Is it absurd to believe in unbelievable things?
To believe in things with wings and teeth with ancient knowledge in their eyes.
We've heard the things that go bump in the night and we've told ourselves fantasies that they are just the wind, just a cat, not a troll. Not an enormous evil green thing with rows of sharp teeth, not a mischevious pixie, not a wise satyr. We tell ourselves these little things to keep us in a reality we can observe, we live so superficially and yet...
We believe in men in the clouds that could influence our days but don't. In twelve armed women and elephants. We believe in souls - a spiritual organ - and faith - truth without proof - and yet we dismiss these other things as childhood stories, as things that we tell our kids to grow their imagination before we kill that imagination dead in the shooting range of highschool
And you replace the stories of fairies, of trolls of princes of bravery of life lessons with stories of gods and promises and men with beards and disobedience as the first sin and places we may go if we die. Religion replaces fantasy but should it?
Is god better for us than a hero?
where is the value in hell?
What is the point of waiting for death to appear for paradise to happen?
Can joy not exist here on Earth? On the wide wide globe with its many festive cultures and its scenery and its life.
Even now as the greenhouse gets gased and the mysterious oceans rise up to swallow us is there beauty in the world.
Gaia is still the prettiest woman alive and she is alive. But not alive in our personal bubble.
I sometimes think that when a man is disgruntled with his job and his life, with the decisions he made and the city in which he sleeps and Al Gore appears asking for him to save this world that he really doesn't care. That secretly he is thinking "let it burn! Let the world die, I don't want it." Maybe if he had seen the world he would know differently. Maybe if he broke away from his concrete swathe of habitat he would care more. Maybe men shouldn't be allowed to live in the place they were born. Maybe we are nomads. I know we are nomads
And I know mother Earth has secrets she will not share. In the shadows and the moonlight there are things that lurk, that crawl that prance. The world is magical still.
We are just too old, we have lost the clarity of childhood. Living has been replaced with surviving. We go to school we work and we die. Slowly, ever so slowly just crumbling away in death's eternal circle. So maybe I do believe in magic. Believing in magic is believing that we are naive Naivity is childhood and childhood is where we belong
Tuesday 16 October 2012
Step away from the complaints desk please
Why must we always find so many flaws with everyone else, With everything else; why can't we live in peace?
It starts in school with right and wrong. We're taught life in black and white as if life is a series of two way crossroads and one of them is right. We become obsessed with the idea of making the right choice and never ponder what we left behind.
When we do it's because we've hit a dead end, when something has knocked us back. When evidence presents itself that we have made the wrong choice, that is when we begin to reconsider. There is no right and wrong. There is no black and white. I believe I was once called wrong by saying they are colours. We're so scared of being wrong, terrified to the point of utter violence. Some wars are fought about religion, some about political standing or wealth but what they all have in common is that both sides believe against believe that they were correct and would rather die than have that sacred belief stolen from them. Often they die for what the other team believes in.
When I argue with people I attack their facts and the way they react you'd think I just compared their mother to the metaphorical representation of the city of Babylon in Revelations. People love a sense of right and hate a sense of wrong, it's what makes us human. It comes through in our rules and codes of conduct. I can see it in the pictures teenage girls plaster their facebook walls with. Pictures of how men should behave toward them. They have very strict expectations it seems. If you don't follow them then you might find that your woman has been wronged. Isn't it poetic? The worst thing you can do to a women shares a root word with having an incorrect opinion of things. Strange that I've never seen a man make a picture like that. Why do men not complain about the fickle way in which women behave. There are no pictures on the vast internet about how women can be vindictive and manipulative and cold and selfish. We all know it's true, it just doesn't bother us enough to complain. Women should not blame men for their problems, they should blame feminists. Thanks to feminists women no longer need our protection in this world, they can get along just fine by themselves.
You killed chivalry. You and your pickets and burning bras.
It's not just women. It's everyone. Politics, marketing, sport, clothing, gadgets, music. Every aspect of modern culture is centered on the fact that you are right and they are wrong. Atheism, for example, is a religion based solely on pointing out the flaws of other religions
It starts in school with right and wrong. We're taught life in black and white as if life is a series of two way crossroads and one of them is right. We become obsessed with the idea of making the right choice and never ponder what we left behind.
When we do it's because we've hit a dead end, when something has knocked us back. When evidence presents itself that we have made the wrong choice, that is when we begin to reconsider. There is no right and wrong. There is no black and white. I believe I was once called wrong by saying they are colours. We're so scared of being wrong, terrified to the point of utter violence. Some wars are fought about religion, some about political standing or wealth but what they all have in common is that both sides believe against believe that they were correct and would rather die than have that sacred belief stolen from them. Often they die for what the other team believes in.
When I argue with people I attack their facts and the way they react you'd think I just compared their mother to the metaphorical representation of the city of Babylon in Revelations. People love a sense of right and hate a sense of wrong, it's what makes us human. It comes through in our rules and codes of conduct. I can see it in the pictures teenage girls plaster their facebook walls with. Pictures of how men should behave toward them. They have very strict expectations it seems. If you don't follow them then you might find that your woman has been wronged. Isn't it poetic? The worst thing you can do to a women shares a root word with having an incorrect opinion of things. Strange that I've never seen a man make a picture like that. Why do men not complain about the fickle way in which women behave. There are no pictures on the vast internet about how women can be vindictive and manipulative and cold and selfish. We all know it's true, it just doesn't bother us enough to complain. Women should not blame men for their problems, they should blame feminists. Thanks to feminists women no longer need our protection in this world, they can get along just fine by themselves.
You killed chivalry. You and your pickets and burning bras.
It's not just women. It's everyone. Politics, marketing, sport, clothing, gadgets, music. Every aspect of modern culture is centered on the fact that you are right and they are wrong. Atheism, for example, is a religion based solely on pointing out the flaws of other religions
Friday 14 September 2012
What if I opened a door?
What are you like?
Inside I mean.
If I could reach out and open a door into your mind, your soul, your conscience. If I could literally get inside your head, what would I find?
