So those of you who know me, know that I tend to fight the whole bigger, better, faster, more paradigm of personal technological gadgetry on the grounds that, for the most part I equate it with electronic masturbation. However, I had cause this morning that I absolutley kicked myself in the dirty hind-parts for not having a phoen with a camera in it. And, yup, you guessed it, I'm'a gonna tell y'all why...
Pulling onto Brighton Ave this fine, frigid-@$ first part of the day, I got stuck at the train crossing. Now, normally, I bring the hard-hearted hate when I'm behind the wheel. I mean really, with the sheer number of sh@theads that are allowed to have licenses and feel it necessary to drive at the same time of day that I need to, I feel downright obligated to drive offensively. Straight CARWARS-stylee. For those of you not down with Steve Jackson, that means I drive like MadMax as a matter of course. Why? Cause stupid should hurt and the weak need to be culled from the roads...but more on this later.
The point being, normally when I get stopped at a railroad crossing, it turns into a self-directed maelstrom of hot hate in my car. However, with the self-discovery trip I'm on right now, I chilled, pulled into the left lane and watched the cars go by.
First thing I thought of was Baldy (that's my grandfather, you sickos, getcher minds outta the gutter) and watching the trains out behind the greenhouse when I was a kid. Such a simple thing and yet whe you're a kid, that kind of thing is the hotness. Period.
The next thing I noticed (and here's where I start ot bring it back in. watch...) was that the quality of the graffiti on the cars was far and away better than most of what we see up here in the southern northern reaches and I was seeing the work of several writers recurring. I'm a fan of graffiti, but one of my big pet peeves is the schwag bollocks that passes for writing around these here parts. This stuff was waaay beyond the stuff we normally get around here. It was on the level, yo.
And I really wished I had a camera in the communicator-box or a real-camera to document and capture the images and give props to some pros who truly set me day spinning in the right direction.
So, my apologies to my faithful readers for having failed in being able to share the dopeness, but I guess I'll throw out a little moral, if you'll indulge me: keep your eyes open. You never know where the dopeness will hit you...
13 March 2009
11 March 2009
Tick Tock Tick Tock
Just a quick update to let you all know I'm still think 'bout'cha. Got a couple of pages of sketches I'm working on tidying up for post and hope to have those up by the end of the week.
Saw Watchmen this weekend and I have to give the powers behind it some credit--it wasn't as bad as it could have been. In fact, it really wasn't a bad translation of the book, taken point for point. Casting was pretty good, effects and set design were excellent and the story was faithful, almost to a fault.
So what, then, is it that's got my boxers in a bunch? There have been a couple of things that stuck in my craw--Malin Ackerman as the Silk Spectre II--good job physically casting her, but kind of flat and nowhere near the intensity that Laurie had in the book. A little more gratuitous sex?--sure but didn't really add anything to the movie except it was obviously thrown in for the "I still live in my mom's basement and haven't had a date since the first Bush administration" crowd; somewhat annoying, but expected, sadly. The over-the-top bloodshed?--again, not wholly unexpected, though not entirely horrible, in and of itself.
No, I think what really bothered me about this movie was more subtle. The book was dark. Grim. There's no arguing that. But the book focused more on the senseless violence of society against the individual as opposed to the film's focus on person to person violence. And I think that's where it started to unravel for me.
The next thread that let go was in the fact that in the book, the characters were complicated and developed and entirely human. There was a lot going on from frame to frame and the story was told in such a way that the reader is never allowed to get fully comfortable with any given character. No one in the book is innocent, no one is "the bad guy" or "the good guy". The labels that litter the conventional superhero comic book are turned on end and parodied by Watchmen and used to mirror the horror and beauty of modern life.
And that was my big gripe with the movie. It wasn't so bad, and really as far as translations between media go, it was pretty good. But only as a stand-alone thing. In comparison to the source material, the movie is really nothing more than a thin shadow that, at its best, will serve to pique the audience's interest in reading the book.
And that's all I've got for now...
Saw Watchmen this weekend and I have to give the powers behind it some credit--it wasn't as bad as it could have been. In fact, it really wasn't a bad translation of the book, taken point for point. Casting was pretty good, effects and set design were excellent and the story was faithful, almost to a fault.
So what, then, is it that's got my boxers in a bunch? There have been a couple of things that stuck in my craw--Malin Ackerman as the Silk Spectre II--good job physically casting her, but kind of flat and nowhere near the intensity that Laurie had in the book. A little more gratuitous sex?--sure but didn't really add anything to the movie except it was obviously thrown in for the "I still live in my mom's basement and haven't had a date since the first Bush administration" crowd; somewhat annoying, but expected, sadly. The over-the-top bloodshed?--again, not wholly unexpected, though not entirely horrible, in and of itself.
No, I think what really bothered me about this movie was more subtle. The book was dark. Grim. There's no arguing that. But the book focused more on the senseless violence of society against the individual as opposed to the film's focus on person to person violence. And I think that's where it started to unravel for me.
The next thread that let go was in the fact that in the book, the characters were complicated and developed and entirely human. There was a lot going on from frame to frame and the story was told in such a way that the reader is never allowed to get fully comfortable with any given character. No one in the book is innocent, no one is "the bad guy" or "the good guy". The labels that litter the conventional superhero comic book are turned on end and parodied by Watchmen and used to mirror the horror and beauty of modern life.
And that was my big gripe with the movie. It wasn't so bad, and really as far as translations between media go, it was pretty good. But only as a stand-alone thing. In comparison to the source material, the movie is really nothing more than a thin shadow that, at its best, will serve to pique the audience's interest in reading the book.
And that's all I've got for now...
04 March 2009
no art tonight...
apologies, mein freunds, but no new artwork this fine, frigid evening. no, I apparently have been far too involved in the small screen of late. and by that, I mean the computer. this beast of a PC dino-puter is taking up much of my precious minutes in the pursuit of mastery over the social network. yes, my friends, I have succumbed to the Facebook and am in what I hope to be the initial addiction phase of membership.
I must admit, the interaction is fascinating to watch. how people find you and find their way to you. how you find your way to them. the level that people are content to leave their "friendships". it is all enthralling. like digital Soma... it makes one wonder, yes?
but back to the makey-makey. as I said, no makey-make tonight, but perhaps I will doodle up another sketch to post up or bring the noise with some pages from my hard-hearted, hoo-doo, heat-holder; my MAIN sketchbook, y'heard.
I must say, that it is strange to see my own work posted up and out there for anyone to see. it's almost motivating. especially when I can look at something that started off as a sketch in my notebook and say "hey, that's not half bad." which is certainly saying SOMETHING, considering how hard-hearted I usually am towards my own work.
so, although I have no art to post up tonight, I promise, O faithful readers and viewers, there will be more ORIGINAL artsy-farsty to follow.
SOON.
and till then, go look at some Dave Gibbons, yo.
I must admit, the interaction is fascinating to watch. how people find you and find their way to you. how you find your way to them. the level that people are content to leave their "friendships". it is all enthralling. like digital Soma... it makes one wonder, yes?
but back to the makey-makey. as I said, no makey-make tonight, but perhaps I will doodle up another sketch to post up or bring the noise with some pages from my hard-hearted, hoo-doo, heat-holder; my MAIN sketchbook, y'heard.
I must say, that it is strange to see my own work posted up and out there for anyone to see. it's almost motivating. especially when I can look at something that started off as a sketch in my notebook and say "hey, that's not half bad." which is certainly saying SOMETHING, considering how hard-hearted I usually am towards my own work.
so, although I have no art to post up tonight, I promise, O faithful readers and viewers, there will be more ORIGINAL artsy-farsty to follow.
SOON.
and till then, go look at some Dave Gibbons, yo.
