Welcome back to Good in Theory, on this, the day of Christmas Eve. A present for you is in this post! Enticed? Onwards to the Good in Theory Special Christmas Post!
The first order of business is to present a glimmering image file to you. The subject matter is highly un-Christmasy, but I threw in a Christmas tree in the background of the last panel, so I hope it doesn’t completely decimate your “holiday buzz.”

From the depths of my impenetrable lair outside of Seattle. I have been toiling on work. Dark work. I have managed to uncover secret occult magics that allow me to capture a point in time for preservation, as well as bend the laws of the natural world to impossibly increase the flow of time.

In other words: I recorded the entire process of making this comic, minus the pencil drawings. A process that took over five hours of unrelenting labor to complete. I have sped up the video so that you can see it all in a span that is just shy of 8 minutes. Any faster and you would hear a sound, much like the ripping of paper, except so powerful that your insides would vibrate and you would stumble with great force. Then nothingness . . . as such great time condensed that fast would cause a tear in the very foundation of the universe. I also added some music to make it a little more interesting to watch. I decided to go with some fairly neutral music that I figured would just be a nice addition to the background. I will post the links to the songs below the video.

Also, this is the low-quality version posted below. If your Internet is fast enough, you should check out the high quality version (click “watch in high quality” beneath the video). In HQ you can clearly see the pencil work, so I feel like you are missing out on something if you watch only on low.

The song credits are (in order):

Jumper (by Waterbliss)

Lost Count (by SubZero45)

Winterbliss (by Mathias Rudsengen)

Chances are you have heard the first and last song if you have played the fantastic game “Castle Crashers.”

When I told Noah that I was recording this, he responded with “That’s it?”

While he claims he was joking, it only furthers my theory that he exists on this earth only to turn all of my thoughts and emotions into a whirling vortex of rage.

This blog has damaged me. It is a cruel master that hungrily craves my thoughts and experiences. Does anyone even read it? Well, clearly you do, so I feel like I should reward you for coming here. I try to make most of the posts semi-interesting to read. In this way, I am always searching for material.

What is so damaging about this blog is when something terrible/strange happens to me, I have a slight feeling of elation like, “Oh boy! Maybe I can write about this in a post!” Usually it’s something like the panhandler that wanted me to come sit and talk to him about Alaska, saying I didn’t have any money after he asked (which was the truth) and then stepping out the door only to be immediately asked for money by another person. (I must have an air of money about me. Either that or I look incredibly vulnerable.)

So for this week, I have a tale, woven in real time the most recent Monday night.

I was preparing for a shower, and I had already clambered in when I realized that I had totally zoned out and left my glasses on. I stepped out of the tub with my left foot and stretched over to set my glasses on the counter. That is when all went to hell.

My right knee is fake, a prosthetic joint is installed beneath the tissue. It is not even close to as strong as the right one. I also discovered last March that it will occasionally rotate 90 to the right, meaning that the entire lower leg under my femur will turn to 3 o’clock, something that people have been known to vomit at the sight if it were real bone. The fix is pulling my knee cap up, and then things seem to slide back into place.

This knee turning had only occurred when I would be sitting and then would have lifted my leg up straight.

So there I was, stretching out, I had my right leg behind me for support, straightened. The bathtub was slick, incredibly slick. The increased tension on my joint caused the leg to turn 90 degrees and lock, which is quite an unstable position (not to mention rather painful.) I slipped and fell to the bottom of the shower with a loud crash. I immediately yelled “I’M FINE! I’M OKAY!” Which was a powerful lie. I just was not in the mood to have someone come busting down the door to find my naked self lying on the bottom of the tub.

In a pained daze, still somewhat overcome by the traumatic shock of the whole ordeal, I climbed out of the shower and placed my glasses gently on the counter. (They had not had time to make it to their intended destination).

I then planned on finishing my shower, hoping that the hot water would sooth my aching joint. Then the pain hit me like a truck forcing me to sit on the shower floor. I emitted a silent string of overwhelming profanity. Upon examining my leg I spotted two large bumps that were incredibly firm to the touch. My first reaction was that some metal parts had broken off and were now trying their best to protrude from my skin. Naturally, this realization led to more profanity. I turned the shower off and tenderly toweled off and dressed.

“Seek medical attention.” I muttered as I stepped out of the bathroom, quoting Half-life’s HEV voice. The pain was intense, so I took some pain medication left over from my last surgery. With great trepidation I hobbled over the ice (which now covers all of Seattle). And don’t worry, I was not driving (especially after downing some pain drugs.)

On the way to the emergency room I first realized that I was living out the potential makings for a blog post. The disturbed part of my mind began to envision all of the things that could be wrong with my leg, and how much more interesting that would make a blog post.

My leg x-rayed, and nothing appeared broken or out of place. The doctor suggested that I probably badly sprained it. Nevertheless, I spent about an hour in the ER, totally hopped up on pain meds singing “Fly Like and Eagle.” Overall, it was a good night.

I am now crutching along . . . on crutches, as it hurts to put full weight on my leg. I guess it looks like I will be spending Christmas as “Tiny Tim.”

As in the Dickensian youth, not the crime against humanity.

Noah wrote a post of his own for this week, as we had planned, but the time-lapse video conflicted with it and he graciously gave up his position at the top of the page. So if it would be all good with you, it would be really awesome if you could just scroll down past the end of this one and give his post a look.

I hope you all have a great Christmas (for those of you who celebrate it) and I will be seeing you next Wednesday.

-Nathan

Negligible Nathan sez: “Jeezy Creezy be blessin’ us, all o’ dem bitches.”