Wednesday, April 27, 2022

Moving On From Furbulia (or Do I Have To?)

Sometimes you don't have a choice. Sometimes you have to do something, whether you want to or not. That's a lesson that everyone eventually learns, some earlier than others. 

Having to do something that you don't want to do can be really depressing. What's more depressing is doing something that you love to do, and then having those around you almost ruin it for you because they're being forced to do it. This was my experience with junior high choir and band.

Music has always been something that I excelled at, and in turn, something that I have truly loved. No matter how bad of a day I might have been having during my classes (or between classes) at school, that hour out of the day I spent in either band or choir would bring a smile to my face. And then the rest of the class would arrive.

Don't misunderstand, I wasn't the only one who legitimately wanted to be there. There were a number of us that actually enjoyed making music. But, there was a vocal minority of students that had to be there, didn't want to be there, and wanted to make sure everyone knew it. Some days the teacher spent more time trying to get people to stop talking between singing or playing than making music. And forget about time spent learning about things like keys and dynamics. Fortunately, the music teachers did offer a few of us who were interested in such things more personal learning opportunities. 

As such, I am of mixed feelings on the subject of required choir/band classes in junior high. On one hand, some of these kids might not ever think to explore music beyond what they learned in elementary school had they not been forced to sit though it, and they may find a new passion. On the other hand, it becomes a major challenge for both the students that want to be there, and the teachers, trying to wrangle kids who are only there because they are made to be. Given the choice, I would rather the students be exposed to music, then be allowed to decide whether it's something they want to continue to explore in high school.

How does this relate to this week's Furble strips? I shall explain:

Strip 46/166 - BOOM! There it is!

Furble and FC, who have been visiting their home world of Furbulia these past few weeks, are out stargazing with Furble's mother. Suddenly *BOOM* something appears in the sky, knocking everyone back. Looking like something out of the Wizard of Oz, it becomes (absurdly) obvious that this is a way for the duo to make it back to Earth. But, Furble and FC have only been home a short while, and haven't even discussed wanting to go back to Earth. So we just ignore it, right?

Strip 47/166 - A cyclone in space?

Well, there's no discussion. No thought of "maybe we can stay at home", "do we really want to head back to an alien planet?", or "hey, is it safe getting sucked up in a cyclone in space?". Apparently, this is one of those things that you need to do, no choice in the matter. If there had been a series of strips dealing with Furble trying to get back to Earth the same way he tried to get back home, or even brought the subject up in casual conversation, it would feel more natural. But, I decided to send them back to Earth. So, they say their brief good-byes and *POOF* they're gone. And, while they won't make it back to Furbulia again, they will travel the universe, and the readers will revisit the planet in the end.

Strip 48/166 - Same as it ever was

And, just like that, we're back on Earth. Seems that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Now, the only thing that Furble and FC have to do is survive Earth, once again.

Wednesday, April 20, 2022

A New Challenger Appears (or Much Ado About Nothing)

Every good story has an antagonist. Whether it's a specific individual or group of characters, or something more esoteric, like the environment or a situation, the hero always has some sort of foil that acts against them. Holmes had Professor Moriarty, Superman had Lex Luthor, Frodo faced the elements of Middle Earth in his quest to destroy the One Ring

In my own personal story, I have certainly had antagonists.  As I think back on events during any particular school day, while many of my classmates would join in on the bullying, two or three specific kids would usually initiate the behavior. It helps to put into perspective how people acted around me. Some people, while I wouldn't classify them as "friends" necessarily, would at least leave me allow, unless one of the antagonizers was around. Whether you call it mob mentality or wolf pack mentality, it made me wonder what I did to attract their ire. Truth is, probably nothing. Nothing beyond being different.

Back on fictional antagonists, comic strip characters have their own, from Susie Derkins for Calvin, to the kite-eating tree for Charlie Brown, to Mondays for Garfield. I felt it was time to give Furble a proper villain. Thus, our mysterious alien admiral was born.

