Q. Can you call a web comic 'science'? It seems like a broad term.

A. First of all, it's Sci-ənce, with a schwa. Second, I'm pretty sure that by now science has entered the public domain.

Q. So, what will happen to this site?

A. The Bard will remain my online portfolio for all things artsy fartsy, while Sci-ənce becomes the depository for web comics, commentary, and merchandising. 

Q. What about your older comics?

A. Not sure yet. I might keep some of the better ones and toss them into the mix somewhere, otherwise, that section of the site will be disassembled. Man, that sounds official.

Q. So we won't be seeing anymore posts on how douchebags ruin everything here anymore?

A. Yeah, I send potential clients here. It was harshing my buzz. Or whatever the douchebags say these days.

Q. What's up with the ads?

A. You mean the Gravy Train? It had to happen sooner or later, I like money, but I never liked the idea of having ads blasting readers in the face, especially on my portfolio. I still don't like the idea, really, and I will be fine tuning them to keep your reading experience pleasant. I'm actually hoping for some really goofy google ads to take screenshots of and make fun of. Send them in if you see any!

I feel like the last few times I have ranted about something (on Facebook rather than my blog, regrettably) it has been about news media dropping the ball and performing gross journalistic negligence. LA Missile anyone? Here was an incident where a helicopter pilot saw a perfectly explainable optical illusion, and the media RAN WITH IT ALL. THE. WAY.

Meanwhile, while government analysts were doing the journalists job of analyzing and researching possible explanations, news media cried "MISSILE! MISSILE!". Granted the government agencies took OMG WAY TOO LONG to get back to the news media, the solution is not to fill air time with useless, misinformed conjecture. Good Job, asshats.

Anyway, this is what the experts came up with:

1. Said object is moving far too slow. The helicopter pilot filmed for TEN MINUTES. What a crappy missile.
2. The plume did not expand as it gained 'altitude', as rockets and missiles actually do.
3. This has happened before.

So in the end, "Oops! Just an optical illusion." No apologies, no follow-up stories. People probably still think it was a missile. 

But Hey, remember when that NYC artist made a big stink because her McDonald's hamburger wouldn't rot? Remember how everybody cried that McD's burgers must be made out of plastic or 'chemicals'?

Well, sorry media sensationalists. The science says differently.

J. Kenji Lopez-Alt of Seriouseats.com's Burger Lab was quick to tackle this uninformed phenomemon head on.  He systematically separated all the variables in the experiment. Bun types, burger weight, climate, etc and mixed the elements to rule out any possibilites that could slew the data (ie. McD's buns create a preservative force field).  His results were predictable to anybody who has ever eaten beef jerky or made a dried apple doll head. Neither grow mold because mold requires a warm, damp environment to grow. Not a dry, climate controlled one. But again, do we see an equally large media follow-up? Nah, course not. That would serve to educate the masses. Can't have that.

McDonalds, for all its evil, corporate ways, does list the ingredients in its food, which is no different from anything bought in a supermarket, and does not make its burgers out of plastic or 'chemicals'.

(News flash:  Everything is made up of chemicals. Water is a chemical, salt is a chemical. Turning the word 'chemical' into a weasel word is a HUGE pet peeve of mine.)

The TL;DR? A 'normal' burger of identical size and weight will react the same as a McDonalds burger under the same conditions. Both will mold if given proper humidity, and both will dry and dessicate under the right conditions.  The "LA Missile" was neither in LA, nor was it a Missile. It was a jet flying towards LA over the pacific ocean.

For example, attached to this post are two self portraits. On the left, a scrubby, bearded post collegiate, and on the right, a sharp, bespectacled young man. Mind you, most of these differences are in self-perception. I still put off shaving unless there is a special occasion and I am more prone to wearing a t-shirt than a suit. Mostly because my job demands work-clothes. Damn, I would love to be able to wear a sharp suit to work. Except if I worked from home this suit would almost look like a pair of boxer shorts. Just barely though.

I love my new glasses, with their hip flair and the power of Second Sight that they grant me. They allow me to see just how terrible I looked before. Those who frequent the blog will be happy to hear that my hair is at a comfortable length now. No longer scoffing at gravity and falling nicely into place in an all too sexy tousled mess.

