The commotion is that the flying man who always comes by has returned once again.

Continued from Wondermark #024
[ 💬 Comment thread on Discord ]

Introducing: The Devastator!

First, a quick Boston-n-Austin update: Thanks very much, kind Austinites, for your notes and emails — I think I’ll be covered! I’ll be writing back to you in the next day or two to follow up. And Bostonians: I’m looking forward to meeting you at The Asgard tonight! It might be a bit crowded, but please consider this your official permission to not be shy. I insist you come right up and say hello. Hope to see you there!

NOW THEN. The Devastator (pictured above) is a brand-new quarterly comedy anthology! The brainiacs behind the whole thing are my friends Amanda Meadows and Geoffrey Golden. Here’s a recent interview with The Apiary in which they talk about it. And guess what: I have an original Wondermark story in the book! It features Inspector Gadget. Yes. A Wondermark Inspector Gadget. He was so fun to make. It’s a fun little tale of a man with a thousand pounds of clockworks stuffed in his body. The small stories are the most universal.

Amanda and Geoffrey are funding the first issue using Kickstarter, meaning that in order to actually put the thing to print and pay all the contributors, they’re essentially doing pre-orders for the final book in the form of pledges. Pledge a little, and you’ll get a PDF or a hardcopy of the book; pledge more, and you can get all sorts of nifty limited-edition swag as well. But here’s how Kickstarter works: if the total amount isn’t pledged, then nobody pays anything — and the book doesn’t get made. But it’s so close right now! There’s about a week left in the pledge period, and at the time of this writing, it only needs about another $500. UPDATE: You are the best. That seems to me like a highly surmountable obstacle, so won’t you please check it out?

Oh and here is a video too!

IT’S DEVASTATOR TIME!! Thanks for your support!

Boston! Austin! B’Austin?

[audio:http://wondermark.org/audio/tmh_boston.mp3]

This weekend I’m at ROFLCon in Boston! (Well, Cambridge.) Kris Straub and I will be performing a live episode of our comedy podcast on Saturday as part of ROFLCon’s thrilling event schedule. I’ll also be bringing prints, posters, some books, etc. to ROFLCon as an exhibitor — but, as much as I hate to say it, ROFLCon tickets sold out some time ago. I just found out! So unfortunately, it’s too late to decide to go. We will be streaming the TMH show live online though, and we’ll be announcing that on the official TMH Twitter account (@tweethard).

But don’t despair! Kris and I will also be at The Asgard on Friday night (350 Massachusetts Avenue, Cambridge) for an informal meetup. Please come out from 9-midnight to say hello, shake hands, and if you like, get personalized copies of my books. (I’ll take orders and send them out later, probably.) We’ll also have special advance preview copies of our new Tweet Me Harder book, Hey World Here Are Some Suggestions — which I’m super-excited about, but about which I’ll say much more when it’s available online. BOSTONIANS: hope to see you there!

AUSTONIANS (does that work?): I’m coming to your town soon as well! I’ll be at the Renegade Craft Fair on May 15-16. As I’ve done a few times before, I would like to ask for your help! I would love to have an assistant at the booth each day that I’m there to hang out, chat with, help with merchandise and generally keep me from feeling lonely. If you’d be available one of those days, please email me!

Secondly, I am wondering if anybody would be willing to offer a place to ship a few boxes to? I’d love to get my books, etc. sent off ahead of me, but unfortunately this venue doesn’t offer receiving capabilities. If anyone would be willing to take delivery of three or four boxes of Wondermark merch and potentially help me get them to the show, I’d be tremendously grateful (and some of the stuff in those boxes may mysteriously stay with you as well).

Finally, if you have any suggestions for inexpensive lodging near the Palmer Events Center, please pipe up — I’m not familiar with the area and would love a local perspective. Thanks very much!

Welcome, NPR listeners!

This morning I was pleased to be on NPR’s Morning Edition (audio of the segment is available here). Along with Dr. Annetta Cheek from the Center for Plain Language, I discussed the Center’s upcoming ClearMark and WonderMark awards, which praise clear (and lambast confusing) business communication.

If you’re visiting this site from NPR, thanks for stopping by! “Wondermark” is a comic strip published twice a week, containing jokes on a variety of topics. For example, this episode in particular takes on the problem of confusing business documents.

The “random comic” button to the left of each comic will afford you a whirlwind tour of the site. There’s also this brief list of some of my favorite comics as well, which is a good Wondermark primer.

If you like the comics, you can subscribe to updates via email or RSS, Twitter or LiveJournal. I also have a personal Twitter where I say things like “Hey guys I was just on NPR!”

Finally, if you really like the comics, I have books, posters, prints, and so on available as well. It’s my primary source of income, and I rely on the kind support of readers like you!

WHICH REMINDS ME: The Onion A.V. Club just posted a great review of my latest book, Dapper Caps & Pedal-Copters. Thank you, A.V. Club! I am glad you liked the book — I like it very much myself, so it’s pleasing to see that our tastes are aligned. It just makes coexistence so much simpler.

This weekend: Festival of Books at UCLA!


(Flickr image from meekorouse)

I would like to thank everyone for their kind comments regarding my potential life-destroying move to Chicago! Although many folks weighed in with trenchant arguments both for and against the Windy City, I thought it’d be only fair to give my hometown a fair shake before making any final decisions. To that end, I’ll be appearing this weekend at the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books, on the UCLA campus!

