I loved SpongBob, and I still do. It’s a funny show even though the latest ones suck because they’re not funny and have too much singing. So as you can imagine I was shocked when I was told that it was accused of being related to homosexuality. First of all, to this day I cannot see a distinct connection, and second of all homosexuality isn’t a bad thing. I have homosexual relatives and they’re the nicest people you could ever meet.

I wonder what was so homosexual about SpongeBob? Was it that SpongeBob and Patrick are such good friends? The fact that they were always causing trouble for Squidward? I just cant see the connection. Maybe it was his voice? But no that can’t be right. It’s just a kids show with a talking sponge. Maybe it was just too groundbreaking; people couldn’t handle a sponge living in a pineapple under the sea. Its just too good, and I guess some people cant take it.

Well, I got Mass Effect 2. The problem was it wouldn’t work. Whenever I started it, nothing would happen. Eventually I had to reinstall Steam which uninstalled all my games. But it works now and that’s all that matters. Despite being a real pain in the ass. Well now all I have to do is beat Mass Effect 1 again because my saved game got erased and I want to upload my progress. It’s not really what you would call ideal circumstances, but hey, there are worse things than having to play Mass Effect again.

Hope you all enjoyed the comic and have a good weekend.

Noah

I am drawing a huge blank for the blog, so I am going to present you with a list of things that traumatized me as a child.

1. A “documentary” about ghosts.

When I was about eight or so, I was visiting cousins in Albany. We watched a show about haunted places in America, with interviews and stories about ghost sightings. This hour led to a deep-rooted fear of ghosts.

2. My first screamer video.

Screamer videos are irritating, certainly. It was maybe, nine or ten at night. I was in my pajamas, probably at age eight. I received an email from my uncle that involved searching a picture for something . . . I am not sure. I was instructed to turn my volume up loud to listen for “whispers.” I stared for about twenty seconds, and then a horrendous scream blasted over the speakers and a black and white face appeared. I remember there being just a moment where I sat back in my chair with my mouth open, and then I began screaming. Our computer was in a loft about eight feet up, I leapt from his height in an attempt to escape the horror.

3. My kindergarten teacher’s description of the digestive system.

My teacher was giving us a (somewhat inaccurate) description of the workings of the digestive system. She described how the small intestine selected what nutrients to absorb. “Ohhh, carrot. SLOOOORP.” She explained with her hands. Her face then grew darkly serious and she spoke of a scenario where the small intestine rejected chocolate. The only thing I can remember her saying was “and the chocolate goes on . . .” with her eyes wide and terrifying. I remember nothing else, but I was deeply concerned about what horrible problems that rejected chocolate could cause.

4. Seeing the cover of Jason Goes To Hell.

I had to be about four or five, and I was looking through videos in Safeway. I was so tender and innocent that all it took was one glance at the cover of a movie to literally induce nightmares.

This is what I saw.

Honestly, I can see why that freaked me out. It is terrifying.

Have a good one,

-Nathan

Did I mention the attempted axe murder?

So anyway, here we are. To tell the truth I don’t have much to say and I haven’t got much time to do it. Not the worst combination possible, but it still ain’t cool. I would like to say two things however.

The first being that The Hurt Locker just came out on DVD. This is a very good movie and is well worth watching. I’m so glad I now have the opportunity to see it again. If you’re reading this you should stand up immediately and forget everything else and make it your mission to check out this movie.

Secondly, the game Mass Effect 2 is coming out real soon. The original Mass Effect is one of my all time favorite games and the second installment looks to be even better. It just can’t come out soon enough.

Well that’s about it, I’m afraid. Hope you all enjoyed the comic.

I apologize for my absence last week, I was just not “feelin’ it.” I felt that portraying a nude Tim running from a bear crying for help officially signaled that the well had officially run dry. Kind of ironic that I would post it again, don’t you think?

I am truly spoiled by Poop in Bed, which exists in an untamed, lawless plain of existence. I established it as a “doodle comic,” which basically means “I don’t have to care if it looks good or not.” Of course I do care, but establishing it as a “doodle comic” has erected solid barriers of confident impenetrability.

Compliment the art? Thanks!

Criticize the art? It’s a doodle comic man, it’s supposed to look that way.

My hands-off approach to the writing is great. I send an email demanding a script. Bam. It comes. The best part, though?

Don’t think it’s funny? Oh well, Joel wrote it.

Think it’s funny? Thanks! I made a few dialog suggestions that really pulled the comic together!

It has officially ruined Good in Theory, which has become a soul-drenched beast that feasts on my physical and mental vitality. I have to actually try to come up with ideas, draw things so they look decent, color, think about backgrounds, and if it is criticized, it is like you are literally raping my soul.

