dark am i, yet lovely, a lily among thorns, majestic as stars in procession

dark am i, yet lovely, a lily among thorns, majestic as stars in procession

Wednesday, 26 January 2011

Bits of Blob

WOMEN AND CHILDREN LINING UP TO BE EXECUTED. The star piece of the 50% Rude collection, book number 13 which has been shelved for the last twelve months, is called Auschwitz vs 731, about German soldiers and Japanese death camp scientists who are surely responsible for inflicting the worst atrocities upon fellow mankind in all civilised history (it makes you wonder what went on before democracies and laws existed). It’s not until you see pictures that the holocaust even begins to sink in. True comprehension is nigh impossible. Just imagine having to strip and wait your turn in an open grave, listening to gunshot after gunshot as your kids hold onto you. To top things off someone is sticking a camera in your face too. It was merciless execution, put frankly. Unit 731 was quite the opposite – slow, excruciating, guinea pig style torture.

I am reminded of the comic’s quest to make light of everything, of choosing to laugh rather than to cry. I’m thinking of a possible sketch about a good-hearted German soldier who has a busy Monday morning schedule ahead of him slaughtering rows of innocent women and children. He used to think posting letters in the cold was bad! It’s his first day on the job and he ... well, that’s enough ... try checking the link beneath to see if you have the stomach for this kind of warped bizarro humour. Remember, we only make fun to cope (although in saying this, there is absolutely nothing funny about Auschwitz vs 731). It's as sober as, well, death. A.D


I’m no sci-fi freak, but the difference for me between DISTRICT 9, SKYLINE, and all the other genre extravaganzas is that DISTRICT 9 and SKYLINE’S penultimate sequences were actually moving. That for me personally sets them apart from the likes of TOSSFORMERS and the like. MONSTERS was a waste of time apart from a nice piano score. I detest the way these movie films reveal a glimpse every now and again, confusing suspense with boredom, like a M.Night Shyamalan picture. It was only marginally better than CLOVERFIELD. DISTRICT 9 took its time to kick in, but once it did boy it hit you with an astounding full-on finale. Monsters never got going, and fizzled out. They shouldn’t call it MONSTERS if it isn’t about MONSTERS.

Coronation Street Tweet
@ KenBarlow Pull sum strings pal & get Baldwin back on the show so he can kick off in the rovers, preferably with Jim McDonald. U r greatest.

(2 million followers, and no friends. 3 degrees, and no common sense)

And Know This, As Standard:
Those guys who put bread in their mouth for a camel to lean in and eat it through the window in a safari park are the bravest dudes known to man.

Oh, and here's DB Tinkerbell's latest tune, poorly recorded just hours ago (although the quality is worse here for some reason). Anyways Partner, Bye for Now!

Monday, 24 January 2011

Bring Only Faith

Click below for the master image at RedBubble:
Adobe Photshop is better than the Internet. Seriously. But it needs the Internet for images. Internet images + Adobe Photoshop = Freedom to Express Oneself. It’s the best combination known to Man. Better than food on the table and a roof over one’s head. Better than fish n chips.
BRING ONLY FAITH was started and completed during late Saturday night/early hours of Sunday morning, so called because the tribesman at the foot of the stairs has his hands full of groceries. There was a film once which may or may not have starred Jeff Goldblum who came face to face with a deity at the climax and sank to his knees in its presence. The deity actually commanded him to drop to his knees, matter of fact (this was so many years ago that any hint of the movie’s name can’t be recalled). This seems like normal behaviour for a member of mankind, flawed with sin and fallibilities. In the proximity of a being so much more sentient than oneself, it seems only commonplace that one would drop to one’s knees. That would be unnecessary in this picture though, as obviously there are stairs to be climbed, an ascent to be reckoned with ... but surely there is no need for the man at the bottom to take his shopping bags upto Heaven with him!? What is in that bag that remains so important, even after death? What beverage is in his bottle?

