believed in Santa until the fifth grade.

8. I was baptized Catholic when I was 12, took my first Communion, was never confirmed, and was briefly an altar boy.

7. My ex-girlfriend brought me to a sadomasochist/kink masquerade a couple of years ago. I thought having a masquerade for people who regularly dress up in costumes and give themselves funny names was more than a little redundant. During our relationship, I had come up with a name for myself to represent how I thought her and her kinky friends thought of me - "Captain Vanilla". So, I bought a white mask, white sneakers, white basketball shorts, tied a white tablecloth around my neck as a cape, painted a bright and glittery purple "V" on my shirt, and for the first and only time became the superhero Captain Vanilla. The responses came in three categories - most people thought it was funny, some people upon hearing my superhero name retorted with "we'll change that by the end of the night" (guess what, they didn't), and some looked like they wanted to punch me. Which they would've, if they weren't a bunch of wimpy trekkie pricks who regularly gathered to pretend there were other people who wanted to have sex with them. I think mainly people were just surprised that someone at the shindig had come up with an idea for a costume that didn't necessitate lots and lots of black leather (the Kinksters are wild and rebellious INDIVIDUALS...in a very regimented, uniform and fascist rule-oriented kind of way - no, no, BITTER? ME?).

6. Because of the relationship that led to reason #7, I have met more women who call themselves "Blue" than I can actually remember.

5. I once stayed home from school - back at the University of Tampa - for two days because I really, really wanted to finish Final Fantasy VII.

4. I once rented a cabin in the woods for a week to be all emo and write poetry. At one point, I smelled something and wasn't able to put my finger on what it was. I ignored it for hours. Eventually, I realized it was gas from the stove. I hadn't used the stove the entire time, but must have accidentally hit one of the knobs. I opened all the windows and doors and sat outside until the place aired out. I had been lighting cigarettes the entire time, without knowing the danger. And it was my only night there that I hadn't made a fire in the fireplace. So I sat outside and smoked and thought about that for a long time.

3. I once had my friend Susan put her hand on top of my head and shave around it, so I had a big handprint on my head. Shortly afterwards, my brother brought me with his college's theater department to Greenwich Village to see Blue Man Group. I was pulled on stage and, according to the other students, the Blue Men were having a lot of fun making fun of my hair behind my back.

2. My first crush was named Kelly. I wrote her poems and sent them to her, unsigned, for a week. She wasn't interested. We were both in Public Speaking - me in my horrible military, Christian, all-boys school, and her in her Christian, all-girls school. I took vengeance upon her the only way I could. I had already qualified for the State Finals for Oral Interpretation of Literature. She was in the same category, and my coach told me if I went up for it again before the finals and managed to place higher than her - which I knew I would because I was damn good at it and Kelly and all the girls from her school in that category only read what their coaches let them read, which was always either Robert Frost or shit about cats - I would knock her out of qualification for no good reason. So I did. It was one of the most mean-spirited, petty-minded things I've ever done. All my trophies from that time are gone. All that's left are a few people my age who may or may not remember the look on the judges' faces when I read a poem that mentioned handprints of shit left on toilets. I smashed all the trophies during the retreat mentioned in reason #4, and burned all my high school yearbooks and pictures. It's better that way.

1. I'm right-handed. I'm not ambidextrous. Regardless, I masturbate with my left.

Top 10 Things I Like To Think Of Myself As VERSUS The Top 10 Things I Actually Am

10. I like to think of myself as B.A., or even Face, but I'm probably more like Murdock.

9. I like to think of myself as a dwarf, but I'm probably a hobbit.

8. I like to think of myself as Liono, but I'm probably Snarf.

7. I like to think of myself as the Hulk, but I'm probably Bruce.

6. I like to think of myself as Spike, but I'm probably Xander.

5. I like to think of myself as one of the Dinobots, but I'm probably, well, yeah. One of the Dinobots.

4. I like to think of myself as He-Man, but I'm probably Orko.

3. I like to think of myself as House, but I'm probably Wilson. Or that dork on Scrubs.

2. I like to think of myself as Batman, but I'm probably that ugly reporter from the first Burton film who was slobbering over Vicki Vale.

