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New York Comic Con Commentary and Pics
Trying this again. Not sure what happened to my original post.
But yes, I was at NY Comic Con this weekend and it was very awesome and I wrote about it in some cross-blogging goodness at The Feminine Miss Geek:
New York Comic Con with Boba Fett Chicken and Kevin Smith (pics!)
Read it. For it has Chicken Boba Fett.

Drum Circle at Occupy Wall Street Liberty Square Video (10/2/2011)
It was a moderately cool and rainy Sunday afternoon and I had just gotten off the R train into Lower Manhattan. My plans were to head to Liberty Street and I had high expectations to see disheveled, unyielding activists pitched in tents, ardently protesting America’s corporate greed and corruption.
With my hippie-dar momentarily disoriented upon exiting the underground, I decided the follow the unshaven, long-haired fellow donning an American flag trenchcoat and white Christmas lights draped across his back.
My navigational technique proved effective. For the hirsute one led me straight into a Drum Circle:
Honestly, I was a little disappointed with Occupy Wall Street’s home base. Despite what it looks like in the 360 pan, the crowd ends on three of those sides beyond them with a few police officers standing on the fringes looking bored. I’ve been in much larger drum circles in upstate NY that had no cause.
I feel that Zuccotti Park’s main problem is that relative to other parks it’s pretty tiny. But it is the closest park to Wall Street. Also, Zuccotti Park privately owned, but available to the public and so the police are urging the real estate owners to let them stay under this legal grey area.
They also really needed a less vague series of messages:

Photo by The Gothamist
Overview of the movement here.
Working Night Shifts Sucks

(cc) William Cho on flickr. My mall does not have palm trees. Nor do I think I will get to battle any zombies.
Top 5 Worst Things about Working Overnights at a Giant Retail Store in the Mall
5. Waking up “early” to do stuff involves driving in rush hour traffic.
4. I’ve developed a fear that there are homicidal clowns lurking in the empty 50 cent rides at the mall.
3. I can feel my social skills withering away under my sunlight-deprived skin.
2. I actually have to make my own sandwiches since the food court isn’t open at 3 AM. Ugh, first world problems.
1. People start to mow their lawns the same time I want to go to sleep.
I wasted my holiday weekend with Facebook’s Sims Social
Happy Labor Day! I celebrated the economic and social contributions of workers everywhere by playing Facebook games including the Words for Friends (generic Scrabble) and Sims Social.
Let me tell you something about the Sims on Facebook. It’s terrible! It’s technically buggy, functionally limited, they are constantly harassing to spend real money to buy Sim Money, and I can’t stop playing. But you can grow plants! Which I guess makes it kinda like Farmville except you need to pee more. I’m not sure what happens if you sell your toilet and don’t let your Sim pee. Maybe it’ll die. I don’t know.
Sims Social tag line is “Build a home. Build a relationship. Build a life.” Because we’re all incapable of doing that in the real world.
This is Reginald Omar Klein.
He’s a Villain and probably a hipster. He’s dating Tina, but there’s a technical error that’s preventing Reginald and Tina to go from “Dating” to “Going Steady.”
Will Reginald ever get laid? Will he find 3 friends to help him build another room to his insanely tiny house? Will his pumpkins ever not wither and die? Find out next time on… no, this probably not worth blogging about ever again.
Follow-up post: How a Facebook Game Ate my Life
The Vault of Adolescence
I went to the library today but they closed at 5 PM because my township is cheap. So I went to the County College but they figured out I wasn’t a student anymore and closed my wifi account.
I had an hour to kill so I spent the time organizing some old files transferred from my desktop. In this time, I found some old nostalgia-inducing pictures that I made when I was a teenager, and some are actually pretty well Photoshopped. I probably knew Photoshop better then than I do now.
Tom from Myspace as God. I actually had a myspace group, The Cult of Tom, which myspace shut down without informing me.
Anus pick.
This was the banner I made for my first online journal, which was a Xanga. In the middle is Bondage Squirrel. My handle was BarbequeLighter, so it’s holding a barbequelighter.
These are all going into a folder tilted “The Vault of Adolescence.”
My Failed “I am Anthony Weiner” Project. What I Learned about Social Movements.

