There is a lot of news in the world, and, honestly, I don’t pay attention to most of it. Fictional stories, be they on television or on the movie screen or in books or in comics, are used to take up most of my brain. One might say this is kind of unfortunate, as, while fiction has kept me entertained and helped keep my goofy brain from attacking me with annoying thoughts, there this a whole darn world filled with events and goings on and people and things and stuff out there. A lot is happening in this world, and I live on this world, so I should know what the heck is up, right?

This lead to me turning on CNN every morning instead of DOCTOR WHO DVDs before leaving for work as well as listening to NPR instead of rock ‘n roll while driving to said work. While I’ve always been obstensibly liberal and figure we should take care of the environment and each other and various other kind of “bleeding heart” beliefs like that, I thought I should learn a bit more about what it all might mean kinda sorta.

After a few weeks of news watching, my vague political views make even more sense to me than before… I mean, okay, I still rarely understand what’s going on, but the left is still where I lean.

Left, right, or middle, though… holy crap is the world a mess.

For fifty-eight days I’ve been hearing about an oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. At first it was a tragic explosion that took the lives of eleven men. That’s horrible, yet it somehow continues to get worse as the magnitude of what’s resulting from that explosion becomes clearer. BP’s drilling snafu is spilling oil out into the ocean, but not that much. No worries. That’s what I first heard. Now, almost two months later, it’s the greatest environmental disaster in the USA’s history. As I type this, President Obama is meeting with BP big wigs for the first time over who is going to pay for all this attempted clean up. It’s a mess.

And there’s more?

Six earthquakes in Indonesia last night? Yeah, just saw about that as I was typing, and– Oh, one in Alaska, too. And there was flooding in Oklahoma yesterday. And a big ol’ Jesus statue was struck by lightening in Ohio! JESUS! And it’s not just all environmental or spiritual — turns the economy is in the toilet, too! Yeah, mm hm. I mean, I mean, I mean.. so much is happening, and… oh crap… did you know we’re in, like, TWO wars???

And I STILL don’t understand the freaking stock market!

Part of me wants to go back to DOCTOR WHO and rock ‘n roll in the morning. Just shut my brain off from all of this. Won’t make it go away, though.

So, I’m getting informed. Now what? What can I do as kinda middle class, absurdly in debt, fairly lazy dreamer who really just wants to write funny books and watch the TV when I’m not sleeping?

I guess that’s the next step…

Boy oh boy, it’s been a long time since I’ve posted on this site. WHO do I think I am? WHAT have I been doing? WHEN will I start writing more regularly? WHERE have I been? And WHY have I been WHERE ever I’ve been and WHAT was I doing there and WHO was I with? There are several theories, but I’m not sure if any of them are true…

1. In the over two months since I wrote my last post, I just started living like a rockstar. For no logical reason, as I am not, in fact, a star of rock. Irregardless, the regular sociatal norms ceased to pertain to me, which lead to booze (okay, cough syrup), drugs, leather pants, and some unbelievable karate adventures.

2. I decided to give back to my community. Unfortunately, instead of behaving like a regular human, perhaps volunteering at a soup kitchen or cleaning the side of a highway or building some houses, I figured my best contribution would be to become a costumed vigalante. This has to do probably with my love of comics and lack of brain logic. I’ve just now been released from the ICU. Sadly, those punks still got that old lady’s purse. And my “Super D.J.” costume is a damn mess.

3. A steady stream of Kraft Mac & Chee. Just shoveling that stuff in my maw for two damn months. Overdose on orange cheese powder. The amount of margerine in my bloodstream is unheard of, and I’m lucky to be alive. If can you call this mac & cheese delirium living.

4. All of the above.

5. None of the above.

Yeah, I’m keeping it all mysterious like. One things for sure, though: I need to redesign this site some. It’s so ugly. Another thing’s for sure, though, also: redesigning my little-known website would be such a waste of time when there are so many more productive things I should be doing. (Comic book pitches, Ninja Poetry Book writing, weapons training, gold lamé pants shopping.)

But I just wanted to check in, since I’m still paying for this URL and all that. Maybe next time I’ll write about SOMEthing.

Love,

D.J.

Today all of us working on the POPGUN anthologies got some great news: POPGUN Volume 3 received a 2010 Eisner nomination for Best Anthology! Thanks to the 2010 Eisner Judging Panel! Hi fives are due to the editorial team I was lucky enough to work with on this volume: Mark Andrew Smith, Adam P. Knave, Thomas Mauer, Fonografiks, and Joe Keatinge — as well as the fine folks at Image Comics.