Do you remember Yu-Gi-Oh? Do you remember the episode where Yugi went into his own mind using that puzzle of his and found himself at a passage dividing his mind from Yami's? His mind was a cluttered mess with all his thought's and interests floating around and Yami's was this cold labrynthical tomb. What is your mind like? Yami or Yugi?
I had a discussion with one of my friends about this once. We were in grade 5 at the time so the details were a bit hazy. We discussed what would determine the landscape and what the thoughts would be like. I seem to remember we settled upon your personality and emotions being the surroundings and that your thoughts and memories would appear in the form of animals and buildings. The animals being recent and the buildings being long held beliefs and ideas.
I remember we joked that his mind would be a hellish landscape with the thoughts being big dracula-esque castles and viscious fellbeasts that would kill you soon as look at you. He was promoting himself as a violent character at the time. He had the size, shaven hair and graphic imagination to make it work I suppose. My mind was a bit more of a challenge. We both agreed you'd probably get lost in their, maybe it was vast, maybe a maze. I like the idea of it being an open wooded landscape but at the same time having an MC Escher feel about it. winding paths that were closed loops, buildfings that sort of mashed together. I also get the idea that a lot of the buildings would be incomplete and fragmented. The biological thoughts would probably be these fast moving whispy things, ever changing, ever moving. They wouldn't be dangerous as they wouldn't even notice you. You and your slow-paced humanity.
And you? Maybe your mind is a club or a garden. An open field, a maze, a strange techno world like in Tron. It's an interesting thought. You should try draw it. I will. I'll draw my mind and I'll post it here later. Pop back in on Monday maybe.
Inside I mean.
If I could reach out and open a door into your mind, your soul, your conscience. If I could literally get inside your head, what would I find?
I had a discussion with one of my friends about this once. We were in grade 5 at the time so the details were a bit hazy. We discussed what would determine the landscape and what the thoughts would be like. I seem to remember we settled upon your personality and emotions being the surroundings and that your thoughts and memories would appear in the form of animals and buildings. The animals being recent and the buildings being long held beliefs and ideas.
I remember we joked that his mind would be a hellish landscape with the thoughts being big dracula-esque castles and viscious fellbeasts that would kill you soon as look at you. He was promoting himself as a violent character at the time. He had the size, shaven hair and graphic imagination to make it work I suppose. My mind was a bit more of a challenge. We both agreed you'd probably get lost in their, maybe it was vast, maybe a maze. I like the idea of it being an open wooded landscape but at the same time having an MC Escher feel about it. winding paths that were closed loops, buildfings that sort of mashed together. I also get the idea that a lot of the buildings would be incomplete and fragmented. The biological thoughts would probably be these fast moving whispy things, ever changing, ever moving. They wouldn't be dangerous as they wouldn't even notice you. You and your slow-paced humanity.
And you? Maybe your mind is a club or a garden. An open field, a maze, a strange techno world like in Tron. It's an interesting thought. You should try draw it. I will. I'll draw my mind and I'll post it here later. Pop back in on Monday maybe.
Wednesday 12 September 2012
"Cause we are the last disease"
I was listening to The Black Parade whilst studying today. Seriously,
I was. Humming the words to dead and tapping my feet to that
driving rhythm in The sharpest lives all the while memorizing functional
groups and teaching myself about galvanic cells. I was thinking that perhaps it
is my favourite album of all time.
My Chemical romance is probably not my favourite band, even though a lot of my friends will claim otherwise. I don't think I can possibly have a favourite band, my music tastes are too widely spread for something like that.
But favourite album... Fast songs deep songs, slow songs, fun songs... Creepy songs, mama. Gerard Way's voice, Frank Iero's guitar... The story, the tightness... It's an amazing album, it really is.
And so I decided to have a look at the band's web page and see if anything new was on its way, and it was. In a sense.
Frank had done a Disney theme tune and Mikey Way is promoting his signature Squier but it's Gerard I really want to talk about.
He has a new song out with Deadmau5 called professional Griefers and it is intense. It's classic dubstep with Gerard's voice belting over the top and dare I say that it is much much better than most of the stuff on Danger Days.
It's about lawlessness and social degration and all the horrible things that plague our modern pop culture. It's a dirty, sweaty, lapdance-joyride through hell and I love it. You have to watch the music video though. It's not the same without that. The video is based around a robotic fight between Gerard and Deadmau5 and all the chaos that ensues. It contains scenes of people watching the fight losing control and this cat that moves around like the plague. When I was watching it I wanted to go out and hit something. I think that says a lot. It's well put together, slick, professional, dirty. An MCR fan I was speaking to said she hated it but I know that's because she dislikes dubstep. Open your mind before you watch it, it's quite a ride.
My Chemical romance is probably not my favourite band, even though a lot of my friends will claim otherwise. I don't think I can possibly have a favourite band, my music tastes are too widely spread for something like that.
But favourite album... Fast songs deep songs, slow songs, fun songs... Creepy songs, mama. Gerard Way's voice, Frank Iero's guitar... The story, the tightness... It's an amazing album, it really is.
And so I decided to have a look at the band's web page and see if anything new was on its way, and it was. In a sense.
Frank had done a Disney theme tune and Mikey Way is promoting his signature Squier but it's Gerard I really want to talk about.
He has a new song out with Deadmau5 called professional Griefers and it is intense. It's classic dubstep with Gerard's voice belting over the top and dare I say that it is much much better than most of the stuff on Danger Days.
It's about lawlessness and social degration and all the horrible things that plague our modern pop culture. It's a dirty, sweaty, lapdance-joyride through hell and I love it. You have to watch the music video though. It's not the same without that. The video is based around a robotic fight between Gerard and Deadmau5 and all the chaos that ensues. It contains scenes of people watching the fight losing control and this cat that moves around like the plague. When I was watching it I wanted to go out and hit something. I think that says a lot. It's well put together, slick, professional, dirty. An MCR fan I was speaking to said she hated it but I know that's because she dislikes dubstep. Open your mind before you watch it, it's quite a ride.
