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

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

...

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.

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.

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

I have all the luck in the world.

Seriously. Professor Normal? So not invited to my villainous Christmas party. (This, as you can imagine, is considered a huge slap in the cyborg jaw among our circles. Parties are huge - a huge part of the evil subculture - so by not being permitted to partake in the festivities, I think Professor Normal should be hesitant to show his face at meetings. For, you know, a couple of days at least. Speaking of that face, I can't believe he hasn't finished his transformation. I mean, yeah, there was the addition of the bionic eyes, but it would have been a lot more impressive if one of them hadn't popped out and rolled across Bad Horse's dossier.)

Anyway, the reason I'm scorning him is because, as you can see, I'm not writing from my usual servers. Open source is cool and all; I can appreciate the sentiment behind it, but I'd much rather blog on my own turf. To have the advantage of the home ground. Not be at the mercy of some ... exceedingly fun yet frighteningly absorptive corporate machine.

THIS IS ALL NORMAL'S FAULT. I have like, at least a hundred safeguards and backups against server failure, but I guess there's really no safeguard against human ignorance.

"- yes, the power's all the way up. No, you don't need to hold it. I said you don't need to hold it. I SAID YOU DON'T NEED TO - AAAAGH, NOOOOO!"

Little did I know, his ears were a mechanical prototype.

I should have never agreed to host his Pampered Chef website. I mean, not only did I just set myself up for a critical server failure, but Pampered Chef? It just goes against everything I stand for. In a roundabout, metaphorical sort of way.

So, here I am, blogging on a pre-made template. Luckily I had all of my previous entries saved to an external hard disk that wasn't connected to the server chain - two, in fact, because you never know - and I'll probably be transferring the relevant ones over here as I see fit. The damage to the servers was pretty severe, and repairs have to be done by my hand due to the motherboard modifications I'd implemented in order to sync them up to various WMDs. I found an evil forum that lets you post the stats of your latest projects in weaponry. Granted, I think I'll always be a lurker just because of the questionable security of posting your junk's junk for the world to see and possibly defeat, but the idea of it is really neat. I've used a couple mods from the site myself. And no, don't even ask, I am not posting the URL. The last thing I need is to feel responsible for a n00b invasion to the darkest recesses of the internet. I don't want my research sites turning into, like, 4chan.

At any rate, I made a new friend yesterday. If by friend I mean horrifying, violent, fist-happy, constantly hormonal acquaintance, and you can guarantee that in this context, I do. Field trip to the courthouse, kind of random but all in all decently productive. Striking fear into the hearts of the masses is one of those treasured, incorruptible pastimes in which I can't indulge enough. Like hot apple cider on a cold winter's day.

We blew stuff up.

Snow showed up, too, though that's hardly worth mentioning. Except maybe for the part where I punched him out. I mean, it wasn't even intentional. It just happened that he ran into my fist. And almost broke it. It still aches, and there's a Johnny-jaw shaped bruise across my fingers. Whatever. "Inelegant, yet effective." I agree.

In retrospect, I would have liked to go in there with a plan, and maybe an exercise in subtlety, but I guess for what we were intending to accomplish, we made out pretty well. I still wish I would have grabbed the file cabinet while I had the chance. Cherry wood. It was cherry. Sophisticated, durable, and efficient. It would have been perfect for the office.

Well, there you have it. I don't know how long I'm going to be using this platform, but it'll probably be for a while. Speaking of, I should probably go and work on the servers. The first shipment in parts is scheduled to come in tomorrow morning, and I want to have everything ready for installation.

Always yours, always evil,
Dr. Horrible


ETA: BTW, new iPhone. It's still the same number. I don't know why I felt the need to mention it, unless someone in particular is among my readers, in which case I say HA. HA. Enterprising effort aside, I will never be defeated. Not even electronically.