I've been wanting to go to one of these for a very long time. Since I live in Connecticut, getting to New York is now problem for me. I could hop the Long Island Ferry or take the train. The problem is money. I don't have any money now, and since I don't have a job at current I can't predict how much I'll have come March. My status thus far is "maybe".

So, what's everybody been working on since the deadline? I found that I was in such a writing mood that I was excited to write more poetry. I'll post it in my userblog if there is interest.

At 11/5/09 09:20 PM, BrianEtrius wrote: I'm in support of this. Besides, with the holidays, I think a few of us would like some extra time because of IRL activities (GASP, REAL LIFE?).

I know not of this "real life" that you speak of, but I concur. If I may, I suggest we consolidate the December and January Contests.

The Open Door and The Visitor, By Noah "Redface" Rodriguez (Finale)

---------------

Later that night, fast asleep, I hear the most terrible noise, like the scream of a wild animal, and flesh being torn from bone. Quickly I got up, grabbed the gun that Lightstrom had handed me from the nightstand and went downstairs. In the foyer, I saw the most horrific sight I had ever seen: Lightstrom's body, limp, on the floor, and blood pooling about him. His ribcage had been torn from his body, and standing over him was the beast that had done it. I could not even begin to describe this thing, Constable, but its image still haunts me: it looked like one of the Komodo Dragons I have seen on my expeditions to the Orient, but it had no tail and a longer snout and it stood upright like a man. I gasped at the horror of what I saw. The beast, hearing me, turned at me and charged, letting out a beastly scream. I unload two shots into it, one it the shoulder and one in the eye. It managed to knock me over before jumping out a window and disappearing into the cold crisp night.

This is my story, Constable. It is at times fantastical and nonsensical because it is at times fantastic and nonsensical. But it happened, just as I write it. Please, Constable, find this creature. Exercise caution when approaching it. It took one life. it can take another.

Regards,
J. Horace Standish

The Open Door and The Visitor, By Noah "Redface" Rodriguez (Part 2)

--------------------

This was the mythic "Door". I was amazed, dazzled! But, deep inside, I was also very disturbed. I had but one searing question regarding this technological revelation: "Where did the apple go, Charles?" It was as if I had insulted the machine and Lightstrom's hard work. All the boyish enthusiasm and excitement he possessed moments prior were now gone, just as the ill-fated apple was. Charles sighed deeply and admitted that he did not know. Over tea, he explained to me the origins of his miraculous "Door". Lightstrom, an expert mechanic and Professor of Aviation Science at Oxford, Lightstrom had grown tired of building and teaching about the same steam engines for years. He had learned of, worked with and taught about vehicles for so long that they became something of a petty nuisance to him. He wondered of a reality where one could travel great distances with out the aide of our steamcarriages or dirigibles but simply as one would "travel from one room to the next simply by opening a door and walking in." Eventually, he began to draw up blueprints, consult with some of his colleagues, and, using his own expertise in various scientific disciplines, he began to the "Door" himself, and began testing the machine by sending various inanimate objects through it. He admitted that he was so excited in being successful in sending things out through the "Door" that retrieving them was strictly an afterthought. I'm not as scientifically gifted as Lightstrom was, so I didn't understand most of what Lightstrom told me about the machine's specifics or how it worked, sending particles out through space or what have you, but I was fascinated none the less. It seemed that Lightstrom was on the brink of a technological revolution. Eventually, the conversation moved onto to other topics and the "Door" was left forgotten.

The following two weeks passed without significant event. A week after seeing the machine, I spoke with Lightstrom over the phone and brought up the subject of the "Door". Lightstrom mentioned that he was still "tinkering with it" and quickly moved on. The next week, when I visited his manor again, he did not take me into the cellar to see the "Door", and I did not ask him to, but he did mention in passing that he was finally working on "retrieving the items he had sent through the "Door". Had I known then the horrors such an endeavour would wreak, I would have strongly urged him against it.

Another pair of weeks passed without incident, and I had not spoken with Lightstrom outside of our usual phone correspondence. It was not until towards the end of October, on or near All Hallow's Eve (I forgot, admittedly) that I received an urgent letter from Lightstrom requesting that I stay with him in his manor for a few weeks. At first, I felt it odd that he would have written me instead of phoning. It occurred to me that Lightstrom's only phone remained in his work shoppe in the center but I thought nothing of it. I had been anxious to find an excuse to visit the countryside during harvest time, and was simply glad that I had found it. I packed a few of my things and made my way to Lightstrom's manor.

When Lightstrom greeted me at the door of his estate, his manner was inexplicably queer. His jovial attitude very clearly masked something dire about his mood, as if he had witnessed something horrific and were desperate to conceal it. I asked him what was troubling him and Charles, calm but clearly panicked, said, "Nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all, dear boy. Nothing. Nothing at all." With that, he hurried me to my quarters to prepare for a dinner party at his manor that a few of his colleagues and their wives would be attending. As he pushed me up the stairs, I could have swore that I had heard a series of banging noises emanating from the kitchen, but I said nothing. Later, at the dinner party, the other guests complained also of the banging but Lightstrom made nothing of it, almost refusing to answer their inquiries as to the source.

The next morning, after I had woken and dressed, I was unable to find Charles anywhere so I made my way to the kitchen to fix my own breakfast. I had missed it upon first entering the kitchen but as I was searching for the tea I noticed something off about the door to Lightstorm's work shoppe in the cellar. The door, having never had a locking mechanism, was now heavily bolted and barricaded. It was even padlocked! Curious, I began to unbolt the door when I heard a course, angry voice call my name. It was Lightstrom, who ushered me away from the door and explained simply that the work shoppe was "Now off-limits to guests". Never before in the many, many years that I knew Lightstrom had he ever been unwilling to show someone an invention he was working on, even if for the moment it only existed on paper. Charles Lightstrom delighted in sharing the machinations of his fertile mind with others, which is why it was so surprising that he would do something as seemingly trivial as lock his work shoppe. I asked him why he would do such a thing, but he would not answer. It was only days later, about one week into my stay in the Lightstrom manor that I knew why Charles barred the door so heavily. As I was walking through the manor one afternoon I noticed all of Lightstrom's servants; his maids, his butlers, cooks, even the Gardner; standing in the kitchen I pushed through the throng of people and to see what precisely they were all staring at. Lightstrom, at the head of the group looked as though his worst nightmare had been realized. There was the cellar door, forced open and hanging gingerly on its hinges. It was almost as if someone, from the other side had slammed themselves into the door violently to force it open in such a way. Lightstrom was keeping something locked in the cellar, and now it was loose in his manor.

After that, Lightstrom's entire staff angrily tendered their resignation. As much as he begged, they refused to stay, not matter how much he offered to raise their pay. They did not want to be in a house where such awful secrets were being kept and frankly, Constable, I could not blame them. After the last servant left, I sat Lightstrom down and had him tell me everything. Lightstrom told me everything, but mostly what I could understand was that while experimenting with going from point A to point B and back to point A again, something unexpected happened. "I left the 'Door' open", Lightstrom said. I had no idea what he meant by that, but apparently, someone, something had found a way to walk through the "Door" into Lightstrom's work shoppe. "I have opened the "Door"! Thrown it wide open!" explained Lightstrom, his voice trembling, "I've opened it to a new world! A whole menagerie of worlds! Worlds that only existed in nightmares! And something from one of those nightmare worlds stepped through the 'Door'!" At that point, I was convinced that Lightstrom was speaking nothing but madness, and had announced that like the servants before me, I would not stay in a house that was clearly unsafe. However, unlike the servants, I could not resist Lightstrom's pleading. Here was a man who had been a great friend and ally to me, wrapped around my feet and crying like a child. I acquiesced. and told him I would stay for one more night. Lightstrom was thrilled, and I announced that I would go to my room to sleep, and in the morning I would pack my things and leave. Before I went upstairs, Lightstrom handed me something, a handgun, and advised me to lock the bedroom door. Hesitantly, I took the gun, went to my quarters, and locked my door. That was the last time I saw Lightstrom alive.

The Open Door and The Visitor, By Noah "Redface" Rodriguez (Part 1)

--------------------

To Constable Redding, or whom it may concern,

This is my account of the horrible events that began with a curious machine and closed with the egregious murder of my dear friend, Dr. Charles Lightstrom. I must warn adamantly, Constable, that the details contained within this letter seem fantastic and at times nonsensical, and that is because the final days of Dr. Lightstrom are themselves fantastic and at times nonsensical. It is not my intention to mislead Scotland Yard in its investigation of this most unforgivable crime, but since I fear that while the circumstances of this case are most unconventional, your men will most assuredly use strictly conventional means to piece this puzzle together. Please understand that this crime is unlike any thing you've ever known, Constable, and Lightstrom's killer is a far more ferocious and evil brute than even old Jack the Ripper himself. But if I may, Constable, I'd like to start at the very beginning.

It was September 30th, in the year of our lord 1895. I had departed from my quaint cottage in Leeds and boarded the airtaxi to visit my dear friend Dr. Charles Lightstrom in his Manor in Canterbury. We were to engage in our weekly ritual of tea and conversation, but my presence this week was urgently requested as Charles had a new invention that he was desperate to show me. Dr. Lightstrom was quite the inventor, and this invention, he assured me, would revolutionize daily living as we new it. As I disembarked the airtaxi and hailed a steamcarriage to take me to the Lightstrom Manor, my fancy was thoroughly tickled as to what this fabulous new invention might be. Little did I know that Lightstrom's final gift to humanity would be a pox on him, and the horrors it would wrought in the coming weeks would be his undoing.

When I reached the front door of his spacious manor I found that Charles had been waiting for me. The door had swung open and Lightstrom, ever the charismatic and charming host, welcomed me warmly and ushered me in. "Horace, my dear friend! How have you been?" he asked me as we walked through the corridors of his home. "I've been well, Charles. Now how about this new doo-dad you've been on about?" I asked, eager to learn more. Charles merely chuckled and assured that all would be revealed in due time. We walked through the drawing room, through the parlor and into the kitchen to where the door to the cellar was. It was there where Lightstrom housed his work shoppe, and his mysterious new invention, a device he only referred to simply as "the Door". We descended into the murky blackness of the work shoppe, which was little more than a collection of benches littered with disassembled gizmos, Tesla coils and various buttons, knobs, nuts and gears that Charles had yet to find need or purpose for, and in the far corner of the room was Lightstrom's desk, which looked as if it were nearly about to buckle under the weight of all the notes, files and drawings. With the flip of a switch, the black room was now bathed in a single ray of dirty yellow light. It was then that I had noticed that the work shoppe had been left in a different order than when I had last seen it, as everything had been pushed towards the walls to make way for a massive fixture draped in a white cloth in the center of the room. This contraption, I assumed, was the much talked-about "Door", but when Lightstrom pulled away the cloth for his grand unveiling, it was obvious to me, as it would have been obvious to you, Constable, or to anyone else who had looked upon it that it was no ordinary "Door".

For one thing, the thing looked nothing like the sort of door you or I would have been accustomed to, Constable. It resembled more of a tall glass box, but perhaps a box only tall or wide enough that a single, average-sized man could fit into. I wasn't truly sure what I was looking at. The device was deceptive in its appearance, but I knew then when I first laid eyes on it that it was capable of so much more than what one could assume it could be capable of. Lightstrom had sensed this confusion in me, and was all too eager to demonstrate the contraption's true potential. Wordlessly, he stole away to his desk and pulled from the drawer a rotting apple on a small platter. Opening the hatch on the "Door", he placed the apple on the platter inside and sealed the hatch once again. He then grabbed from a nearby bench two pairs of goggles and of earplugs, and handed one set of each to me. I needed no instruction with what to do with them. On a nearby console, Lightstrom began pushing an assortment of buttons, turning an assortment of knobs and pulling an assortment of levers. He grinned madly as if he were a boy having a jaunt at the local fair, and in his eyes danced the fire of a snake-oil salesmen, a man who believed that what he possessed was an invaluable, rare treasure.

With each button press and knob turn, the machine began to churn more and more steadily into life. First, it groaned softly, and then after not much longer if began to roar loudly. Its roar became almost deafening, until I was certain that the insufferable noise was beginning to echo not only through the entire manor but also through the entire English countryside. Within the machine itself, a fantastic white light had appeared and now seemed to be trying desperately to escape the confines of the "Door". As the sound the machine had grown from loud to deafening, the light it produced went from "dazzling" to "blinding". I could only see the apple Lightstrom had placed inside in silhouette until I could not see it at all. The machine had one final trick up its sleeve: an outward blast of light and sound before it finally rumbled into hibernation and for the first time in what was several moments but what seemed like several days what quiet and dim. Lightstrom, still unable to contain his enthusiasm was now at his breaking point. He let out a stream of joyous, victorious laughter and proclaimed, "Another success!" The apple Charles had placed inside the "Door" had disappeared completely, as had the platter it had perched upon. They had, as Lightstrom might have described it; "stepped through the Door".

