E-mails only!

Ever since I first posted information on the Contrauniversal Ray, I've been getting crazy amounts of e-mail asking about specs, capabilities, charge times, whatever whatever from my readers. One in particular caught my eye, because it offered me a chance to share with you a certain connection into which we were not previously entered. I'll c/p.

To: Dr. Horrible
From: Louis Silvestro
Subject: Sample of your notes?
Date: March 1 2010

Dr. Horrible,

I'm currently taking a physics class (yes, I'm 33 and still in college) that deals with probable physics in the sci-fi universe. Since you (like a few of your predecessors) have developed weaponry that seems far beyond the technology of most institutions today, I was wondering if I could get a sample of your CR notes for educational purposes. (It doesn't have to be complete, just legible.) Thanks in advance!

Louis Silvestro
University of Nevada
Physics Dept.

You know what? I'm totally cool with that. Just like I'm cool with you being thirty-three and in college. (Although I kinda have to suggest maybe teaching yourself at this point? You'd probably do a better job than the professors.)

Anyway. Here's a picture of a completely chaotic portion of my earlier notes for the Contrauniversal Ray:



Hope that's enough! (If not, sorry. I can only divulge so much.)


- Dr. Horrible

Serendipitous progress, subsequent elation, and movies.

This is just a really quick post that I couldn't fit on twitter without breaking it (even though I did hypothetically break it by a Ramsey theory reference, not that I'm proud or anything - and not that I really consider my reference to be the reason for the subsequent super-capacious claim by the website itself), because I obviously need an outlet for my excitement.

The frame is finished, cured, and ready to take on the rest of the ray.

By the way, the movie The Incredibles? I will never derive equivalent joy from anything than I do from watching the climax. Syndrome is badass. I usually just stop watching there and pretend he didn't get sucked into a jet engine. Besides, who has time for movies, right?

Who has time for anything, anymore?

I'd much rather be working.<sup>1


1</sup> It sounds so much more convincing in text.

Captain Hammer, epic FAILURE.

Sometimes it's the little things. Like pulling off an especially complicated heist. Or, for instance, watching your nemesis fall on his ass on a freshly-waxed floor.

You didn't think I was there, did you? I was so there. Even getting punched in the face two hours later was worth it.

Special macro post for our hero friend, Captain Hammer! I'll start!





Go!

I don't think that word means what you think it means.

Went to the hardware store today. It was an innocent-enough run. (Come on, do you really think I steal everything? Chemicals and expensive energy cores are one thing, but a wire end brush? It's like, five bucks. Seriously.) Unfortunately, you run into all kinds of special people when you go to a store that mainly sells things with which you can fix other things. These people include, but are not limited to:

1) People who DIY
2) People who try DIY and then come back to the store to get the employees to fix their DIY
3) People who think they are the gods of the electric screwdriver
4) Aliens

Unfortunately, #4 did not show up, but #3 did, and he kept using the word "pneumatic" for everything. I'm not even joking. "Pneumatic" cables for a "pneumatic" this, it's a piece that'll go on a "pneumatic" whats-it. It's going to be pneumatic.

My theory? He was full of hot air.

But maybe that's just me.

This is fun.

Where am I, citizens of this nation? Where am I really?

I just saw an interesting bit on the news where Livewire and I destroyed an ammunitions warehouse along the Jersey border yesterday. Also yesterday: apparently I robbed a bank here, in my precious hometown.

Fun!

- Dr. Horrible

A plan, a great plan.

I was originally going to stick to twitter updates until I finished my blueprints, but I have fifty-eight pages of related equations and other figuring minutiae for just the spatial supply chamber of this thing, and I still haven't actually touched antimatter - figuratively, of course; I don't want to explode.

My eyeballs were starting to do that thing where they start to shake a little of their own volition, so I decided to cool it for a bit. Yeah, I know, I'm looking at words and it's probably going to make the condition worse in the end, but for some reason it feels different. Referring to my eyeballs, of course; blogging always feels the same.

Now that I actually have a viable means of assembling and creating the aforementioned piece of machinery, I feel confident enough in its eventual capabilities for destruction and psychological torment that I'm actually going to reveal its name to you:

The Contrauniversal Ray.

