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What Has that Man Done to You? Pt. 1

What Has that Man Done to You? Pt. 1 published on 3 Comments on What Has that Man Done to You? Pt. 1

My cells are tired, and I suspect it’s my own damn fault.

It’s either my fault because my genes are too stellar, or because I’m facing a karmic punishment for narcissistic shit talking.

First the stellar gene theory, my son has decided that rather than sprouting one or two teeth at a time he’d prefer to have them all at once, thank you very much (I’m operating under the illusion that he’s thoughtfully weighed the pros and cons of protracted vs. acute teething  and has “decided”).   Thus, in addition to being preternaturally cute, tall, and intelligent–he’s believes in brutal efficiency.

I’m so proud. Proud and tired.

In his calculations, I don’t know that he adequately weighed the *Impact on Dad’s Hobbies* variable, or the *Parents Must Preform Adequately at Work* variable.

It is possible that my stellar genes haven’t gifted my son with the ability to plan his teething. If that’s true then in my exhausted state the only reason I can think of that the Universe would have all of a baby’s teeth come in at the same time is as a means of punishing a prideful, shit talking father (i.e. Me).

Before Baby Indy was born, I assured everyone around me that I was the King of the Jungle and that the Baby would bend to my iron will. The Baby would have to conform to my schedule, etc, etc, etc.

I’m such an asshole.

Thus the Universe decided to punish me for my narcissism–teach me some humility.

Well, the Universe can suck it, I’m not learning shit.

If anything I’m doubling down on my narcissism, take this blog as proof. It’s operating under the theory that a baby’s discomfort is a father’s punishment.

Ha! How about that Universe, lesson not learned.

Quick caveat, in the event that the Universe actually reads this know that I’m a huge fan of your work and would love it if you followed me on Twitter. Maybe you could even give us a retweet every once in a while?

So tired.



Launch Party

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Behold your future my childless nerds.

It’s different, a happy different, but certainly different. The time I do get to game seems sweeter now, less frequent certainly, but sweeter.

As to the comic, one of my favorite parts about collaborating with Jim are the background jokes and Easter Eggs he includes.

Panel 4’s “Flying Brick” killed me… and apparently some helpless Nooblette. I do love the ironic/slogan t-shirts he includes as well, something I rarely, if ever, include in the scripts.

I also like to imagine that Jim is making little conceits throughout the comic to anyone patient enough to look.

Take the blocks in the final panel for instance, though I’ve not confirmed it with Jim, I think he’s making a Hamlet reference “2” and “B” on the blocks. Hamlet’s soliloquy is a meditation on how one continues life in the face of trial and strife. The 1 Up Mushroom is clearly a continuation on the theme as it literally represents life in the gaming Universe. Thus, Jim has deftly combined the classic representation of new life (infancy) with the gaming representation of new life (Green Spotty Mushrooms).

Why the combination? I think Pezzetti is arguing, and this is a classic Pezzetti move, that one needs to stop reading and play more games. Whether it be rocketship or Mario–play will chase away all that nasty introspection.

Well done my good man. Perhaps someday I’ll learn that brevity is in fact the soul of wit, and you can stop trying to cram all my dialogue into our panels.



Dark Souls Diary Entry 6

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Dark Souls Diary Entry 6

Daily Deaths: 12
Total Deaths: 37
Bosses Beaten: 1 (Titanite Demon)

Current Level: 24

Sweet Loot: Dragon Scale, Grass Crest Shield, Elite Knight Armor Set, Partisan, Black Leather Armor Set, Long Bow

The Titanite Demon has shuffled off his immortal coil–and I helped him shuffle.  Muwhahaha.

And how did I kill the Titanite Demon?

Well, I killed him with exactly 124 wooden arrows.  When I landed my first arrow it did barely any damage and I thought to myself, “Self, wouldn’t it be horrid to waste all my 124 of my arrows on this guy and not actually kill him?”  So 123 arrows later I notched my final arrow… praised the sun in my mind and collected a boat load of souls!

Quick tip on the Titanite Demon, he’s actually really easy to kill.  When you enter the room move down the slope and slightly to the left.  At range he attacks with a lightning bolt, so position yourself so that his lightning bolt strikes the broken pillar just in front of him then notch your 124 arrows, grab a drink and spam the left bumper.

Aside from that triumph I really just did a lot of milling about.  I killed the large purple dragon in the Valley of the Drakes and harvested a dragon scale from him… when I’m disciplined enough to hold onto 10,000 souls I’ll upgrade my Drake Sword with it.  I got my first look at the Capra Demon, though it was in phantom form.  Jim and I were trying to get into one another’s game but the stars weren’t aligned for us.  So I wound up being pulled into another players game and we rolled over the Capra Demon.  From what everyone else who has fought him says, I should relish this victory.  Apparently Capra will kick my ass for a while.

I fought the Gargoyles and got pounded, I think my new rule of thumb will be to tackle bosses as a phantom a few times before I try to do them myself.

Walking Dead Season Premier was on tonight so there was no gaming for me this evening, expect my next Dark Soul Diary Tuesday.  I’m dedicating my next game session to beating the Gargoyles so it’s time to play odds maker.  Given that I’ve faced them once already how many times will I have to face them Monday in order to beat them:

1–5 Times:  “I believe in Mr. Jack!”

6-10 Times:  “You’re old so you know how to handle a proper boss fight.”

11-15 Times:  “Eventually, the Gargoyles will just feel sorry for you.”

Never:  “Maybe in 15 years Baby Indy can show you how to game.”





Writer’s Block

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Jim and I started Unicorn Soup at almost the same time Baby Indy was born. This posed a problem, I needed to produce scripts but had no time.