OMG FREE BUFFALO WILD WINGS I FUCKING LOVE THAT PLACE!!!

When did you first learn about Newgrounds?

My cousin showed me Divine Intervention Part 1 and I fell in love with it, and my interest in the site just sort of blossomed from there.

Divine Intervention pt. 1, by Totaljerkface Type: Game Rating: Ages 17+

: What do you most enjoy about the site?

The games are pretty fun, and it's cool how Newgrounds does so much to help boost the recognition of its contributors such as Edmund McMillen and The-Swain.

Given one day at the reins of the site, what would you change, what would you fix?

I don't spend as much time on here as I used to so I don't really know what needs fixing. I would try and gauge opinion from the other users on what needs improvements or tweaks, taking special care to ignore morons and advice that is exceptionally retarded.

Is there anything you miss, that you'd like to see back? (I.E. Old Blam/Save Animations)

No. Everything on Newgrounds has been changed or improved for the better, and the only reason people complain about the old ways is because they are socially inept man-children who fear the unknown and can't accept that a normal, funtioning society goes through personal change. I would like to see the return of Bitesize soon. It's a good idea to give it a break so it doesn't wear out its welcome, but I think it's time for a comeback.

Hello all, I think I would like to post the first two paragraphs of my story, just to gauge opinions on how it's shaping up. Please let me know what you all think.

TAKEN FROM THE DESK OF J. HORACE STANDISH:

To Constable Redding, or whom it may concern,

This is my account of the horrible events that began with a curious machine and closed with the egregious murder of my dear friend, Dr. Charles Lightstrom. I must warn adamantly, Constable, that the details contained within this letter seem fantastic and at times nonsensical, and that is because the final days of Dr. Lightstrom are themselves fantastic and at times nonsensical. It is not my intention to mislead Scotland Yard in its investigation of this most unforgivable crime, but since I fear that while the circumstances of this case are most unconventional, your men will most assuredly use strictly conventional means to piece this puzzle together. Please understand that this crime is unlike any thing you've ever known, Constable, and Lightstrom's killer is a far more ferocious and evil brute than old Jack the Ripper himself. But if I may, Constable, I'd like to start at the very beginning.

It was September 30th, in the year of our lord 1895. I had departed from my quaint cottage in Leeds and boarded the zeppelin to visit my dear friend Dr. Charles Lightstrom in his Manor in London. We were to engage in our weekly ritual of tea and conversation, but my presence this week was urgently requested as Charles had a new invention that he was desperate to show me. Dr. Lightstrom was quite the inventor, and this invention, he assured me, would revolutionize daily living as we new it. As I boarded the steamcart en route to the Lightstrom Manor, my fancy was thoroughly tickled as to what this fabulous new invention might be. Little did I know that Lightstrom's final gift to humanity would be a pox on him, and the horrors it would wrought in the coming weeks would be his undoing.

At 10/7/09 02:44 AM, jarrydn wrote: I want you to post the vocal track by itself.

Seconded. I think you do show great promise.

You ever have those moments of intense doubt when writing? When you think to yourself, "This is stupid, no one will like this" or "I'm sure someone has done this before, but better."

I have those moments all the time. Like, right now, while I'm working on my entry.

Quick question that is slightly related to my entry, which is in progress: H.P. Lovecraft is steampunk, right? Technically, at least?

Remember, kids! When posting in a thread about someone's passing, a simple "That sucks, R.I.P." or "I didn't know the person/their work, but my condolences to the family" will NEVER suffice! Always remember to be a colossal prick and unsympathetic asshole by asking "who?" a lot and taking easy pot-shots at the deceased! BECAUSE THAT SHIT'S ALWAYS FUNNY LMAO!

At 10/7/09 02:41 AM, Redface wrote:

Wow.

Here's a version that doesn't suck so bad. Go easy on us!

Hey. How's it going?

So anyway, I have some cool news: I've teamed up with a friend of mine, Brian O'Connell, to create a brand new webcomic! Yay! I've included one of our first comics below for your viewing pleasure. It's about Star Trek.

I can hear you mouth-breathers gasping, "This belongs on your blog LOL". First of all, You need to SHUT THE FUCK UP while I'm speaking. Seriously, that's just rude. Secondly, There's a reason I'm posting this here, of all places. As with any self-respecting webcomic, our baby needs a its own website where it can have its own identity. I haven't the foggiest notion of how to start my own website, and I figured that since the BBS is a place where one can (very, very rarely) get good advice, I'd ask you great folks what you know about starting a website. Well, how about it, fellas?

At 9/20/09 01:25 AM, Jonny879 wrote: ahem, too long,didn't read

First!

I have been called many things in my lifetime, many of those things horrible and unpleasant and nearly all of those horrible and unpleasant things were attributed to my weight. There have been positive and negative outcomes to all those years of brutal teasing. Today, I still wrestle with a lot of the self-hatred and unhappiness I had in grade school. That is a negative. In recent years, after much reflection, I have come to realize that my lifestyle choice is an unhealthy one, and that by making a change and taking initiative to lose weight, I can be rewarded with not only an improved body image, but increased stamina and physical prowess. This is a positive. Through all the years of pain and heart-ache I endured, I have lost a great amount of control over how I exert my emotions. Is this a negative? Quite the contrary.

I'm sure you've all heard the idiom "I love you like a fat kid loves cake." I've heard it throughout my entire school career, from kindergarten all the way to the present day in college. When I was younger, it was hurtful because I was insecure about who I was. Once I got older, and wiser and grew more confident in my skin, the joke would offend me on a different level. I'd hear someone spout that idiotic turn of phrase and think, "Is that all I am to people? A caricature? Can no one see past my weight to the person I really am? Am I only a fat blob with a laughably large appetite to them?" In school, the children would taunt me with various foodstuffs (i.e."Hey fatass, want some cake?" or "Hey, I bet if I yell 'cheeseburger!', he'll turn around!"). I guess what really hurt wasn't their cruelty, but that I was little more than a pass-time to them. Not a person with thoughts and feelings, but a plaything to amuse themselves with.

The teasing subsided greatly in High School, where most of my classmates had mellowed considerably. However, my emotional scars were still fresh. By that time, I had learned to wear my heart on my sleeve; If something bothered me, I refused to be silent about it. If someone did something to upset me, they would hear about it, loudly. But with the same intensity I had used to convey irritation or anger I also learned to express through joy and passion. In High School, my life long love had grown as strong as ever, and I discovered a love of comic books, music and pop culture. Academically, my ability to convey raw emotion translated well into an aptitude for Drama and Theatre, which in turn gave me my love of entertaining that I have with me today.

The person I am today would not exist without the teasing I endure, and I would not have endured my teasing were it not for my girth. What is the point, of all this, you may ask? The next time you see a large person, a "fat" person, you may be inclined to pass judgment on him. Don't! His stomach is filled with more than just hamburgers, it is filled with passion! Honestly, all of the fat people I have met are some of the most well-adjusted, happiest people I've known; Their appetite is not for food but for life! Which is much more than I can say for any thin people dealing with low self-esteem and undeserved body issues.

Love your brother or sister, even if he's still carrying that spare tire around!

Happy Birthday, Dude man guy!

At 9/6/09 11:42 PM, Canas wrote: What kind of queer listens to girls singing

Certainly not the kind of queer that still thinks Gorillaz are the edgiest, most original band ever, Canas. Certainly not.

At 9/6/09 10:50 PM, JollySpace wrote: Seriously.. It was much better than the current one. You had to vote on different things such as graphics, sound, etc.

Why was it removed anyways?

The old review system pales in comparison to the new one because now, one can rate a work based on the whole of its parts rather than giving it separate scores for its features.

Honestly, I don't understand this romanticism for the old, antiquated way Newgrounds functioned. They were jettisoned for a reason, stop being a bunch of whiny morons.

Me and a bunch of friends were sitting around one day, and I told them the interesting factoid I had heard that Platypi
were poisonous. They were impressed but wanted to verify, so one of my friends decided to ask KGB for the answer. In the time it took for him to get a response, my other friend simply ran a google search on his phone and found the answer we were looking for. The KGB text ended up costing my friend about $5.

Fuck KGB.

At 9/6/09 10:39 PM, CryogenChaos wrote: Have I ever heard of Neko Case? No, but I'm certainly willing to listen. What kind of music does she do, and what songs in particular would you recommend?

Her music is a blend of Alternative, Folk, and Country styles. From the album I would recommend "Magpie To The Morning", "This Tornado Loves You", "Polar Nettles", and "People Gotta Lot of Nerve".

Earnest question. I asked, and you will answer.

