Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Kid Archetypes: 3 Touchy Feely Kid

I keep thinking I am done with these and then viola!
More of them crop up and remind me of the often present...

Touchy Feely Kid
That one kid that has no concept of space bubble whatsoever.

I literally had a kid stand there and purposefully breathe on me.
Hot breath on my hand.
My soul was in a kind of inner anguish I am unable to express with words.

There are two kinds of touchy feely kid:

This kid loves loves LOVES you and expresses this by attempting to treat you like a conscious jungle gym. To this kid you find yourself saying, "Hands to yourself so-and-so. Yes. Hands to yourself includes holding my foot. Put it down."

This is the kid that grabs your arm every time they have a question. At first I was a little puzzled by this - and I was like "Why does this kid keep grabbing my arm? Why don't they just ask for help?" and then it came to me. Some when in this youngsters few years upon the planet they realized an important truth - it is is pretty much impossible to ignore someone who is touching you.  They subsequently learned to use this truth to have power over your attention. If I am talking to almost five other kids at the same time they can demand (and acquire) my immediate attention by grabbing my arm.
I am not a fan of this.

Some slightly related not so deep introspection
The root of my issue with touchy feely kid lies in a slight on going psychiatric problem. I don't like being touched by people for the most part.
It boils down to this. It weirds me out that other people are conscious beings. Does this turkey sandwich  care that I picked it up and chucked at an unsuspecting frenemy? No. No it doesn't. But then if you try to hold hands with someone you are plagued with instant doubts. Do they hate this? I usually hate this so I bet they hate this. They hate this. I am sure they also care about being chucked at unsuspecting frenemies. 
Too complicated. Too much guess work. I don't like it.
I certainly don't like being touched by people I don't know.
and I especially really really do not like being touched by people I don't like.

This person is not intended to represent anyone that I actually know. We will just say that I dislike her - probably because she has a bow in her hair - and she decided to put her hand on my shoulder. In response I  feel angry and hissy like an assortment of threatened animals.

Here is a simple chart. Notice the scarcity of the green area.

You know it is serious when Hogwarts gets involved.

Monday, August 4, 2014


I don't know why.

Yesterday I flagrantly disregarded the long list of grown-up people things I had to do and wrote this dinosaur comic instead.
Here it is.

and the moral of the story is- you need to pay attention in the mesowhateverific era (I may or may not have done exactly no research and I have no idea whether or not parasurolophus and T rex were even around at same time but I felt like drawing them so whatever).

Sunday, July 20, 2014

LEGO Space Pirate Ship - because DUH.

Did you think I was lying?
I am not.
Be Jealous.

Space. Pirates. Space-pirates.
It is yes.

Because a pirate ship without wings is just a normal cuss pirate ship.

 It opens up - yay! Inside the cabin control station. No there are not enough flames everywhere.
Some people do adult things like go to the bank and change the toilet paper roll...I did this.
I have had pieces for the Black Seas Barracuda Lego ship for as long as I can remember - but we got them from a garage sale so a bunch of stuff was missing. I used some of the instructions for that and made up other stuff as I went along.
I didn't want to just build the same one as in the instructions so it became a space ship.

Space repair and little boat space ship.
Captain bad-assery-blue-cyborg-chick 
                         Look at that super cool see through and highlighter yellow pirate hook.
  Plus a cape

a rocket launcher and other heavy artillery are a must needs for space crime organizations 

This space monkey has commandeered  a blaster. 

You monkey you! You give my back my handgun.

The traditional skeleton on the front - but with a space helmet. 
I may or may not also work on a space police boat so that I can create a space pirate battle...

The other Christmas Lego thing:Christmas Lego Town

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Kid Archetypes 2: Wait there are more.

Kids are way fun. I have a fantastic time teaching them.
 I also have strange experiences where it seems like I meet the same kid over and over again in one form or another. Here are some more types that show up routinely.

1. The Survivalist
 Somehow kids have this eerie way of doing things that make you feel like you are catching flashbacks to humanity at the dawn of evolution.
Occasionally they bust out this primal and terrifying inclination towards violence.
It's in what they do. Whenever two kids play any type of imaginary game there is a quasi Hegelian master slave struggle. The dominant kid determines the make-believe reality. You can hear it if you listen - it sounds like this:
Kid 1: "I am a princess."
Kid 2: "No. You are an ugly stepsister. I am the only princess."
A primal struggle. A ruthless tribal community.

2. The Followers
 Have pledged their undying allegiance to some stronger and more obnoxious kid. I no kidding had this happen with one of my followers:
Me: Hey Matt that looks really cool.
Matt's overlord kid: "um...not really...actually Matt that doesn't look cool at all."
Me: * stunned silence

3. The "Awesome" Kid
Tag Line: Those who are great in their own eyes....are really annoying in every way.
 Awesome kid is the end all be all of human life as we know it. Awesome kid reads faster than everyone else, has built more Lego sets than are currently in existence, and has ridden every roller-coaster (despite being under the height limit for them - apparently Disneyland just looks at them and says, "screw those potential million dollar injury lawsuits, this kid is so cool we just have to let him ride Indiana Jones." ).
No one does anything better than awesome kid.
If Mark saw a movie yesterday then Awesome kid saw it twice.
I have noticed something fascinating about these kids- they don't see their absurdly fanciful claims as lying. On occasion I have ended up in a conversation like this:
Me: "hmm are you sure it's true that a narwhal-shark jumped through a rainbow at your pool party?
Them: "Yes."
Me: "You aren't making any of that up?"
Them: "I'm not making it up."
They are dedicated to their story.
I believe that this is because they think they are telling the truth.
 Their little thought process goes like this:
            I am better than everyone else.
            Being better than others means doing cooler things than them.
            Sooo If anyone did something cool I must have done more of it (and or done it better)
            Mary went snorkeling on Catalina Island this weekend.
            Clearly I must have done something cooler - since I am cooler than Mary.
            Thusly : I went scuba diving in the middle of shark frenzy.
Awesome kid proceeds to believe wholeheartedly that they have in fact gone scuba diving amidst a shark frenzy. Other kids give Awesome kid a look that says, "um- yeah. right."