Surely it must be Marks & Spencers...
You can’t beat M&S...
“My ultimate goal in life is to one day be able to afford to do the weekly shop there.” Anon

Friday, 21 January 2011

Snowy Solarscape

"Drawing is more about how the mind thinks rather than how the hand works."
D. Spartan Cavanagh

"Thanks to the above quote, the day when I put pencil to blank paper is close."
Andrew Donegan



Art Till Death®
“Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Design is knowing which ones to keep.”
Scott Adams
“It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.”
Henry David Thoreau
“Life beats down and crushes the soul and art reminds you that you have one.”
Stella Adler
"Technique is just a means of arriving at a statement.”
Jackson Pollock
"Thank f**k for Photoshop."
Dick Fudge

Sunday, 16 January 2011

God, and My Death

Above: Postcard from the Heavens
Thou shall not be a feeble gibbering wreck
Thou shall not tweet on Facebook
Thou shall not be addicted to blowing things up
Thou shall not make an ass of myself by dancing across pelican crossings
Thou shall not pee in my mate Roland's washing machine
Thou shall not wipe dog poo on my good mate Roland's car handle
Thou shall not empty the petty cash tin in work
Thou shall not feel guilty if I empty the petty cash in work
Thou shall not feel mums' bums in dollar stores
Thou shall not write any more thou shall nots
I sat down for 3 hours the other night and devoured a very long short story of about 75 pages, called MY DEATH by Lisa Tuttle in Best New Horror 16. After 5 pages I almost jibbed it because it didn’t seem to be my style. It was all arty and factual. I stuck with it though and enjoyed it immensely. It was kind of a refreshing mystery tale which I don’t usually read, something I could really get into. The book has reached the end of its 9 week library limit this week, as is so often the case – I got this one in just in time.

I don’t read enough, but lately, when I’ve made the effort, I’ve been richly rewarded. It’s an alternative to watching a movie and just as good. You just need to set aside the time, and never last thing at night in bed because you just fall asleep. Remember, to read is to be in a state of 'low rapture'.

The very next piece in my personal pipeline will be a result of reading the ending in MY DEATH, estimated length a challenging 330 words. It’s good enough picking up techniques and style, but to come away with something in the making as a direct consequence distinguishes the excellent from the inspirational.

Thursday, 13 January 2011

Treelike Sculptures

People have commented that the above pieces look perfectly okay, but it's hard to agree when you know that they should actually bear the same lovely rich copper and yellow tones displayed in the piece below. Verdict: Failure. Reason: Clay.
The above 'Alien Dagger' was the first fantastic result of the new Copper Adventurine glaze. Looking into the sparkly shades really is a kind of adventurous glittery landscape of quartz, but the following two attempts with this glaze, on the much bigger log pieces, have come out burnt-looking and rubbish. The middle one here was a mixture of colours, which came out okay. The candleholder on the right looks decent because the clay is white - on red clay that spitter-spatter blue and yellow glaze hardly shows up. The black piece on the left was dotted with a green glaze thrown onto it straight from the bottle but the 3 heavy layers of plain black overpowered it. Will be going back in with some white splashes on it.
The Ceramic Devision

Revenge of the Bagpipes

Deus Ex Machina Part 2, DB Tinkerbell's 3rd not-so-studio album, is halfway done. There is no rush to the song producing process whatsoever. The average rate must be about 2 tracks a month.

"This was laid down overnight," he says. "You're only as good as your latest offering. One of my very best, it does have to be said."

Tuesday, 11 January 2011

Muscle Poster

Most gym fiction can be find in May of 2010.
Fat or fit....what's it gunna be?

Drunk Driver

Jason mowed down a young teenage boy while in control of his pickup, drunk. A year into his prison sentence his brother told him that he had seen the victim.

“NO BRO, NO!” Jason screamed at him. “YOU CAN’T HAVE SEEN HIM! YOU CAN’T OF!” Jason couldn’t believe how outraged he was at his own brother. It felt like a breakdown in progress.

“I SAW HIM DIE!” Jason added. “I WITNESSED THEM PRONOUNCE HIM DEAD AT THE SCENE!” Only unadulterated terror belittled the traumatic sadness.

His brother stared at him gravely. The victim was back and he had seen him.

NOOO!” Jason screamed. “NOOO!” Jason shouted. And his harrowing noises woke everyone in the cell up.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, dawg?” they said. “You’re one spook-assed messed-up mofo,” they said. “I want this dude transferred in the morning,” they said.

