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I found this interesting review on Amazon.com:

162 of 175 people found the following review helpful:
2.5 out of 5 stars I AM NOT A MONSTER!!! January 30, 2008
By Gonzo the Great "Creative Consultant" (Reno, Nevada) See all my reviews

First let me say that I have great respect for Ed Emberley... but as a weirdo, I felt that it is my duty to say something. People have been making this mistake for far too long... so listen up: Weirdos are not Monsters!!!!



Just look at Emberley's list of so-called "weirdos": Vampire, Goblin, Cat, Monster, Witch, Devil, etc. As you can see, these are monsters, not weirdos. (Except for the cat... because cats are most definitely weird).

Now I'm not saying that weirdos can't be monstrous, because they can. And I'm definitely not saying monsters can't be weird cause there are some doozies out there (take this guy for example).

When it comes down to it, I'm not even sure exactly what weirdos are... but that's beside the point! My point is that weirdos are not necessarily monsters! So, basically, if Emberley changed the name of his book to Ed Emberley's Little Drawing Book of Monsters (Who Also Happen to be Weirdos), then I'd have no problem with it. In fact, I'm tempted to buy it anyways because I can get a used one for only 99 cents... and offensive or not, that's a bargain!!!

Well now that 2008 is well underway its time to get back to some serious procrastination. Below are some posts to help you succeed.

2008 predictions from the prescient John Battelle.

The future of e-textbooks? (with some comments from our own Evan Schnittman)

Ten wishes for LA in 2008. (more…)

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Author/Illustrator: Loreen Leedy

An alien comes back from an anthropological research trip to report its findings to an audience of alien colleagues. The presentation takes place in Auditorium B5, otherwise known as Mystery Science Theater 3000. Unfortunately, the report "How Humans Make Friends" hardly qualifies as academically rigorous, as it is based mostly on anecdotal evidence. Nowhere in the study does the alien researcher mention some basic attributes of solid research such as valid sample sizes or accounting for construct irrelevant variance, and there isn't even the slightest hint of any attempt to gather longitudinal data.

Nevertheless, the report does shed some light on the bizarre behavioral patterns of human beings. And one can hardly blame the alien for its low academic standards. It was only visiting our planet for a short while. Even humans who study humans for their entire lives are unable to come up with much in the way of groundbreaking revelations.

Just yesterday, newspapers all over the country were reporting on two University of Texas professors who released a report detailing the motivations behind sexual activity.

From the Washington Post: "College-aged men and women agree on their top reasons for having sex: they were attracted to the person, they wanted to experience physical pleasure and "it feels good," according to a peer-reviewed study in the August edition of Archives of Sexual Behavior."

HOLY CRAP! STOP THE PRESSES!!!

(Disclaimer: The Archives of Sexual Behavior is housed in the Library of Shit We Already Knew.)












So college kids are having sex because "it feels good." Thank you Academia for clearing that up for us. Having blown the lid off of this whopper, Dr. David Buss and Dr. Cindy Meston will next unravel more of mankind's most persistent mysteries with three papers to be released in the upcoming months:

-People Eat Chocolate Because It Tastes Good: A Scientific Examination of the Yumminess Factor

-Hands: Good For Holding Things

-Puppies Are Cute: A Control Group Study Outside of Starbucks

Inter-rater Reliability Note: While Dr. Meston looks relatively credible (with a kinda scary, kinda intriguing dominatrix vibe), take a look at Dr. David Buss:

Now, he doesn't look like the kind of guy who would design a research project as an excuse to talk to nubile undergraduates and ask them detailed questions about their sex lives, does he?

Hey baby, why don't we go back to my place and finish this survey over a glass of chardonnay and some Baudelaire?

I'm not trying to start any rumors. I'm just saying... be wary of tainted data.

Author: John Light
Illustrator: Lisa Evans

If Aldous Huxley and Edgar Allen Poe teamed up to create a children's book, this would be it. The world of The Flower is a hauntingly dismal place where the city is all shades of grey and people live in tiny boxes. A world where the great vastness of human potential is confined by the cruel limitations of their post-industrial nightmare.

The human spirit was not meant to live in a colorless world, wading through smog, scurrying across concrete, afraid to make eye contact on the subway. In this book, city living is cold and soulless... like a cadaver--still vaguely human, but for the distinct smell of fromaldyhyde.

Not to be melodramatic or anything.

Anyways, the hero in the book works in a library (obviously, since the library is a breeding ground for heroism), and one day discovers a book with a beautiful picture of something he had never seen or heard of before... a flower. The color from the picture is mesmerizing and soon our hero finds himself following a trail that leads him towards a reconnection with nature and a rediscovery of the beauty within.

The book reminds us of the importance of retaining some connection with the natural world, even when confined to the concrete jungles of urban living. I never quite understood this, probably because I've managed to kill every plant I'd owned. (A cactus even died under my care and those are supposed to be indestructible!)