1. I like to think of myself as the god of hellfire, but I'm probably just an irresistible sex god. Somehow, I'll deal.

Top 10 Reasons Why Death Sucks

10. No more sex.

9. Hitler is dead. Who wants to be like Hitler?

(vegetarians)

8. It's the most relaxed you'll ever be. And you can't enjoy it, because you're fucking dead.

7. No more Diet Pepsi.

6. You won't find out whether or not (insert name of guy/girl you have a crush on) on (insert name of your favorite reality show) will beat that annoying fuck (insert name of the guy/girl on the reality show who is a bitch/asshole).

5. Risk of going all zombie. Zombies suck. (I proved it)

4. This is when everyone starts saying bad shit about you. And you're not there to prove you were out of town the week the zoo monkeys were violated. And you don't bend that way anyway. And they were askin' for it, they were FUCK. ING! asking for it! Are you the only one who noticed they never wore any clothes? JESUS!

3. If the Christians are right, Cat Stevens is totally fucked. And that's not cool. Who doesn't like Cat Stevens?

(Dog Jones, the jealous fuck)

2. No comic books.

1. You become B.A. Baracus.

B.A. Baracus was Mr. T's character on The A-Team. B.A. was afraid of no man. Even if you were a man with a huge automatic weapon, all the bullets would magically spin around him, and he would pick you up and throw you. Even though he would throw you in slow-motion, you'd be down for the count. And then Murdock and Face would take out the rest of the guys with the tank they made out of a shopping cart and a pencil sharpener.

But B.A. was afraid of one thing - flying. And The A-Team found themselves needing to fly quite a bit. So the other guys on the team would need to figure out some way to trick B.A. into ingesting an incapacitating drug at least every other episode, which was tough because, you know, B.A. was ready for it. They drugged him a lot. He had guys drugging him so much, he may as well have been in a sorority.

So, that's you. When you die. You're B.A. Baracus. You don't know where you're going, and in fact you probably don't even know you're going on a trip. You're just sitting there, smiling in spite of your usual stoic presence, because your buddy Face just bought you a milkshake. Your favorite flavor, too. Wow, Face is nicer than usual, maybe you should stop calling him a FOO'. And man that milkshake tastes great! Better than usual. In fact the world just. You know. Feels. Nicer. Than. Thud.

Top 10 Songs I Would Want Played At My Wedding Reception

10. The Price Is Right theme song

9. "Get the Fuck Out" by Skid Row

8. "Run to the Hills" by Iron Maiden

7. "You've Got A Ugly And Stupid Butt" by Strong Bad

6. "Everything's Not Lost" by Coldplay

5. "I Don't Want To Grow Up" by Tom Waits

4. "Stop Touching My Food" by Happy Flowers

3. "I Hate Myself and Want To Die" by Nirvana

2. "Everyone I Went To High School With Is Dead" by Mr. Bungle

1. "Bitches Ain't Shit" by Ben Folds

Top 10 Best Things About Last Night's Date

10. We saw Hamlet 2. It was funny. I LOL'd. Like for srs.

9. We had to wait something like 20 minutes to get a seat the restaurant. It was raining, and people kept interrupting us because we were sitting on the same bench beneath which the restaurant patrons had stored their umbrellas. Regardless, I hardly minded, and in fact was temporarily surprised when we were finally seated.

8. We are both convinced we know each other from somewhere else. We kept trying to guess, and at one point the waiter asked me if I had figured it out yet. Apparently my voice carries when I'm, well, awake.

7. Glen Danzig.

6. She bought me a Hulk action figure for my birthday. It was waiting for me in the car when she picked me up, in a gift bag with a picture of a sock monkey that reads "Born to be WILD!" Some women just know the way to your heart. Hulk and monkeys? Double threat. Can't go wrong.

