Scandal.

In question was a McDonald’s billboard that I witnessed on my way to work this morning. I don’t have a picture of the advertisement, so I’ll illustrate.

BILLBOARD: A lonely, non-scrambled egg sits silently bemoaning it’s existence. A glorious Egg McMuffin, encased inside a cloudy thought balloon, rests overhead.

CAPTION: “What every egg dreams of becoming.”

Modern marketing has always been one of those things that stops me from ever watching television. As a secular person and devout agnostic, I usually refrain from engaging in any form of what I would consider product or hero worship, with the exception of a young senator from Illinois. Having watched a good amount of television in the past, and being a living, breathing human being with eyes and ears, my exposure rate to advertisements probably ranks higher than any person born before the 1970s, and it is a daily-affirmed goal to try and avoid any typical noise about discount sales or the world’s number one golf ball provider.

But try as I might, this one slipped in there, and it’s been rattling around my brain all day long.

Not the mechanics of said advertisement, mind you. I certainly remember that fifth grade instructional video, shown to us in warning before lunch hour. I’m aware of the horse-shoe glue used to give the bacon that extra gooey glisten, and the mounds of hidden push pins that keep each layer of foodstuff in place for the two hour photo shoot.

What kept me thinking was the egg. It’s life and it’s aspirations.

“What every egg dreams of becoming.”

First I put myself in the mindset of the egg. Out of the many roads I might take in egg-life, what was so special about becoming an Egg McMuffin? Would I understand that I would not physically BE an Egg McMuffin, but would merely be the egg IN the Egg McMuffin? My egg matter would not be enough to account for that slab of ham or those flaky buns. Sort of how Blue Beetle is a pretty capable character, but he’s only really kicking ass when he’s joined up with the Justice League. And when he’s not dreaming about Herb Peterson.

Blue Beetle is the Egg to Justice League’s McMuffin. Did that register? Okay.

Second question is why does an egg aspire at all? The pathways in life for an egg are few. A: it becomes a chicken. B: it is processed, scrambled, boiled or battered as foodstuff for humans or small reptiles. C: young kids hurl it at peoples houses during Halloween.

But if choice B is preferable, if all an egg really wants to do is satiate other creatures, is this an egg that is aware of the consequences of that process? What are the range of emotions experienced by the egg inside an Egg McMuffin, as it is torn into and digested by morning commuters? Does it acquire sensory perception during this act ?

Is it pleasurable?

And how long is the egg aware of it’s own consuming? If the center of the egg’s self lies merely within a single consciousness, void of pain receptors and physical stimulation, then how long does that consciousness stay in a static location? Does it only exist in the part uneaten, or before it goes through the modes of preparation? Are sections that have been chewed off and swallowed now new material, something non-egg? Does this egg die?

So far I’ve fought an urge to call McDonald’s advertising division to ask some of these pressing questions, as I feel there may be an untapped narrative here.

Imagine a graphic designer, fully educated with a masters degree, given the menial task by some ad executive to create billboards for a breakfast sandwich that probably comes in a can and is heated up in the microwave. Hunched over a portfolio brimming with beautiful illustrations, this man or woman gnashes their teeth and beats their chest, aspirations fading of designing for some upstanding publication, like Kerrang! Magazine.

But they’ll show them, those corporate pigs who wouldn’t know a Buscema from a Davis. This ad will be different. This ad will be humanizing! This will be a story, a philosophical concept, plastered within fourteen by eighteen feet of unadulterated, American advertising.

Man, I’m hungry for some McDonalds.

-Tucker

Tucker Lucas feels that if Blue Beetle is the egg, then Booster Gold is the bun and Martian Manhunter is the bacon.

Currently listening to the sounds of Amiina, music not made for mortal ears.

Their album Kurr has been what I’ve played each night before going to sleep the past few days. They round out a long list of “lullaby” albums I’ve used in the past, the best of which would probably be the Blade Runner soundtrack by Vangelis. I like the way sounds play tricks on my dreams when I’m sleeping, and these four ladies usually keep me on track riding a mechanical greyhound in a race against Ahab and his white whale.

This is the first time I’ve heard something beautiful come out of a saw.

I picked up the first pocketbook edition a few summers ago while I was doing summer Shakespeare, and was hooked ever since. What particularly drew me was Moore’s illustrations of women, and how strong the female characters were. It was around this time that I began scripting Mercedes Ray.