But my girlfriend agrees with Light and Evans, and always insisted that having plants around the apartment was key to maintaining our sanity. And right now, as I look around the room, and see the few small potted plants bravely adding life our box of an apartment, I have to admit they've got a point. (Obviously, I'm not the one responsible for watering them or they would be dried-out husks by now.)

Which is why it's a good thing IKEA sells cheap plants. Truly, all your home furnishing needs in one conveniently surreal place! Who needs Mother Nature when you have the welcoming bosom of Swedish mass-production to make you feel at home?

Author: Anna Rozen
Illustrator: Francois Avril

A young entrepreneur (who looks like the illegitimate son of the Monopoly guy and Mr. Peanut), opens up a business selling noises... but you could have figured that much out without even opening the book. The story gets much more complicated once you actually dive in. The merchant's ingenious idea takes the world by storm and soon the small shop becomes a booming multinational business.

Once people realize how lucrative the sound industry is, everyone is quick to jump on the bandwagon. Eventually all noises are for sale and no sounds are free any more. If you walk down the street past a construction site, you have to drop $3.95 for the pleasure of listening to the robust staccato of the jackhammer. The sound of someone yapping on their cellphone? 99 cents. The Sound of Music? Priceless.

To avoid unexpected roaming fees, people start walking around with earplugs... which works until an insidious little company out of Hoboken patents the Sound of Silence. That will now cost you 10 cents a minute.

Meanwhile, the merchant grows more and more powerful by the second. As wealthy as he is, ultimately he cannot resist the siren song of the most lucrative industry of all. He eventually signs a contract with the Pentagon and joins the military-industrial complex.

The U.S. government commissions the merchant to develop a frightening new weapon. This new technology utilizes the current medical technique for getting rid of kidney stones--using intense pulses of sonic waves to pulverize the painful little suckers (a procedure called Extracorporeal Shockwave Lithotripsy, which already sounds like a videogame weapon). Taking this to scale, the merchant develops an ultra-powerful sonic ray that (using a GPS satellite system) can obliterate your internal organs from space.

This starts an international arms race and soon the entire world is thrust into a new Cold War. (Canada finally becomes a major international player due to their possession of the ultimate in sonic terror: Celine Dion.) Inevitably, terrorists invade and take over the Pentagon, threatening to level New York City unless their demands are met. What they didn't count on is that one of the old bald security guards is loose in the building. And he is none other than: John McClane.

Thus begins the final installment of the Bruce Willis action series: DIE HARD DYNASTY.

Author/Illustrator: Christoph Niemann

This story starts out with a happy little cloud with dreams of being a police officer. With the help of his friend the police helicopter (as they say, it's not what you know, it's who you know), the cloud secures a position with the police force. The cloud's dream has come true! Oh happy day!

Unfortunately, while a dream deferred may shrivel up like a raisin in the sun, a dream realized often deflates and withers away like a balloon in an outhouse. In a series of regrettable events, the cloud realizes that he is not suited for police work and eventually has to leave the force.

His dreams shattered, he roams the skies, sobbing uncontrollably... when he happens to pass over a burning house. As luck would have it, his tears put out the fire. Huzzah! The story ends with the cloud finding his true calling. He joins the fire department and lives happily ever after.

Or does he?

Yes, he is the new hotshot in the fire department... but at what cost? The problem is that his greatest assets are his tears. His level of productivity is directly proportional to his misery. In order to remain useful to the fire department, he must sacrifice his happiness and live in a perpetual state of sadness. Whenever a call comes into the department, the other firefighters tell him sad stories about condensation, make fun of his weight (calling him cruel names like Tubby Cumulus)... anything to produce the tearful precipitation that they need to put out the fire.

This type of existence is borderline unbearable and the Cloud finds himself in the unenviable position of having to choose between:

a) living a useful life as a productive member of society but being stuck in a viscious cycle of unending sadness, or

b) floating through life without a care in the world, but being practically worthless to society.

This is a difficult decision, but one that many people face (most painfully on Monday mornings). Do we chose to continue the office job that pays the bills even though work life seems highly detrimental to our mental well-being? Or do we say, "Screw the office!" tear down the cubicle walls, and take to the open air--free (and poor) as a bird?

Being a dutiful employee, the Cloud will probably decide to stick with the job as long as he can... that is until the psychological distress overwhelms him and he goes on a rampage, flinging lightning bolts and hail all over an unsuspecting city. His friend the police helicopter tries his best to calm him down, but to no avail. All of his old colleagues at the police force do their best to catch the rampaging storm cloud, but before they can reign him in he just... evaporates into thin air.

Just like that, he is gone and the city is safe again... but for how long? It is only a matter of time until the disgruntled cloud returns and pelts us with the salty tears of his rage, reminding us that a good-paying job is not worth the price of your soul.