Dear Bauder College,
Thank you for your interest in the field of Graphic Design. I found your newest television commercial, in which a representative for your school cheerfully proclaims “Not an artist? It doesn’t matter anymore!”, to be particularly exciting as it helped prove a point that I’ve long been trying to convey to my colleagues in the arts. The reason I’m writing this open letter to you is to express my happiness that you’ve had the guts to take a Post-Modern leadership position on what makes a person an artist. Thank you for stating unequivocally, as an institution of higher learning, that sophisticated graphics software has finally reached a state that eliminates the requirement that the operator have even a passing knowledge of Continue Reading

Up until about a month ago I’d never been to a hockey game in my life. I knew nothing of the sport other than that it was loud, cold, involved the consumption of copious amounts of beer and often involved bench clearing brawls. Sure, I’ve ice skated a few times in my life and I’ve owned an official team jersey for going on two years, but that’s just because I spilled ice cream all over my shirt at an arena football game and decided that the Atlanta Thrashers jersey was the best looking option in CNN Center (a decision greatly aided by beer). But nothing had prepared me for the electric thrill of this game. Finally, thanks to my friends Lisa and Lawrence Sharp, I have a much broader, more comprehensive understanding of the complexities of the sport. For instance, the hockey girls in the blue sweaters and miniskirts Continue Reading

A friend just emailed me a link to The Sunday Paper’s website where they’re asking for nominations for their “Best of Atlanta” awards. You can click here to go to their poll (a link which is certain to stop working a month or so after this is posted), or you can continue reading to see how I voted. Notice that I left blanks for places I didn’t have opinions. How would YOU vote? Post your picks in the comments section~ Continue Reading

Note to Charles Brewer: I visited Serenbe today, had my cake (actually a chocolate chip cookie) and ate it too. Dude, I told you it could be done.
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I’d like to thank the Cirque du Soleil for bringing “Corteo” to Atlanta’s Atlantic Station this month. I needed a good birthday present for my Mom and your fantastic show arrived in the nick of time.
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I work in the same building as all of the Clear Channel radio stations (AM640 WGST, 96 Rock, Peach 94.9, Viva, etc). A few weeks ago they fired the morning DJs on 96Rock and a week or so later they flat out changed the format of the station, jettisoning its name and re-badging it as “Project 9-6-1“, a faceless jukebox station with no local flavor.
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I hope it isn’t true but I just found out that the guys who host Atlanta’s 96Rock morning radio show “The Regular Guys” (Larry Wachs and Eric Von Haessler) may have had their show cancelled for the second time in two years and I’m not very happy about it. The occasion of their first dismissal was due to FCC fine-attracting audio, sloppy engineering and the lack (or patent misuse) of a tape delay. Their employers, the increasingly-loathed Clear Channel Communications, kept them off the air for over a year. Upon the duo’s return, much of the foundations of their original Atlanta format had been pruned back severely: several (arguably) popular sidekicks had been jettisoned, lost to other timeslots or hauled away in the dumpster. The occasion of this second dismissal is so asinine that I can’t believe it isn’t a publicity stunt (if only it were).
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Update: Now there are videos about us on YouTube! Take a look at us in the DragonCon Parade, here’s a closer angle and here’s the news report where Alfeo and I are interviewed. Track all the new photos of our costumes on Flickr! If you’ve missed earlier posts about my cardboard robots don’t miss reading about how it all started, our 2005 box costumes, the cardboard underwear I made for a friend, and the challenge that led to this year’s hijincks.

DAY ONE
Alfeo, Elliott and I suited up in the parking garage of the downtown Atlanta Hilton on Saturday morning and headed upstairs to begin walking down to Woodruff Park. I was bitching everyone out, telling them to hurry up. That went over famously.

Exiting the elevator, I figured that the first 20 people we ran into would provide us with a good idea of how we’d be received elsewhere for the rest of the day. We were particularly worried that the “real” stormtroopers would take demonstrable umbrage at our cardboard costumes, which was never my intent.
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