Strip 43/166 - Definitely not a Muppet

These new aliens bear more than a passing resemblance to the Martian Muppets from Sesame Street. But, they were actually modeled off of some little alien finger puppets that my mom had crocheted. I wanted something that was completely different from the aliens that we were already familiar with in the strip, and these little guys fit the bill. The ship was loosely based on the profile of the Star Destroyers from Star Wars, with a bit of Star Trek terminology thrown in for good measure.

On a side note, beginning with the last two strips from last week and continuing, I decided to start signing each strip with my full first name "Marcus" as opposed to "Marc" (even though the by-line in the paper continued to say "Marc" for the run of the strip). Not sure why I made the change.

Strip 44/166 - Well, that's not creepy at all

We've got an alien creeping around Furbulia, scaring poor defenseless Furbulians, making them faint. Truly evil. Of course, the real oddity of this strip is the fact that (presumably) fictional media on Furbulia includes depictions of Martians. I suppose that it is not beyond the realm of possibility that Martian explorers could have made it to Furbulia as well as Earth. In reality, "Martian" becomes a term interchangeable with "alien". Since we're already dealing with aliens (compared to humans), Martians become inception-level aliens. Don't think about it too hard, it hurts.

Strip 45/166 - And just like that...

It's worth noting that the last strip here was actually the first strip of the next month of comics. I'm pretty sure, like other stories, I had more in mind for the alien admiral (maybe even a name). But, somewhere between finishing the previous month's submissions and starting the next month's, that changed, and I decided to bring the conflict to an abrupt (and absurd) end. Probably no more absurd than a high school student having his comic published in the local newspaper. Embrace the absurd.

And, don't worry: like all good antagonists, he'll be back...

Wednesday, April 13, 2022

Scenes from a Planet (or Proof That Video Games Don't Rot Your Brain)

I've established previously that, while we lived in Kiester, I did not have many people my age I could call good friends. I shared a variety of interests with the ones that I did have. One of the things that we all seemed to be able to enjoy together was video games.

My family had a Commodore 64 at the house. In between sessions of my mom learning the spreadsheet program, or learning assembly code, my brothers and I would spend hours playing games of all kinds on the machine. Of course, back then, loading games from 5.25 inch diskettes took a not insubstantial amount of that time. This in turn gave us more incentive to spend more than a couple of minutes with any game that we managed to get loaded. A far cry from the "instant" availability of apps on our smart phones.

I spent hours on exploration games like Phantom of the Asteroid, shooters like R-Type and Gradius, and arcade ports like Pole Position and Bubble Bobble. Sometimes I would play a game until I finally finished it (assuming there was an ending), but more often than not I played until I got to a particularly frustrating part, and went on to something else, usually after throwing a controller across the room. I was, however, known to put multiple hours into games because I just needed to see where they went.

My friends allowed me access to systems and games that I wasn't able to play at home. One friend had a TI-99/4A, and we played tons of unique games there. His father had an IBM PC, and we spent a fair amount of time playing the original King's Quest point-and-click game. He also had a Commodore computer (a C-128), and we spent a particularly sleepless summer weekend getting as far as we could playing Ultima IV.

Another friend was the owner of the coveted (at the time) Nintendo Entertainment System. I'm not exaggerating when I say that, in our adolescent minds, it was the ultimate form of entertainment. Finally we had access to games that were as good as the ones we were playing in the arcades, at home! I couldn't begin to count the hours that we spent playing games on the NES. We completed Super Mario Bros without using warps. We completed Contra (even though we used the infamous "Konami code" to do it). Sessions of these games interspersed with Rad Racer races and Duck Hunt hunts kept us busy when we weren't outside wandering around town.

I think my ability to focus my attention on these games for long periods of time in order to get good enough to complete them, or at least to not completely suck at them, helped me to be able to continue with Furble, even when the creative going got tough.

Strip 40/166 - Look ma! No TV!

With the first pane of this strip showing the front page of the local Furbulian newspaper (and being surrounded by gallery strips), you'd be forgiven for thinking that this was just another gallery strip. But it actually fits into the narrative of Furble at home on Furbulia. The confusion is further compounded by the fact that this is the sole strip dealing with "everyday life" for Furble as he's visiting his home. I originally intended to make the stay on Furbulia much longer. I know I did, because I can recall many of the ideas that I had for the strip at the time. But, once again, inexplicably I changed course, and in a couple of weeks we head back to Earth.

Strip 41/166 - Fascinating!

The real question that this gallery strip poses: why is there a need to make the perfectly flat (and rectangular) Furbulia appear to be a normal round planet? Was there actually a round-Furbulia conspiracy group responsible for all of these contrivances, trying to convince the populace that no, they won't fall off the edge of the planet, even though it's apparent that they will? It's the kind of thought process that really doesn't merit further consideration. Furbulia is flat. The Furbulian equivalent of Pythagoras rolls in his grave.

Strip 42/166 - Evolution goes "boink" (to paraphrase Watterson)

We end with a call-back to the weird evolutionary development on Furbulia that seems to defy the time-space continuum. Boink, indeed.

But, something is coming to change the course of Furble and FC's journey...

Wednesday, April 6, 2022

Creative Tides Go In and Out (or Not This Again)

I think it is safe to say that in any creative endeavor there comes a time when one's creative juices do not flow as freely as they might normally. In my experience, it ebbs and flows like the ocean tides. Musicians will go through creative spurts where they write and release their most popular music ever. But then at some point it slows down, and they are either releasing music that doesn't seem to catch on quite as well as their older stuff, or they take a break from writing and concentrate on something else for a while. Hopefully, given enough time and inspiration, that creative spark appears once again.

Previously, I talked about the introduction of the "gallery" strip in Furble, weekly asides from the main storyline that I ended up using when I couldn't come up with a good idea for a particular week. They are not my best work, and if I were to go back and "edit" history, I would likely remove them, or at the very least heavily revise them. Most of the time, the jokes simply didn't land, but they occasionally provided tangentially relevant information. Thus, the existence of the three following strips:

Strip 37/166 - FMoMA

The impetus of the strip is the old joke with a blank piece of white paper actually being a painting of white cows in a snowstorm. Much like other "gallery" strips, I should have used the fourth pane to do another painting joke, instead of trying to wrap the whole thing in a punchline, which did not land. This strip also highlights another aspect of many of these strips: a stunning lack of any drawing (besides the painting frames). When you go less creative, you go all in!

Strip 38/166 - Don't listen to those "Round Furbulia" nuts!

At some point in junior high, I first became aware that, even though I had moved on from the concept of a "flat earth" sometime in elementary school, there were fully functional (I assume) adults out there who held firmly to the belief. I thought it would be fun to turn the idea on its head, and actually make Furbulia a flat planet, a concept that I'm pretty sure doesn't exist in reality in our universe. Why it is rectangle shaped is anyone's guess.

Again, the strip is conveyed using primarily text. Although the concept is tangentially related to the overall story, I still consider it akin to the "gallery" strips. It was much easier to pull off than regular story strips due to the reliance on text as opposed to art. At least the joke worked a bit better here. 

Strip 39/166 - It probably wasn't that funny, anyway

Yeah... it probably wasn't actually that funny. As an aside, Furble laughing looks positively psychotic. I should have redone that.

We can only hope that the creative tides flow sooner than later.

Wednesday, March 23, 2022

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig (or How I Survived My Bullies)

A lot to unpack this week, so here we go...

I want to address something that I have wanted to talk about in this blog. One of the main reasons that I wanted to do this project (with the exception of remastering my comic and getting it out there), is the subject of bullying, specifically my experiences.