What it is, however, I'll only briefly touch upon. I can guarantee it is one of my most ambitious works: my Epic, my Magnum Opus. It is as of yet, anyway, at the tender age of thirty-one. It will take what you know and love and replace it with what you fear and loathe (good book btw - Thompson wasn't the best writer, but he knew what he was writing about) in the blink of an eye, with but a single clue shed from a sudden burst of visible light.

Ein jeder lernt nur was er lernen kann;
Doch der den Augenblick ergreift,
Das ist der rechte Mann.

It's gonna be sick. Very exciting.

Back to it!

The city grows on you.

Like a fungus. It ... eh. Okay, old simile. Old simile. But it's true. I mean, sure, the people here are more swarm-y and angry, but that just means that I can call them lichen instead.

Moving on.

Turns out our attack on the NYSE looked a lot bigger than it actually was. For reasons I'm not ready to reveal at this moment, I didn't exactly have time to crash the market. What? Time is money, even if the money is floating in some alternate dimension where decimal points are currency.

Anyway, here's an excerpt from one of many newscasts. It's kinda heartwarming, if you want to look at it that way:

February 5th, 2010
Associated Press (AP)
New York, NY

More than five years after that fatal attack on the Brooklyn Bridge, the supervillain Livewire has returned to torment the citizens of the Big Apple once more.

After she turned to focus her evildoing on the West Coast of the United States, the NYPD and press thought she was gone for good. But it appears that the city was too hasty in writing her off. Not only that, but this time: she has company.

Last night, the New York Stock Exchange was brutally terrorized, resulting in five deaths and damages of over $200,000. With Livewire, who pulled most of the punches, was the evil Dr. Horrible of Los Angeles fame.

Could this be the beginning of a national crisis? The NYPD and regional Guild of Good are investigating the matter. Hopefully, the solution will arise before the problem gets any worse.


Cool, right? I got a rep.

Awesomesauce.

Sadly, this is our last night here. Apparently we have plans, but I don't know what they are yet. Should be fun, anyway.


Yours,
Dr. Horrible

This apple is huge!

In NYC on business. I assure you it's important. Was accosted before we even left the airport. Whoops, gave away the we. Ahaha ... anyway, I'm sure it'll happen again. The accosting, I mean. When people here aren't trying to outright ignore you (blissful), they're all up in your face like, "hey, I'm taking your money."

Too bad I'm keeping a low profile; I'd show them what's up, Horrible-style.

On the way to a fancy hotel. Of course I can't say which one. Just know that it's in NY and gives a fantastic view of the city.

You know what? I'm going to use expensive and ridiculous aromatherapy bath products and have an overly extravagant drink named after an obscure Eastern European nobleman. (Note: if said drink does not exist, I will create it using my natural chemist's intuition.)

Also, though I admit I'm extremely knowledgeable, I always try to learn something new every day. Today was no exception.


It's snowing! How cool is that?

Ah, we're here! Catch you later!

(btw, my old Twitter is no longer functional - great time for it to happen, not - so those who were following me previously can now follow my tweets at http://twitter.com/ahorribledoctor.)


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...

I think there are several things I need to re-evaluate. I'm going to acknowledge all of this as a setback. One enormous, terrible, yet completely surmountable setback.

Highlights!
a) the Hammercycle was totally crushed
b) the entirety of California was under ELE control for 20.44 seconds, which beats out Mister Maniacal's 1986 reign by .92 seconds
c) I am still alive and (relatively, though I don't want to talk about it) uncharred, which puts me ahead of Mister Maniacal on (count them) two vital points
d) the look on Hammer's face when the Hammercycle was totally crushed

I'm sure there are more, but I have a headache atm and should probably lay down. Maybe do some subconscious soul-searching. It's funny in an extremely unfunny way - having a lot to think about when the last thing you want to do is think.

In the meantime, I'm at a motel while my apartment (the living part, not the lab - thank you very much) sustains restoration efforts, making soup, tending wounds, deliberating on a new plan, etc etc, moving on ...



Yours,
Dr. Horrible


P.S. Pretty sure I'm just going to get a new car. I like being subtle.

Today was extremely eventful, but I just realized that I haven't eaten dinner alone for a really long time and I had to write about it before I forgot why it was relevant.

More later.

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Update.

Phase one and two of something I'm working on with a colleague is complete. It's going to be awesome. I keep attributing my own reasoning to it, and that really psychs me up.