Sunday 9 September 2012
Examination inspiration
My last post was me promising you guys weekly updates from here on out. That was ages ago. Sorry.
You could say I've been busy and I will: I've been busy. there was a play. I was a german doctor who enjoyed poisons. We did fantastically: three standing ovations over three nights of production, sold out our theatre, got one of the cast grounded at the raucous afterparty. It was intense, seriously. Really. I've discovered that I have a theatre jacket. It's a manky brown suede thing, manky because it's suede and drycleaners are scared. I've worn it in house plays, school plays and drama club plays. Any play I've been in since I got it has featured that jacket. in fact the jacket the painting of me is wearing in my profile button thingy is based on it. When I went to an art course I was called a hobo because of it.
Now I've been drawing a lot lately. my thick sketchbook is full now and i've resorted to carrying around a ream of paper to draw on. i'm still planning characters, plots and settings for my comic which will be entitled stranger or oddity or something like that. It stars Finn and Jeffrey and Zachary who travel from world to world in the multiverse in their portable house, number nineteen. Maybe I'll work that into the title, i don't know. There's also a raptor called steven and a greasy looking high school mind rebel and I delve into the five elements and human being's selective vision - an evolutionary trait. It'll probably be a webcomic and I'll start posting sometime next year (or perhaps december, probably december) It all depends on when I can get my hands on an A3 scanner really.
Here is a portion of the first page. (only a portion because I don't have an A3 scanner and the speech bubbles not full of speech because I just haven't inked it yet. It's just to give you an idea really
Characters: (from left) Zachary, Finn and Jeffrey.
Suppression is wonderful inspiration
You could say I've been busy and I will: I've been busy. there was a play. I was a german doctor who enjoyed poisons. We did fantastically: three standing ovations over three nights of production, sold out our theatre, got one of the cast grounded at the raucous afterparty. It was intense, seriously. Really. I've discovered that I have a theatre jacket. It's a manky brown suede thing, manky because it's suede and drycleaners are scared. I've worn it in house plays, school plays and drama club plays. Any play I've been in since I got it has featured that jacket. in fact the jacket the painting of me is wearing in my profile button thingy is based on it. When I went to an art course I was called a hobo because of it.
Now I've been drawing a lot lately. my thick sketchbook is full now and i've resorted to carrying around a ream of paper to draw on. i'm still planning characters, plots and settings for my comic which will be entitled stranger or oddity or something like that. It stars Finn and Jeffrey and Zachary who travel from world to world in the multiverse in their portable house, number nineteen. Maybe I'll work that into the title, i don't know. There's also a raptor called steven and a greasy looking high school mind rebel and I delve into the five elements and human being's selective vision - an evolutionary trait. It'll probably be a webcomic and I'll start posting sometime next year (or perhaps december, probably december) It all depends on when I can get my hands on an A3 scanner really.
Here is a portion of the first page. (only a portion because I don't have an A3 scanner and the speech bubbles not full of speech because I just haven't inked it yet. It's just to give you an idea really
Characters: (from left) Zachary, Finn and Jeffrey.
Suppression is wonderful inspiration
Thursday 2 August 2012
Something wicked that way goes
The ending has left, disappeared. This is too similar to be a new beginning, too plain to be a revival. I am merely resuming the blog. It's as if I pressed stop only once on the DVD of this page and now I shall simply hit play and the movie will resume at the scene it was at as if nothing ever happened.And I'm not spamming on Facebook anymore. Maybe I'll send out a broadcast to no-one, beaming a message into space for any alien ears to pick up or maybe one of my old readers will rediscover the thing and tell their friends. Maybe, maybe, maybe. This picture is in my rapidly filling sketchbook. Look at it.
The blog will be a weekly weekendy thing now. The posts will be as random and varied as usual and will now feature pictures. Most of these will be non-sequitter
Saturday 14 July 2012
So long and next time bring more fish
This will be my last post for a while, for months. I'm banning myself from the internet starting monday as I am about to enter the final straight of my schooling and also work on a musical.
But I won't become a boring bland drama student as I hurtle down this straight, I will also be working on my upcoming webcomic (it is to be a webcomic) and writing things about people for a two off school newpaper. So that's it for us. Maybe I'll restart this but probably not. Or not anytime soon anyway. Anyway bye!
But I won't become a boring bland drama student as I hurtle down this straight, I will also be working on my upcoming webcomic (it is to be a webcomic) and writing things about people for a two off school newpaper. So that's it for us. Maybe I'll restart this but probably not. Or not anytime soon anyway. Anyway bye!
Wednesday 11 July 2012
Words words words
words words. They're a visceral scream, a sonnet, a love poem, a declaration of war, a lonely cry for peace. They're code, they're secrets, they're truth, they're lies; they're the reason we exist as a species.
They're knowledge, they're power and knowledge is power and death is a thing we all know.
Words are priceless, talk is cheap. A secret claws right at your chest.
A word is a monster, a word is a beast, a word is beauty is my muse is a beautiful young woman waiting for her prince. A word is a contradiction, they are pain, they are pleasure. They build societies and tear them down. Wars are fought with words. not bullets. Because even though a picture is worth a thousand words that picture is worthless without the words to support it. To hoist it in the air and wave it like a flag. Its words that brouyght us into this world, words that we carry around our necks to show people who we are.
It isnt punctuation punctuation is a policeman he brings sense to things gives meaning but destroys it too punctuation is the shackal that holds a verse to the floor that constrains it that doesnt let it fly and ignite and set the sky on fire
But it is neccessary. You need the belt to hold up your pants and big brother to keep you in check. Freedom hurts eventually. Freedom will tear at your flesh and slowly break you down, but so will entrapment.
Only entrapment uses chains of fire and shackals of ice. Entrapment pulls you to the floor and has you begging for its love before it drives its bitter boot into your face. Freedom won't do that to you. Freedom holds you in its loving, barbed embrace; singing you lullabies whilst you slowly decay.
Everyone dies, even Gods come to an end. Death stands on the horizon with a sickle and a notebook, waiting to rend your soul from your body.
