We continue to be shocked by the increasingly ridiculous, often ingenious purposes human beings are putting the Kinect sensor toward. I don't understand why this is happening, other than the Internet is rad, and it's put a lot of fascinating, comitted people in contact with one another who have subsequently merged to become Amalgama, she who is The All-God.

Duke Nukem is no doubt, and no argument, an organism which is guaranteed (indeed, engineered) to be offensive.  So, if we get offended...  does he win, somehow?  Is that how it works?  

Having rolled from fever to fever all weekend to find myself deposited here, before a blank editor, is startling to say the least. The last true memory I have is writing the last post, which was about getting the shit beaten out of you, a fact which almost invariably leads to beating the shit out of.

I posted this yesterday but it was way down at the bottom of the page so you might not have seen it. 

It's Episode One of a two parter, devoted to the new Child's Play Hire.  Which I could easily name.

It won't be terribly hard for you to find the video, if you haven't already seen it; the strip contains all the pertinent details.

Eitan Glinert from Fire Hose Games came by the office right before PAX, and it was nice to see him. We were overjoyed to have Slam Bolt Scrappers in our Boston Indie Showcase last year, and it clearly turned a few heads, including a head or two over at Sony. Also, Eitan is a Hebrew name, meaning “strong.” I was curious about that too.

Brian Crecente sends word of their noble mission, and having experience running multiple Rock Band events for Child's Play he's got the chops to pull it off. Hop over there, and see what you can do.

Here is today's strip, or strip shell at any rate, a comic Boboli, which can be filled with marinated chunks of history.

I neglected to mention it, but as is usual at the create a strip panel, audience suggestions are taken into account.  Gabriel will draw anything that is requested, and often solicits feedback about particular poses or gestures.  So it was on Saturday, when a young man flush with ponylove did request that such a beast be appended to the strip in the final panel.  Maybe it's his patronus or something; I didn't ask.  Brenna suggested that the pony was skulking around down there, as what she called a "sinister accomplice of evil," but I'm not certain that a pony can skulk.  I mean, physically.

I have been lying in bed feeling desolated in an essential way and powerless, as my ill-used larynx throbbed with the wages of a weekend spent in fervent communication, with a catalogue of odd metallic tastes making themselves known to me in a kind of perpetual rotation. I assume that is my esophagus collapsing, which is too bad, because I've found having an esophagus tremendously useful.

It's true. Here's a new 4th Panel, which is a little broader than usual, because it's got Sqoort and Krasp onboard talking about their own strips and upcoming projects.  

I was never taught any particular rule about using the restroom, I just know in my hidden bones that you

I really want to know what another ten years of increasingly ubiquitous Internet will do to a person. I've got two kids, and it's not too late. I'm seriously considering making one of them the control.