Forty watt.

I tend to alternate between periods of frenzied creative activity and complete lack thereof. At the moment, I must be coming up on a frenzy, 'cause Ideas (for animations, mostly) have been dropping into my head like... like... things dropping into heads (I said I had ideas, not metaphors). Here are some, mostly just so I'll remember them, not so you folks can comprehend them:

• Shaggy on a cell-phone


• Clubbin' Baby Ceil


• The Book of His Life


• The God Note


• 24 to 30 inverse telecine program (for transferring animations to DV)


• Diminuendo and Crescendo in Blue

There will be a quiz later.

What do you guys think of a "Greatest Hits" section on the right, there, containing links to some favorite posts?

Squelch sits and waits, realizing the surefire way to expose how few people are reading is to ask a question.

I'm not really here.

People have wondered why I'm bothering to conceal my name, considering that most people who read this blog read it before last April, when it had my name proudly emblazoned all over it. It's usually futile to try to conceal one's identity in the best of circumstances; I've been told to never try to hide one's blog from those you don't want to read it, because they'll find it all the quicker.

That's all true, no doubt. But I find myself wondering what will happen ten years down the line, when D and E are awkward teenagers; will they really want their friends searching Google for their names and discovering memoirs of their potty-training? (All this assumes Google still exists, and for that manner Rooster Spice still exists.) More immediately, do I really want immediate family stumbling across entries like this one and worrying about me on a daily basis?

Not to mention that I think one Google search already ruined the wife's chances for a little interview.

Yeah, our real names will still show up in the Google archives. But this will make me feel a little better.

Going, going...

I've begun the quixotic task of removing any references to my name, or my immediate family's. (The posts won't be removed, but the names will be changed to protect the innocent.) So if you have anything you'd like to keep unadulterated, get it now.

Or, just visit the Wayback Machine.

Could I have Aging Gracefully for $400, Alex?

Arthritis. Overactive bladder. Erectile dysfunction.

Somehow I don't think I'm in the demographic which "Jeopardy" advertisers covet.

King Jeb?

Yes, I know the law only applies to Florida, and I know that it's narrowly focused on one particular (very particular) class of court decisions, but gee whiz, it's still dangerous to allow the governor to override the courts!

I have an opinion, sure, about whether the woman in a vegetative state should be on or off the feeding tube, but frankly it's none of my business, so I don't really care to share it. Do I wish the family could have resolved it without getting into a legal battle? Sure. Do I think it's worth running roughshod over the separation of powers? Hell, no.

After all, remember the last time there was a court battle in Florida? Did we want Jeb Bush to be able to override the judges then? (Then again, the outcome would have been the same...)

All right, we've moved to a new commenting system, which, for the time being, seems more reliable, if butt-ugly. One warning--don't put your true email in the box. The current template has no spam-stopper. (So don't put someone else's in there either.)

I'm told there are currently issues with the commenting engine. I have opened it up and applied oil, but am waiting for the repairman to get back to me. Watch this space for further development.

Where have you been?

None of your damn business.

But, if you must know, I did make it into the 48 Hour Film Project, we made a great film which didn't place at all (I'm not bitter, no sir!), I've returned to animation after a long hiatus (longer than the blogging break), the Band has not been together all summer, D is going to a new school, and that's about it.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need lunch.

I didn't hear anything. Did you?

Welcome back to Rooster Spice! All-new, all-impersonal! No more wailing self-pity! No more threats of suicide! Just events and commentary, with nothing inside the author's head!

With any luck, we can have no worries from readers--and no interest, either.

Okay, fine, some of you know who I am, but who cares? I don't! Anyone new will have to DIG DEEP to find out the Truth.

As deep as this page, for instance. Yes, one of those entries is by your faithful blogger! Enjoy it while you can, before I get into a snit and decide to pull the site down again.

Ta-ta for now!

TIMBER!

Shit, look out, I think it's about to topple over--

Hmmm... is the top swaying, or is that my imagination?

It's very pretty! The roots look a little rotted, though...

Look at that big ol' tree.

Hmm... we seem to be in a forest.

Announcing the inevitable. One year ago today, I started this blog. And one year later, I finish it.

Of course, as anyone who's still checking for updates knows, it really ended a few months back, but this swan song appeals to my sense of symmetry.

I'm mourning, a little. But really, this whole thing started as a exercise in writing every day, and then morphed into something that (a few, anyway) people actually read, and then I started worrying about sharing all my innermost thoughts on the Web...

I could, I suppose, simply not share quite as much or in quite so much detail, but that, frankly, isn't my nature.

Really, it isn't fun anymore, and if I need to keep another journal, I'll do it on paper, in a notebook, which worked fine before.

I may start another blog someday, but if I do, it will be anonymous, so don't look for links to it. I'm kind of bummed that I won't be able to use "Rooster Spice" again. I really liked the name.

And so, with probably no one listening, I shut down the computer ("put down my pen" sounds better, but isn't accurate), secure in the knowledge that no one will ever again email, call, or worry over me because of some stupid thing I wrote when I was tired.

See you in the funny papers...

This article is old, but a hoot.

God is Dead, After Weather and Sports

Oooh, look! Conspiracy theories aren't just for the far right anymore!

Boo.