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!

UPDATE: AMC has announced that they will not be airing the PSA in their theaters! Huzzah! 

"Thank you all for your feedback. I know there's a lot of passion shared on this thread today and I apologize for the short delay in response here.

I want to assure everyone that AMC has no plans to air any ad or Public Service Announcement about the vaccination topic, nor has any ad or PSA about the issue been shown on our screens.

Again, I appreciate you all taking the time to share your thoughts. I hope this clarifies the issue." -Ryan Noonan, Official Rep

Starting on Thanksgiving Day, select AMC theaters in the US are going to begin airing an anti-vaccination PSA made by the group SafeMinds before films. I'd rather not give the ad any more airtime than it deserves, but this is what it claims:

1.  Vaccines contain mercury.
2.  Mercury is bad for you.
3.  Therefore vaccines are bad for pregnant women and infants.
4.  Unused vaccines are disposed of as hazardous waste.

These are pretty heavy claims, and to the uninformed, that's pretty good reason not to go to a doctor to get your flu shot. But there's a problem. There's a cascading, logical flaw which nullifies the rest of the video's arguments. A single bit of misinformation that renders their entire argument void:

Single dose vaccines do not contain mercury. Multidose vials do contain a chemical preservative called Thiomersal, which contains ETHYL-mercury. What's the difference? Ethylmercury has not been shown to bioaccumulate, ie. it does not get absorbed by the body, as is passed out with the rest of the body's waste materials. Normal mercury, or methylmercury, is fat soluble and therefore collects in the brain to produce mercury poisoning. BIG difference. 

Thiomersal has not been shown to produce any negative effects. In an effort to appease what was growing concern over vaccines causing autism, thiomersal was removed from single dose vaccines. Despite the removal of this 'poison', autism rates did not drop at all.  

But lets get back to the points made by our anti-vaxx friends up there.

1. Oops. Guess we goofed there. Vaccines of any form don't contain methylmercury.
2. Er. Guess that means that point is moot. We should target Big Tuna instead.
3. Yeah. Guess that was tied to point 1, huh? Getting the Flu is infinitely more dangerous for pregnant women and infants.
4. Wuh-wuh-WAIT This is still true!! Unused vaccines are disposed of as biomedical waste because. Aw crap. Because they contain dead disease cells are considered biomedical waste, just like amputated limbs, tumors, or blood soaked bandages. Shucks.

"So their points are bupkis! What can we do to stop this fear-mongering?"

Because the ad selections are made at the corporate level, it is difficult to get them pulled from individual theaters. While efforts are underway to petition AMC theaters to pull the ads, I think the best we can do is spread positive information about vaccines, in an effort to 'vaccinate' the public against such misinformation. Tell your wife, tell your kids, and tell your husbands too. Because anti-vaxxers are misinforming everybody out there.

You can more information by visiting Skepchick.org's original posting, which includes the actual PSA video.

With any luck, our efforts will yield fruit and we won't get whooping cough for Christmas. I leave you with Penn and Teller's take on the subject, which aired on Showtime's BULLSHIT! I believe their demonstration drives the point home that despite ANY possibility that vaccines MAY be harmful (for which there is slim to nil) It's more dangerous to not get vaccinated. Do the research, weigh the risks, and please make the right choice. Your kids and your kids' friends will thank you for not giving them diphtheria. Enjoy, and think skeptically.

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!

Few people know this, but I'm telling the truth when I tell you that I wear glasses. Not in the present tense or anything like that. More like in the way of saying "His corneas are ellipses, so he needs glasses". Again, not in the present tense though. I don't wear them currently. They are not sitting on my face right now, nor have I been misleading you in all my portraits/photos/doodles! I would never dare embellish my drawn self. 

The last pair of glasses I owned fell in a creek in 2006. This is my best guess anyway. We arrived at said creek, frolicked, got muddy, and upon arriving home, realized I had no glasses. Mind you, I wasn't blind as a bat without them. I had only a mild astigmatism at the time, so they were reserved for comfort or nighttime driving.