02 March 2009
Yeah, that's right.
The update is small, but I figured a little art-type-peice in the profile might be aproppos. Check it. Not much to go on, but that's just a doodle character that's been haunting my sketchbook for a couple years now. Figured he needed to get out. Watch for the evolution, yo.
Kind of a doodle-demon,
a sketch-imp,
a line-art lich,
creeping the coils that bind my sketches,
stalking the stock pages of my bristol board pad,
haunting the blank pages that my mind pours onto...
the quick-sketch character story in one act, yo.
01 March 2009
human cannonball
I've been reading some about the first human cannonball, a fourteen-year-old girl who performed under the name "Zazel." Which got me thinking about the daredevilry of our youth and how that often carries with us into realms that perhaps are best left slower.
For instance: there's a blurb in this month's issue of Wired that interviews a man who is in the process of trying to access and flip the genes in chicken embyos to enact the resurrection of the dinosaurs. Now, we're not talking about Jurassic Park-style monsters roam the earth armageddon style resurrection. I think this is much more innocuos and at the same time more reason to worry.
This doctor is working on research that will allow scientists to access the genetic material of chicken embyos and essentially flip the switch on certain characteristics. Basically, chickens retain the DNA of the dinosaurs. Certain genes are turned on in order to block those traits. The two mentioned are the trait of the long tail and that of fusing three finger/claws into wings. By turning those traits off while still in a formative stage, the result will allow, for instance the long tail and three fingers rather than wings to manifest.
I now have an image of tiny, feathered dinosaurs which frankly scares me. Big dinosaurs are destruction incarnate, agreed. However, if I was a dinosaur, I think I'd be more than a little pissed that I was A) tiny, B) feathered and C) ridiculous looking. I'm sorry but the lifeform they're talking about here sounds like a gremlin covered in featherbed innards. Why? How is this a good idea?
According to the article, the goal here is to allow a gateway byu which to jump to working with spinal regeneration and other life-altering bio-technologies. It is, regretably, largely beyond my grasp, but sure, I can see the benefit in theory. I just wonder if sometimes we experiment a little too freely with our knowledge. What I'm thinking of here is the argument looking at science: "Just because we can doesn't mean we should."
I think it should be noted that the scientist that is doing this work, was a consultant on Jurassic Park. Things that make you go "hmmmm..."
For instance: there's a blurb in this month's issue of Wired that interviews a man who is in the process of trying to access and flip the genes in chicken embyos to enact the resurrection of the dinosaurs. Now, we're not talking about Jurassic Park-style monsters roam the earth armageddon style resurrection. I think this is much more innocuos and at the same time more reason to worry.
This doctor is working on research that will allow scientists to access the genetic material of chicken embyos and essentially flip the switch on certain characteristics. Basically, chickens retain the DNA of the dinosaurs. Certain genes are turned on in order to block those traits. The two mentioned are the trait of the long tail and that of fusing three finger/claws into wings. By turning those traits off while still in a formative stage, the result will allow, for instance the long tail and three fingers rather than wings to manifest.
I now have an image of tiny, feathered dinosaurs which frankly scares me. Big dinosaurs are destruction incarnate, agreed. However, if I was a dinosaur, I think I'd be more than a little pissed that I was A) tiny, B) feathered and C) ridiculous looking. I'm sorry but the lifeform they're talking about here sounds like a gremlin covered in featherbed innards. Why? How is this a good idea?
According to the article, the goal here is to allow a gateway byu which to jump to working with spinal regeneration and other life-altering bio-technologies. It is, regretably, largely beyond my grasp, but sure, I can see the benefit in theory. I just wonder if sometimes we experiment a little too freely with our knowledge. What I'm thinking of here is the argument looking at science: "Just because we can doesn't mean we should."
I think it should be noted that the scientist that is doing this work, was a consultant on Jurassic Park. Things that make you go "hmmmm..."
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