Greatest Batman Cover

"Awesome..."
--Nick Lowe, 1984.

Just checking the true fans of the Bat for their thoughts. DC's Batman Archives contained my favorite Batman cover (from Batman #20, 1943).

What do you think?

I am not sure how politically correct this one is, however.

Batman has obviously endangered Robin and broken at least two laws. First, Robin is way too young to be driving, I mean with the size of the Batmobile on this one, Robin has to be standing up--and judging by his expression, he is frightened.

The other law Batman breaks is child endangerment--I mean those aren't bird droppings on the windshield.

We can assume that Batman is fighting some fairly stupid baddies as this action was taking place--I mean, doesn't it make more sense to shoot the DRIVER rather than the passinger?

One has to admit, what a great cover. The action of the car, the expression on Batman's face, the sense of fear one can see in Robin, the red stripe on the Batmobile, the car coming through the cover. This is a fairly famous cover, as I have it on a T-Shirt. There is action and a sense of innocence on this one, and it speaks to the character of Batman as a tough guy who is ready to face death (whether it is bullet holes or a 12 year old's inability to drive) to protect all of us weaker mortals.

Go Batman(!), as this one is timeless. Feel free to add your votes for favorite Batman cover.

Oh that Christmas Beer is A' Brewin'

“And if I get drunk well, I'll pass out
On the floor now baby
You won't bother me no more
she said,it's okay boy
'cause you know we'll be go friends and I say
I think I'll have myself a beer
I think I'll have myself a beer”

--Reel Big Fish, from the song “Beer” from the LP Turn The Radio Off, 1995.

Well my beer taste buds are back. Fat Jacks—see link on the right—offers a ferken (check spelling) from various breweries each month. The first was from Schlafley’s in St. Louis and was the American Pale Ale. The second was from Bell’s—soon to be outlawed in Illinois like New Glarius was (evil bastards)—and was their Two-Hearted Ale. Two IPA’s like beers. I want some wheat.

Beer was the last thing I wanted after surgery, but six weeks after it, the taste came back. I love a good beer. With that in mind, I will be hosting the twelve beers of Christmas for the Humane Society. We have some great choices, so we encourage people to come out.

Just a quick note, as you can see my Uncle and me quaffing a beverage for the evening in the scan, and we recommend a nice little bit of the wee roasted, malted flavor.

Winter beers are by far my favorite (well, the exception of the good old wheat variety), and I love the spice of them all.

In the past, the twelve beers have included Samiklaus—an 18 proof beer from Norway. They have also included Delerium Noel, Jubblefest, and more. Christmas/Strong seasonal beers for the cold, dank and dark months of the year seems to go hand-in-hand.

How I love them.

I plan on drinking my one bottle of Samiklaus from 2003 after the Bears win the Super Bowl.

Ahh…ambrosia--following the Super Bowl win--which could happen this year--I say it is justified.

Hoppy Holidays to Ales…and to Ales a Guten Nacht!

A Cat Psychology Experiment

“For taking and for giving
and for playing the game,
For praying for my future
in the days that remain…
Oh lord,
For that I hold you.

For crying out loud,
You know I love you.
For crying out loud,
You know I love you.
For crying out loud,
You know I love you.”

--Jim Steinman and Meatloaf from “For Crying Out Loud” from the album Bat Out Of Hell, 1977.

I can imagine if he could sing, Dylan would cut loose to Pam on the above lyrics from Meatloaf. He truly has bonded with her.

That noted: I have to laugh at poor old Dylan.

Pam left for an overnight trip and I was voted caretaker of the cats—Cattaker I suppose. Foggy hides upstairs per her usual self. Guinness hung out with me for the most part. Dylan, well poor old Dylan was lonely. I thought I would make an attempt to bond with him.

If one pets Dylan’s head and stops, he usually meows and bats the person on the leg as if to say “Keep going, you are not finished.” I scratched his head and he turned away from me.

Usually if one scratches under his chin, Dylan purrs and cranes his neck. With his back turned, I scratched his chin, he started to purr, and then looked back to see it was me and stopped purring and went upstairs.

I discovered him lying on a pile of clothes that I had not brought downstairs. (Sorry, I am a bit of slob in this area when Pam’s not home). I then took the pile and separated it—my clothes and Pam’s clothes.

Dylan then went to my pile, sniffed, walked over to the other pile, sniffed, and proceeded to lie down on Pam’s clothes.

He then closed his eyes and fell asleep—I touched his throat as he slept, and found him purring.

Many folks do not think that an animal will choose among the people in its milieu, but the animals frankly do.

Dylan is more at ease with Pam and more “used” to her. I feed him the special food he likes, but I also am the one who gives him pills. I do not honestly believe that matters much though.