We all die and so we must live. We must set ourselves free within our slavery. We must write, we must think, we must do what's right. We must do what's wrong. We must abandon all sense and reason and we must not let ourselves be watched.
Who watches the watchmen? No-one, thay're just a horror story.
They're knowledge, they're power and knowledge is power and death is a thing we all know.
Words are priceless, talk is cheap. A secret claws right at your chest.
A word is a monster, a word is a beast, a word is beauty is my muse is a beautiful young woman waiting for her prince. A word is a contradiction, they are pain, they are pleasure. They build societies and tear them down. Wars are fought with words. not bullets. Because even though a picture is worth a thousand words that picture is worthless without the words to support it. To hoist it in the air and wave it like a flag. Its words that brouyght us into this world, words that we carry around our necks to show people who we are.
It isnt punctuation punctuation is a policeman he brings sense to things gives meaning but destroys it too punctuation is the shackal that holds a verse to the floor that constrains it that doesnt let it fly and ignite and set the sky on fire
But it is neccessary. You need the belt to hold up your pants and big brother to keep you in check. Freedom hurts eventually. Freedom will tear at your flesh and slowly break you down, but so will entrapment.
Only entrapment uses chains of fire and shackals of ice. Entrapment pulls you to the floor and has you begging for its love before it drives its bitter boot into your face. Freedom won't do that to you. Freedom holds you in its loving, barbed embrace; singing you lullabies whilst you slowly decay.
Everyone dies, even Gods come to an end. Death stands on the horizon with a sickle and a notebook, waiting to rend your soul from your body.
We all die and so we must live. We must set ourselves free within our slavery. We must write, we must think, we must do what's right. We must do what's wrong. We must abandon all sense and reason and we must not let ourselves be watched.
Who watches the watchmen? No-one, thay're just a horror story.
Drawings and ramblings and sorry for the delay
I don't know why I'm apologizing; this is an irregular blog after all, it's just that there have been pageviews since my last post and I feel guilty knowing that they must include people who are gnashing their teeth and wandering why that monkey fellow won't update already (Simian is the infraorder in which all higher primates fall but is usually used when speaking of monkeys). So I'm updating now and I'll also give you a picture of Zacky Slither, a character I drew last night. I've decided on a bit of a format to use my characters in too: an action-comedy comic about inter-universal travel starring Zacky, a squid called Geoffrey and another character I haven't decided on yet. Aldous is obviously the villain. I'm just not sure if I should do it as a webcomic or a normal comic with pages. This is a big decision and I'd apperciate some comment-based guidance either here or on the Facebook link that probably refferred you here. So anyway, let's show you Zacky:
He's a biomechanic from our world who lost some of his internal organs in a serious accident and had to install a prototype stomach and liver whilst delerious from blood loss. He is the general mechanic and dogsbody of Geoffrey Ian Squid who I will draw and scan for tomorrow. That is a promise, he shall be here. Zacky wears his helmet at all times because he is scared of something happening to his brain which is the only part of the body he can't reconstruct. He's always covered in grease and burn marks and doesn't wash very often.
He's a biomechanic from our world who lost some of his internal organs in a serious accident and had to install a prototype stomach and liver whilst delerious from blood loss. He is the general mechanic and dogsbody of Geoffrey Ian Squid who I will draw and scan for tomorrow. That is a promise, he shall be here. Zacky wears his helmet at all times because he is scared of something happening to his brain which is the only part of the body he can't reconstruct. He's always covered in grease and burn marks and doesn't wash very often.
Saturday 7 July 2012
Scribblings of a blob and a demon
This was supposed to be a page but I have no idea of how to create one. It's a post now, so enjoy it.
It's just some drawings I have done and wanted to share. There's some odd cartoons and some scribbles and some characters I made. Enjoy if you will
He was recruited by the Four horsemen agency a month before his world was deatroyed. When he learnt of the contract it was too late. He lost most of his capacity to feel emotion after that and became the agency's top assassin, surveying the destruction of more than 50 worlds in his time there. I'm thinking that maybe Our universe might be his next one.
A bird-like creature from a universe running perpendicular to ours but not intersecting it.
His world was destroyed by Penderghast's demolition team and he hasn't taken it rather well.A hired gun (axe) now, his entire existence is dedicated towards destroying The killer of his world.
Here is a picture of them fighting. It's a draft and needs some changes, especially Penderghast's hair which is going the wrong way.
It's just some drawings I have done and wanted to share. There's some odd cartoons and some scribbles and some characters I made. Enjoy if you will
Gary the blob
Just some random, badly drawn pun-based comics I made a while ago. They're for people with a strange sense of humour.
Aldous Penderghast and That Bloody Chicken
I'm not sure where the idea of Aldous Penderghast, interdimentional demon bounty hunter came from but the bloody chicken has been lurking in my brain cavity for ages now. Both of them are going to antagonists in a story I have not written yet because I have no storyline or protagonists, just these two and their back stories.Penderghast
Penderghast comes from a dead Parallel dimension which he left long before it was destroyed to seek his fortune and other places.
He was recruited by the Four horsemen agency a month before his world was deatroyed. When he learnt of the contract it was too late. He lost most of his capacity to feel emotion after that and became the agency's top assassin, surveying the destruction of more than 50 worlds in his time there. I'm thinking that maybe Our universe might be his next one.
That Bloody Chicken
A bird-like creature from a universe running perpendicular to ours but not intersecting it.
His world was destroyed by Penderghast's demolition team and he hasn't taken it rather well.A hired gun (axe) now, his entire existence is dedicated towards destroying The killer of his world.
Here is a picture of them fighting. It's a draft and needs some changes, especially Penderghast's hair which is going the wrong way.
Less buttons, more strings!
The last pop song I remember liking is Schitzo by Iscream and the chocolate stix. It is named after a personality disorder because it has a personality disorder: It is hip hop, pop and rock with a thumping base line (thumping; this means it was created by a guitar, not a computer). It has a dubstep breakdown and a guitar solo at the same time. I like that a lot. So I heard the song a few times before I stopped listening to the radio altogether - I live on mp3s nowadays, South African radio just doesn't tickle my fancy anymore.
