ATOMIC ROBO Press-Release (EDIT)
From my astounding co-Creator over at NuklearPower.com: Check out the official press release action! ATOMIC ROBO will be on shelves October 10th. You can order it from the August issue of Previews, which comes out in July and details what comics will be available in October because itâ€™s the most logical and simple way to do things!
In the meantime, you can go down to your local comic book store and speak loudly about how much youâ€™re looking forward to, â€œThat really cool Atomic Robo comic everyone is talking about.â€
Iâ€™m not joking.
Okay, on with my own blog . . .
Yâ€™know, for all your Atomic Robo news from Red5Comic you should bookmark THIS PAGE.
I finally found the DigPhilly video I appeared in. Itâ€™s the third video down. If that doesnâ€™t work you can check it out on YouTube. For the hours and hours they seemed to film me Iâ€™m only in this for a second. But since Iâ€™m full of self-love I enjoyed every second. I would really enjoy it if listening to my own strange voice, which sounds totally different inside my head, wasnâ€™t like nails on a chalkboard to me.
Speaking about me (and I will, since thatâ€™s really the only point of this blog), I was featured in the Union Leader this past Sunday. While not normally a paper I read, they did a follow up to that awesome web-based slideshow that Cheryl Senter made. (EDIT: I originally posted this blog with a childish and snarky rant in here. Another reminder that I should never post blogs when I’m cranky.)
Oh, some of my â€œAviation Friendsâ€ who I saw this weekend, (and who attempted to put me into a pulled-pork and deep fried pickle coma), pointed out that I did not â€œgive up a career in aviation to become an artistâ€. That seems to be the vibe they are getting from my recent media coverage. Iâ€™m not sure where it says this exactly, but I guess its implied that some sacrifice might have been made on my part?
For the record; I FUCKING HATED WORKING IN AVIATION. There were, of course, parts that I liked, but in general all of the wonderful and romantic reasons I got into flying were completely non-existent. Speaking in broad, sweeping terms, the industry is super conservative and inflexible. Often for good reasons -like safety and stuff. But more often out of dumb-ass pig headedness.
The work was (for me) mostly really boring, involving sitting and staring at the instrument panel and â€œmanagingâ€ the flight systems (i.e. pushing buttons, not flying), and or sitting at the airport staring at your captain wondering when the hell that jerk whoâ€™s paying a ton of money to have you sit there will show up so you can go home. When its not boring it tends to be mildly terrifying because some sort of emergency has broken the monotony of staring at the instrument panel.
Flight Instruction was a good deal more exciting than that -because one in three students seemed to be doing their best to kill you. And if it wasn’t them it was the weekend warriors you had to dodge flying in and out of the airport.
There were of course some magical moments â€“I broke lots and lots of non-sensicle FAA rules to have them. I saw some truly amazing things. But day in and day out in chafed me like wearing a damp speedo on a 30 klick backpacking trip.
A huge part of that is the mind-set of the industry. Lots of terrible mustaches and really really silly hats. That should tip of any semi-conscious observer. More than the hats and tacky uniforms, what really pushed this cat over the edge was the hierarchical nature of aviation. Like all conservative mindsets and institutions there is a built-in paradox. Everyone is super aggressively pro-personal freedom (fuck the greater good!), but totally emotionally dependent on a quasi-military pecking order.
â€œYouâ€™re not the boss of me! . . unless youâ€™re in a higher pay-grade, in which case Iâ€™ll do whatever you ask.â€
Hrmmm. . .
Then there was the obsessive need for conformity. Let me tell you the story about the actual moment that I decided to â€œpunch-outâ€ (if youâ€™ll forgive me a little Top Gun moment) of my career.
I had worked as a flight instructor at DWC for around two years. It was time to move on. I knew that I never wanted to work for the airlines but corporate flying sounded okay. Actually, what I really wanted to do was fly contract work for the Peace Corps in 3rd world countries â€“but my wife put the kaibosh on that plan. So I went to work for a small company flying a very cool aircraft.
I finished my â€œtrainingâ€ with this company and flew one trip with a very awesome Captain. But after that I was struggling to find the time to work for this new company while honoring my commitments to DWC and my family. Because, you see, this company didnâ€™t just hire you. You had to work freelance for a bit, to prove you had what it took. And so they didnâ€™t have to fire you â€“they just wouldnâ€™t hire you full-time if they didnâ€™t like you.
Meanwhile back at DWC I had health insurance, a 401K, and students who were rather dependent on me to help them graduate on time.
So one day I stop into this other companyâ€™s office and one of the management guys stops me on the way back to my car. We have a long conversation . . sort of. He talked *at* me and I grunted every so often to imply I was listening. Anyway, he goes on this ramble about how I need to really work harder to show how much I want to work for them, and how I need to start blowing off my commitments at DWC, how flight instruction is crap work, and I donâ€™t owe them (DWC, students, etc.) anything. Basically he showed me he was a scrupleless, self-serving sack of shit who I couldn’t trust. But I had already gleamed than during my training.
What really pushed me from feeling like a trapped rat who was none to sure about the future onto a higher plane of consciousness, from whose lofty peaks I was able to see the absurdity of my situation, was the next part of our conversation.
We talked about my beard. And not the beard you may have seen on the internet. No, weâ€™re talking about my Aviation Beard. I kept that shit G.Q. tight. It was trimmed daily (sometimes twice), it was neat, and it was sexy. It was a high speed, low drag kind of beard. But you donâ€™t see to many pilots with beards outside the Alaskan Wilderness, do you? Most people assume this is due to some regulation about oxygen masks and how they seal on your face. But to tell the truth, civilian oxygen masks donâ€™t work that way. Its just another mindless hold-over from the days when 95% of aviation was the Army Air Corps. And I was not conforming to something that was stupid. I get sort of mulie in those situations.
So this guy starts tell me how I should lose the beard in order to get ahead in the world. This is coming from a dude that literally looks like a Muppet. Like this guy more or less. No hair, awful 80â€™s porn mustache. If my life were an episode of The A-Team, he would have been that weekâ€™s hick-thug-antagonist. And he’s telling me how I should lose the beard so I fit in better.
Now, at that point I knew I had cancer again â€“but it was very minor, and easily treated and Iâ€™m fine. But as far as I was concerned the Universe was showing me a way out. And I took it. 2 and a half years later here I am.
No regrets. Well, none beyond all those years working in an industry that I just didnâ€™t belong in. But I wouldnâ€™t really change it because if Iâ€™d gone to art school instead I wouldnâ€™t have my amazing wife, nor would I have the great friends that I do. Then again, Iâ€™d probably have a different set of terrific friends and another awesome wife â€“but this sort of thinking is dangerous. (just kidding you guys!)
Then there was two years of struggle and confusion before the idea of becoming a comic book artists even occurred to me . . .
Okay enough of this. I have to put the finishing touches on KOD2 and get it put to bed. Enjoy the Union Leader article for what it is, but don’t go quoting it to your friends.
Random Splendor Time: