Bats

It may come as no surprise to anyone, but I own a shirt with the Bat Logo on it. You know the logo I'm talking about, it's worn by a number of characters in the DC universe, including Batman.

Now, Batman is the most famous of the Batpeople, I accept that, but every time I wear the shirt someone feels compelled to call me Batman.

Yes, that's right: Batman.

I'd just like to point out something - not only does such a thing as Batgirl exist, but her "secret" identity is Barbara Gordon* - a redheaded librarian at the Gotham Library.

Now, a) I'm a girl - I may not be a terribly feminine one, but I still like to think the people I know have worked this out, b) I'm a librarian, c) I'm a redhead. Let's put all of those facts together and review the concept of the Bat Logo T-shirt.

Even if you don't know I'm a librarian, which you might not, surely the fact that I'm a woman would tip the scales in favour of Batgirl rather than Batman? You know, Batgirl? One of the most popular characters from the TV series and a character who has been in the comics since 1961?

I have two theories for why people would feel compelled to call me Batman whenever I wear the shirt. I don't like either of them, as they both cause me to lose respect for the people around me.

The first is that people are so blinded by the cut of the shirt that they cannot help but apply the incorrect gender to an otherwise ambiguous symbol. Yes, I tend to wear "classic" cut T-Shirts rather than fitted Ts. Once upon a time the classic cut shirts were considered to be unisex apparel and suitable for both sexes. These days it seems as though women are being excluded from that cut and are relegated to fitted Ts only. As per usual, I reject this reality and firmly embrace the concept that the T-Shirt is the ultimate example of egalitarian apparel.

The second theory is that people can't remember the existence of female superheros beyond Wonder Woman. For some reason, even though Supergirl and Batgirl have been around for decades (and Superwoman and Batwoman have also had recurring roles throughout the years), the average Joe on the street just can't accept the fact that they exist. Don't even try asking about the non-derivative heroes like Black Canary and Powergirl**.

Did you ever read the comics? Batgirl is there. Did you ever watch the TV series with Adam West? Batgirl is there. Did you ever watch that horrible, horrible movie starring George Clooney? Batgirl is there. She's all wrong, but she's there. And yet Batgirl doesn't seem to be sharing any real space with her male counterparts in the public consciousness. Sad, really.

* Yes, in the last 15 years the Batgirl identity has been shared by a number of "secret" identities. As far as I'm concerned she'll always be Barbara Gordon.

** You probably shouldn't try asking about Powergirl, it's just too confusing.

Speaking of Wyoming

It's a rectangle. Have you ever noticed that? Wyoming and Colorado are both perfectly symmetrical rectangles. They're the only American states with no obvious deviations in the lines of their boarders.

That must make branding based on the shape of the state rather pointless. Mind you, I'm not sure Kansas would bother, either, seeing as it only has a tiny squiggly bit. Texas has it easy.

Free Wyoming

Over the course of the last football (soccer) season, I've come to the conclusion that a large number of the people who attend live matches aren't actually interested in football at all - they're just there to hear the sound of their own voice.

They don't come to watch, they come to yell. Usually something that could be considered "witty", if not for the fact that it's completely stupid:

"They must be paying peanuts, ref, because they sent the monkey up here!"

Hunh? This is supposed to make you seem superior to the referee how, exactly? Whatever happened to the good old fashioned "Are you blind?" for ref slanging?

Then there are the yelling groups. Here in Townsville, we have the F-Troop. Supposedly dedicated Fury fans, they formed before anyone even knew who was in the team and came up with all sorts of things they could yell in order to support a team they had never seen play. That, to me, suggests they exist solely to yell. The football team is merely a convenient excuse.

This is further confirmed by paying the slightest bit of attention to the things they are yelling. I'd say maybe a third of their chants are actually intended to encourage the team. Another third is dedicated to insulting the other team, the individual players of that team, the supporters of that team, the ref - and possibly even the ref's mother, for all I know. The remainder (and possibly the largest share) is dedicated to praising the virtues of the F-Troop.

That's right, these people come to a football match and spend a large chunk of their time cheering themselves:

"We are the F-Troop!"
"We're F-Troop, We're F-Troop, We're F-Troop over here!"
"Green-White Army *grunt* *grunt*"

Not that it really matters - the F-Troop are so bad at gang vocals that it takes a very long time to figure out what they're actually saying. It took me three matches before I realised they were chanting "Green-White Army" and not "Free Wyoming".

Now, I knew they couldn't be shouting "Free Wyoming", because that would be the most bizarre political statement on the face of the earth - especially coming from a bunch of drunk football hooligans in North Queensland.

Still, even now, whenever they start that chant I have to resist the urge to call out: "Yes! Wyoming must be free!"

For the last game of the match I actually forked out money for a chair in the Eastern grandstand rather than sitting on the grass on the southern side like I normally do, and I was finally close enough to the F-Troop to work out that one of their chants is not entirely about themselves after all - they use it to declare their love... for the people sitting in the Eastern Grandstand.

"Oh, Eastern, we love you!"

Yeah, these guys are here for the game.

Free Wyoming.

Three things

Just finished Jacob's bit. Three things:

a) most stupid name ever
b) What the hell!?!
c) Okay, these guys are doing a lousy job of killing each other, but I'm ready to break some necks. I want to kick that Meyer woman in the shins until she cries.

The Novel Experiment Continues: Chapter 2

For those of you who care, Chapter Two of Aino can now be read in its rough form.

"How rough?" I hear you ask. Well, pretty rough. Practically zero editing, and I'm thinking of changing a character's name.

Why am I exposing you to such raw material of such poor standard? Well, duh. It's so you remind me to keep going with the story, remember?

Mind you, only one person seems to be doing this at present (thanks, Jack), so she'd better do it well.

Now, first of all, a word of warning. I got the idea for this story whilst spending the night on the grounds of a manor house in Estonia. Everyone who is sick of hearing the word "Estonia" come out of my mouth should probably steel themselves.

Any way: Aino, Chapter 2: Davis Tells His Story, and I Tell Mine

Hmmm.... okay.

We interrupt this angsty and slightly ludicrous teen love triangle to bring you The Tale of the Mutant Fetus of Doom...

On Further Consideration..

No, no. I was wrong. They're all jerks - and they're all idiots.

I don't think I like these people. And yet, I still want to know what happens to them. Hopefully, nothing good.