So when I heard these guys were playing at my favourite club, Live, I just had to go and see, because I think they're onto something.
And they are. They have a face man called chocolate stix - brilliant stage nad offstage personality and an good rapper. They have another rapper too: Iscream (now the name makes sense). He's a fairly ratty-looking stoner who bounces off his partner quite well. I think he's the talent from the way he explained all their songs. There's also a guitarist, a bassist and a guy with a mac, because acapella just doesn't cut it in the world of pop.
So yes, they're onto something: they've discovered that the future of music lies not just in strings or in computer-generated noise but rather in the bringing together of these two things. They've discovered balance, but they're still standing two far left on the scale.
They have too much Macbook in too many of their songs. They have a fantastic guitarist and a brilliant bass player and they need to make use of them more often; they need to get schitzo. I think if they bear this in mind while completing the face of a rolling stone it could be their best song. They played an acoustic snippet of that song and it sounded amazing. It sounded amazing because when you rap over a guitar you're being different and different is how you succeed nowadays.
What I'm really saying is that they make very good dance music, very good pop, but they have the means to make so much more than that, they really do. They have the ability to bring about a change in music either by being the band that changes things or by inspiring that band, because in a world where someone has already thought of everything, the best ideas are found in the blender.
So when I heard these guys were playing at my favourite club, Live, I just had to go and see, because I think they're onto something.
And they are. They have a face man called chocolate stix - brilliant stage nad offstage personality and an good rapper. They have another rapper too: Iscream (now the name makes sense). He's a fairly ratty-looking stoner who bounces off his partner quite well. I think he's the talent from the way he explained all their songs. There's also a guitarist, a bassist and a guy with a mac, because acapella just doesn't cut it in the world of pop.
So yes, they're onto something: they've discovered that the future of music lies not just in strings or in computer-generated noise but rather in the bringing together of these two things. They've discovered balance, but they're still standing two far left on the scale.
They have too much Macbook in too many of their songs. They have a fantastic guitarist and a brilliant bass player and they need to make use of them more often; they need to get schitzo. I think if they bear this in mind while completing the face of a rolling stone it could be their best song. They played an acoustic snippet of that song and it sounded amazing. It sounded amazing because when you rap over a guitar you're being different and different is how you succeed nowadays.
What I'm really saying is that they make very good dance music, very good pop, but they have the means to make so much more than that, they really do. They have the ability to bring about a change in music either by being the band that changes things or by inspiring that band, because in a world where someone has already thought of everything, the best ideas are found in the blender.
Wednesday 4 July 2012
Byeee we've left you NOTHING
Today the rest of my family left to go on holiday. I decided to stay behind because I have stuff to do - a play and an art course, more about those some other post - and I don't like the surfer's paradise where they're going that much anyway.
So they left. They got in the car with all their stuff and they left. They woke me up at 6 o' clock when they did this just to make 100 hundred per cent sure I wouldn't oversleep. That was a good idea actually but as a result I had 3 hours to do nothing before I finally went down to my art thing at 9.
It was amazing, though, I showered and watched some Eddie izzard and read a bit and did some drawing and facebook and such. It was the laziest morning I have ever had, I should do it more often.
But then my stomach started snarling at me and pulled me into the kitchen for food. "I'll make some eggs," I thought, "I'll have a peanut butter sandwhich, maybe some cereal." I walked over to the fridge, flung open the door and...
It was empty! Nothing, nada, niks, qanda, a vaccuum of food! I rooted around in the vegetable tray for a bit and found a dead apple or two. There was a bit of juice, true, but no milk, no jam, no cheese, nothing edible! Eventually I toasted a bit of bread and smeared it with the thinnest layer of letover peanut butter. It wasn't much but it did seem to last.
So yes, I can understand that you may need a fair amount of food on a twelve hour drive but please leave me some next time. I have a stomach too!
So they left. They got in the car with all their stuff and they left. They woke me up at 6 o' clock when they did this just to make 100 hundred per cent sure I wouldn't oversleep. That was a good idea actually but as a result I had 3 hours to do nothing before I finally went down to my art thing at 9.
It was amazing, though, I showered and watched some Eddie izzard and read a bit and did some drawing and facebook and such. It was the laziest morning I have ever had, I should do it more often.
But then my stomach started snarling at me and pulled me into the kitchen for food. "I'll make some eggs," I thought, "I'll have a peanut butter sandwhich, maybe some cereal." I walked over to the fridge, flung open the door and...
So yes, I can understand that you may need a fair amount of food on a twelve hour drive but please leave me some next time. I have a stomach too!
Monday 2 July 2012
Durban is boring, I'm going to hunt pirates
This was the sentiment of my uncle - looking a lot like a pirate himself - about the latest pursuit of his boating carreer. He is a freelance captain, or something like that, hired by the rich and infamous for anything between smuggling people out of Dubai to taking them on leisurely travels to the Carribean or Madagasgar, home of the famous lemur, that alcoholic, nicotene addicted "cross between a cat, a dog and a monkey with the nature of a dolphin."
He is a man with as many stories as there are hairs on his head (and there are a lot of those) and this next venture is set to be right up there with the time he got thrown in a Pakistani prison or the time a 94 year old woman warned him not to grow old. His job entails travelling to Madagasgar where he will
and proceed to lead the hunt from the beach whilst looking big and intimidating enough to make sure his recruits get the job done right. So he won't actually be shooting the scurvy bastards but he'll be behind the whole thing.
A sort of eye on the sand if you will.
He is a man with as many stories as there are hairs on his head (and there are a lot of those) and this next venture is set to be right up there with the time he got thrown in a Pakistani prison or the time a 94 year old woman warned him not to grow old. His job entails travelling to Madagasgar where he will
A sort of eye on the sand if you will.
Sunday 1 July 2012
Todays post has no title
As it is the first post in a while, it shall be nameless. Well not really
nameless as its name is a declaration of no name but in spirit and theory it is
pretty nameless. I also redesigned the blog as people - person: I think Weakley
is the only reader here - may have noticed.