5. I totally snagged five bucks out of her wallet and she didn't even notice. It was awesome.

4. She has big, brown sexy eyes.

3. She has the sexiest voice in the universe. She could read the phone book to me and I would be in Heaven.

2. We totally made out. Like totally.

1. Afterwards, I just felt good. Just good. She dropped me off at about a quarter to midnight, I milled around my apartment, wrote a message to an old friend from Florida who found me on facebook, dug up old poems and essays I'd written when I was in Florida, and just generally felt good. It's nice. After living for so long without a social life, mainly because of working for four years with Batman's schedule, I am re-learning that when you reach out to the world, it tends to reach back. I feel good. I'm gonna go for a walk now.

Uncle Ick's Top 10 Favorite Films

(For any film nuts out there, I beg you to consider the title of this list literally. In other words, do not think I am claiming any special kind of knowledge in the art of film making or that I am saying these are the top 10 best films of all time. I'm not. I believe there definitely are films on this list that any film critic or student would have to agree are - at the very least - deserving of great praise, but I'm not going to pretend that I have enough knowledge of the art of crafting movies or have even seen enough movies to make a top 10 best films of all time list. These are the ones I like. 'Cuz I like 'em. So don't get all up in my grill and shit. Um. Yo.)

10. Big Trouble in Little China Directed by John Carpenter


There are very few stupid things I like because they're stupid. I'm not a fan of B movies, not even usually the more self-aware B movies like this one that know how silly they are and so lampoon themselves while reveling in their idiocy. But I've always liked Big Trouble ever since it came out when I was a kid. I think when I first saw it, I was somewhat aware of the self-parody aspect of it, but honestly I was more jazzed by all the guns and swords and karate and dudes shooting lighting bolts. Especially the lightning bolts. I don't know what it is. If there's a dude or a chick who shoots lightning bolts, I'm there.


9. Raising Arizona Directed by Joel Coen


Gather around, children, and I shall regale you with tales of wonder so fantastic you could hardly believe them. Tales of dragons and princesses. Of battles won and love lost. Of gods and goddesses, of demons and devils, and of all the unfortunate souls that lay in-between. But the most fantastic of all my tales, that will make you laugh to think it could possibly be true, is of a distant past when Nicolas Cage didn't think he was John Wayne, and so made movies worth a flying shit.


8. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon Directed by Ang Lee


The funny thing is, I hated this flick the first time I saw it. I never saw it in the theater. Instead, after hearing that its director would also be directing Hulk, I bought the DVD to see if I could get a clue about the worth of the guy who would be bringing my favorite green-skinned goliath to the screen.

I remember describing it to people as "a generic kung-fu flick an hour and a half longer than it needed to be." The truth? I don't like admitting this at all, but I think that what irked me about Crouching Tiger when I first saw it was the message of female empowerment, because at the time I had some serious anger issues regarding women. I'm not proud of it, but there it is.

My mind has since changed. In fact, when I used to play World of Warcraft, there was a zone of the game - a large, dense jungle - called Stranglethorn Vale that I always loved going to, and the only reason I liked going there (as any WoW player will tell you, STV is a BITCH of a zone to navigate, and there are some who avoid it completely) is that the music for that particular zone (each zone in WoW has different music) was very evocative of the lovely, sad musical score of Crouching Tiger.


7. Se7en Directed by David Fincher


There's a lot to like about Se7en, but I think what I love most is Morgan Freeman's character.

Freeman is a marvelous actor, but I've always been bothered by his presence. Or, more to the point, how his presence is used. There's this larger-than-life thing about most of his characters. His films almost always have at least one of what I call the "Morgan Moment" - the moment when everyone has to shut up because Morgan has something Important to say. Lean On Me is pretty much nothing but a neverending series of Morgan Moments. I mean, Christ, he even had those Morgan Moments in Robin Hood.