The only free time I had were those few precious minutes I’d sneak away for my shower, and most of that time would be eaten up doing my best Kevin Spacey impersonation.  Thanks be to whatever forces crafted the brain that, “Eureka!” moments occur.

There’s some magical power in the mind–not to get too college dorm on you, but I do often wonder what’s rumbling away in our subconscious.  What innovations, discoveries, and art is bubbling away just out of the reach of our waking brains?

Oh and, “What if the color I see as blue is really what you see as red?”  Blah, blah, blah.

Back to the comic.

During those first few months I produced a lot of scripts, virtually all of them like Archimedes before me.  I would tap the “Eureka!” script out at my laptop still dripping wet. Okay, so not just like Archimedes but you get the idea.

On top of that, I had a cat to contend with.  I don’t recall anything about a cat in the Archimedes legend.  As anyone with a cat knows, cats love keyboards yet loathe their productive use.

So there I’d be wet, fending off my cat, and praying the baby wouldn’t wake up before I’d gotten my idea down. My wife found me this way a few times, but never really said anything. Either she’s incredibly tolerant of aberrant behavior or, given the sleep debt we were running at the time, too exhausted to give a shit what her idiot husband was up to.

I’m banking on the latter.

The things we do for our art.



“Conan O’Brien Can’t Stop”

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Baby Indy believes his parents need:

  1. Aesthetically Challenging Baby Poop
  2. A more streamlined bank account
  3. To be awake for every sunrise

Baby Indy stands firmly resolved that the following are unnecessary:

  1. Hot food
  2. Showers
  3. Movies

Being a benevolent ruler, he did let Molly and I watch “Conan O’Brien Can’t Stop.”  I didn’t follow the CoCo Vs. Leno feud, but all the publicity surrounding it did remind me that I loved Conan.  I spent many a happy nights in college watching Conan… that goofy redhead inspired me to insert many a Rust Monster into my DnD campaigns.  I even rolled a Dire Masturbating Bear once–the party avoided him by creating an she-bear illusion, I’ll spare you the rest of the details.

Back to the movie, it did provide an interesting insight into the deep pit of insecurity that drives O’Brien’s brilliance.  He is at once genuine, hilarious, endearing, and cruel.  Conan has always been a very human entertainer–this humanity comes through in one of the documentary’s quieter moments–Conan sitting alone on a flight of stairs, his head in his hands, waiting to go on.  This is not a facade, nor some contrived drama.  Naked sincerity is refreshing from our entertainers–it is this sense, that you’re getting to see an unfiltered person dealing with the trauma of a brutal business that makes “Conan O’Brien Can’t Stop” an interesting movie.

It’s not uproariously funny, but it certainly is engaging.


Laser Death Sentence

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I’m behind a day on the blog accompaniment to this piece.  Mea culpa–my back has been out from picking up Baby Indy.

Despite telling him that he’s letting lower organisms show up his species, he’s still not making a lot of progress on the walking front.  I know, I know he’s only four months old.  Honestly though, isn’t four months of lounging about enough for these babies?

Other parents tell me that their babies are just as free loading.  I’m not an Evolutionary Biologist, but I think that babies and their “inability to walk” are destroying the food chain advantage our species has spent 5864 years cultivating.

I just pray that the cow I had for dinner never realizes that it takes our young nearly a year to do what their young do within minutes.

From what I’ve read online this “I’m going to destroy my father’s back because I’m too lazy to walk” stage is just a phase.  Like post-college liberalism or pre-death conservatism the only lasting harm is in a shoe box full of embarrassing photos and perhaps a few stupid hats.


P.S.  Everything in this weeks comic actually happened.  Except the incineration.

Birthing Class

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This week’s comic was inspired by the classes my wife and I took before Baby Indy was born.

I did learn some useful stuff in those classes, and some weird stuff too.

Like, I learned that women of all backgrounds seem to relish stories of berserker women mangling their husbands during a contraction.  I’ve never seen an audience so rapt, as our class of pregnant women when the nurse told stories about bedridden women in full stirrups lashing out…

“So he reminded her again that she’d made a pledge not to take any pain meds during birth, and told the doctor she could tough it out.  Before we knew what was happening, she’d gotten a hold of the forceps…”

“Another time, a husband arrived still wearing his golfing glove.  Apparently, he’d decided to play-out the hole rather than come directly to the hospital.  Once we got her to let go, his hand lacked anything you could call a digit.  It was really more of a mashed fleshy flipper…”

Thank God my wife loves me and she spared my hands.  I’m pretty sure I could run a dual axis controller with flippers–though I’d prefer not to have to.



It Takes a Village

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Cats have a natural attraction to the Big Gulp.  Poor Darryl is fighting a battle he’ll never win.  With that cleared up…

Johnny’sCake is the character I most associate with my own experience.  That’s not to say Unicorn Soup is autobiographical, it’s not, though dashes of reality creep in.  So here’s a dash, perhaps a Mrs. Dash—I always play the female characters in Left 4 Dead games.  In L4D, it was all Zoey all the time.  In L4D2, as this comic depicts, Rochelle was my girl.

I love Valve’s female leads.

*Editor’s note*  The following anecdote contains hyperbole, myth and a complete disregard for the Oxford Comma.

Nearly a year ago, when my wife and I found out we were expecting our first child, she suggested that if we had a girl we might consider naming her “Zoey.”

Every nerd molecule of my being exploded in a symphony of joy… it was all I could do to restrain myself from pushing my glasses back up the bridge of my nose, thrusting my index finger into the air and shouting, “Mmmmm!  Capital idea!”

As an experienced husband I knew that my wife wouldn’t love the idea of naming our first child after a videogame heroine—even Zoey.

It wound up being a moot point as we wound up having a beautiful boy–Indiana Gandalf Janney Jr.