Just yesterday I was talking about how the new lifestyle seems to be so much healthier for me than my old one.

This morning I woke to that scratchy, post-nasal-drip feeling that says “you need Vitamin C NOW,” and had chills all morning until we turned the heat up. Since my office is the warmest part of the house anyway (the addition of waste heat from the CPU, printer, and monitors in a small space is what does it) we knew something was wrong.

Oh, and I haven’t been able to get anything done. Fuzzy in the head, kind of. I mean, I can write THIS, but it’s not going to be clever, or funny, or anything. Just a journal entry.

I took a 90-minute nap and felt a little better. I’m packing the Vitamin C every hour. I’m taking it easy.

*sigh*

Working for yourself means nobody pays you when you’re sick. I WILL get better tomorrow, out of sheer economic necessity and force of will.

–Howard

During the week WinXP SP2 automatically “upgraded” its built-in “firewall” and broke FTP for me. I couldn’t upload comics or Open Letters without either using another computer (which I did — I colored and uploaded 2 weeks’ worth on Friday and Saturday) or, as I discovered this evening, disabling Windows Firewall.

The exceptions menu includes FTP, and exceptions are enabled — I really don’t see what, other than a bug in M$ code, could be causing this. For now the firewall is back on, and I know how to turn it off when there’s work to be done.

*sigh*

–Howard

ps. Don’t recommend Linux to me, you bozos. I require Photoshop in order to get my job done (not some cheesy-lame GIMPy substitute), and so I must run either Windows or MacOS. Right now I can’t afford to re-purchase everything for the Mac, so its Windows or nothing.

link.

To paraphrase inaccurately:

Iceberg B15A, 1200 square miles of frozen surreal-estate, has been predicted to attempt the world’s first observed “reverse calving,” by slamming into the Drygalski Ice Tongue as if to return to the iceberg womb (forget that this particular womb is not the one that spawned it for a moment), but it keeps not happening.

The collision is supposed to be a slow-mo spectacular, and though nobody knows what will happen, they HOPE that it’ll open up some space for icebreakers (the ships, not the party games) to get through to Antarctic stations.

You need some ice cleared? Well, since Human Waste Heat is NOT at the root of the global warming trends (waste HEAT, I said), I recommend applying large amounts of heat to this iceberg very, very quickly. Let’s find out what the hydrostatic effects are of bunker-buster missles. Will the overpressure of a MOAB or Daisycutter be sufficient to crack something that large? Do we have any space rocks handy we can drop on it?

COME ON, people. Sitting around and watching the ice floe is not spectacular, even in slo-mo, if it’s grounded. “There are very few problems that cannot be solved through the suitable application of high explosives.” I’m sure that the race of beings which chopped, bored, and blasted a gap between North and South America a century ago can figure out how to cut up a wee ice cube.

Just be sure to get it on film, okay?

–Howard

Well, I just scripted 8 days of Schlock Mercenary in one sitting. It’s pretty grueling work, you know.

It may not SOUND like much, but the strictures I place on this comic, especially surrounding plot points like I’ve got going right now, make it dang difficult.

The goal: explain a complex spatial/hyperspatial puzzle in one week’s worth of scripts, thus moving the plot forward.
The hurdles: only four panels on weekdays, punchlines required every day, and no out-of-character cabbaging.
The result: I had to add a Sunday strip to the end of the mini-arc to get everything said, but it all came out pretty nicely. I still need to sit down with Chalain (who cannot be bribed to reveal what he knows, so don’t try) and make sure it scans well, but it passed the Sandra test.

I’ve got two weeks of coloring queued up in front of me, and now there are eight days of scripts awaiting my inky-sloppy ministrations. It’s time to get busy, even though it feels like I’ve been busy ALL DAY.

–Howard