All in all, I'm happy with the new me, and I request you all update your mental pictures accordingly. Especially Nadir, whose mental image of me probably still involves a pudgy, shorn face and an adult diaper. Ugh. College.

Tonight is the eve of the New SuperEgo Video Super Shorts! Starting tomorrow, a new animated sketch will be released every two weeks. TWO WEEKS?!  Oh those clever bastards know how to parse out a good time.

Just as we are forgetting the delicious morsel of new content so generously doled out the week before, BAM. New episode.  I write this now in preparation for the possibility that the short I animated this spring is the first one released! –And ohhhh man. Possibility is the mother of motivation.

I uploaded new artwork, I spiffed up my twitter page, and look, I'M BLOGGING. All this in anticipation for the influx of visitors to my digital realms brought on by the fact that a short animated piece of my creation will be available for wide audience viewing on several super, super popular websites.

What websites you ask? Well, the Video Super Shorts will be viewable on:

• goSuperego.com
• iTunes
• F-F-FUNNYORDIE.COM
• Youtube
• And more!

I am full of excitement, and people who see my video will show up here and bear witness to my noobish, amateur glee, but I'm not sure I mind all that much. So stay tuned!

The other day Audrey handed me a monster specimen of a cherry tomato and warned me not to choke on it. The first image that came to me was what you see in the most recent comic. The thought of some oxymoronically sized nightshade being eaten in the completely wrong manner was too good not to draw. The comic was also an interesting study in the sense that I've never drawn Audrey as a cartoon before. She didn't complain, so mission accomplished. Now if only she'd let me repost the Victorian corset-clad portrait I did of her way back.

I still haven't eaten the tomato in question. It really is pretty big- almost normal tomato sized. I don't even know where to start. Biting into it conjures images of John Noble's character King Denethor feasting alone in a great hall, amidst a battle where his own son rides to his demise. While a hobbit serenades in the background, the king ravenously eats scraps of food, which includes some cherry tomatoes, the sloppy juice running down his chin. Every time I see John Noble or a goddamn cherry tomato, I think of this scene and I shudder a little.

It took me a whole season to get over it watching Fringe. 

Granted, most of my meals are eaten above the kitchen sink in my boxers at odd intervals during the day. Like 3pm and 1:50am. But to just bite into it and risk chin dribble? Barbaric.

My other option is to break out cutlery to carve up the gargantuan vine-fruit, which just seems like it's too much. Using cutlery on hand-held foods is reserved for Chipotle burritos, and it smacks of snobbery. Because what's important, when in my boxers at the kitchen sink, is that I don't seem elitist. Its like when Mickey Mouse, in his Jack and the Beanstalk story, wherein the poor bastards only had one bean to eat and they portioned it into transparent slices. Pathetic.

Scratching these two methods off the list pretty much leaves one option: swallowing the whole thing. This is clearly the desperate move of a man stymied by his preconceived notions of how not to eat, decided by memories of old cartoons and fantasy epics. John Noble really did ruin tomatoes for me. Godammit.

Eddie found himself next on my list of subjects. I opted to use a softer brush to bring out how pretty and regal he is. The man practically glows in the greased lens of his majestic life. YAWN. Though I do think I hit the mark. A bit more stylized than I'd like, but he really does have saucer eyes.

Now I just have to combine my two feline subjects into the most flattering, yet ridiculous portrait ever. I'm worried that the two styles will clash, but they already have this Yin-Yang thing going on.

What with Eddie being a white cat with conventionally perfect features and cool composure, while Ferdinand represents the flawed, primal side; frantic and wild in nature. The portrait itself will be hyperbolic in its mockery of the whole photo-portrait genre. Some of you may know where this is going, the rest will have to wait.  

In the meantime, here's Ron Livingston, the reason I don't sleep anymore. 

I just can't stop hitting repeat!

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In case it is not immediately apparent, the man pictured, due to some circumstance which is depriving him of breathable air, has inserted a siphon past the water trap of his toilet in order to tap his plumbing for sweet, sweet oxygen. You know this guy is thinking, 

"Genius! I'll just breathe poo gas until this fire/sarin gas cloud blows over!" 

