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Bah. I feel left out. Who's in The Club?

Or an ultra-rare subscriber only copy worth loads?

Should be "millionaire's missing wife"

Can't remember the terms, but grammar's rules dictate that the adjective (missing) should be as close as possible to the noun it describes (wife) to create a new noun (missing wife).

Following that rule, the strap line suggests the millionaire is missing because it is closer ("missing millionaire's wife" = the wife of a millionaire who is missing).

How can you not remember your first time?

224. Judge Death Lives: Impressionable mind ruined.

Not sure if this is the right place, but I just started a thread (Tour of Duty vs Origins) with quite a long post. Once my text exceeded the length of the original text box, it started jumping up and down every time I typed a character. I ended up using Outlook to type the message and then cut and paste it.

I accept it might be me.

If it helps, I didn't have any keys jammed and am using IE8 on XP SP2. (I know, Microsoft own me).

Why the flip would anyone come here and post if they didn't read it every week? I know there's a bit of contorvery on that topic elsewhere, but I neverthelss am quite serious? It's like going to a Dr Who forum and not watching the programme. You just wouldn't get as much out of it as the other people using the site.

I want more.

Dunno, but prog rhymes with rogue.

Dr X runs away: Wheeeeeeeee!

I appreciate we're only a few episodes into Tour of Duty, but it does strike me as (so far, maybe superficially) very like Origins: Dredd is out in the Cursed Earth doing his thang in both, and I'd be willing to bet that the Fargos trap up at some point. That made me think, why do I like Tour of Duty so much more than Origins?

And, for my tuppence worth, the answer is simple: because I don't know what's going to happen next. Let's face it, we did with Origins. We knew that we were seeing the origin of Dredd unfold. A lot of the tension was lost because it was a historic tale. Tour of Duty, though, is history in the making.

I'm not saying Origins was bad, mind. More of a fish supper epic: good at the time, but ultimately slightly bloating and not as pleasant as you imagined it would be. Tour of Duty is more of a steak pie: wholly satisfying and leaving you full up, but with enough room for the ice cream in the rest of the prog.

As soon as I've finished one episode of Tour of Duty I'm already looking forward to the next. I even read it extra slow, so's it lasts longer. It seems like ages (certainly, earlier than Origins – so that's a good few years ago) since there was a world-changing Dredd. I think we have it here. The first proper epic in years.  I'd argue that Tour of Duty is the tale Origins wanted to be. Of course, it has to be acknowledged that we wouldn't be having the current tale without Origins, that's for sure. I'm pretty sure I read somewhere that Wagner was seriously contemplating giving Dredd up because he thought he'd done all he could with it, and then he came up with a plot to give the strip a whole new lease of life. That, I guess, is what is happening now. So maybe the two should be conjoined into one story.

Anyway, the excitement is in not knowing what happens next. Too much of today's media, whether film or comic or book, is predictable. I can't remember the last time I read or saw something where I couldn't pretty much work out what the state of play would be at the end: whether they pretty girl shags the pretty boy, whether the bad guy is caught, whether the team is together or broken up. That was the case with Origins. The details might have been new, but you knew what it was going to be like at the end. Not with this Dredd, though.

Will he go back to the Meg? Will there be a Meg for him to go back to? What will happen in the Cursed Earth?

The joy of 2000ad, the joy of Dredd, is that I just don't know. This is brave stuff. You can't get this in many other places, never in US comics (even the independents are too careful to stick with their formula) and certainly not so consistently. I am really enjoying it. It's why I buy 2000ad. This mid 30s bloke feels like a little boy (in a good way) wondering what's going to happen to the hero of the tale. That's a Good Thing. So, thanks to Tharg and Wagner (not Macneil, though, 'cos he's joined the board and might read this and get a big head).

Extra oil all round!

Oooh, that's a hard one.

And now it's the version that went through a spell checker.

[FRAME 1]

Well, if anyone fancies a bash at something what I wrote, here's a one pager I did ages ago and didn't get round to offering to Futurequake. It's a little busy, as I have cut it from seven to six panels (the fourth panel was two before).


THE GROWTH

FRAME 1
Establishing shot of a street in a metropolis. The city has been ruined by nature's vengeance. Tower blocks and office buildings rise from a sea of lush vegetation, made up of thick vines and huge disgustingly organic flowers. There are signs that this was not a creeping reclamation, but rather a sudden attack; stems as thick as oil pipelines have grown through windows and cars, puncturing roofs and doors. Here and there, thinner vines have impaled those trying to flee; men, woman and animals have been skewered by green spikes. This is the Growth.

CAPTION (top left):
THE PLANT WAS GENETICALLY ENGINEERED TO MEET EVERY DIETARY REQUIREMENT AND HARDY ENOUGH TO THRIVE ANYWHERE USING THE WHATEVER NUTRIENTS IT COULD FIND.

CAPTION (bottom right):
TO A WORLD RAVAGED BY CLIMATE CHANGE, WITH DUSTY FARMS AND STARVING BILLIONS, IT FIRST SEEMED A MIRACLE.