And the result is a whole bunch of characters that just don't seem very fallible, at least in regards to morality and wisdom. But that isn't the case in Se7en. His character is like a Raymond Chandler or Dashiel Hammett noir detective whose been cursed to stay in the world too long. He is utterly depressed and cynical, only able to endure his existence by filling his life with monotonous rituals. The scene right after Brad Pitt's character schools him in the bar - when he says, in response to Freeman's cynical speeches about humanity's darkness, something along the lines of "You say you're leaving because of all these things, but really I think you say all these things because you're leaving" - when Freeman returns to his apartment and spins a switchblade into a dartboard over and over, is one the most quietly dark and disturbing moments of any of Freeman's characters. With the possible exception of his character in Unforgiven, he's never been more fallible or more human.


6. The Silence of the Lambs Directed by Jonathan Demme


It's unfortunate that Hollywood felt the need to mar the memory of this great film with its Lucas-like compulsion to spit out sequels and prequels that could never hope to be as good as the original.

Jodie Foster is wonderful in this film, there's no denying it, just like there's no denying Hopkins is the best reason to watch it. The Lecter of Lambs is one of the greatest villains on film. I don't think I need to say anymore. You all know it.


5. The Dark Knight Directed by Christopher Nolan


I don't think I can write anything that I didn't already write here. This is the best super-hero film. I doubt that will change any time soon.


4. This is Spinal Tap Directed by Rob Reiner


As a teenager I hung out with a lot of musicians. Spinal Tap is probably the best thing they introduced me to. It just never gets, no matter how many times I watch it, not funny. I'll always laugh at Christopher Guest's claims about his amps' superior worth and I'll always laugh at Billy Crystal's cameo when he angrily tells his fellow mime-waiter "Mime is Money!" I'll always laugh when Guest, Michael McKean, and Harry Shearer try and pathetically fail at an impromptu, acapella version of "Heartbreak Hotel" at Elvis Presley's grave, or when Rob Reiner reads the band the infamous two-word review.


3. The Lord of the Rings Directed by Peter Jackson


(for the purposes of this list, I'm counting all three films as one, and I'd argue they are in a sense)

As a fan of the books since the third grade, I never thought anyone could pull it off. Never. Certainly not the guy who made his bones with a movie about space zombies invading New Zealand.

And I don't complain about the differences between the films and the books. In fact, I'm glad the differences were there. Why? Well, not only would a word-for-word adaptation of The Lord of the Rings be something like 80 hours long, but because of all the differences - especially because of all the things that are in the books that were left out of the films - if you've never read the books before but love the films, there are still a lot of treasures left in the books for you to explore.

I have a few gripes. I didn't like that they never even tried to make it a surprise that Boromir would fall to the power of the Ring. You pretty much know it's going to happen as soon as he shows up, particularly because of the casting. Sean Bean's built his career playing characters who are either traitors, heroes completely inadequate relative to the tasks at hand, or both. There were a few things here and there that Jackson handled with more blatant magic that I always pictured as being handled more subtly. For example when Gandalf breaks Saruman's debilitating hold on King Theoden, while reading the books I never pictured Theoden literally growing younger, but simply standing taller and straighter - seeming more youthful because of his mindset and physical presence. I didn't like that Denethor was treated as a 2-dimensional madman. I always saw him as a very tragic figure. They never even mention that it was one of the Palanthir that magically drove him insane. I mean, as much as Boromir was made to seem like a jerk at the Council of Elrond when he complained that the rest of the world was kept safe by the blood of his people, he wasn't wrong. Being the only thing standing between an idyllic fantasy world and its destruction at the hands of armies of demonic bastards would be enough to stress anyone out, even without a magical glowy thing helping drive you apeshit. And when Gandalf bonks Denethor upside the head because he was yelling for everyone to run, that was just stupid. Really. I mean, come on. Was that the day Will Farrell visited the set or something?

But at the end of the day, Jackson & co. made something astonishing, and differences from the source material be damned, they were true to the souls of the books, and that's what's important.