Usually in comic books, female characters have the proportions of a Barbie doll. But with SiP, the women were real, and really beautiful! Over the story’s progression, you see characters fluctuate in weight, hair style, complexion, all sorts of things that just made the world become so much more alive. Besides, how could you go wrong with a kick-ass, bisexual, female, blonde artist named Katchoo who has more moves than Batman on a good day?

SiP ended last year, but luckily Moore is already churning out a new series, this time a superheroesque title called Echo.

Echo follows an amateur photographer named Julie Martin (if it had been Stan Lee writing this I’d imagine her name would be Julie Julianna or something), who is wandering around the desert taking pictures when an experimental battle suit explodes overhead. Pieces of the suit fall onto her and her truck, beginning to form what looks like will become some sort of exoskeleton battle suit.

A first as far as I’ve read in comicdom is Julie’s struggle with divorce. She refuses to sign the papers while her husband Rick wants nothing to do with her. She also has an older sister stuck in a mental hospital, and a dog who she can’t afford to feed.

Not so sure about this one yet. Luckily the same real world detail is present, and Moore’s ability to write strong leading women still rival’s Joss Whedon.

Not the worst way to celebrate I suppose.

The two Terry’s from the Pythons have both done some directing since the team split up, but I’m not certain which one I would call the more successful. Gilliam has of course Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (1998) and Brazil (1985), whereas Jones has Erik the Viking (1989)… yeah okay. Nevermind.

Just finished watching Lolita (1962) by Stanley Kubrick. It’s been sitting on my shelf from Netflix for a few months, along with Sleeper (1973) by Woody Allen, and thought I should knock those two off. Lo was very good, though even without having read the original source material, I can see the finger prints from the grubby mits of the pious and profane censors.

And I don’t want to forget to mention how much Peter Sellers kills in this movie.

I’ve never seen the 1997 version with Jeremy Irons, and I’m not sure when I’ll get around to it. I like seeing multiple versions of a film, but I usually try to space it out a bit. I watched the recent version of Solaris only last winter, and I’m still not ready to see the original.

My last shift at the Fargo Theatre is coming up this Saturday. It ends at 7pm. I won’t cry, but I may go and “celebrate”. Who’s with me?

Christopher Hitchens is someone I admire. I feel inspired to create a personal heroes page.

I’ve been slowly but surely working my way through The Once and Future King by T.H. White over the past two years, and I’m just about getting through the Wart’s edification. Maybe it’s a lost cause? I first picked it up in 2004 after performing in a production of Camelot, but it’s never really hooked me. I should stop being stubborn and just put the damn thing down, BUT I KNOW IT GETS GOOD LATER ON. Soldier through, soldier through.

Edwards endorsed Obama. My heart is a-flutter.

All and all a fine mom’s day was had. I’ve posted a Snaturday comic I made for my roommate Sarah in the Comics section on the nav bar to the right. It’s pretty crude humor, which I make no effort to disguise, just fair warning.

I just finished reading a fantastic graphic novel by Craig Thompson called Blankets. The story follows Craig’s life growing up in an Evangelical family, telling of his first love in high school and how it challenged the beliefs he held. I ended up finding some parallels to my own life, the main differences being we were Catholic and I shared a room with a younger sister. Definitely check this one out.

By the way, who is excited for Flight of the Conchords on Tuesday?

This guy!

-MT

Maybe it’s the summer air, or maybe it’s the shedding of old responsibilities, but I’ve been in a minimalist mood as of late. So welcome to the new, practically design-less site, which I’m liking a lot. Some older remnants from the brown site remain, like old buttons with brown outsides. When I’ve got some time I’ll work to correct this, and find a way to embrace a wholly new, minimalist style.

But just because it’s minimalist doesn’t mean there shouldn’t be pictures!

(EDIT: According to dictionary.com, revertion is in fact not a word. Fuck you DICKtionary.com!)

Nah, just means I’m enlightened.

If you haven’t checked out the website www.badastronomy.com, well, what the fuck is wrong with you? One of the most interesting blogs in the blogosphere, I highly recommend it. Phil Plait’s a pretty smart guy as you’ll see.

And now, a video of some of my baby bunnies. Anbody want one??