Friends, I would like to take a moment here to address something that may seem non sequitur. But believe me when I tell you it is of the utmost importance that you read these words and truly take the time to weigh their meaning.

Wired is currently taking nominations for the sexiest geeks of 2006. It is imperative that you consider putting your support behind Garrick T. Pass.

But don't just do this because I asked you to. Get to know the man, the legend the geek himself.

See, I know what you are saying now, what makes Garrick so f--king good? I don't f--kin' know, and I don't like it! I stay up going F--K! Why can't everybody f--kin' have it?

Cause this is the thing... Some people learn it on the streets. Some people learn it in the schools. Garrick was f--king born with it, homes... Check it out.

This is a man who put his life and kidneys in desperate peril only to snag a free Playstation 2. Did he stop drinking Diet Coke once he had accumulated enough points? No sir. He stayed on the path. This is a man who plays a werewolf/underwear model in Werewolf: The Forsaken!

But he's no poser. No sir ... he got the goods. He's a tech extraordinaire, dispensing useful hacks on his blog, as well as cutting diatribes about the state of I.T. The man debugged a Windows issue via e-mail from two thousand miles away! He is indeed a tech ninja ... nay, a tech Jedi.

All those smarts, and he's got a great wife and kid.

You and I have a rendezvous with destiny. We will preserve for our children this, the last best hope of man on Earth, or we will sentence them to take the last step into a thousand years of darkness.

We will keep in mind and remember that Garrick Pass has faith in us. He has faith that you and I have the ability and the dignity and the right to make our own decisions and determine our own destiny.

Thank you very much.

-- Andrew Moore

[Please note that this blog entry contains passages from "Cosmic Shame" by Tenacious D and Ronald Reagan's 1964 speech to endorse the candidacy of Barry Goldwater.]

Vincent's wings have been bothering me for some time now.

They're wrong. So wrong. I didn't do any research whatsoever when I first started drawing this thing back in high school, and although other aspects of the design have improved (posture, expression, line of action, etc.) his wings remain fixed in the original, crappy high school design.

Well, no more. When Vincent returns in December, I will have taken those broken wings and learned to fly again! (Sorry. It was either going to be Mr. Mister or Bette Midler. I stand by my choice.)

BEHOLD!

Note that these wings do not suck. Also, they look pretty cool. Vincent essentially has hands now. The way bat anatomy works, what would be his index finger is short enough he can use it as an index finger.

When he folds up his wings, they look much more different than before. They look better. They give his body nice mass and shape.

See what I mean? Now this is a bat who can fly.

In the second illustration above, you may notice that I tried pushing his nose out to give him more of a muzzle. It just doesn't work. So I'll keep his nose where it is. There are some pug-faced bats, after all.

So there. Something to look forward to as I continue to slog my way to the finish line of this stupid NaNoWriMo thing.

Folks, I'm taking the month off.

I've been doing this strip weekly for a while, and I feel comfortable enough in my productivity to say "screw it!" for a few weeks.

There is a nice, deep archive of strips now, so hopefully that will help take the sting out of this brief hiatus. If you desire something fresh and new, I recommend Thingpart by Joe Sayers.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go write a novel.

Peace out!

-- Andrew