So, yeah. I'm listening to Panic at the Disco right now, they're very good on account of being extremely original, which is the only way to be good at anything nowadays: You have to be noticed.
You could be the most amazing accurate guitarist in the world but if your Solos are nothing new you will still somehow fall into mediocrity and although this may be sad for you, I think it is probably a good thing - Doesn't Darwin’s theory of evolution state that for evolution to occur you need to have variation?
It does, I checked. You need Variation, competition, mutations (i.e. mistakes) and random mating. The music industry is much the same: for a genre to grow and evolve it needs to be different (have variation), ideas are developed through mistakes and such (mutations), it needs competition for the best bands to emerge and we'll leave the random mating up to the groupies as I don't feel like making a profound allusion on that regard.
We're currently witnessing the formation of a very strange genre of music I think; it's this currently unnamed electronic stuff that uses both acoustic and electronic instruments, this beautiful Frankenstein’s monster of sound that emerges in the form of Awolnation and Vampire weekend (from which my blog's name stems). If done properly this sort of alternative stuff can work very well. The prospects are good.
I was a steampunk yesterday, it was a lot of fun.
So, yeah. I'm listening to Panic at the Disco right now, they're very good on account of being extremely original, which is the only way to be good at anything nowadays: You have to be noticed.
You could be the most amazing accurate guitarist in the world but if your Solos are nothing new you will still somehow fall into mediocrity and although this may be sad for you, I think it is probably a good thing - Doesn't Darwin’s theory of evolution state that for evolution to occur you need to have variation?
It does, I checked. You need Variation, competition, mutations (i.e. mistakes) and random mating. The music industry is much the same: for a genre to grow and evolve it needs to be different (have variation), ideas are developed through mistakes and such (mutations), it needs competition for the best bands to emerge and we'll leave the random mating up to the groupies as I don't feel like making a profound allusion on that regard.
We're currently witnessing the formation of a very strange genre of music I think; it's this currently unnamed electronic stuff that uses both acoustic and electronic instruments, this beautiful Frankenstein’s monster of sound that emerges in the form of Awolnation and Vampire weekend (from which my blog's name stems). If done properly this sort of alternative stuff can work very well. The prospects are good.
I was a steampunk yesterday, it was a lot of fun.
Friday 22 June 2012
Multitasking the holidays
And now the holidays have begun.
This is a time in which most people sigh in relief, safe in the knowledge that the only writing and reading they shall be doing will be on tiny-screened communication devices, but not me. For me this is a time when I can totally immerse myself in any and all words of my choice.
The holidays are a time when I can choose my own literary intake and am not limited to set-work novels and textbooks chosen by someone I'll never meet because someone told him everyone should have a knowledge of a Shakespearean tragedy or an allegory on Communism and that they should know how plants operate and how this came about. I'm not disputing the work of Orwell or Shakespeare and I'm not saying that auxins and evolution do not interest me, I'm just stating that had I a choice these would not be the topics I'd look into at the moment
For the next few weeks my reading material shall consist of an old book on Living fossils, 2 Bond novels and The Sign of Four, a Sherlock Holmes tale. I shall, of course be reading them all at the same time.
In fact all four of the novels will be lying open on my bed alongside my ancient Dell laptop, a copy of popular mechanics, my 4 notebooks (Manuscript for novel, ideas for novel, non-novel stuff and pocket book), my sketchbook and probably a discarded banana peel whenever I am awake. When I am not awake my things shall be relocated to the floor, desk and bedside table in equal measures where they shall stay until I wake up again and they can re-colonise the bed. I also have a bag big enough to fit them all for when I am away from my place of rest. Let it be said here and now that I will not spend any amount of time without a pen, a pencil, a paintbrush and a piece of paper within reach. Exams start soon after these holidays and so there shall be nothing exam themed in them at all.
Thursday 21 June 2012
I never posted that poem
did I? That was rhetorical, I didn't. Here's a poem about death because we're all emo really
Beyond the button
When the square button is pushed what plays next on the
screen?
Does the darkness shine on for eternity or
Does a switched off movie play on evermore
Do the righteous become blockbusters and the wicked
Is there a place where films go post pause or does the
ending notice flash for all to see evermore?
When the whistle blows and the players retire
Is the game born again or does the pitch remain always
barren
Do the players walk out for a rematch, for a chance to
right the wrongs they left unrighted
To fix the mistakes that left them wanting before
The bell goes and pens drop to the paper
The bell goes and men retreat to the corners
Is there a retry?
A round beyond the round
A test beyond the test
The sequel is hidden from our view
Endings are just beginnings in reverse
Sunday 17 June 2012
The Story of Adolf Hitler is a Shakespearean tragedy
A tragedy is a very specific branch of Shakespearean literature. It requires a number of things to happen, including a fair amount of death and the hero of the play has to be a tragic hero; one who is likable and has many positive qualities but is also governed by a fatal flaw that ultimately leads to their demise and sets the closing scenes of the tradegy into motion.
Othello, for example was a decorated war hero, well liked by the people of Venice. He had found himself a beautiful wife whom he loved despite her father's wishes. His one weakness was his jealousy and it was this that lead to him being tricked by his ancient into killing his wife and himself one evening.
Hitler was also a decorated war hero well liked by the people of Germany. He found himself a good spot in the German government despite the wishes of the Jewish socialists. His weakness was the dislike of said Jews and this lead to him being hated by the world at large and allegedly killing himself in a bunker one evening.
So yes Hitler at the beginning of his story was very likable; he was a boy from a middle class family who was a true patriot. He had stood up for his beliefs in the great war and had spoken strongly against beliefs he didn't believe in. People liked him and that is the first mark of a tragic hero. He had a flaw which is the second mark and he died in the end; the third mark.
Yes, you might tell me, but these are stories. There are no real tragic heroes. You'd be wrong of course: Julius Ceasar was both a real person and the star of Shakespearean tragedy. So were Anthony and Cleopatra. If they could be tragic heroes then why not Hitler?
