As we all know, I try to keep it gangsta around here. So, while I work on this review, you can all enjoy this slice of keeping-it-real:

Please. There's no need to thank me. Just the knowledge that you're basking in the glory of Lil' Jon's teeth is enough.

Being broke is the worst thing for a reviewer. The worst. It's not because of the surviving on ramen noodles or the wearing of the same pants for ten days in a row; I am a pro at thriving under those conditions. No, it's the inability to purchase materials for reviewing, because the world turns, and as it turns sometimes books fall off of it.

I'm talking about things going out of print, of course. Back when I started this project, barely had I started amassing my now-sprawling collection of things to read when one Sarah Russell, author of such amazing tour-de-forces as The Angel in Hell, yanked her books from Lulu, making them no longer available to the general public. Why did she do this? I have no idea. Maybe they weren't making enough money to justify her keeping up the Lulu account; maybe, with a few years since publication under her belt, she decided to remove them to make way for newer, better things; maybe even Lulu discovered it had a quality threshold. I don't know.

But what I do know is that I was the saddest creature ever when I discovered this. I was the only Who in Whoville who did not get a replacement Christmas gift, that is how sad I was. Because how can I do a really thorough representative run through these things if they're disappearing before I can buy them? How will I ever know the true academic enlightenment of being A Real Expert if the things I'm supposed to be expert in disappear? It's like they never existed; only I and the ISBN database know the truth.

Now, in Russell's case, I was able to find someone out there in the world who had bought a copy of one of her books and was willing to part with it for the low low price of $5.95 plus my dignity, but that was still only one of them. I feel confident that I have a pretty decent grasp on Russell's place in the grand continuum of Phantom-inspired works from the sample of her writing I did get to peruse, but I don't know for certain. She could have been completely different in another work and I just wouldn't know. My Whoville sadness from this debacle has never truly healed, you see.

This has had the effect of causing me to buy things heinously out of order; whenever something comes out for a self-pubber instead of through official channels, I'm all OH SHIT GOTTA BUY THAT RIGHT NOW BEFORE THE AUTHOR DISAPPEARS IN A SWAMP ACCIDENT. It's a practice I have not been able to shake. You don't understand. THIS IS FOR LITERATURE.

This is all coming up today because I had finally scraped together enough dollars to go ahead and purchase the second Phantom-inspired book by one Angel Taormina, whom I believe I have discussed on this blog previously. She is a woman who clearly believes in herself even when everyone else is calling her a delusional nutjob so I was hoping I'd have some time, but lo, when I went to Amazon, there was the dreaded OUT OF STOCK tag. Worse, when I went to Labor of Love Publishing, Taormina's self-headed publishing outfit, its website was down.

I CANNOT GO THROUGH THIS HEARTBREAK AGAIN.

So while I'm busily rampaging around the internet trying to find Taormina and see if she's interested in some secondhand, obviously used-goods dignity that I found in the back of my closet of shame, I'm also offering said tatters to you people. The Phantom fan community, oddly enough, appears to enjoy reading my reviews; in the past, you guys have been absolute dolls, emailing me encouragment, being patient through my long working silences, and even sending me packages with various books for my perusal. I can't even name everyone who's done so, that's how many of you guys are made of excellence and cherries.

So, since there seems to be some support and since I don't want to have to cry into my beer for another couple of months while visions of amazing, perfect literary manifestos lost forever to the sands of time dance in my head, I'm adding that fancy donation button to the right-hand side of my website. WHAT, you say, YOU EVIL CAPITALIST SHILL! But hear out my stipulations:

1) Nobody ever EVER has to donate. Ever. I love you all exactly the way you are, even if you're Cheeto-dust-covered lurkers who hate my guts. If that donation meter stays at zero, I'll still be chugging along putting out reviews as often as I possibly can, just because I love doing it that much. (I'm not saying you can't buy my love. You can. But you don't have to.)
2) Any pennies that come from the donation button will go to buying Phantom Project stuff only. That means books, movies, scripts, soundtracks, games, or anything else that gets reviewed just for the Project. If I can't pay rent, well, me and my new shiny Phantom book will have to read in a bus station for a while, because these are earmarked pennies and they're going nowhere else.
3) You can now not only buy my love, you can buy my reviews. Not the grades - bad is bad is bad, and I think we all know that me trying to straight-facedly say that something bad is good or vice versa might cause a nuclear incident - but if you'd like to send me a note when you donate requesting a certain thing be reviewed next, I'll move it up to the front of the line. If I don't have it yet, I'll move it up to the front of the buying line. There are a lot of lines in my life.
4) Just in case anyone is concerned, there will never be ads here. Dude, I'd have to look at them, too. I do not have the patience or fortitude of mind to be assaulted by advertising on my own website, and I assume you guys don't, either.