I was bullied pretty mercilessly from 7th grade until I left Kiester at the end of 11th grade. I was a socially awkward kid with no athletic ability (or interest), who would rather spend time playing video games and Dungeons and Dragons than cruising main street. Essentially a geek and a nerd before they were cool. There were many vectors to attack me personally. and the kids at school managed to take advantage of pretty much all of them. My looks were a popular topic of scorn. Suffice it to say, my self-esteem was beyond low.

They would take any opportunity to mess with me during the school day. We had to provide our own locks for our lockers. I decided I wanted to get a cool looking combination lock where you pressed numeric buttons rather than turning a dial. It didn't take long for one of them to figure out the combination and start stacking my locker. For the uninitiated, "stacking" someone's locker consisted of taking their stack of books/papers/etc, placing something on the bottom that unbalanced the stack on the top shelf of the locker, closing the door, and waiting for the subject to open the door, causing the books/papers/etc to fall all over the floor. I knew it well, it happened many times. I soon replaced the cool combination lock with a simple key lock.

My grandfather committed suicide while I was in seventh grade. I had a hard time processing it, and I got emotional about it in school from time to time in the days after. Most people would have had some level of compassion, or at least would have been apathetic about it. But, my classmates made sure I knew that showing such emotion was a sign of weakness that could be exploited.

I'm glad that social media didn't exist back then. It was bad enough that I had to deal with the bullying at school, and on the bus the way there and back home, but at least at home I could escape it all. My parents would have kicked each and every one of their asses if they thought that would have helped, but they knew that wasn't the answer.

I did have a few friends on which I could depend to at least not join in on the bullying. They didn't stand up for me against my bullies, and I can't blame them. They would have opened themselves to similar attacks, and in such a small school in such a small town, there would be no way to hide from that. I didn't hold it against them. 

If I wasn't at home on the farm, I was in town at one of my friends' houses. At times during the summer I spent almost as much time at my friend Eric's house as I did at my own. Sometimes you just need a place that is away from everything, and Eric's house was that place.

The one oddity in the bullying is that, with a single exception, my comic never came into it. I'd like to think it was a modicum of respect for actually doing the comic, but more than likely it simply wasn't worth trying to bully me over it. The only time it was brought up was when one of the kids, who went by the nickname "Furry" as his last name sounded similar, demanded to know whether or not I was making fun of him by calling the comic "Furble". I assured him that I was not, and it stopped there. Believe me, making fun of any of them was the furthest thing from my mind.

It's fairly telling that I am no longer in contact with any of them on even a semi-regular basis (with the exception of being Facebook friends with a few, which doesn't really count), and my life is none-the-worse for it. When we moved from Kiester, I had to leave Furble behind, but I also left all of that animosity behind. My senior year of high school in Nebraska was the complete opposite of the last 6 years in Kiester, full of fun and friends who I actually talk with to this day. Kiester will always be my home, but there are substantial parts of that home that I choose not to remember on a regular basis.

Strip 33/166 - Catching a ride to Furbulia

I wish I could explain my lettering starting with this strip. It doesn't look anything like it started out as. Much clearer, straighter, and well-positioned than it ever was. Of course, my dialog still left something to be desired, but baby steps..

12 million miles to Furbulia is going to require a fast ship. Better get to work catching one.

Strip 34/166 - Home again

And, just like that, we're finally on Furbulia. I am particularly proud of the house that I drew in the first pane. The style came from artist Mark Kistler. He was the host of a drawing program on PBS called The Secret City Adventures. He would spend each episode teaching different drawing techniques, like shading and perspective. During each episode, he would take those techniques and add to a huge sci-fi themed mural in the studio. I filled notebooks with drawings in his style, using the techniques that I had learned watching the show. The house is directly inspired by those drawing techniques.

Strip 35/166 - Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes!

