Man Rant -- This Week's Exercise -- Razors

When exactly did the worldwide tiny flat piece of metal commodities market heat up into critical mass?  It's probably been a couple of years, maybe as much as a decade, but the rising price of disposable razors is horrifying.  As we skip-de-my-lou our way towards the apocalypse, it seems that there are certain items which when the Road Warriors start to raid, we will hide and hoard behind heavily armored compounds based on their current commodity selling price:  oil, gold, Twilight-related items, and razors.

Frankenstein's Spam!

They bloated me with science.

Pork.  Grown in a petri dish.  Lab meat.  PETA and the Vegetarian Society have already signed off on the ethics of it, which I assume as long as it doesn't involve Elsie the Cow meeting Anton Chigurh, generally passes muster.  And I was already looking forward to a future with tasty, tasty Soylent Green.   

Golden Age Artist Spotlight - L.B. Cole

Creator of some of the most vivid and recognizable covers of the late 40s and 50s, L.B. Cole illustrated over 1500 covers, and drew just about everything, from funny animals to superheros to horror books.  According to the sparse biographical information available at Wikipedia and other sources, Cole started out in the lithography business, then switched to comics in the early forties. 

Like some of his other contemporaries, Alex Schomburg, Mac Raboy, Matt Baker, Lou Fine, etc., Cole made his mark with lurid, action-packed covers that virtually jumped off the newstands.  Representative samples provided after the jump.

Enjoy!

"Solitude: A Sweet Absence of Looks" - Milan Kundera

Loneliness is transmittable.

"Ray, we need to talk."

"Sure, what's up?"

Tiger Woods Can Drive A Ball 300 Yards, But Can't Drive a Car 100 Yards - Ha Ha

The vultures of the media are circling. Tiger Woods has just cancelled out on his own event, claiming that he needs to rehab his injuries caused by his accident. By all accounts, he took the brunt of the damage to his grill, with cuts to his lips. But he's claiming soreness, pain that won't allow him to hit little white balls and walk a golf course for four or five days. Maybe he is really dinged up, but only his close personal entourage can say for sure. And that appears to be a major problem.

There are two main issues here. Firstly, the haters are coming out of the woodwork regarding Tiger's decision to circle the wagons and not talk to local Orlando area law enforcement. Second, the wall of secrecy is in full East Berlin mode.