So that's all there is to it, really. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go finish ranting at this vampire-filled book, buy ten bottles of something that can strip paint off my front porch, and then drink it while crying tears of regret and remorse over Taormina's missing book and fear of recrimination from the wildness of the internet.

Review when finished emerging from drunken stupor. Probably this week, but I make no promises.

Oh, the internet.  Every day there is a new moment when I realize that opening my web browser is like diving into a Roman orgy in the hopes of finding a pocket dictionary hidden somewhere on the premises.

I figured I'd kick this blog's new inaugural day off with a look at all the things it's not about, because Google, Yahoo and other search engines of note are very confused about it.  I kid you not: out of the top twenty search terms that lead people to the Project, ten of them are the names of porn stars.  Fifty percent of my readership are confused, horny people who were just out looking for sultry pictures of their favorite adult film celebrities and instead were hit in the face with a wall of literary criticism.  It's got to be deflating for them, so I'd like to apologize: sorry, internet vagabonds, but I only talk about the non-fun parts of porn.

For a jaunt into my world, let's take a look at some of the other amazing search terms that have led wanderers to my site:

worksafe porn - Um... I feel like someone may not have fully disclosed the meaning of at least one of those two words to you, searcher.

proctor phantoms - Is this referring to some kind of version of the story wherein Erik acts as a district attorney, like Leroux and Dick Wolf collaborated on the new blockbuster television craze?  Oh, my god, I would watch that forever.

blood red throne monument of death - Technically all of those words are on the site multiple times, but I can't help wondering who on earth is searching for this, and why.

one day at a time sweet jesus sheet music - Boy, are you lost.  I'm so sorry.

baby hand deformity - When in doubt, consult the medical wisdom of the internet.

shelob's lair - Ah ha ha ha ha, yes.  Come into my parlor, unwary internet travelers.

sudden sniffing death - I... what?

phantom shit - May I direct you to my F-grade section?

okay man - You... searched for "okay man" and somehow you chose here out of all the places you could have clicked on?  I mean... okay, man.

ricksavage.com - Yes; this person searched for a web address and then clicked through to a completely different website.

what did people blame for causing the plague? - Many things, but your answers do not lie here, wee one trying to use the internet as a source for a paper.

This could go on for hours, but luckily there is only so long even I can be entertained by internet stupidity.  Luckily, enough people actually get here that are trying to get here that I don't feel the need to just give up and reinvent myself as a porn-vending thesis-writer for hire.

If it looks like I'm trying to procrastinate instead of having to read yet another book about the Phantom as a vampire... that's probably because that's what I'm doing.

And here we are, with something that (hopefully) looks less like the chronology of the Phantom Project was sick all over one of the pages of its website.  Nothing too snazzy, I know, but perhaps someday I'll be motivated enough to even make this look like it has something to do with the Phantom story.  Probably not, but y'all can dream.  In the meantime, you can enjoy new features that blogs (as opposed to webpages that say they are blogs but are clearly lying) are supposed to have, including the ability to comment (le gasp!) and follow on your fancy RSS feeds if you feel so inclined.

Moving all the posts over to this new blog was a nostalgic trip down memory lane; the Project is over four years old now and looking back at the things I once thought about it is hilarious.  Oh, me of 2007... you thought maybe you'd have to buy "ten more books or so"?  And what about Anne of 2009, who thought she was going to finish in time to be up to date when the new Webber musical came out?  Join me in a sorrowful chuckle at that poor, naive girl.

Since it's all sparkly and new, I'm even going to try to update this shiny new toy of mine more than once a month, and possibly even with more than one-line "here's a review, now get off my lawn" updates!  We'll see if the dream lasts.

In the meantime, thanks for being badasses, internet readers!

The Alonso/Tilford review is up, after a long time of waiting.  Everybody send a big holler of thanks out to Tom Alonso himself, who was nice enough to let me listen to his musical and say things about it on the internet.

Now that it's a giant, sprawling, useless pile of gross on my website, I'll be working on fixing this blog so that it's actually, you know, a blog.  Watch this space for, at some point, the ability to see blog entries without your eyes bleeding and your browser crashing, and even the ability to leave comments on them (oh, that I can't wait for).

Damn, now that I said I was going to do it, I have to actually remember to do it instead of eating a pint of Half Baked and going to sleep.