Of import is that, apparently, the beings on Furbulia have undergone some changes since Furble has been away. I decided to make a noticeable distinction with the new character in order to make it easy to determine the difference in the characters from a visual standpoint. Of course, I could have just done something like adding a hat, but this approach seemed more ridiculous and fun, the idea that in such a short amount of time life evolved so much on his home planet. And, not just that, but obviously the current lifeforms somehow mutated. I know, it's the direct opposite of science. But where's the fun in sticking to established scientific theories?

Finally, we admit that Furble and FC have, indeed, been using thought balloons this whole time. Who's fault is that? Apparently, it's mine (fourth wall break, POW!).

Strip 36/166 - Vive la evolution!

Doubling down on the idea that Furble's mom sprouting legs and arms, and speaking using speech balloons as opposed to thought balloons is all a result of evolution. Yes, I know. That's not how it works. That's not how any of this works. But its all in service of fun.

What conclusions should you take away from this particular post? 

It gets better. 

No, bullies aren't likely to evolve beyond their Neanderthal ways, but I hope that the bullied can find somewhere to call home, even if it isn't home. I was fortunate to have a good home, and a good home away from home. Not everyone is as blessed. Those that are need to step up and help those that don't. They're not going to ask for help, because they don't want to rock the boat, don't want to make it worse than it already is, don't want to get others involved in a bad situation. Get involved. Change a life. Be a home.

Wednesday, March 16, 2022

In Space, No One Can Hear You Laugh

There's something about space that is just fascinating. The existential dread of infinity combined with the wonder of discovery and the danger of no atmosphere creates a situation that simply cannot be ignored, and must be admired. At least, that's my take on it.

Space may not be everybody's jam, but I've been fascinated by it ever since I got my first telescope when I was 9, I believe. It wasn't high-tech, but it was enough to allow me to see things like the moon up-close, discovering things that I'd only read about in my elementary science books. The astronomy unit of my junior high science class really piqued my interest, not just because there was a more intense focus on the science, but because we actually got the chance to do some stargazing.

Picture it: 4 am on a crisp (read: freezing) autumn morning in Minnesota. Myself and a few of my classmates are standing outside our teacher Mr. Kapplinger's house, bundled in our winter gear, sipping hot chocolate, trying to stay warm enough to enjoy the view of the moon and stars through the high-tech reflecting telescope. It was truly amazing, way beyond anything I was able to see with my telescope. It made the frigid conditions bearable.

Strip 29/166 - Fly me to the moon

I did see "the man in the moon", or at least the configuration of craters and plateaus that ancient people used to attribute to a figment of lunar pareidolia.

He never talked to me, though.

I'm not sure how our duo managed to come upon a random rocket blasting past lunar orbit, but it certainly was a bit of luck for them.

Strip 30/166 - Approximately 3,720 to 1

Now that Furble and FC have made it into deep space, the strip starts to get a bit more serialized, as we head towards home. Given how tiny they both are, these asteroids that they happen upon are likely quite small, in comparison to the asteroids we usually see in movies. But, the odds of surviving them are bound to be the same, right C-3PO?

Strip 31/166 - Dun, dun, duh!

The first "official" multi-part strip, designated by the "To Be Continued" tag at the end.

Because I didn't want Furble's home planet to be just around the cosmic corner from Earth, so to speak, I needed to come up with some sort of plot device to send them a long distance in a short time. I considered some sort of FTL ship that they would chance upon, but settled on what is likely a wormhole, although I don't actually specify what the anomaly is. Although the concept was name-dropped during the original Star Trek: The Motion Picture, the anomaly as we now know it (a corridor across space-time, or an Einstein–Rosen bridge) gained popularity in Star Trek: The Next Generation, and then Star Trek: Deep Space 9, where it was a starring feature of the series. Fortunately, the "giant doughnut" propels our heroes across the galaxy without a solid scientific explanation.

Strip 32/166 - Signs! Signs! Everywhere there's signs!