2. Dr. Strangelove (or How I Learned to Stop Worry and Love the Bomb) Directed by Stanley Kubrick


Best. Satire. Ever.

1. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Directed by Michel Gondry


I don't usually seek out love stories, or like them. To be completely, unfortunately honest - I don't feel much like writing about this. Mainly for the same reason that I haven't been able to force myself to watch it since, well, if you read this blog regularly or know me in real life, then you know since when.

It's beautiful and funny and sweet. It will make you cry.

Oh, and after getting used to seeing Elijah Wood as a pure, cute little hobbit, seeing him play a sick little jerk who steals ladies underwear is awesome.

My Top 10 Reactions So Far To The Halloween Costume Poll

10. Wow. Twenty-two votes so far. You guys rock.

9. No love for Olaf the Troll? Racists.

8. Two people voted for Tom Bombadil?!?! Who the hell are you and why do you hate me?

7. I'm considering just closing the poll. I can't imagine there will be many more votes in 41 days.

6. Who the hell voted for Thor and why do you hate me? Do you have any idea how much Thor and Hulk hate each other? I'd have to beat myself! And not even in a nice way!

5. Thank you, someone, for voting for Maestro. Just glad to see someone here's read Future Imperfect. Well, either that or they just thought it would be funny to see me in green body paint. And it would be. But also sexy. Nah. Nah, mostly just funny.

4.

3. #4 was a response to the people who voted for Silent Bob.

2. Prince Vultan was an early favorite. Thankfully he got nudged out of the way faster than Fred Thompson.

1. Thank fucking GOD Sallah is winning. Now I gotta go find a fez.

Top 10 Things I Have Against Glen n Danzig

A lovely lady has read a bit of my blog and asked me exactly what I have against Glen Danzig.

And so...

10. Another lovely lady with whom I work revealed to me yesterday that I have been misspelling Glen Danzig's name. Apparently, his first name ends with two n's. So fuck Glen Danzig for making me look stupid just so he could slap an extra consonant on his name. You are Glen Danzig on my blog, Glenn Danzig. Deal with it.

9. I have absolutely no proof to back this up, but I suspect that "Danzig" may not be his given name. If that's true, then it makes me wonder why he chose "Danzig." It may just be because he thought it sounded cool and somewhat sinister (and it does, there's no denying it). It also may be because - unless I'm forgetting the WWII history that I studied closely for a brief but intense period - the city of Danzig was the first major Polish city to fall the Nazis. Which brings up some questions, particularly considering Glen Danzig made his bones in a punk band and there's an unfortunate but undeniable relationship between punk and neo-nazism. I'd like to think that - assuming of course, that I am right that it is not his given name and that he is naming himself after the city - he chose the name as a defiant middle finger to Nazis and their ilk (as in "I am the spirit of the fallen city and I am coming back to kick your ass").

8. No one else was using his name in the way I use it, so hey, why the hell not. It's like a shot from the dark! You never saw it coming! You try to block my right and OH SHITKNUCKLE! HE'S A SOUTHPAW! I am ninja! Hear me...not.

(7 1/2. WHOA! "I am ninja! Hear me...not." That's fucking good. I'm writing that down some...oh already did. Nevermind.)

7. If you've heard his music, particularly if you've heard his stuff from his Misfits days, and especially particularly totally and absolutely as well as anally (eww) if you've heard the most controversial Misfits song ever, then you know he raped my mother today and it didn't matter much to him. That's pretty fucking low.

6. Glenn Glen Danzig.

5. In the Misfits, there was the song I referenced in #7 ("Last Caress", if you don't know it - and NO, for any of you metalheads, that isn't a Metallica original), there was a song in which he takes on the character of a shunned nerd begging his mother to let him go out and kill all the kids who shun him, and then there's the only Danzig (as in the band Danzig) song everyone knows - "Mother". Glen Danzig has some serious fucking Mommy issues.