The Festival of Books is a giant free event consisting of author panels, interviews, readings, and vendors, spread across the entire UCLA campus in Westwood. I’ll be there both days with books, comic prints, smiles and possibly sweet rhymes, sharing booth 704 with my friends and fellow cartoonists Keith Knight and Jose Cabrera. Please peruse the official programming for other events you may want to check out at the festival as well — while I won’t be doing anything more complex than simply hanging out at the booth to chat and meet with people, plenty of neat authors will be doing talks and readings throughout the weekend.

Now then! The UCLA campus is huge, and the official Festival of Books map looks like a placemat that might come with a child’s meal at a particularly unhealthy restaurant. Just look at that thing — it’s got flags, and bears, and treasure clues, and headache-inducing colors… everything a good, functional event-map needs, except any modicum of clarity. You can try your luck with it:

Or, just know that Booth 704 is near Dodd Hall, on the east side of campus. Here’s a Google Map directly to where I will be standing:


View Larger Map

Or, if you are a space traveler from the amazing future, just plug 34.072426, -118.439242 into your GPS brain-chip. Let’s see how that works. Now, I’m not 100% sure about the table placement — so If I’m not right there, just start walking in a spiral outward from that point. I won’t be too far.

The Science-Doktor’s Vengeance

Science-Doktor Vondurdauðahöfuðkúpa watched through the tall, sloped windows as Eyjafjallajökull began to spew clouds of brown, billowing ash.

“This will prove that I am serious,” he sneered, checking his command console for the blinking light that would indicate a phone message. Those fools at NATO headquarters had missed the deadline to respond — and now had paid for their impudence.

“Seriously weak,” came an echoing voice. Vondurdauðahöfuðkúpa whirled. Bond. But no matter — the volcano had been triggered. The Englishman was too late.

“It’s no use, 007,” Vondurdauðahöfuðkúpa shouted, pulling the Beretta PM12 into his hands. “There’s no stopping the volcano now! Europe will be blanketed in ash within days! They tried to play games with me,” he said, cocking the submachine gun and tracking the spy’s slow walk across the polished marble floor. Bond’s confident posture angered him. What did he have to be confident about? “Now they realize what a threat I really am!”

“I’m surprised you had the money to pull this off, Vondurdog,” Bond said coolly, tracing a finger along the lines of the command console. He looked like he was itching to turn a knob, press a button… but the spy showed commendable restraint. “After the whole banking debacle. You must have been very well invested.”

Vondurdauðahöfuðkúpa fumed. He knew. He had to know! “The Icelandic government is very hard-headed, it seems,” he growled. “I had a very simple ransom demand — and was left without even the courtesy of a reply. After that exercise of my power, you would have thought the world would have learned to listen!”

“Tsk, tsk, temper temper,” Bond cooed, and Vondurdauðahöfuðkúpa brought the Beretta up in rage. BRAPPPPP — Bond dove — and the geologic destabilizer controls went up in a shower of sparks. That cost fifty thousand krónur! Bond had goaded him into it. The rat was nowhere to be seen.

“This is just the beginning,” Vondurdauðahöfuðkúpa crowed to the empty room, slowly circling with the gun at the ready. Where was he hiding? “Eyjafjallajökull was just a throat-clearing. If my demands are not met, Katla will be triggered next — and it will drown all of Europe beneath a sea of ash and magma!”

“That’d be a good trick,” came the voice from across the room, and Vondurdauðahöfuðkúpa whirled, firing another long burst into the far corner. The glass face of the seismolostroyer console disintegrated into green dust. And with the click of his empty gun, Vondurdauðahöfuðkúpa knew it was over. Bond’s shadow felt somehow cold as it covered him.

Vondurdauðahöfuðkúpa spun quickly and tripped the spy. Bond’s voice-transmitter still active, the cry of pain seemed to come from the far corner of the room. A clever ruse! As Bond hit the ground, Vondurdauðahöfuðkúpa stomped on his wrist to dislodge the Walther from his hand — but Bond wrapped a leg around Vondurdauðahöfuðkúpa’s knees and brought the Science-Doktor down with him. They fought for the gun in silence, the sky outside darkening with the growing cloud from Eyjafjallajökull.

A shot rang out! Vondurdauðahöfuðkúpa flinched, his ears ringing from the sound and his hands burning from the powder — but he felt no bee-sting of a bullet, only the thin hum of some far-off machine spurting to life. “You’ll have to do better than that, 007,” he growled. But the spy only smiled.

The geologic destabilizer’s agitation-paddle caught Vondurdauðahöfuðkúpa in the side of the head, wrapping its auger-talons around his jaw and skull and dragging him across the room, chewing a furrow in the hard black floor. Vondurdauðahöfuðkúpa pulled at the talons with his fingers, but they were double-bonded titanium, designed to fight the pressures of plate tectonics. A man was no match for them — less so, a pane of tempered glass. The paddle pushed Vondurdauðahöfuðkúpa through the window and out into open air.

Then it stopped, the long arm of the paddle hovering above the burning, roiling mouth of Eyjafjallajökull, shards of glass falling to vaporize in mid-air. Vondurdauðahöfuðkúpa gaped back at Bond, who delicately brushed dust from the shoulders of his jacket.

“Well, do it,” Vondurdauðahöfuðkúpa squealed with as much force as his tight-gripped throat could muster, kicking his legs in the ash above the long drop to Hell. But Bond only smiled.

“Do you want to know why NATO never called?” he shouted through the window at Vondurdauðahöfuðkúpa. “Do you wonder why your ransom demands were never answered? Why nobody trembled in fear when you threatened to collapse the banks, or trigger the volcano?”

And then, as Vondurdauðahöfuðkúpa’s eyes bugged out high above the flaming glacier, Bond held up a single, severed telephone cable.

“They never even knew it was you.”


Recent blog posts