And, obviously, we wouldn’t have had a book to put together without the following amazingly talented creators who let us print their awesome comics in the book! Thanks so much and congrats to… (deep breath)…

Alison Acton, Joshua Agerstrand, Laura Allred, Anjin Anhut, Kris Anka, Amanda Becker, Peter Bergting, Patricio Betteo, Danilo Beyruth, Sam Bosma, Dan Brereton, Olaf Brill, Dennis Brown, Antonio Campo, Dominique Carrier, Celor, Jim Charalampidis, Bobby Clark, Ryan Cody, Dave Collinson, Dave Curd, Tim Daniel, Mike Dawson, Ben DeRosa, Michael Dialynas, JEIK Dion, Juan Doe, Becky Dreistadt, Nathan Edmondson, Ulises Farinas, Ray Fawkes, Gary Fields, Frank Gibson, Vassilis Gogtzilas, Zac Gorman, George Gousis, Paul Grist, Scott Hallett, Jason Hanley, David Hopkins, Jason Ibarra, Joëlle Jones, Janet Kim, Nic Klein, Peter Krause, Edward Kwong, Erik Larsen, Robbie Lawrence, Johann “Ullcer” Leroux, Maximo V. Lorenzo, Thomas Mauer, Dylan McCrae of SatteliteSoda.com, Derek McCulloch, Sam McKenzie, Tara McPherson, Alberto Mielgo, Robb Mommaerts, Paul Montgomery, Chris Moreno, Matt Moylan, Ralph Niese, Anthony Nixon, Josh Parpan, Jeff Powell, Isam Prado, Justin Randall, Stephen Reedy, Jamie S. Rich, Rachelle Rosenberg, David Rubin, Matteo Scalera, Douglas E. Sherwood, Guillaume Singelin, Eric Skillman, ericstephenson, Alisa Stern, Amy Stern, Chris Stevens, Frank Stockton, Andre Szymanowicz, Gregory Titus, Ron Turner, Christian Ward, Daniel Warner, Connor Willumsen, Brian Winkeler, Michael Woods, Derek Yu, K.I. Zachopoulos, Tonci Zonji, Jim Zubkavich — way to go, team!

In this city I live in, this City of Angels, most can agree the one thing we DEFINITELY have going for us is the weather. Sunshine, folks. Almost all the time. I started taking it for granted until I visited Ohio and West Virginia in the dead of winter. Freezing with piles of snow and icicles the size of midgets, ready to fall off a building and impale you any minute? No thanks.

In those states to the middle and the east, the weather people on the TV actually have useful jobs. Whereas here it’s usually a ridiculously tight shirt wearing lady with super fake breasts talking to some old man in a suit behind a desk about how it’ll be mild and sunny everyday, in places where the weather changes, one has to really pay attention to what their less surgically endowed weather sayers have to say.

So, yeah, it’s ridiculous to complain about this, but that ball of fire in the sky, that orb that keeps things bright and warm here in LA, is getting a bit pushy. Today, wandering the sidewalks in my black General Zod tee shirt (yeah, I’m stylish), my body started reacting to the heat emenating from the sky. I don’t know what the temperature is in numbers, but my body is telling me it’s a little hot. Already. It’s March.

Maybe it’s just an especially warm weekend. I hope. While Summer is swell and all, I’m not a huge fan of shorts or the other fashions necessitated by the increase in heat. Flip flops? No thanks. Tank tops? I prefer to hide my lack of guns. But my preferred long pants and shoes style choices are clearly about to become problematic again.

Because I hate sweating.

Now, I didn’t break a sweat out there today… but I could feel it coming on. If I’d stayed out longer? My body’s faulty cooling system (because, really, there’s got to be a better biological way for humans to stay cool other than sweating salty, odor producing water from our pours) would’ve surely kicked in.

So, Sun, why not relax? We’re good here, in LA. Bright, clear days and mild temperatures are just fine. Why not go help those folks in the Midwest and East Coast and leave things here as they’ve been for the past few months, eh? K, thanks.

I love to write. It’s so fun. Creating a story, whole worlds sometimes out of nowhere, just using words. Lines and squiggly things — letters — put together to make words. It’s kind of amazing… and weird. And ridiculous.

And often really hard.

Hm… I hate to write sometimes. When I’m racking my brain to come up with a plot or just something interesting to say. Writing is all well and good, but you have to write something worth reading, right? But lots of people have different ideas as to what is worth reading. Heck, I don’t even know why I read what I read sometimes. I guess if it’s something that someone is willing to stare at until all the words run out, then it was worth writing, right?

Do I have something to say? Well, yeah… I mean, maybe not always some amazing truth or some passionate cause or occurrence that I feel really needs to be expressed, that might really resonate with a reader or whatever. But just thinking something is funny or wacky or might make someone laugh, maybe brighten their day — that is worth it, too, right?

Of course, after writing one has to get the story in front of the eyes that will be doing the reading. The internet, blogs like this one and whatnot, has made that much easier. Still not effortless, though. I used to think that being published in print was the end goal. If I write something that some company is willing to put on paper and bind together and make into a book — boom. Success! I’m done!

Not true. Sure, some writers reach a certain point when the publisher or an agency or magical fairies will take care of the getting the work out to the readers for them, but that’s rare. And even then, lots of authors blog and Tweet and set up interviews and appearances and tour on their own to let people know their work is out.

I guess it’s never as simple as just writing until I hit “the end” and then that’s it.

Honestly, this has become the hard part. How do I get the word out effectively without becoming a pest? And might all this time talking, blogging, Tweeting, Friendstering (I kid) about my writing be best spent actually writing new stories?

It’s all so confusing. Hm… and perhaps not worth writing about, really. Oops.

Writing… freaking writing. Crap. I just can’t help it.