4. I heard Sammy Hagar punched him in the face once at an awards ceremony, with no reprisals forthcoming. I'm sure the story is utter bullshit. It was told to me by the same woman who claimed she regularly hung out with Metallica and Megadeth in a New Jersey bar and that she once knocked a drunken Dave Mustaine on his ass for dissing the late Cliff Burton. But the memory of being forced to imagine the fictional fracas is enough to hurt. It's like when they ask Tinkerbell Legolas to tell them what the elves are singing about Magneto Gandalf. "For me the grief is still too near."

3. Hulk could totally kick his ass.

2. Rip Taylor.

(1 1/2. HA! Didn't see that coming, did ya?)

1. I have, in my time, loved the music of exactly three bands enough that you could reasonably argue I worshiped them to a perhaps unhealthy degree. Jane's Addiction, Nirvana, and The Misfits - the latter being originally fronted by Glen Danzig.

I am not going to make an argument that the music of The Misfits is better or worse than that of the other two bands. It would be like arguing whether gravity was cooler than relativity or something. It'd just be silly.

(gravity's way cooler)

What I can say, however, is that my love for the music of The Misfits is somehow purer than that which I have for Nirvana or Jane's Addiction.

By "pure" I mean that out of the three bands, The Misfits are the only band whose music was and is enough for me. I didn't and don't want posters. I didn't and don't want to read every article written about them. I didn't and don't care about any feuds they may have waged with other bands, what critics did and didn't like them, who influenced them or who they influenced. Fuck their t-shirts. Give me their albums.

Likely, this is at least in part because The Misfits lived and died before I ever knew who the hell they were. I had no chance - as is the embarrassing case with my love for Nirvana - to hunt down magazines and books with their pictures and put together obsessive and, to anyone who wasn't an angsty and lonely teen while Kurt still had a throat with which to scream, downright disturbing collages of Kurt, and Krist, and Dave, but mostly Kurt. It wasn't like when I read in Spin that Kurt hated Pearl Jam, and so I decided that I hated Pearl Jam. Or like when I read in the authorized biography Come As You Are that Kurt no longer hated Pearl Jam, and so I no longer hated Pearl Jam. Or like - as you may have noticed and which I honestly just noticed just now while reading back what I'd written - while I would never feel comfortable enough to refer to Glen Danzig as just Glen or even Glenn, I somehow am absolutely fine referring to Cobain as just plain old Kurt. Like he was living downstairs and we hung out and listened to Misfits albums together.

I can't tell you anything about the history of The Misfits. I can tell you their frontman was Glen Danzig and that's about it. I can't tell you the names of any other band member.

They have a song called "London Dungeon." I hadn't heard it in a while and had a strong urge to find it. I didn't find the original but I saw I had downloaded a cover of it along with a bunch of other Misfits cover songs on the tribute album Violent World. Prong covers "London Dungeon" in a pretty uninteresting way, kind of like a more robotic White Zombie, but the lyrics reminded me of what I thought the first time I heard the song. The lyrics made me think that the song didn't refer to an actual dungeon, but that somebody had dissed The Misfits. In particular, that someone had dissed The Misfits for not being more like the bands of the British punk scene. And so Danzig defiantly informed his critics that "I don't wanna be in your London Dungeon! I don't wanna be in your British Hell!"

I mention this not because I'm right. I have no idea if I'm right. I have no real basis for my theory. I have not read a single article on their music.

I mention this because "London Dungeon" is the ONLY Misfits song I have ever bothered to sit and think about, to dissect, and to analyze. That may not mean much to you, but you're reading a blog written by a man who dissects and analyzes FUCKING. EVERYTHING. I made my way through college applying literary theory to Black Lightning and Captain America comics. I am someone who will tell you that I will not read Spider-Man because I'm tired of Jesus Christ swinging around buildings and beating up muggers. I don't watch Batman Begins and think "wicked fx dude!" I watch it and think about how interesting it is that the director and writer used Alfred, Lucius Fox, Ra's Al Ghul, Jim Gordon, and even Carmine Falcone as warring father figures fighting over dominance for the absent father Bruce Wayne tortures himself over. I am a pop culture dissecting machine. I am the Borg. Resistance is silly.

