I was driving down Ventura Blvd. The air was warm, but if I kept the windows open I could stay cool without using AC. Just another way to try to save on gas until I buy the upcoming Venture Vehicle (check flytheroad.com). My stereo was loud, but not blaring. I was singing along to Jason Mraz when a light stopped me for some pedestrians crossing the street. I abruptly stopped singing when I saw that the giant black dude coming from his gym caught me singing in my car alone. He stood in the intersection and said, "Oh, NO. Don't you stop for ANYONE. Let it out!" And he was right. I said, "You're right." Not only did it continue singing, but he joined me, and loud. It is moments like these that restore my faith in humanity. Thank you, intimidatingly huge black dude. Thank you for reminding me that the world is mine to enjoy, everyday. It is an attitude I took with me to Comicon.

Ah, Comicon. Worlds of wonder spinning in sympathetic orbits, crashing and colliding in an astral dance of astrological awesomeness. Is it the large contingent of Stormtroopers, the smattering of Sailor Moons, or the dominating population of Jokers that makes me so happy? It must be the excitement created by the longing anticipation. The weeks and months before that ever lengthening weekend serve to steep and simmer the juices of fans from all corners of fandom. The collective energies that swirl and boil around the knick-knacks and do-dads that fill the giant bags reminding us to collect the weekend in tiny bits that suit our individual likings (I picked up a Spidey Mexican Wrestling Mask). And all you folks who gathered for Dr.Horrible's Family's very first public appearance- you rock. Not even just a very tiny bit. But a lot. You rock more than a southern state porch chair.

I think it can be said that Dr Horrible was a tremendous success. More than just an incredible project to enjoy, but a more than important view of entertainment to come. This is the future, everybody. This is a window into how things will be when the control is finally wrested from the moneyed claws of big business and placed, nay, returned to the caring hands of the creators. Remember: It is not only the artists who suffer infuriating "What if they were cops?" notes, but you, the viewer as well. Would you be happy knowing that the story you are are watching will never be told as intended? Can you sit back and enjoy your popcorn while the marketing department shows you a pivotal moment of a surprise ending in a trailer, allowing you to extrapolate the ending of an anticipated movie before you've even bought your ticket? This Horrible endeavor could not only potentially serve as an entirely new business model, but it could open to everyone an entirely new version of entertainment. A new vision of entertainment. A purified, unfettered, unmolested story. Completely as intended by it's mothers and fathers. There are even rumblings that it could serve as a case study to be examined in the SAG contract negotiations, allowing actors and producers to accurately see the true power of entertainment via the interweb, and preventing a strike, allowing not only actors, but all industries connected to entertainment to continue to recover from the recent WGA strike. Don't you remember what is was like having no new episodes of ANYTHING? So, this having been said, why would someone rip it from the site and post it elsewhere? Before it was $4, it was free, so it's not that you couldn't afford it. It's culty, yet you obviously aren't a fan, stealing from your favorite folks in gratitude. Is it that you need the hits on your site for advertising? Are you doing it for money? Weak. Are you doing it to be e-popular? Is that working for you? I know who you are, brother. I know you are the same guy who selects an antique phone ring on your cell so everyone knows when you get a call. You are the guy who looks at that phone while it rings, disturbing everyone in the restaurant. You are the guy who answers it and loud talks while standing under the sign that asks you not to use your phone here. You parked your car in two spots in the crowded lot, and when you drove home you changed lanes without using your turn signal or shoulder checking because you were busy holding the phone to your ear. Even though I let you go in front of me, you didn't wave because the cost of the wave too high for you. But you need to get home to steal internet commerce with far reaching, unconsidered effects. I know you. We all know you. We see you everyday. Maybe you feel we all dislike you. You feel the outcast and want to punish everyone you can because what have we ever done for you? I imagine the ever circling cycle of disdain. You punish us for not liking you, and we punish you by not liking you. I have a solution. I have an idea to stop all those you encounter from silently cursing you, from praying against you, from wishing you ill will. Come here. Let me give you a hug. The healing starts here, brother. It won't get any better by screwing people you've never met by being an internet ass. It will get better when you drop those swinging fists and lift those arms to be embraced. Let me hug the pain away. I give you permission to turn off your ringer. I allow you to be considerate of others. I give to you the ability to be loved. Have a great day, and take down those pirated Dr.H's, no? Here comes the love.