Not long after that trip I moved to New York City and had no use for driving. Or comfort. Bah! I was in no hurry to replace them, and lackadaisical whimsy turned into outright forgotten procrastination.

Well, my eyes have gotten worse since then and I catch myself squinting all the time to make out details of distant objects. If you know me, you might call me Squinty McSquintyPants, Squinty McGee, or Japanese, which is sticks for you because I am half Japanese. You racist. Now, after nearly 5 years without glasses, I've become fed up with squinting, getting squinting headaches, not recognizing people I know until I nearly pass them, and the squinting. But most importantly, on Labor Day weekend Audrey and I are going upstate to my parents' lake house, where we will lounge about, swim, and best of all: I want to star gaze. Recently at my cousin's wedding, I looked up towards the heavens and saw only black speckled with smeary dots. THIS WILL NOT DO. Living in New York has made me forget what it is to see the stars! I had to fix this.

So I looked up some of the better known eyeglass places here in NYC. In my searches, I came to find that every optometrist is either absolutely terrible, or that google maps is full of slighted customers, angrily pounding out bad reviews in order to stick it to these stores. While the latter psychologically makes sense, I decided not to take my chances.

I decided on Park Slope Optical, because it's nearby and the man I spoke to on the phone didn't sound like he was 20 and already done with living. It was an altogether wonderful experience. Good selection of frames, really friendly service, and I spoke at length to the optometrist about painters whose eye ailments presented through their paintings. I was in and out in less than an hour and my glasses should be ready by Wednesday. GREAT SUCCESS.

There is only one downside to all of this: Now that I know my glasses are on their way, the anticipation of once again seeing clearly is upon me. Now that I remember that clear vision is possible. Now that I have come to terms with the fact that I have been doing my vision a great disservice…

I find it an absolute bother to squint anymore. It is offensive to me.

I catch myself  looking at far away objects thinking, "Why should I squint at that like a damned peasant?" 

Having bad eyesight made me work muscles around my eyes that I never even knew I had, and now I'd be damned if I ever used them again.

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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'

Audrey wants a portrait of the cats for her cube. I had to start with Ferdinand. No offense to Eddie, but he's easy. Ferd's so damaged, but proud, it presented an immediate challenge in capturing his likeness. 

I leave for upstate New York tomorrow afternoon, and since I'm not going to take my 'sploded laptop, tonight was a bad time to start a new painting, but I just had to start SOMETHING. My portfolio is very much lacking in wholly painted works, which I know I can do, but my work for Auxiliary tends to favor fast, graphic work. I love laying the groundwork for a painting, but I often get bogged in the blending, which when painting with gouache, is automatic and unavoidable. Especially so, when you paint like me, barely thinning the paint to the point where it goes down more like oil than water-media.

Speaking of paintings, I just bought a shmancy all-in-one wireless printer to replace my crummy inkjet and Canoscan Scanner, which still works GREAT despite being about ten years old! Unfortunately, Canon no longer makes drivers for my particular model, so it became obselete when I switched to a 64 bit OS. Hopefully, with this new printer, I'll be able to crank out some nice prints to sell. This step of my success ladder has long been overdue.

"Gee Maki, you have some great work on the site. Can I buy some of it?"

"Uh, well. That one's actually 3 different canvases photoshopped together, and the new stuff doesn't even HAVE a physical analog–"

"Well, I guess I'll just have to spend my money on a Thomas Kincaid painting. Look at that lighthouse!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

So you heard to here first… as opposed to elsewhere. I'm going to start putting together a page where you can buy my stuff pretty soon. I hereby pledge to use the money earned from said bought stuff to buy beer to pour out for my retired scanner. Then I'll drink the rest of the 6-pack and rest on what little laurels trickle in. FAME.

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