Return of the Hypnotoad!

One fat wet muchas gracias goes out to Comedy Central.

Futurama will be back in summer of 2010 with all new episodes.

I'm very pleased. Very, very pleased.

The Vanishing Bills

No industry has ever confused me as much as the comic book industry. Every year I get more baffled.

Comics, why are you still here? Why are we gearing up for yet another San Diego "Comicon"?

Don't get my wrong. I love comics. They're my favorite type of storytelling. I'm not dissing the art form. But the industry is dead.

Isn't it? Does anyone even know where to find a comic store at this point? Outside of movie deals, do comics exist? I know a ton of young people from various internet gaming hubs. In the last five years, I've met ONE new person who reads two comics. He has them mailed directly to his house by subscription.

I am genuinely confounded by the whole subject. Why are we still having comic conventions? To promote manga, anime, and tv shows like Battlestar Galactica? So cosplayers can be ogled effectively and in person? Honestly, I'm lost here. You can't tell me that sad little rack of disorganized graphic novels at Borders warrants a convention.

If there is a viable comic industry hiding someplace, I'd like it pointed out to me. I feel like there's something I'm not getting.

Glory to the Hypnotoad

Last Futurama movie. Moment of silence.

Then a tip of my metronome hat. My own imagineering skills are formidible. I have heartfelt respect for the work that's been done on this show.

Of all the people I've seen tackle television sci-fi, which is most of them, the Futurama writers have the highest per capita of excellent new ideas. Silly as their presentation may be, they've been many years ahead of the curve in conceptual architecture. Raw imagination is no small part of science fiction.

They've done some killer work with aliens. The episode where they invade the planet of bouncing orbs should be required viewing for any writer considering the subject of other lifeforms. It's probably the fastest and cleanest primer on non-human perspective anyone has ever penned.

"The elders tell of a young ball much like you. He bounced three metres in the air. Then he bounced one-point-eight metres in the air. Then he bounced four metres in the air. Do I make myself clear?"

Quite possibly the five greatest sentences of alien dialog ever conceived. I was, and remain, humbled.

Last, and most important, Futurama connected. Loveable, sympathetic, interesting characters are not one of science fiction's strongest suits. Very few people have ever bridged this chasm as well the Futurama crew. Virtually all their characters are steeped in fantastic organic moments by the time the series ends. The story of Fry's lost clover is a landmark for our genre on par with Picard's imagined family in The Inner Light.

I sincerely hope that Wild Green Yonder wasn't the end of Futurama.

If it was the end, then congratulations on a job well done.

Get Doogie Hauser on the phone.

I'm not a huge Joss Whedon fan. Firefly was cool. Most of his other stuff leaves me cringing. Nevertheless, I learned something this week watching his new show - Dollhouse.

I learned that I'm incredibly glad I quit writing television scripts. Joss Whedon has single handedly convinced me that was a brilliant move.

Why? Well, look at the whole scene around Dollhouse. Look at Herr Whedon.

He's arguably the most famous television writer. Ever. And what does it get him?

Nothing. Just nothing.

Dollhouse premiered twelve hours ago and already the cancellation buzz has started up. Apparently the show is on Fridays because any other day would have meant "three strikes and you're out". Without fantastic ratings, it was likely to be axed after three or so episodes. So they put it on Friday, where there is less pressure to perform. Still the talk of doom is pervasive.

If I'd written and created as many shows as Joss has, and had that little professional clout, I'd be shopping for a new medium.

In the workplace...

For several years I have been designing the most epic location in science fiction history.

Soon, I get to unveil it. We finally near the broken sun.

I'm very excited.

One last ride on the old penny-farthing...

The studio pauses to pay respects. Patrick McGoohan died today.

The Prisoner was an inescapable influence on many of us. I know it was for me. Mister McGoohan didn't just star in the show, he helped create it.

I bid you a heartfelt farewell, Number Six.

New Year indeed.

I finished up the book 2 rewrites last night and moved forward, into uncharted ground.

I'm so fucking happy to be done with the repairs. I hate rewriting.

It's such a pain to go through scenes you like, that just aren't threaded right, and rework them. I'm here for the blank page, generally speaking. But it had to be done, and it all came out fairly well. The new versions are more organic, and hopefully more interesting to read.

So yes, 2009, I slid in through the closing hatch. Mostly by accident. It's still great to be here.

Now I have to go kill a few billion people and find several alien voices for my ridiculously convoluted narrative.