Jason breathed sighs of relief but was the last to fall asleep again. Within the blink of an eye it was morning, and the cell was empty. The only thing in it was a bleached photograph of his victim, the young teenage boy who he had murdered in his pickup. This photograph was a close-up of the face, enlarged to poster size on the wall, altered and blurred to look menacing and scary.

“He sleep walks,” they said. “He was trying to pull something down off the wall in his sleep,” they said. “It was like we weren’t there,” they said.

Jason was transferred to psych wing and put on medication. Just because it was a dream didn’t mean it didn’t feel real at the time.

He was allowed to the chapel once a week. There, he prayed for his victim. He prayed for himself. He prayed for his brother, who had also died at the scene.

I’m not totally comfortable with this. I’d much prefer some romance at the moment. Happiness and joy and laughter and smiles and happy endings in spring meadows beside live bands and ice cream stands. Unfortunately, horror is part of life, and this IS the Wheel of Life.

2nd Opinion. It’s strange how our brains work, how we interpret the dead. If we are delirious with fear, we tell ourselves that the other side is only scaring us because it’s the only way to make us listen, and that they are doing it for our own good to give us a kick up the backside. Otherwise, it’s merely chemicals in the brain on overdrive. We take comfort either way. Compact message, this. R. Stevens

Toast Monster

© Berky
I bought Flora Proactive for years, but Clover makes the toast. The bread doesn’t matter with Clover. My friend put me onto it when he asked if I wanted any butter on my burger. He puts it on everything. The same could be said for red sauce. My friend puts red sauce on his Sunday dinner. 100% true.

Why I’m sharing my thoughts on toast, I don’t know. I never believed I’d live to see the day when I had nothing on my mind but toast.

I eat 4 rounds, then I eat another 4. I wash it down with Ovaltine. Within 10 minutes, I feel like more toast. It’s quick, it’s simple, it tastes divine. It’s filling, you can chomp on it, there’s little washing up to do afterwards (all I do is stroke the crumbs off and reuse the same plate). There’s nothing else like a mouthful of toast.

I went through more than a whole loaf one Sunday and started to panic. My mouth was all greasy and my heart started palpitating. I felt like all the ingredients in my stomach were taking over my body. No matter how many times I licked my lips it felt like I was licking fresh toast. I decided to get some fresh air.

Toast, toast, toast, was all I could think. I couldn’t take my mind off it, even outside. I’d amalgamated the insane amount I had eaten into the physiology of my body. My fingers stunk of toast. I was breathing it, sweating it, thinking it. I was swallowing my saliva and it was like drinking it. I had become something else, prior to this record ingestion. I had become some kind of TOAST MONSTER.
To budding writers: If you ever find yourself writing about toast, you need to seriously evaluate your life. Either that or apply for day release. Anthony Horowitz says that writers need to get out and experience life, otherwise they will end up writing about being stuck in a room, or at a desk etc. We’ll let Berky off as an exception because his flash fiction is culinary-based. He makes his living from a mobile food unit.

2nd Opinion. There’s no sign of a middle or end. This is like writing for writing’s sake. Mercy have it that it’s so short. Imagine how this would develop into a longer work? What would be next, that this toast monster attacks a child? This prose is so idle it hurts. It’s brain numbing. It’s coma inducing. It’s auto-fiction without the fiction. The most boring running commentary in the world. Is it supposed to be funny or what? What’s it supposed to be? R. Stevens

Monday, 10 January 2011

Bagpipe Girl

Hypnogogic Textures
Ya what, ha? Productions
DB Tinkerbell

Pictures for the latest song from DB Tinkerbell on his Yamaha DJXII. Soon to be on Quasarboy77's YouTube channel. It's a smash.

Saturday, 8 January 2011

Piano Solo 2006

Me playing the piano, can you?

Friday, 7 January 2011

Movie of the Month

This is not the usual place for movie reviews, but The Anonymous Journalist discloses why he is so excited about his latest cinematic experience. Rest assured, it must have something special about it to even get mentioned on The Blob.
From the first few seconds I knew I was watching a quality vid. It’s lovely when that happens. Just the style of the opening shots win you over from the get-go. The main lead was excellent in DEAD MAN’S SHOES, another British movie, and in this, only the second time I have ever seen him, he was no letdown either.