Well, that last part was a bit extreme. Attacks on Good in Theory do feel a bit more personal though.

That is why, friends, you got two Poop in Bed comics last week, and no “real” Good in Theory comics.

I felt I owed you an explanation.

-Nathan

Del yawno.

I apologize, hopefully motivation will return next week.

-Nathan

Enjoy this comic by my friend, Nic Covell. Nic makes his own comic, Media Empire, which is guaranteed to satisfy any pun and really obscure-technical-reference cravings you might have.

Now I get to go back to sleep! Choo choo!

-Nathan

Apart from avoiding bears I tend to read on occasion. Recently I got a book is called The Mongol Art of War and so far it is a very interesting historical account of the Mongol war machine. However I was very disheartened to find that the short text on the back of the book contained two typos. This may seem trivial but for some reason it has taken some of my enjoyment out of reading this book. I just simply have never seen a book with a typo strapped its back. I guess I was under the illusion that books are perfect vessels of absolute correct grammar and spelling. I was wrong. However so far the book is very good and I haven’t seen any more errors. I am clinging to the hope that the absent minded editor forgot to do the cover, or that I got a defective cover guard for my book. This is all very silly but it just takes something out of you when you’re reading a book about a subject you love and an individual who has been accepted to Yale points out that it has two bad grammar errors poking out of the back of that aforementioned book. It just undermines your authority on the book’s subject because people might consider you a fool for buying a volume with such errors. Oh well. It’s nothing really.

Okay, after that rambling I bet y’all want to hear about something interesting?

Well that’s too bad because I’m done, yo.

Hope everyone liked the comic.

Noah

Friends, this is the fear that a murderer is going to appear in the short moment in which I am washing my face. I will fumble with my eyes closed for a towel, dry my face off and look up into the mirror. There I will see the murderer standing in the shower with a terrifying Halloween mask on and he will take that moment to lunge forward and kill me.

This was a serious concern. My fear of the dark continued until about the embarrassing age of 12. Now that I think back on it, this fear wasn’t totally unreasonable. Every night I would descend into the solid blackness that is the Alaskan winter night. There I would walk about 100 feet from my lighted house into what was essentially a blackened wood. There I would ladle food out to the dogs, all the while humming nervously, most certain that something was lurking just beyond my periphery into the woods, tracking the motions of my headlamp.

The worst part was the walk (see: terrified sprint) back to the safety of the house, as whatever was stalking me in the woods would realize that this was its last chance to descend upon me and rip my frantically beating heart from my chest.

While I have been able to defeat these phobias (by never closing my eyes or going outside past 5), one phobia remains.

MOVIE PUPPETS

Okay, so not all of those are puppets, but I hope it makes sense. Those things are terrifying TO THIS DAY.

CGI creatures, they either look real, or they look like they are CGI. I can handle that. They do not exist, or they look like they are actual creatures. Puppets, on the other hand, are inanimate objects that talk and move. They always move really slowly, or too stiffly. Their eyes blink awkwardly, and they stare, lifelessly out. It’s like they are possessed by some supernatural entity that just wants to LIVE.

Look at this clip from The Never Ending Story (a movie guilty of much childhood trauma).

To clarify, I am not afraid of marionettes, dummies, dolls, or muppets. Just these creepy . . . latex things that BLINK.

I am going to go hide under the covers now.

-Nathan

I can’t breathe under here.

I remembered a great deal of emphasis was given to a specific substance one was supposed to bathe in during my time in elementary school, but I couldn’t remember what it was. I remembered it was some sort of condiment like mayonnaise or mustard, but as it turned out I was incorrect and it is supposedly tomato juice.

Whether it’s supposed to be real tomato juice or ketchup I have no clue, but I can’t imagine taking a bath in either. I mean where are you going to get that many tomatoes? It’s sounds kind of unrealistic to me and at this point I can only tolerate bathing in water. Not milk, not mayonnaise and most certainly not tomato juice. However I guess I wouldn’t mind diving into a tub of chocolate.

Moving on I saw a movie called Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans. It’s the latest film by award-winning director, Werner Herzog.

The movie itself is hard to pin down because it seems to be part crime drama, part dark comedy and part commentary on drug addiction and crime. It’s a surprisingly complex film with Nicolas Cage giving a good performance for a change. I’m glad to say he breaks his poor acting trend with this film, I would say it’s his best performance since Lord of War.