I like the tale of Adolf Hitler a lot as the hero is probably the most spectacularly human person of all times: He was creative, bright but far too destructive. Potentially a good man but ultimately evil. It sums up our civilization in such an amazing way if you think about it. Here we are, apex predator of the world, the only creature with such a thing as a civilization but we're screwing everything up with our predisposition toward violence. That, however, is a story for another day. Here is a picture I drew for a friend of mine, the caption means "'Top hats' make everything better." It is naturally in German.
Othello, for example was a decorated war hero, well liked by the people of Venice. He had found himself a beautiful wife whom he loved despite her father's wishes. His one weakness was his jealousy and it was this that lead to him being tricked by his ancient into killing his wife and himself one evening.
Hitler was also a decorated war hero well liked by the people of Germany. He found himself a good spot in the German government despite the wishes of the Jewish socialists. His weakness was the dislike of said Jews and this lead to him being hated by the world at large and allegedly killing himself in a bunker one evening.
So yes Hitler at the beginning of his story was very likable; he was a boy from a middle class family who was a true patriot. He had stood up for his beliefs in the great war and had spoken strongly against beliefs he didn't believe in. People liked him and that is the first mark of a tragic hero. He had a flaw which is the second mark and he died in the end; the third mark.
Yes, you might tell me, but these are stories. There are no real tragic heroes. You'd be wrong of course: Julius Ceasar was both a real person and the star of Shakespearean tragedy. So were Anthony and Cleopatra. If they could be tragic heroes then why not Hitler?
I like the tale of Adolf Hitler a lot as the hero is probably the most spectacularly human person of all times: He was creative, bright but far too destructive. Potentially a good man but ultimately evil. It sums up our civilization in such an amazing way if you think about it. Here we are, apex predator of the world, the only creature with such a thing as a civilization but we're screwing everything up with our predisposition toward violence. That, however, is a story for another day. Here is a picture I drew for a friend of mine, the caption means "'Top hats' make everything better." It is naturally in German.
I am the beast
ing. It draws a comparison between this situation and the way some of us feel after a night out drinking, about how we enjoy losing our inhibitions
I
am the Beast
“Phil are you ok?” a
voice called from the next room.
No, he wasn’t ok. He
clutched his head, grabbing onto the table; memories of the previous night
slowly surfacing in his mind. He grinned a bloody smile; what a night that was…
He entertained a
flashback of himself as the beast as he raced through the woods, powerful
muscles working his legs at a lightning pace, his nose guiding the way, his
mind given over to blissful, feral instinct. He saw himself leap over a fallen
trunk and round the corner in a ball of fury and hunger, saliva flying from his
mouth. He saw the doe as the shock passed over her face and he relived the rush
as he sunk his teeth into her warm body.
He stumbled into the
kitchen, eyes glistening with the memories, grabbed two bottles of water from
the fridge and went looking for Shauna. He found her in the bedroom, sitting up
in the bed, wearing his filthy shirt from last night – ripped and stretched to
compensate for his enlarged body her face painted with exhaustion and dirt. She
smiled at him as he tossed her a bottle of water, “You ok?” She asked again.
“Yeah I’m ok.” A
flashback of her hunting popped up in his mind, he saw her beautiful golden fur
glisten in the moonlight as she ripped the jugular from the throat of one of
her victims. The blood flecks were still on her lips, it was beautiful. I
crawled in next to her and kissed her, savouring the taste. We would have to
get up soon, we had responsibilities to take care of, errands to run. We had to
return to the mundane for the day…
But not tonight.
Tonight we would let go again, shed the petty cloaks we wore for society and
embrace that which lay underneath. Our eyes drifted longingly up to the sky,
fixing on the point where the full moon normally hung.
Wednesday 13 June 2012
Street theater and James Bond
Today's blog will just be a stream of words flowing from my fingertips. It shall be an account of things I am thinking of, which are few and far between really.
Lets talk first about drama, lets talk about a play. I'm in a play; a school production. I'm not singing and I''m quite glad. I'll sing loudly in the streets but not on a stage, its the focus of a thousand audience members that puts me off I think. There are people who take the singing part very seriously though; take for instance the girl who buried her head in her friends shoulder, devastated by the tiny hiccup she had made in the first chorus of break even, or the other girl who asked the rest of the auditionees for a beat to help her with her song. Why are you so self-conscious people? Why can't you just act?
I personally believe that performance is about looking silly. I believe that you should make a fool of yourself in order to reach the next level. Guys wear a dress, girls where a mustache. Do something you think you can't and find yourself leaving the stage dumbstruck by your own performance. I randomly break out into monologues or scenes from movies.. It is the kind of acting I love to do, not just stage acting. That's why I was dumbfounded today when someone at the auditions told me it was imperative they got in. They claimed they needed it to fuel their need to act. I responded by doing a rendition of Eddy Izzard's the tyranny of ducks from his show Glorious and promptly walked away leaving them in a sate of deep confusion. Acting can and must happen everywhere. That is why I am taking my house play cast to a mall in full costume and character. It shall be the best absurdist mall trip ever.
This brings me to James Bond, more specifically Jeffrey Deaver's new Bond novel which is a little odd really. It is a bond novel set in modern times and once you get used to Bond's iPhone (modified by Q of course) and the fact that his E-type jaguar is a vintage it can be quite fun.
This is a lot like street theater in that it shows that something classic and well loved is appropriate in every circumstance. I'm pondering the idea of writing a steampunk Bond short story just to illustrate this point. James Bond's Heroics and womanizing is as appropriate now as it was in the sixties, perhaps even more so. In a world of scandals and raw sexuality where has this hero been? I am yet to read of Bond ordering his classic Martini but I am told that his most common drink is actually single malt whiskey so I guess that's alright.
So never feel like a fish out of water; the whole world is an ocean and whatever your gills are make sure you're getting enough oxygen.
Lets talk first about drama, lets talk about a play. I'm in a play; a school production. I'm not singing and I''m quite glad. I'll sing loudly in the streets but not on a stage, its the focus of a thousand audience members that puts me off I think. There are people who take the singing part very seriously though; take for instance the girl who buried her head in her friends shoulder, devastated by the tiny hiccup she had made in the first chorus of break even, or the other girl who asked the rest of the auditionees for a beat to help her with her song. Why are you so self-conscious people? Why can't you just act?