If I didn't, you know. Stuff would ... mmh.

BTW, how about those playoffs? I've been hearing about them everywhere and I'm really interested in speculations about who might win the Super Bowl. (Note: This is sarcasm. If you answer with something expressing a genuine interest and/or say something sports-knowledgeable, I'll permanently ban your IP. Just sayin'.)

Introspection, take two.

I had another post ready, but it just didn't fit the whole scheme of the blog. So, I'm going to start over.

There are certain things that bring to light who you are as a person; there are a series of tiny, seemingly insignificant events in a criss-cross pattern through the fabric of the universe that weaves you and determines who you'll be. I'm not a believer in fate. I'm a believer in circumstantial augmentation or detriment; whether the circumstances pull your threads tighter or rip them apart is completely coincidental.

I'll be vague. It's best to be vague.

... Wow, it's really difficult to be vague about something like this. Okay, I can get around it.

First, I've come to the conclusion that nothing is ever purely physical. That's one thing I've learned from my robots. (And kudos to the UCLA professor who diagnosed the culprit behind your slavery. Good luck finding a cure. Not.) Each individual action is controlled by a pulse emanating from the brain. The heart beats involuntarily, the lungs breathe involuntarily, but pretty much everything else? It's a decision.

I don't regret a single decision I've ever made. None of them have ruined me; none of them have made me any less of a supervillain to myself - or, undoubtedly, any of you. Some of them have, however, made me more of one.

And while nothing is ever purely physical, I doubt this decision will be different. However, resorting to the cliché comparison to Newton's third law, I expect to balance myself out.

Confused?

Cool. It was totally intentional. Just note that some plans aren't as well-laid, but they can be incredibly destructive. Like an earthquake. So if I were you (which I'm so glad I'm not), I'd watch out. That's all. Oh wait, you already do. Well, you're not very good at it.


Truly,
Dr. Horrible

P.S. I rode the awesomest electric bike last night, and I crashed so hard, but it was so worth it. I think I need to invest in an alternate form of transportation. No offense to Moist, but ... the 1980 Civic? While reliable, I think I'm growing out of it. Like, retroactively. By several years.

Maybe I'll put in a request.

Revenge is ... kind of spicy, actually

Hey, universe.

Suck it.


Love always,
Dr. Horrible

This just in!

I hate the universe.

The covert operation that I'd been assigned on Bad Horse's order was no doubt an immense success; however, as with many other operations in my history as a villain, not everything went according to plan. Not enough to screw up the intended goal, which was, as previously mentioned, achieved - but enough to make things suck.

On the plus side, I looked amazing.

On the negative side, I'm completely out of heist money. Here's lookin' at you, Wells Fargo!

On the super negative side, I hate the universe. I also hate arrogant douchebags with self-instigated book and toy contracts, not that I'm being too specific or anything because I highly doubt that certain people actually read my blog, even though they don't know what they're missing because I'm sure others find me absolutely enlightening.

Times like this, I just want to punch a kitten.

Too bad they're all cute and stuff.

Dammit.

- Dr. Horrible

Middle of the night musings.

Seriously oh my God I'm never going to be able to sleep again.

I just thought of something that would be bad, so very, very bad, and I can't think of a way to delicately bring the subject up to the other party without incurring physical damage to my person.

Oh ... my God.

Another thing I thought about at approximately three in the morning: I know why Captain Hammer is immune to my ... thing that makes everyone do what I say. It has to do with the fact that he's a rich tool who imports everything, even the water he uses to bathe.

Don't ask me how I know that. It was a really, really unfortunate encounter.

Speaking of unfortunate encounters ...

Oh man.

Compiling done for the new code. 90 percent. I still have to figure out how to get back online. Looking forward to event double-oh-sabotage. Everything's all lined up. Not really happy about how they got there, but everything's lined up.

Whatever.

Kisses, but please brush your teeth first,
Dr. Horrible

Very funny.

I track IPs through all my e-mails using sophisticated software, Fake Thomas Jefferson (and yes, I said "fake," what're you gonna do about it?), and I don't care if you pretend not to know how to use a computer, or know what a computer is for that matter. But convincing Dead Bowie to send me an e-mail with the text "So, did you tap that?" is totally out of line and completely unprofessional.

My personal life is nobody's business but my own. That's why they call it personal.