My tolerance for people who continue to balk at the perceived lack of "good music" in the mainstream media is at a staggering low. Truth be told, Quality and Wide Recognition are rarely synonymous with each other. Neko Case is probably one of the best Singer-songwriters of this decade. Her style suggests a blend between Patsy Cline, Sarah Mclachlan and Joan Jett. Her music is brilliantly subdued, yet power, her voice angelic and fantastic. It would be a crime not to procure her album "Middle Cyclone" which is easily among the best released this year.

Now you have no excuse to ignorance. You may now listen, and fall in love.

Are The Borg evil? We believe them to be, but perhaps in their minds they believe that to be organic is an undesirable condition and that through assimilation they are providing a service to the universe.

This is why there is no true evil; Concepts such as "evil" are relative, and there can be no universally agreed-upon paragon of evil or "pure evil".

At 8/23/09 03:12 AM, Redface wrote: So kindly, sir; go fuck yourself with a shark of broken glass.

As a side note, I ran a Google Image Search on "shark of broken glass" and came back disappointed.

At 8/23/09 03:09 AM, GATOONA wrote:

At 8/23/09 03:05 AM, Redface wrote:

At 8/23/09 02:33 AM, NeverAgain92 wrote: Honestly, people in Asia need to have a bit of a bigger diversity in their names.

The guy they're talking about in that article is South Korean. Big, big, HUGE difference.

face palm NO REALLY!!!!

Don't get snide with me. Subby's point is "LOL North Korea is saying good bye to a leader named Kim BUT IT'S NOT KIM JONG-IL IT'S SOME OTHER DUDE NAMED KIM LOL!" but what he's missing is that the article he is referencing is talking about a South Korean leader, not a North Korean one.

So kindly, sir; go fuck yourself with a shark of broken glass.

At 8/23/09 02:33 AM, NeverAgain92 wrote: Honestly, people in Asia need to have a bit of a bigger diversity in their names.

The guy they're talking about in that article is South Korean. Big, big, HUGE difference.

At 4/28/09 07:48 PM, EJR wrote: Maybe they'll mention NG some day on Adult Swim. Oh wait, no they won't. They're just looking for more publicity by bringing their trash onto NewGrounds and stealing the glory of regular programmers and animators with experts on those games.

Hee hee. Hoo hoo. Ha ha. Ha.

This is a screenshot I nabbed off the adultswim.com home page. I was going to make a new thread about it before I did some reflecting and realized that this relationship wasn't new. The link is external (i.e. when you click on it, it goes to Newgrounds.)

At 8/21/09 06:53 AM, Fim wrote: Are you looking for something to just play records or something to mix/ DJ with??

I personally just want something to play records, but maybe if I amass a good enough collection I may want to get into mixing and DJing.

I figured since Vinyl records seem to be making a comeback, I wanted to get into vinyl collecting. First things first, I need to find a turntable. I found this really neat entertainment center at Target a while ago. Not only does it play records, but it also plays CDs and has an AM/FM radio. It's also cheaper than some of the Sony USB turntables that I found which where well over $100. What do you guys think? What are some other good record players I should look into?

Also, in regards to buying LPs, what are some good online stores that have recent stuff? Some of the pawn shops and Goodwill stores in my area have great oldie records (Purple Rain! Steely Dan! Jefferson Airplane! Score!) but I'm looking for LPs from the bands I listen to like Mastodon, The Dead Weather, Queens of the Stone Age, and so one. I know Shockhound.com and Relapse Records have Vinyl, but who else?

At 8/21/09 05:44 AM, ThePortalGuru wrote: Dear lord, how could I forgot about "Batman: the Brave and the Bold"? I kinda like the new one, but I preferred the old one because of the darker tone it took.

I love Batman: The Animated Series and it's dark tone, but what I love about The Brave and The Bold is how it's totally going in the opposite direction. It's trying less to be like Batman: The Animated Series and more like the 1960's live-action Batman T.V. show.

What I really love about The Brave and The Bold is how it's basically a giant love letter to 1950's Silver Age comics, when Sci-fi and Crime Fiction comics were in their prime. I also love all the appearences from obscure characters from this era, like Adam Strange, Blue Beetle, and Elongated Man.

And all though there don't seem to be anymore Superhero cartoons on T.V, it should be mentioned that the Straight-to-DVD animated movies DC has been putting out, such as Batman: Gotham Knight, Justice League: The New Frontier, and Green Lantern: First Flight have been nothing short of fantastic.