But not The Misfits. I just don't do it. I don't care. I don't know all of their lyrics. I don't care about the lyrics I can't discern. I don't look them up. They sing about zombies and aliens and alien zombies and people who eat brains and complain that brains get tedious after nothing but brains. And they do it all with melodies that sound happier than Bill Clinton in a cigar shop, and subconsciously convince you that somehow the song about the guy who's controlling space zombies is actually a fucking love song. They are fucking beautiful. They are the sole pop culture beast in my life which I leave to mill about the wild as they will without probing them anally or tagging them with electronic locators. I don't dog them like an acting coach about their motivations and goals. I just love them. Unconditionally.

And what happens? They reform. Without Danzig.

The result?

They actually covered "Monster Mash".

Monster Mash.

I'm sure it isn't Danzig's fault. But like I said, I don't know the names of the rest of them, so he's all I have to blame.

(0. Dear Mr. Glenn Danzig. If by chance you read this, which I doubt, I'm just being silly. Except for the long-winded and cuss-tinged sentimentality of reason #1. That stuff's true. Oh, and the Hulk probably could beat you up. If he was real. Which he isn't. But if he was, he could. No offense. I just use your name because I think it's funny to plop a name down in my lists which has absolutely nothing to do with the matter at hand - whether the matter at hand is why women should have sex with me, or why ninjas are better than pirates, or rice, or Batman. Or even fellatio with ice cubes. Please don't hurt me. Sincerely - Someone who isn't really named Michileen Martin and doesn't live where you might find out Michileen Martin lives.)

(-1. Hey, look at the date! Happy Birthday Me. You old fuck.)

(-2. If you want to give me a birthday present, please read yesterday's post. Ladies pay special attention to reason #2. Oh and reason #1)

(-3. I have a tendency to ramble.)

Top 10 Things I Hope I Get For My Birthday Tomorrow

10. Diet Pepsi

9. A Kindle

8. Money

7. A car

6. A new queen-sized mattress

5. A small card verifying that a friend or family member has struck my least favorite charity in the groin in my name

4. Full set of samurai battle armor, including laser rifle

3. Someone else to do my damn top 10 list for me

2. Fellatio

1. All of the above, but with ice cubes

Top 10 Reasons Why David Foster Wallace's Infinite Jest Is Pissing Me Off

10. My hardcover copy of Infinite Jest is close to 1,000 pages long - close to 1100 if you count the footnotes. I'm a little over 150 pages into the thing and am reminded of the exact moment when, as a teenager, I decided to stop reading Stephen King. The last King novel I bothered with was The Tommyknockers. Somewhere between 200 and 250 pages into the thing, I realized I had yet to get the slightest inkling of what the fuck was going on. All I remember now is that some woman was digging up something in the woods, some poet was heading to the woman who was digging up the thing, and some guy was fantasizing about titfucking a postal worker. While I had enjoyed other phone-book-length works by King like It and The Stand, The Tommyknockers just didn't hold the same interest and the effort hardly seemed worth it. I mentally made a note that if I ever became a bestselling author I wouldn't hate my editors as much as King obviously did, and probably went and read a comic book.

9. If you read my blog a couple of days ago you might recall that I have recently decided, in order to help my writing, to keep a notebook with me while reading so that I can mark down any words I don't know the definitions to and find the meanings later. Infinite Jest is making this ridiculously hard. I've filled over two pages of a notebook - with two rows per page - with words found in only 66 pages of Infinite Jest. Crepuscular. Murate. Mythopoeia. Carminative. Agnate. Erumpent. Ileum. Pimatribe. Sangfroid. Creosote. Osseous. And I can guess the meanings of most of the words by how he uses them, but I said I would look them up and write them down, and if I want to stick to the code I have to do it. Verbose bastard.