Dylan has formed a tight bond with Pam, as tight as Guinness has formed with me. He follows Pam wherever she goes and looks for her when she is not here. I am glad for him and for her. She wanted a quiet cat that needed to be needed. He wanted a stable person that had a sixth sense about his personality. Pam understands cats better than anyone, and she has a gentle nature about them. I am not jealous or particularly disappointed.

Dylan discovered what I have always known—Pam is a loving and caring person who is very special to all those around her.

Words Can Hurt...The Bears That Is

“I'm a runaway train on broken track,
I'm a ticker on a bomb,
You can't turn back--this time,
That's right,
I got away with it all, and I'm still alive
Let the end of the world come tumbling down,
I'll be the last man standing on the ground.
As long as Hot blood runs through my veins,
I'm still alive…”

I’m Alive by Meatloaf from Bat Out Of Hell III—The Monster Is Loose, 2006

Comments and words hurt, people.

Let me explain:

I was buying groceries on Sunday before the Bears game, and this person who I have never seen came up to me and growled “Urlacher….dude.” Seriously, he growled it and stretched it out as if to say “Urrrrlachhhherrrrrrrrrrrr, Dude.”

Ok, buddy—have a nice day and lay off the spiced pickles and cooking sherry.

So then the BEARS lost, and I heard it at work.

“They Suck…” said a few of the kids. Wow, I am so offended that people raise their children to say vulgar things. It is good thing my parents did not do that.

I wore a Dolphin tie as a penalty for a lost bet with a good friend on staff.

I owe a kid a two liter of Mountain Dew.

I had people come up to me and say “This is like 1985…this means they will win the Super Bowl.”

Ok, I believe a bit that history repeats itself, but not like that. Folks, the Bears play two more games like they just did, and I swear that they will not “go to the Super Bowl.”

In any event, take your shots now, folks. When the Bears win the next three games because they refocused, you people will come up to me and growl “Urrrrlachhhherrr” again and high five me. When they prove they are unstoppable, you will cheer with me and claim you “were always a Bear fan.” When they take apart the NFC, you will claim “they are a team of destiny.”

And if not—if they lose the next three games or so, you will taunt me, tell me they suck, and you will all turn into Cub fans as you shout the mantra “Just wait until next year.”

God, I hope the Bears win!

The Devil Made Me Do It...The Republican Shell Game

“The night was black was no use holding back
'Cos I just had to see was someone watching me
In the mist dark figures move and twist
Was this all for real or some kind of hell
666 the number of the beast
Hell and fire was spawned to be released…”

Iron Maiden—Number of the Beast, 1982.

OK, let’s try this one on for a moment:

Ted Haggard steps down from his post and is then booted from his church for allegedly having sex with another man and buying and consuming drugs. Haggard admits to paying for a massage from the man, and for buying, but not ingesting the drugs.

Uh-huh.

Even if I believe that (which by the way I do not), Haggard is guilty of misconduct for a Minister of the New Life Church. I am curious what recognized denomination is, in case anyone knows—we do not have “New Life” churches in my area. I am assuming this is “Born Again Christian.” Which is fine and dandy, but I am honestly curious what this church stands for.

Haggard says he was a counselor for President Bush in religious matters as well as the President of the National Association of Evangelical Ministers. That strikes me as a relatively powerful position for someone—someone who is there would not be using mets, but maybe he needed something to stay awake.

In any event, this guy is vigorously anti-Gay, but is pro-taking massages from other males and paying for them.

Now I will not take unneeded potshots at this guy, except in the article I read, the last few lines blew me away as far as hypocrisy goes. Here it is: Church member Christine Rayes, 47, said the congregation had hoped the allegations "were all lies." "We all have to move forward now," she said. "This doesn't make what Ted accomplished here any less. The farther up you are, the more you are a target for Satan."

Oh COME ON! You blind sheep.

So now everything I do is the fault of Satan. Please remember that.

I forget to call my mother—SATAN!

I yell at a student in class—SATAN!

I eat too much fat foods—SATAN!

I decide to go cheap and not buy people gifts and hoard my money—blame THE DARK PRINCE—SATAN!

I cuss—SATAN is making me say those God Damn words—oops, felt “Satanic” for a moment.

I bark at the neighborhood kids—it is the work of (you guessed it) SATAN!

I drink too much—SATAN is pushing that bottle down my throat.

I fart in public—SATAN gave me gas.

I flip off a driver on the road—well it’s not me, it is SATAN who is pissed.

Personal responsibility be hanged, because we all know that SATAN is hanging around waiting to lure us with same sex massages and drugs and all the evil we do.

What a load of crap—and the Republicans even have to be ducking this one.

Will it matter when we vote on Tuesday? No, I assume not, but if the Republicans lose the House and the Senate…well you know whose fault it is, don’t you?

That’s right—it was all SATAN’s doing.