He plays an out-of-his-mind junkie New Orleans police lieutenant by the name of Terrence McDonagh. The film also features some other interestingly exuberant and spastic characters such as Big Fate played by Xzibit. All these crazy characters are thrown in a post-Katrina New Orleans with a flourishing underworld (a great setting for a movie). The city itself acts as a character in the film, influencing every dynamic of the movie. It’s a very unique picture with unforgettable characters and a solid and vibrant story. All in all it’s incredibly ballsy and in-your-face nutty but it doesn’t feature the mind bending action required to give you action junkies out there your movie high. In the end it won’t please the members of the frat house but for all you movie buffs out there its worth looking into.

In addition I must give one more movie recommendation, The Hurt Locker starring Jeremy Renner is one of the best dramatizations of the Iraq War in film today. It may even the best war movie out there (and yes that includes Saving Private Ryan). I tend to overhype things a bit but I can assure you there’s nothing I can say that can overhype this movie. Its cinematography, writing, soundtrack, and acting is spot on and make for a glorious crescendo of slick filmmaking. It’s a must-see for film enthusiasts if you aren’t afraid of depictions of wartime violence and profanity.

Before I go I have a trailer for what looks to be a very funny and fascinating film by the name of Black Dynamite, a humorous tribute to Blaxploitation films like Shaft and Superfly. It looks to be dreadfully funny, take a look.

So, I know I told you I was going to get you a post yesterday . . . but that fell through. It’s alright though, as you probably

1. Didn’t notice.
2. Didn’t care.
3. Wasn’t even aware this site had a blog.

Honestly, it just fell through. I am not going to lie, I was busy all morning and afternoon and I felt my entire evening feeling terrible and playing Assassin’s Creed II for multiple hours.

My dad even offered to write the post . . . and he did, kind of. He didn’t finish it though, and at the end he didn’t want me to post it. I thought it was fine . . . but I guess he did talk about Preparation H and “lolled” over the unfortunate name of my other comic, Poop in Bed. I enjoyed it.

My plan for yesterday was, in essence, to describe to you a camping trip that Noah accompanied me and my family on oh-so-many-years ago. I would love to say that Good in Theory, or as it was known at the time “Gamer Candy,” was conceived on this trip inside our shared tent . . . but for some reason the tent circumstances and word choice make me uncomfortable.

Anyways, all throughout living and growing up in Alaska, my family went camping. My parents were wild, untamed beasts who craved the outdoors, constantly encouraging me to go outside. I never really saw the point as there was nothing for me to do outside that was not some kind of labor. My parents always advocated sledding, which might be considered fun and exciting to people living in places that do not receive a thick, yearly blanketing of snow, and did not live at the bottom of a hill. I always considered the walk up the hill to be particularly discouraging.

I did enjoy camping though, as it combined my slothful nature with being outdoors . . . I would sometimes bring my Game boy, and combine a favorite indoor activity, with a semi-outdoor (I was in a tent after all) activity, that typically kept parental scorn at a somewhat tolerable low.

Anyways, Noah moved to Portland somewhere in late 2005, and came up in the summer of 2006 for a . . . two or three week visit. This was a summer that I hold high in my list of summers as it was essentially the last summer I ever officially had, and it contained enough epic adventure and fond memories to fill a quarter of a lifetime.

Not just because of Noah’s visit, I went to Italy and Greece in a class trip, and my mother and father worked so I was partaking in A LOT of computer games.

Er . . . my standards for “epic” can be kind of low at times.

Anyways, Noah came up that summer, and we spent a good portion of the time playing a combination of Resident Evil 4 and Oblivion until the extreme early hours of the morning. My parents did take us on a trip camping in some mosquito and bear infested portion of the state.

I don’t even remember a whole bunch about the trip, except for watching Land of the Dead, 28 Days Later, Dawn of the Dead (2004), Shaun of the Dead, Day of the Dead, and the original Dawn of the Dead on the DVD player (which was hot shit at the time). We like zombies is what I want you to walk away with.

We camped and hiked, I remember that much. There was also a bike ride of relative length that was probably what I remember best about the trip (it’s possible I only imagined watching some of those zombie movies at that time).

It began with putting our Schipperke in a milk crate connected to a short leash. At one point she jumped from the basket, attempting to hang herself quite efficiently. This was somewhat horrifying, but I unsnapped her collar and saved her from . . . you know . . . death.

We biked along, and at some point, Noah fell behind. A car passed us three, but stopped for Noah, who was a ways back. They informed him of a bear up ahead on the road. Noah cried out to us with alarm, alerting us to the several hundred pound predator potentially lurking ahead . . . of which the driver had only seen fit to inform Noah.

This has been an incredibly boring blog post, but I feel somewhat accomplished for writing it? It’s better than nothing . . . just barely.

-Nathan