Furble and FC both exit the anomaly, apparently unscathed. And, in what has increasingly become a running gag in the strip, they are greeted by yet another sign, this one pointing the way home. I mean, how else are you going to find your way through the black inkiness of space without some sort of directional sign? What are they going to find when they finally get back home? Fascinating...

Wednesday, March 9, 2022

Sports, Rockets, and Thought Balloons

I was never very good at sports. This is an indisputable fact. Although my dad didn't really pressure me into them, he did want me to at least give them a try. He was a wrestler in school, so that was one of the sports that I did end up trying while I was in junior high. While I enjoyed the process, I was not a good wrestler. I just didn't have the dedication that it would have taken to be a good wrestler. There were too many other things that I wanted to be doing with my time. Most had to do with computers or music. Wrestling simply wasn't on that list.

We were forced to do track and field events in PE. I ran the mile in... well... I'll let you know when I finish. I did a fair job at the shot put. But, my true contributions to the sports world lie in being an equipment manager, a scoreboard operator, and a member of a variety of pep and marching bands. And, once I got to college, producing sports for broadcast. I do, however, enjoy spectating a wide variety of sports. Being from Minnesota, hockey is one of my favorites, but I also enjoy a good game of football. 

Strip 25/166 - Punt into orbit? Not likely.

I'm not sure what clicked in my brain when I decided to have Furble and FC try to hitch a ride off-planet on a football, but the visual of them flying through the air down-field after a kickoff struck me as funny, so there it is.

Obviously, our heroes aren't making it into orbit on a pigskin punt, and a cleated shoe to the backside probably left a bruise, but at least the got to take in a game, right?

Strip 26/166 - Finally, a ride home?

When I was growing up, my brother and I were members of an organization called 4-H. It is a kids organization, similar to the Scouts, and was at the time, at least, primarily for those of us in rural areas. While many of the activities in 4-H centered around more farm-related pursuits, there were clubs for things like computers and rocketry. I was involved with both. I've since made computers my career, but I really have a love for rockets. While I was never truly artistic when it came to decorating my model rockets, I did enjoy building them and launching them. Seeing something that you built fly up into the air and (hopefully) come safely sailing down on a parachute was just awesome. Of course, the failures had their own spectacular allure, as well, which included at least one (small) explosion on the launch pad, and a rocket driven into the ground when the ejection charge fired, but the nose cone failed to separate from the fuselage.

It only makes sense, then, that our duo would finally make it off-world on a rocket. In the 80s, the NASA space program was all about the space shuttle, so manned rocket launches were virtually nonexistent, which meant that this particular launch was likely for satellite delivery into orbit. Obviously, even if it was manned, it wasn't going to make it to where ever Furble's home planet was located, but they didn't know that.

Strip 27/166 - An unexpected exit

The continuation was loosely inspired by The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, specifically when Arthur Dent and Ford Prefect find themselves ejected into deep space from the Vogon fleet. Fortunately, and perhaps inexplicably, Furble can exist in the vacuum of space (FC is a robot, after all). Who knew?

Strip 28/166 - Space is a busy place

I want to take a moment and address something that I have yet to talk about: the fact that Furble and FC communicate with thought balloons. If you will remember, the original idea for doing Furble was sparked by the comic strip Garfield. In that strip, while Jon and the other humans used regular speech balloons for all of their dialog, Garfield and all of the animals communicated with the audience and each other using thought balloons. Obviously, this is because animals don't talk. At least, not to us. The easiest way to convey to the audience that Jon can't hear what Garfield and Nermal are saying is to use thought balloons. 

I don't recall why this translated to Furble in the way that it did. Perhaps it was to indicate that Furble and FC were using a language that no one on Earth, at least not humans, could understand. As a teenager, I certainly wasn't equipped to create a new language (I was having enough of an issue learning Spanish in school). But I don't believe I had put that much thought into it.

I bring it up, because it will soon become an issue, as our intrepid explorers make their way back home. But we'll need to round the bases first...