The great thing about British movies, apart from being able to relate to the enhanced realism more, is recognising familiar faces. More often than not, they’re fringe actors, coming into their own, rather than typecast veterans from Hollywood who play themselves more than the characters they are portraying.

Samuel L Jackson is a perfect representation of someone who turns up on set and simply plays himself (not always a bad thing). His persona has far outgrown the gravity of any fictional character. Take Lecter, for example, an even more extreme case, whose best character has BECOME himself, and overtaken the already irrepressible Sir Anthony Hopkins – it doesn’t matter what picture he's in, he will always, unmistakably, be HANNIBAL THE CANNIBAL.

Familiar faces from British soaps and brand new total unknowns are a blessing, for me. It’s nice to recognise locations and accents.

THE HEAVY was pure quality. It showed you London in daylight, the kind of bright outdoors flick I enjoy, in comparison to dark films such as Alien Vs Predator and whatnot where you’re straining to see what’s going on in places you have no connection with. It never does too much, this, either – it touches you just slightly, without getting soppy, only suggestively hinting at romance/devotion/all the teary stuff, rather than going overboard on it. There are some big names in this, and they perform better than I’ve seen them elsewhere. Personal Bests, I call performances like that.

It’s a macho movie, this, but it has its thinking cap on. It’s full of pace and punch and panache, and even has a TVR as the star car. As a first feature from a director, I'd say he absolutely nailed it. Keep it in mind for when you're browsing the Blockbuster shelves, if you still visit Blockbuster. Is Blockbuster still going?

A.J's Diet Status Today: Quaker Oats with Water, Chicken & Vegetable Stir Fry with White Rice, 3 Rounds of Wholemeal Toast with Clover Light, Bran Flakes with Skimmed Milk, Jelly Babies Smoothie with Marshmellows and Northumberland Fudge flavoured Treacle.

Thursday, 6 January 2011

Koestler Picture Preview

This year, for the Koestler 2011 competition, Piebald77 is providing visual accompaniments for the 6 best short stories in the fiction category http://piebald77.blogspot.com/2010/12/koestler-judging-preview.html, along with written critical feedback. Here is a sneak preview of one of those pictures.

It’s a sound pleasure to have someone else create impressions from your work. The authors are bound to be pleased, and that pleasure extends both ways.

This story had a scene which really snagged in the mind, like the finale in a memorable movie. It involved a chase onto a rooftop by the law, but also featured a supernatural aspect, to do with numbers, equations, mathematics and such.

Tuesday, 4 January 2011

Ugly Piece

This started off promising but was ruined by being fused into an erect base. It should have been moprphed into a shapeless lump. The glaze didn't fasten onto it properly either (terracotta clay is never getting used again because it is simply too dark and overpowers most of the colours you paint onto it - what you can mainly see is the dull orange/brown terracotta). This piece is just so rotten ugly - but at least it is different, on the upside. There is a fast growing reject pile as the quality of earlier pieces looks dated in comparison to newer objects. The good news is that even the worst reject can become the star of the show after applying another paint job (which by definition should be experimental because there is nothing to lose with a reject) and refiring in the kiln. Here's to the failed batch! Long and stylishly may you be resurrected!

Monday, 3 January 2011

Still Rolling On

The trial year is up and Piebald77 wants to work on hard copies of material rather than digital information in lingo but to stop posting even for a month results in a heavy blow to the blog’s demise. The whole idea of a weblog is to actually keep the darn thing going. This whole conception was based on the question of exactly that – is this possible? Can one keep it chugging when the content runs thin, the viewership slim, and the motivation, well, grim.

The general theory is to be able to drop in at any given time and see some fresh stuff. Too many other blogs have a last entry which is months or even years old, and it makes you wonder if the host died.

There are real fears as to publishing real peoples’ work online, however, willy nilly, always and forever. Even copyrighted, there just isn’t a valid goal associated with it. Sure there’s the exposure, but this is severely limited to people of interest such as family and friends.

There are thoughts as to a new blog address – a switch of theme and whatnot, but for the one or two who actually might be returning to this piebald77 business, then that, like a whole month’s break, would be counterproductive.

So, slowing down, but going nowhere yet.

C’mon, 2011, let’s see what you got, you son of a goddamned...