4. The Actual Awesome Kid
Is awesome. Doesn't stick it in your face. 
See How Carter finished the assignment and then went on to answer the questions about it without loudly announcing to the class that he was the first one finished? He rocks. He finished this section five minutes ago and went on to the next thing without reminding the whole class that he is wonderful.
You know what to do after you are done "awesome" kid - we have been doing the same thing for weeks now. I see your game. 

Actual awesome kid facts:
Context: kid building a rainbow house, I notice it is in Roy G. Biv order.
Me: "I appreciate your attention to the differences in wavelength which we refer to as the color spectrum."
Kid: "Thanks."

Saturday, July 5, 2014

Kid Archetypes 1: The Storyteller and The Space Cadet

If you teach kids,
If you have worked with kids,
If you have met kids,
If you have kids and are therefore forced to meet legions of other kids,
       then you have met these kids.

 I have come to the conclusion that, like Jung's archetypes, there are certain repeating types of children.
Please put together a universal groan for:
The Story Teller and The Space Cadet

The Storyteller.
The storyteller decides that you need to hear in detail the entire plot of :
  1. a disney movie
  2. an episode of clone wars
  3. a captain underpants book

The storyteller then proceeds to tell you the whole story in a barrage of sentences to which there is seemingly no end.

It is my personal scientific theory that if The Storyteller is left alone in an enclosed space he will fill the space with words to the point of spontaneous combustion.

2. The space cadet.
Delivered by the stork into the arms of a terrified father in the local hospital - the space cadet has not quite decided to join us yet.

Timmy is especially susceptible to getting all his shit stolen.
Timmy: " hey look I found these really cool Lego pieces!"
Mark (grabs said Lego pieces from Timmy): "Hey look I found these really cool Lego pieces!"
Timmy: "oh ... I thought...I had them....but... maybe you found them first..."
Me: "Heck no Mark. You know what you did."

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Once upon a song

I sometimes I write comics other times I write dorky myths. Here is a dorky myth.

"I hate men," said the fat little god with the razor sharp teeth.
" - and I will tell you why before I eat you."
He began his story-

Long ago the stars sang a song.
Everything danced the dance of the song that the stars sang.
They sang of what is and what was and what will be.
what is and what was and what will be
and what they sang was what was done.

Their's was a song of beauty without mystery for in the song every step was prescribed. The stars sang of the movements of the planets and the tiniest step of an insect. Nothing was missing from the song.

The song held for every living thing a constant terror.
 In every note of the song was the crunch of broken bones.
The inevitable gnawing of the bones of those who were dead and of those who would be dead.
And there were no other living things but the dead and the dying.
But they lived by the song and the terror for the song had to be.

The gods loved the fear and they filled their nostrils with the terror of the living things. They were huge and fat. They were happy.
Another voice began to sing.
It could hardly be called singing - a small murmur, a buzzing, disrupting the song of the stars.

The stars didn't care. They sang on - as they always sang and always would sing and they danced their dance ever heedless of the things below them.
But the gods were perturbed.
"Who dares?" they sneered.

The thing that murmured was by far the most pathetic of the living things. It had neither claws nor fangs. In fact these things spent most of their time trying -but failing- to avoid being eaten.
The thing no longer wanted to spend its nights in the caves and its days running.
So it murmured. And the murmur grew louder.
The murmur grew into a song.
The song was about the weak thing getting stronger and what the song said came to be.

The gods hated this but the thing gave them sacrifices and foolishly they were appeased - but they shrank and shrank and hardly realized it until they were so small they could hardly do him any harm.

That is what the little god said, my son, when I met him.
From his story we can learn many things -
We can learn why men find  things that lack mystery to also lack beauty.
We can learn why men watch the stars and listen to them because they are too lazy to sing their own songs.
 And some still say that the song of the stars lives in three old women - but they are three old women and they no longer shine as brightly as they used to.
We can learn a great many things about ourselves from the little god's story.

But, Father - didn't the god have razor sharp teeth? And how is it you are here to tell me the story now?
Yes- my son, but the gods cannot sing. So I sang him a song about me going home safely and that is what happened.

Sunday, May 11, 2014

Teenage Soup for the Chicken's Soul

On a recent afternoon I was going through stuff in the house trying to eliminate the avalanche of junk that slowly acummulates anywhere that people have lived for a while. This is mostly accomplished by giving away very small track shorts from high school that no longer fit me. The public is generally appreciative of my refusal to wear said track shorts. While sifting through this great host of junk I spied a book called, "Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul." It is full of inspiring tales of teenagers becoming less covered in acne and then getting to be prom queen (and or tales of people who surf without arms or legs while raising money for children with cancer and being valedictorian- these stories never cheer me up for some reason). Anyway I saw this book and said:  



Behold a story is born.

Murder chicken is taunted by nefarious youths.

The crazy. It's in his eyes.

Teenage soup. Iphones for added flavor.

Murder Chicken makes a scientific discovery that if boiled down long enough teenagers morph into hash tags and annoying phrases. He records his findings dutifully - they could be of inestimable value to the scientific community.  

He donates the evidence to his local goodwill.