I personally believe that performance is about looking silly. I believe that you should make a fool of yourself in order to reach the next level. Guys wear a dress, girls where a mustache. Do something you think you can't and find yourself leaving the stage dumbstruck by your own performance. I randomly break out into monologues or scenes from movies.. It is the kind of acting I love to do, not just stage acting. That's why I was dumbfounded today when someone at the auditions told me it was imperative they got in. They claimed they needed it to fuel their need to act. I responded by doing a rendition of Eddy Izzard's the tyranny of ducks from his show Glorious and promptly walked away leaving them in a sate of deep confusion. Acting can and must happen everywhere. That is why I am taking my house play cast to a mall in full costume and character. It shall be the best absurdist mall trip ever.
This brings me to James Bond, more specifically Jeffrey Deaver's new Bond novel which is a little odd really. It is a bond novel set in modern times and once you get used to Bond's iPhone (modified by Q of course) and the fact that his E-type jaguar is a vintage it can be quite fun.
This is a lot like street theater in that it shows that something classic and well loved is appropriate in every circumstance. I'm pondering the idea of writing a steampunk Bond short story just to illustrate this point. James Bond's Heroics and womanizing is as appropriate now as it was in the sixties, perhaps even more so. In a world of scandals and raw sexuality where has this hero been? I am yet to read of Bond ordering his classic Martini but I am told that his most common drink is actually single malt whiskey so I guess that's alright.
So never feel like a fish out of water; the whole world is an ocean and whatever your gills are make sure you're getting enough oxygen.
Monday 11 June 2012
An irregular blog
So my plan to start a regular blog has already failed and this is a shame really. Perhaps, though, an irregular blog would be more like it, more the sort of thing I would write. Perhaps I should talk about the migratory pattern of cubes or the rainfall in the general area of my mind just to break from the norm of blogging and of bloggers.
At least my blog is not just a picture dumping ground, it does have that little uniqueness.
I'm a poet though and maybe my next post will be a poem of mine, that could be fun.
Here are some links of sites I like, webcomics all of them
Xkcd
Scary go round
Poorly drawn lines
Oh also this is the last post I write before I share this blog on facebook for the first time...
At least my blog is not just a picture dumping ground, it does have that little uniqueness.
I'm a poet though and maybe my next post will be a poem of mine, that could be fun.
Here are some links of sites I like, webcomics all of them
Xkcd
Scary go round
Poorly drawn lines
Oh also this is the last post I write before I share this blog on facebook for the first time...
Wednesday 16 May 2012
Colours
I don't have a favourite colour; I don't think its fair on the other colours to be left behind frolicking in their despair while my favourite colour gets picked everytime to be worn on shirts or for phones or or or hats. Colours nhave a hard job making the world look pretty as it is. They don't need you coming along and telling them that one of them is better than all the others. That red is the king colour in your universe or that in your mind the colour spectrum should just be varying shades of blue getting deeper and deeper to infinity and beyond. Purple is Just the two of them mixed together and green is the colour you pick whilst staring at a tree, trying to pick a colour. People who say white are having you on and black-lovers just want to be left alone with their cigarette. So yes, favoritizing colours is boring and pointless and each year millions of animal species become extinct because no-one likes them.
This was a rant.
Thank you
This was a rant.
Thank you
Tuesday 15 May 2012
What do you want from me?
I was on what used to be 9gag today but has now just become a wasteland of barely entertaining pictures. Seriously the humour of "Gaggers" has dropped substancially, it seems to have become a hotbed of insecurity and lust. Also every second post is about the avengers or Diablo 3. I am, however, going off on a tangent and missing the point of this post.
The point of this post is to alert your attention to this picture I found there; the only worthwhile picture on the once-hot page today. Voila!
I'm a huge Pink floyd fan, in fact the Division Bell is playing as I type. I wish I had lived in their era, that I could've seen one of those amazing performances but alas I have only Mp3s and Videos to show me their brilliance. There are other bands, current bands. I love Rise against and I think a My Chemical Romance show would be a massive treat. One day my feet will bring me to the gates of one of these but untill then I'll have to keep playing my CDs and my DVDs
Goodbye cruel world, there's nothing I can say.
Goodbye, Goodbye
Goodbye
The point of this post is to alert your attention to this picture I found there; the only worthwhile picture on the once-hot page today. Voila!
Goodbye cruel world, there's nothing I can say.
Goodbye, Goodbye
Goodbye
The first post
The first post of a blog is supposed to be something special, somewhat of a big bang to the universe of words and links and such that will soon be filling up this page. perhaps it should be witty or informative. Most definitely it should give one an idea of what is to follow in the posts hereafter; let me give that a shot.
This blog is a place for me to dump my thoughts onto the internet. There will be ideas, there will be poems. There might even be a few rants, rants are healthy. I think the contents of my minds, my little notebooks, will be posted on here too. Not the entire contents of course - the personal stuff need not be displayed - but the other, more general things why not? Maybe the second post will have the first of these in it.
So yes; thoughts, poems, rants - oh and music, lots of music. I don't play an instrument myself but I do enjoy listening to other people do that. I also enjoy acting like I'm a critic and expressing my inexpert opinion on how well or badly those people play their instruments. Right I think that's enough for a first post. Stay tuned for the second post is next
This blog is a place for me to dump my thoughts onto the internet. There will be ideas, there will be poems. There might even be a few rants, rants are healthy. I think the contents of my minds, my little notebooks, will be posted on here too. Not the entire contents of course - the personal stuff need not be displayed - but the other, more general things why not? Maybe the second post will have the first of these in it.
So yes; thoughts, poems, rants - oh and music, lots of music. I don't play an instrument myself but I do enjoy listening to other people do that. I also enjoy acting like I'm a critic and expressing my inexpert opinion on how well or badly those people play their instruments. Right I think that's enough for a first post. Stay tuned for the second post is next
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