But you KNOW just two seconds after this guy inhales a mouth-full of poo gas from below his crapper, he's going to say, "Oh Fuck! It's full of poo gas! TAKE ME NOW, LORD!" 

Judging from this brilliant escape plan, I imagine he would next fill the bathtub with water, grab a straw and submerge himself until the fire goes out. Ooh ooh! He could also fashion himself a heat proof igloo out of pried ceramic tiles from his bathroom floor. 

How did he end up getting stuck in the bathroom anyway? And why are there so many numbers and arrows? There should be just one that reads

Fig. a "Breathe Poo Gas For Great Justice!"

Or better yet:

1. Escape from fire by trapping yourself in your bathroom.
2. Shimmy handy siphon into toilet trap.
3. Breathe poo gas.
4. FUCK–

Now, I know that by making fun of this clever, yet futile survival technique, I will be ironically thrown into a situation where I myself will have to breathe poo gas to save my life.

As I suckle what little air I can from those fetid pipes, I'll curse the man who wrote the book that tells you to breathe what the water trap in your toilet was built to keep out. I'll curse him for putting that stupid idea into my desperate mind as the conflagration inches ever closer to breaching my hygenic fortress of solitude.

…and if I survive such an encounter, I will tell nobody.

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Pretty sure this guy coined the term 'Poo Gas'

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Pretty sure this guy coined the term 'Crud Vapors'

Obscure? Maybe. Relevant? You bet Frank Pacholski's quivering buttock it is.

PENNY ARCADE EXPO EAST 2010

The last week in March was the East Coast's first PAX ever and Nadir, some friends, and I gathered our dice and slogged over to Boston, fueled by disgusting energy drinks and raging boners. This made for interesting bus rides and absurd sleeping arrangements. I now have the utmost respect for any woman who has ever put up with sharing a bed with me after the experience was described to me as 'sleeping next to a bear-shaped tornado'.

I will not name names. This was totally Bromosexual.

Being an a novice to conventions myself, I had no idea what to expect, really no idea. NO IDEA. Upon finally getting into the Expo via a serpentine of like-minded semi-costumed gamers, my infantile expectations were utterly shattered. The Hynes Convention Center is HUGE. Big enough for an expo floor, an auditorium for concerts and larger panels, and riddled with smaller rooms in which tables and chairs were set up to accommodate every game from Warhammer to Dungeons and Dragons Clue (REALLY!).

Then there was Will Wheaton's keynote address in which he dove into his past as a gamer and geek and then like some boyish oracle, foretold the experience we were about to have and how it would change our lives forever. He spoke of how great it is that the gaming community has come together and overcome opponents who would seek to label us as violent deviants and how now, thanks to the internet, the lone kid with no friends clutching a binder full of character sheets is all but unheard of. He related his experiences playing games from his very first D&D set to games like Dragon Age that are becoming, for all intents and purposes, as much of a narrative vehicle as a feature film, if not moreso because they put you in charge of the plot. Speaking from experience, Dragon Age was a whirlwind of greatness. Which is much like a bear-shaped tornado, but with less hair.

Will's sage advice before releasing us unto the expo floor?

"Don't be dicks."

Preaching to the choir, Will, because this was the friendliest, fun loving group of thousands and thousands of people I have ever shared a cramped space with (and I ride the subway every day). Only at PAX will you look down from a balcony to an audience lighting up with a sea of Nintendo DS's between shows as people hopped on picto chat. Only at PAX could you embrace a random stranger who was lying in wait for 20 minutes in order to pounce on you …and THEN …win a T-shirt. Stupendous! Social networking at its very basic.

Some highlights? 

• The Behemoth's new game, Battle Block Theater, wherein you compete in varied smash brothers-like gladiatorial stages for the amusement of an audience of cats.
• Red Dead Redemption, where a member of our party just had to see if he could kill a horse and subsequently freaked out the Rockstar employee showcasing the game to us "I've seen a lot of weird stuff but I've never seen anybody run back [away from the mission] and kill their own horse"
• The pile of free t-shirts I snagged! At one point on Sunday I was wearing eight.
• MC Frontalot. Holy crap. Sure I was half asleep by the time he came on, but I bought his album anyway and am happy to have him join my list of awesome, dapper, bald musicians.
• I KNOW I'm forgetting a few. Hopefully Nadir will remind me when the photos start rolling in. Stay tuned!