8. As mentioned in #10, though a novel, Infinite Jest has approximately 100 pages of footnotes. Many simply clarify references to real and (maybe, I don't even know) fictional drugs. But some are actually chapters all to themselves. It can get a little frustrating finding your place in the story after spending Hulk knows how long reading the damn footnotes.

7. Because of the footnotes, I'm actually using two bookmarks - one for the story and one for the footnotes section. I just don't like carrying the thing around. I feel like people are going to see me with this big-ass book with two bookmarks in them and think I either read novels in a very strange manner, or that I'm just a republican moron.

6. Reading a page of Infinite Jest is not like reading a page of another novel. It is sometimes a bit like reading 19th century British literature in that Wallace finds ways to make sentences last for days. Many chapters are just one long, square, daunting paragraph. And each paragraph contains at least a half-dozen sentences that stretch on and on, particularly when he uses the voice of one of his more uneducated characters and purposely misspells every other word in doing so. Like writing "pernt" instead of "point."

5. I try to read at least a novel a week. I read a lot, but I'm no speed reader. And I limit myself to one novel in part because I'm usually also trying to read one non-fiction book and perhaps a book of poetry or drama at the same time. I worked it out. Reading Infinite Jest in one week would mean reading around 150 pages of it per day. I could read 150 pages of just about any novel in a day, but not Infinite Jest. So I decided to give myself two weeks for it instead. That means about 66 pages per day. And it's still a fucking monster. I've considered extending it to three weeks, but Christ I'd like to read another novel sometime this year.

4. No Hulk.

3. Glen Danzig.

2. In spite of everything, it truly is an incredible novel. So, unlike The Tommyknockers, I just can't shove it back in my bookcase and forget it.

1. At one point I find myself reading one of the longer footnotes listing the filmography of the main character's dead father, which include things like documentaries interviewing actors who are named John Wayne but are not the John Wayne everyone knows about, realize the music I'm blasting in my living room is a punk-tinged, surf-rock instrumental by the only band I like whose name ends with a question mark - Man or Astroman?, and the only other band I know whose name ends in a question mark is Therapy? and they suck though their cover of "Where Eagles Dare" by The Misfits is actually not bad - that the name of the instrumental is "The Man from F.U.C.K. Y.O.U.," and realize that no, no, I really AM one strange motherfucker.

Top 10 Things I Want To Do Today

10. See the look on the face of my co-worker when he finds out we're televising a slide with his picture asking our listeners to call him up and wish him a Happy Labor Day.

9. Write.

8. Read.

7. Stumble upon some kind of horrible accident in which the surviving beautiful women need immediate medical attention - the medical attention in question involving allowing them to perform fellatio while using ice cubes.

6. See Dick Cheney walking down the street, flip him the bird and say, "Hey Cheney! Up your mother!"

5. Fight evil.

4. Foil the robbery of a truck delivering Diet Pepsi and be rewarded with a lifetime supply of Diet Pepsi. Also, enjoy fellatio with ice cubes from the beautiful yet lonely female truck driver.

3. Sleep.

2. Leap tall buildings in a single bound and, more importantly, survive the landing.

1. After getting a healthy nap, waking myself up with my bottomless keg of Diet Pepsi, writing an award-winning short story while simultaneously reading 3 other novels, unleash my samurai skills on an evil tyrant who has kidnapped a beautiful princess atop a tall building - which necessitates my leaping the tall building in a relatively small number of bounds - kill the bastard, ready myself to accept the rewarding love of the princess who turns out to be a demon in disguise, kill her stupid ass, but then find the REAL princess and her young but legal sister, older and experienced mother, and all her drunk friends with bad eyesight and low standards, and then the fellatio with ice cubes. Afterwards, we celebrate the afterglow of love by finding Dick Cheney and simultaneously flipping him the bird and yelling "Hey Cheney! Up your mother!"