A few months ago, when the Anthony Weiner Twitter scandal rocked the media, I did what most people would do: I set up a Tumblr encouraging Weiner supporters to send their own crotch shots to create an online community of anonymous exhibitionists. The only guidelines for photo submission was it be of your crotch, no indentifying features, and a sign that said, “I am Anthony Weiner.”
I can’t claim originality for the “themed-photo community in support of a politically polarizing figure” idea. The concept was clearly inspired by “I am Bradley Manning,” a Tumblr project that really took off.
But the “I am Anthony Weiner” project was a complete failure. Friends who had pledged to send in photos never materialized on their promises, and the collective Internet perviness was seemingly overpowered by collective Internet laziness.
Now I’m not an expert on social movements or viral marketing, but I have a general idea why things get popular and why things fail. “I am Anthony Weiner” was not a terrible idea. I had several photos in the first day, and about 20 people said it was a great idea and would submit if only it had more photos. Others flat out made excuses, momentarily forgetting they owned smartphones, possibly embarrassed about letting me see their scantily clad junkaroo.
My biggest surprise is that an ad on Craiglist garnered nada. Craiglist? C’mon. I thought that was the destination to go for for voyeuristic half-naked pictures. But I guess the type of person to pic-whore themselves out on Craiglists isn’t really the type to care about supporting politicians.
The initial hump (pun intended) is always what makes or breaks a viral social movement. People tend to have trepidation about joining something unless everyone else is more or less there. I gave up on the Tumblr about a week before Anthony Weiner declared that he had lied about the hacking and was leaving office, the final nail in the coffin for the project.
But right after I quit, I got an e-mail of camaraderie from another website: Weiner Support. Their site operated on basically the same idea as mine and had about the same number of submissions. They could afford a domain name and probably knew a thing or two about web design. Their biggest advantage over my Tumblr (disadvantage being lacking the reblog function) was having an on-site picture uploader.
By the time I had logged into the e-mail address and found them, Anthony had already resigned, and Weiner Support’s last picture was that of a kitten. When you’re going against your own theme by posting pictures of kittens, you know you’re doomed.
Maybe one day I’ll create another Tumblr in support of a politician rocked with scandal. But if I do, I will make sure to have a vast network of aggressive like-minded minions, and hopefully the politician won’t be lying.
Here’s an excellent example of how viral movements get started:
Greetings from Post-Irene, NJ Dept. of Transportation Fail, and Mojitos
As I sit on this God-forsaken rooftop with my battery-powered radio, soaked to the bone, waiting with the others to be rescued while staving off the thoughts of cannibalism, all I can think is “Barack Obama doesn’t care about hipsters.”
I’ve tried to use items in my house to make a fire with which to cook my copious supplies of Easy Mac, but my dresser is made of faux wood and all my Proust has gotten damp. I’m down to my last pair of skinny jeans and I’ve just learned my oversized sunglasses don’t offer UV protection. (Which we wouldn’t need anyway if everyone just listened to Al Gore.)
I’m now blind, wet, and hungry. I’m not going to offer an explanation of where I got Internet Access or how I was able to see to type this, but if I don’t get a chai tea latte made from 100% organic, fair trade ingredients in the next 24 hours, I’m going to think of a witty, anti-government slogan and post it on Twitter in protest.
No. I’m in Brooklyn. I partied into Saturday night and woke up on Sunday morning slightly hungover to gloomy, but calm skies. Subways are mostly running and everything is dandy. I have a job orientation in Jersey tomorrow but NJ Transit is largely down. Shrug. Our awesome Dept of Transportation spokesman released this helpful comment about the closures on Interstate 287… oh no, wait:
Because the investigation of the site still is in the early stages, Dee could not comment on the timetable or extent of the closure up the highway. Nor could he provide information on alternate routes that northbound motorists can take around the closure.
Anyway, my drink of choice for natural disasters is Mojitos.

They are absurdly easy to make, super refreshing, and good for bitches like me that don’t like the taste of alcohol. From AllRecipes.com. Yields 1 cocktail:
Ingredients
- 10 fresh mint leaves
- 1/2 lime, cut into 4 wedges
- 2 tablespoons white sugar, or to taste
- 1 cup ice cubes
- 1 1/2 fluid ounces white rum
- 1/2 cup club soda
Directions
Place mint leaves and 1 lime wedge into a sturdy glass. Use a muddler to crush the mint and lime to release the mint oils and lime juice. Add 2 more lime wedges and the sugar, and muddle again to release the lime juice. Do not strain the mixture. Fill the glass almost to the top with ice. Pour the rum over the ice, and fill the glass with carbonated water. Stir, taste, and add more sugar if desired. Garnish with the remaining lime wedge.
If you don’t have a muddler, I’ve read you can use a big wooden spoon, or put the mint with ice in a shaker. Also, brown sugar tastes just as good, but you might have to to stir more to dissolve the bigger granules. It’s all about the fresh mint, motherfuckers, fresh mint.
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