The costume count was tame compared to Comic Book conventions, but we did manage to capture some gems. I'm sure more will follow as my buddies unload their cameras. Enjoy!

Auxiliary Magazine April/May Issue

Here by the skin of my teeth! The sleepless nights are totally worth it!

Finally, Stuffed and Unstrung by the Henson Company

I had heard snippets about this Improv Puppet show featuring Brian Henson (son of late, legendary, Jim) geared towards an adult audience (albeit less adult than Avenue Q) but I truly had no idea what I was missing! Audrey snagged two tickets, we went to the early Saturday showing and promptly laughed our asses off! Not only was it comedically brilliant, but technically too. It was really neat to be able to see the puppeteers scramble around stage, and the craftsmanship of the puppets themselves shows that the Force still runs strong in the Henson family. Oh, and the Barry the Usher bit was a masterpiece of multi-layered video-looping goodness. I may just be easily impressed, but c'mon, if you saw it, you laughed. 

Being an improv show, results may vary, but I think our funniest skit was the one where they invite an audience member to puppet-up and join in. What was funny about our guy is that he couldn't hold his puppet up high enough, point him in the right direction, match his mouth to his voice, or bob him as he walked! So the whole time Henson behind the crab puppet was yelling "WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?"   "HE'S SLIDING ACROSS THE FLOOR!"  "STAND UP!"   "HE'S SPEAKING TO US THROUGH TELEPATHY!" The sketch was outright BEDLAM.

BEDLAM! 

Incidentally, the prospect of being dragged on stage to take part in the show terrified Audrey, and caused me to quickly scribble up this comic which details the aftermath of getting pulled up on stage and molested by puppets.

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It was called the Angry Wizard.

Mana Potion and Vodka *HURL*

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How awesome is that painting he's standing under?!

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George Hrab and MC Frontalot

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Old news by now, but the October Issue of Auxiliary Magazine is out featuring spooky halloween themed fashion tips, music reviews, and an interview with Doc Hammer of Venture Brothers fame! Auxiliary is run by friend/classmate/one-time-roommate Jennifer Link whose design and photography background lend to a beautifully constructed periodical. As usual, I contributed some frantic doodles this issue, which I posted below.  Click on the link above to view a definite up-and-coming alternative life/art/music/fashion magazine! 

BONUS: These should have been different posts, but I’ve been lackadaisical in my updates. Below are some sketches and recent entries into my facebook group ‘Ozgur’s Photoshop-Arama’ now affectionately known as OPA!!!!

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I kid you not. The only thing I approve about Wal-Mart. I give it 2 popped collars!

Last weekend, we found our heroes Orlando Do’Urden, Bernard Shaw, Maki the Liar, and Bernard Shaw Jr, The Goblin, on a quest to recover an artifact of immense power.

Halfway through the adventure, our heroes were at a loss as to what to do with this elf chick that they had freed from the clutches of some spider monsters. They decided to do her, which was a terrible choice and our heroes wandered the wilderness forever. This led to much shouting. The next day our heroes continued and much merriment was had.

Sadly, this leg of the adventure saw the death of Maki the Liar to some horrible beast woman. Normally such a fate is only dreamed of, but it totally wasn’t like that. But no worries! After the rejoicing and stomping, and wearing of Maki’s spine as a necklace, the heroes encountered my new character, Crom Do’Urden. A bossy Dragonborn warlord with a penchant for eating people. Wherein Orlando Do’Urden asks the chained elf woman if she is horny, Crom Do’Urden tells the elf woman that she’s horny. With gusto.

“What happened next?” You ask? You didn’t? Oh well… Alright.

Anyway, enough about the imaginary antics of a group of heroes who all look like me. Onto some art! Lately I’ve been messing around with a combination of gouache, ink washes, and colored inks in place of black. I very much like the results. Here are a slew of studies, sketches and even a magazine commission. I’ll update this section as I scan them in. Enjoy!

I was recently informed by my friend Lauren that when you Google ‘octopus jesus’, my page comes up first. VICTORY!! All hail our squishy eight-armed savior!!