FRAME 2: Focus on a squat building with a slightly curved roof, surrounded by the Growth. Once it was a cutting edge office, all black glass and marble; now it looks like a bunker. Tendrils and vines rise from the ground to scrabble at the entrances like fingers prying for a way in; the doorway, a previously sleek revolving entrance, is clogged with the Growth. It is also concentrated around the windows. Above the entrance is a sign. Although a few lazy vines cling to it, words are still visible: NUTRI-CORP INC. Underneath this is a slogan: FOOD FOR ALL, FOREVER. Two scientists are inside: BLEAKER and ANDREWS.

CAPTION:
ITS LATIN NAME WAS 82 LETTERS LONG. ITS BRAND NAME WAS NUTRI-CORN. BUT, EVENTUALLY, IT WAS JUST CALLED...THE GROWTH!

BLEAKER (off, from the bunker):
FOR GOD'S SAKE, IT'S ALMOST IN! HOW MUCH LONGER?

FRAME 3:
Change of scene. Int. a computer lab inside the Nutri-Corp office. Dominated by a huge – currently blank – video screen on one wall. Once, the room was a tidy laboratory but now it is in chaos. Clearly, the people who work here left in a hurry; desks and chairs have been abandoned, some have fallen over, and papers are scattered across the floor. Two men remain, both in lab coats. BLEAKER is a middle-aged man with a black beard and bald patch. ANDREWS is younger, maybe thirty, and with blonde hair. In the background, BLEAKER is leaning on a filing cabinet, which in turn has been pushed against a set of double doors. Tendrils of the Growth are whipping at him from the edge of one door, which is slightly open – they are like zombie arms reaching out for their next victim, or the tentacles of a giant squid in a Doug McLure movie. BLEAKER has turned to face ANDREWS, who is in the foreground and seated in front of a computer. ANDREWS points at screen.

ANDREWS:
GOT IT! THE DNA RECONGITION PROGRAM IS READY! I'M CALLING THE PRESIDENT!

SFX (cabinet on door):
BANG!


FRAME 4:
Roughly the same layout as the previous panel. In the foreground, ANDREWS is sitting at a workstation. He is looking up at the video screen on the wall. This has come to life and shows THE PRESIDENT in the Oval Office, looking calm and unruffled. At the door, a tendril of the Growth has reached around and stabbed through Bleaker's chest, impaling him like a spear. ANDREWS, who has turned from the video screen, is aghast.

ANDREWS:
WE'RE READY, SIR! THE SATELLITES ARE ARMED! ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS FIRE! THE BIO-WEAPON WILL TARGET ONLY THE GROWTH!

BLEAKER:
GUUNGH!

ANDREWS (linked):
NO! BLEAKER!


FRAME 5:
BLEAKER is on his knees, but is pushing himself to his feet with his hands. He looks like a sprinter about to start a race. Tendrils of the Growth have impaled his limbs, head and body. He looks, literally, like a string puppet. BLEAKER is grinning at ANDREWS.

ANDREWS:
SIR! GIVE THE ORDER! FIRE, FOR GOD'S SAKE!

BLEAKER:
HE CANNOT HELP YOU NOW, LITTLE MAN!


FRAME 6:
Cut to the Oval Office. Side view of a smiling PRESIDENT at his desk. He is not, however, sitting. Instead, the lower half of his body has been cocooned by the Growth so that he is half-man, half "pod person". Tendrils snake across the floor from broken windows and shattered doors. Many plug into the cocoon around him, but others plug into his sides, spine or stomach – in fact, into every part of the PRESIDENT apart from his previously seen face and arms.  One even grotesquely plugs directly into the back of his head. In front of him, a large video screen built into the desk-top shows a CU of the contorted final grimace of ANDREWS.

CAPTION (top left):
THE GROWTH WAS DESIGNED TO USE THE MOST PLENTIFUL SOURCE OF NUTRIENTS IT COULD FIND...

CAPTION (bottom right):
UNFORTUNATELY, THAT HAPPENED TO BE MANKIND!

ANDREWS (from monitor):
AARRGH!

Thanks for the thoughts. I'll send the next one off today. Suprosed Bolt-01 hasn't popped up to pimp Futurequake. I think I've got something in the next one?

I'm looking for a bit of advice.

I sent Tharg a script back at the start of April. Five months ago next week. I sent a request for an update after three months, and still have heard nowt. Both had an SAE and postage for a reply.

I know it is bad form to send more than one submission at a time, but how to you deal with the situation where nothing seems to be happening? How long do I wait before sending another script? I ask that as a general point for comment.

There are also a couple of other factors pertinent to little old me. First, I'm sitting on a Futureshock script that I'd like to submit that is reasonably topical and based on music downloads. I live in fear of a change to that industry that renders the script less relevant; I don't think anything is planned, but you never know. Second, the script I sent back in April was for a Tale from the Black Museum and, frankly, I know that it isn't going to be accepted. I know for sure because it was six pages long, when the recent page count is up to nine. Stupid old me. It may also be that Tharg isn't accepting such scripts from new writers (although I am pretty sure he's on record as saying that he will).

In my reminder I made the point about the page count and asked for confirmation that the script was rejected. I have no problem with it being kicked into touch (hey, it won't be my first rejection). I just want to move on and try again.

So, what do I do?

First impressions: looks awful.

Uncanny valley prevails, and I think this will age very quickly. Might be good film, mind.