- Dr. Horrible

P.S. I happen to know that my personal life is probably way more interesting than yours, so I can understand why you'd be concerned, but again. Personal.

P.P.S. Bite me.

What.

So, apparently, the GPS signal is offline. How can three satellites get thrown off course by space junk in one ... never mind. Forget it. The toys are on the shelf for an undetermined amount of time, so to speak, and Phase 3 is down to 85 percent. Which, naturally, pisses me off indescribably, but hey. These things take time, we hit snags, but it'll all be back up and running soon, so don't you fret your boggled little heads about it.

Rather, in the interim, go have fun with your friends and family. Consider this a gift from me to you: a small reprieve from the fear of being controlled by an evil genius. I know. Thoughtful, right?

While I work on reprogramming you, I've also been anticipating a lovely little expedition in espionage, the whereabouts and purpose of which I'm going to leave open for interpretation. After all, what kind of spy gives everything away? A bad one, that's what.

Catch you on the flipside (and no, I'm not telling you where that is, either),
Dr. Horrible

Fire and pitchforks and riots, oh my!

So you remember yesterday, right? (Okay, trick question. I'm sure some of you do and some of you don't. To those of you who do: wasn't it awesome? How that parade all of a sudden decided to stop being a parade and start being a rioting mass, completely without direction, only propelled by a sense of gratuitous anger and no self-control?

To those of you who don't: ^That's basically what happened. And it was totally you!)

A round of applause goes out to yesterday's participants. And even though only some of you technically helped me in that small victory, remember: We're all winners.

Isn't that ... something ... your hero says?

Are you starting to ask yourself: "Who is the real hero?"

Oh man, that reminds me of that one comedian that acted like he was high all the time. What was his name? Mitch something? There was a joke about a belt and pants, and the belt holding up the pants but the pants holding the belt, and he was like, "who is the real hero?" and it was great.

No questions yet?

Don't worry. They'll come.


Yours,
Dr. Horrible

Uhm.

Complete indifference. Cool apathy. Mmyep.

What in the hell am I doing?

Uhh, GPS is a little off for ... stuff, so ...

Oh man. I so can't blog right now. Later, sure. And don't worry, it'll be epic as per usual.

I just ...

I gotta get some sleep.

Goodnight, Los Angeles. Sorry about the Hollywood sign. I'm sure you'd understand.

I had to share this. I'm so proud!

An excerpt from the first page of the Los Angeles Times website (oh yeah, the Times). Spelling errors and grammatical mistakes corrected because I can't cope.

January 2, 2010
Associated Press

To people all across America, the New Year is a time for celebration; it's a time for us to start anew, to make resolutions, to better ourselves and our community.

For the residents of Southern California, the New Year has turned into a time of terror.

Villain Dr. Horrible, whose first reign of terror is still fresh in the minds of the Los Angeles community, has initiated yet another campaign to strike fear into the hearts of people all over the nation. With a scheme bordering on mind control [horrible edit 1: dude, not "bordering." it's totally mind control and you know it] the evil scientist has promised that "we won't know when we're compromised, but we'll know when it has happened."

Cryptic? Maybe. Horrible? Of course. Now, in these times of tragedy and fear, we must turn to each other, and naturally, to our hero. Please, save us.

Great, right? Isn't that a crock? "Oooh, our hero, save us, waaaah." Dude. There is nothing that Captain Hammer can do to help you. Brain has once more proven itself to be superior to brawn, and you guys are so screwed. You guys are more screwed than Lindsay Lohan on a three-day bender. You guys are like - if you were set beside an actual screw with a screwdriver jammed in its head, you would be so much more screwed than that.

Meanwhile, I've been enjoying something of a vacation. It's funny how I've just letting a bunch of nobody criminals pull off bank heists that I typically enjoy while I'm slummin' it. Don't you think it's funny? I think it's hilarious.

In other, less work-related news, except it's not really not work-related, but it's happened outside of work, except kind of inside work with someone I work with. Well, maybe not with - the first "with," not the second, because - eeh, wait, I guess that's kinda dubious too, considering the type of work.

Anyway, long story short: It was cool. Yeah. (Man, I miss vlogging. You totally missed my expression of knowing yet detached confidence.)

Knowing, yet detachedly confident,
Dr. Horrible