Grammar Is My Ward, Here In This Wilderness

I've been working on a grammar gimmick for quite some time. My intention was always to make the best possible use of my sobriquet with some kind of grammar feature, and originally I wanted to do a daily one-panel cartoon of my beleaguered, world-weary, furious grammar persona, ashtray overflowing at his side, half-empty bottle of bourbon at arm's length, screenshot of that day's terrible grammar atrocity floating in the white space above him. Since I'd probably only need to draw a handful of expressions for his/my reaction to incomprehensible YouTube mutants--exhausted, enraged, even more enraged, disbelieving, perhaps unconscious--this always seemed like something I could actually manage.

True to form, I didn't manage it, and instead I've been working on the accompanying screed about the use of language. This is taking quite a long time, because I periodically quit doing that and work on my screed about film instead. I have so much complaining to do that my complaints keep interrupting one another.

I have, however, found time for three things:

1.) Working on a wine label for a fictitious wine company that, if I make it well enough, will be used on as many as possibly two actual wine bottles by a person who makes actual wine. (Tentative Pitch #1 of 3)


2.) Starting to play this beautiful game:



3.) Abandoning it within a day for this:


...And then playing Dwarf Fortress long enough that when I finally went to sleep, my dreams were about ASCII symbols and blinking letters milling about as I frantically shouted something about rations over and over. They did not listen.