Category: blog

The 8-bit version of me in my 8-bit clown sweater returns to Diesel Sweeties for a sequel to yesterday's comic:

see more hipster robot webcomics and pixel t-shirts

Am I the only person who sees little gold shiny lines around 8-bit me that are awfully similar to the gold shiny lines we'd see around the gold bars in Pitfall? I ask because I have a condition that makes me see weird Atari graphics around things without warning.

I had to unbiggen the comic the same way I did yesterday and — Hey! Unbiggen! I think I just coined a perfectly cromulent word! — if you'd like to see the comic full-sized, so you can appreciate all 8-bits, you know what to do.

I don't know the original source, but I saw this at Reddit and couldn't not share it, because it's so totally awesome. If you haven't gotten your USRDA of Nerdfight today, you may want to read the comments over there. It's wonderfully amusing.

Edited to add: Oh. I'm an idiot. If I hadn't been enjoying the nerdfight so much, I would have read further down and seen the link to the entire Mini Star Wars set at Photobucket. My bad.

I should also take this opportunity to link to one of my favorite 365 projects at Flickr, Troopies365.

After playing Rock Band 2 for 2 straight hours and struggling though some songs I've never played before, I was worried that when the videos started making their way online, I'd look like an asshole who didn't know how to play fake instruments, and that everyone would laugh at me. But when I watch this video of us doing Livin' on a Prayer, all I see is the evening distilled to its essence: a lot of geeks having a lot of fun pretending to be rock stars on a real stage playing for a real audience, which is exactly what I hoped for when I planned it. I mean, we were up there playing 80s anthems, and there were people dancing in front of the stage. When I sang to a girl in the front row, she screamed like we were at an actual concert. For reals! It was so awesome, it was hard not to get caught up in the fantasy of the thing, and I don't think any of us who played the game spent more than 10 seconds fighting it.

In fact, this was so much fun, I think I may need to figure out a way to make it part of every con I go to … you know, like going on tour. \m/

This weekend, I'm heading out to Phoenix for the 2009 Phoenix Comicon. I had a fantastic time at this show last year. It reminded me of all the things I love about cons, and was a great way to kick off the year. I wrote three posts about the trip, but if you don't have time to read them all, here are some highlights.

Part one:

Friday night was a low-key preview night, so I figured I'd take my
books and stuff over to the convention center, which was helpfully
located just 100 yards from the hotel, get set up for the weekend, and
check out the other vendors.

While I was stacking some books on the table and excitedly looking
at a comics booth down the aisle, a couple of people came over to my
table. They wanted to buy The Collected Works of Me, Wil Wheaton.

"Really?" I said, "That's cool!"

We traded shiny gold rocks for dead trees, and I continued to
unpack. I placed some photos on the table: River and me in Stand by Me,
right after I shot the gun behind the Blue Point Diner, Gray Spacesuit
Wesley, Elvis Stamp Wesley, and Just A Geek Cover me.

"Awesome," I thought. "I'm all set up for tomorrow."

I grabbed my backpack and prepared to go shopping. Then I stopped, because more people had arrived.

We talked for a few minutes about geek things, and a little line
formed behind them. Then the line got a little longer, and before I
knew it, I'd been signing pictures and books for three hours. I never
got to go check out the rest of the vendor's area, because security
kicked me out when they closed the room down for the night, just a few
minutes after I signed my last autograph.

"Well, that was pretty cool and unexpected," I thought as I headed back to my room. "I think this is going to be a great weekend."

Part two:

The day was a blur of friendly faces, signing autographs and books,
shaking hands, posing for pictures, mutual geeking at scientists (there
were lots of scientists there, mostly astronomers, who listened
patiently to me while I slimed them with my slobbering geekiness) and
my constant excitement and wonder that so many people knew about my
books and wanted to pick them up.

This went on for a few hours. Then, during a lull in the day around
lunchtime, Walter walked over to my end of the table after posing for a
picture with some fans and looked at my books.

"I hear you're a writer now," he said, looking at Happiest Days, "What do you write?"

I told him.

"What's this one about?"

I told him, then I showed him the Manga.

"Check it out," I said, opening it to one page, "I totally blew up Leonard!"

He grinned, and I pointed to Dancing Barefoot.

"There's a story in here about the first time I met Bill, and what an ass he was to me," I said.

Walter laughed and said, "Who hasn't he been an ass to?"

I laughed with him. I suspect that if WFS had been there, he
probably would have laughed with us . . . before ordering us off the
bridge.

"If you're interested, and if you think you'd have time to read it," I said, "I'd love for you to have a copy of Happiest Days."

Walter smiled at me, surprised. "Really?"

"It would mean a lot to me," I said.

"I'd like to buy it from you," he said.

We danced for a minute, me trying to give it to him, and him trying
to pay me for it. It was an exquisite tango, and I won't reveal the
victor, because it's not that important. What is important to
me, though, is that Walter has a copy of my book, which I hope he
reads, because there's this story in it about conventions that I think
he can appreciate on a different level than most readers.

And Part three:

"Just a few years ago," I said, "I rarely came to conventions as a
guest, because I felt like I was trying to hold on to whatever fading
celebrity I once had. I didn't do it because I wanted to be famous
again. I did it because, at the time, it was all I could do,
which was so much worse. But now, when I go to cons, I feel good about
it. I look forward to it, because I feel like I can share the Star Trek
thing with people who love it, but I'm really here as an indie
publisher, just like you."

I thought for a second and added, "You know what it's like? It's like — "

"Don't say 'rising from the ashes' while you're in Phoenix! Don't say 'rising from the ashes' while you're in Phoenix!" My brain screamed at me.

"It's sort of like rising from the ashes for me, in a way, which is a pretty lame thing to say since I'm in Phoenix."

"Do you even listen to me anymore? That's it," my brain said. "I'm out of here."

I've been attending conventions since sixth grade, and I've determined that there's one fundamental truth about conventions: they reflect the personalities and motivations of their organizers. Whether I'm there as a fan or as a speaker, the best shows are the ones where the organizers just want to create an atmosphere that's fun, affordable, and a place where we can really let our geek flag fly. Phoenix Comicon is just like that, and if you're within an hour or so of the convention, I think it'll be worth the trip to come hang out for the day.

I'll put my schedule up in another post, either later today, or early tomorrow. I'm writing a couple of columns next, so I'll be at the computer. If you have any questions about the con (that aren't "what's your schedule?" because that's coming later on, feel free to ask, and I'll do my best to answer them quickly.)