The Little Eyes Meet The Freindly Star-Nosed Mole
A new comic strip by me.
Saturday, June 15, 2002
Friday, June 14, 2002
Thursday, June 13, 2002
Warren Ellis fed my cat acid- and taught it to SING!!!
He did, y'know.
(Conceptripped off of inspired by fridgemagnet.)
He did, y'know.
(Concept
Fight.
You know what I hate (apart from you, that is)? People who start arguments deliberately for no reason. I'm not talking about someone with a favourite hobby-horse that they can't keep from jumping on, or a particular bee in their bonnet that they can't stop from buzzing- I'm talking about people who will just argue about anything, regardless of whether they actually espouse the position they are taking. People who think saying "I like Vic Reeves" is in some way controversial.
It's so pathetic. I seem to keep meeting them; individuals who feel it is incumbent upon them, should the world at large say "sh*te", to say "sugar". I participated in an online discussion some months back where this very subject was raised, and was informed by one of the participants that we should all "worship these guys [argument fetishists] as gods".
Why? Why is that so goddamn clever? Since when is being a windup merchant something to be proud of?
Oh yeah. I forgot! Until you came along everyone else was is this big bland glass of passivity and complacence, and we all need your arguey goodness so we can start fizzing. Otherwise we'd just trundle along with the rest of the Mindless Herd™, wouldn't we, the hearts nestled in our doughy little chests untroubled by any strong emotion, our minds unstretched by any question more demanding than whether to get the pink glitter nail-polish or the blue glitter nail-polish, whether to shovel down frozen pizza or the tinned macaroni cheese as we sit like the slack-jawed fools we all are in front of Robot Wars, one with the soft furnishings....
Well, actually, no we wouldn't. To quote Harlan Ellison (and yes, I know I am unfit to take his name in vain- don't get all narkey, think of it like Xtians quoting Jesus) I wake up angry and I go to bed angrier. Sometimes I'm so angry I feel like I'm going to go into meltdown just from watching a five-minute news bulleitin. Look at all those other supposedly stolid, cud-chewing doombrains that you think need winding up- HER husband is dying of asbestosis! HIS dad puts out cigarettes on his arm! SHE campagains for a radical political group! HE'S trying to raise money for his daughter's leukamia treatment! Where, in all of this, do they need you? Do you think they aren't angry?
I don't need your pathetic stirring to make me more angry, and neither does anyone else. You want to fight and squabble pointlessly over positions you don't even hold? Join a debating society. Or go and play Tekken. Do anything, but get over yourself.
You know what I hate (apart from you, that is)? People who start arguments deliberately for no reason. I'm not talking about someone with a favourite hobby-horse that they can't keep from jumping on, or a particular bee in their bonnet that they can't stop from buzzing- I'm talking about people who will just argue about anything, regardless of whether they actually espouse the position they are taking. People who think saying "I like Vic Reeves" is in some way controversial.
It's so pathetic. I seem to keep meeting them; individuals who feel it is incumbent upon them, should the world at large say "sh*te", to say "sugar". I participated in an online discussion some months back where this very subject was raised, and was informed by one of the participants that we should all "worship these guys [argument fetishists] as gods".
Why? Why is that so goddamn clever? Since when is being a windup merchant something to be proud of?
Oh yeah. I forgot! Until you came along everyone else was is this big bland glass of passivity and complacence, and we all need your arguey goodness so we can start fizzing. Otherwise we'd just trundle along with the rest of the Mindless Herd™, wouldn't we, the hearts nestled in our doughy little chests untroubled by any strong emotion, our minds unstretched by any question more demanding than whether to get the pink glitter nail-polish or the blue glitter nail-polish, whether to shovel down frozen pizza or the tinned macaroni cheese as we sit like the slack-jawed fools we all are in front of Robot Wars, one with the soft furnishings....
Well, actually, no we wouldn't. To quote Harlan Ellison (and yes, I know I am unfit to take his name in vain- don't get all narkey, think of it like Xtians quoting Jesus) I wake up angry and I go to bed angrier. Sometimes I'm so angry I feel like I'm going to go into meltdown just from watching a five-minute news bulleitin. Look at all those other supposedly stolid, cud-chewing doombrains that you think need winding up- HER husband is dying of asbestosis! HIS dad puts out cigarettes on his arm! SHE campagains for a radical political group! HE'S trying to raise money for his daughter's leukamia treatment! Where, in all of this, do they need you? Do you think they aren't angry?
I don't need your pathetic stirring to make me more angry, and neither does anyone else. You want to fight and squabble pointlessly over positions you don't even hold? Join a debating society. Or go and play Tekken. Do anything, but get over yourself.
Wednesday, June 12, 2002
The end of the beginning of the end?
Stayed up till stupid o'clock last night, watching The Godfather with my pard'ner, drinking various types of booze and eating halloumi. Which was nice.
Then today I went in to what should have been my final year project viva and fessed up about jacking in the course. They were actually pretty nice about it (once I managed to get a word in edgeways). All I have to do now is email my course leader and hand in the paperwork, then I'm free. FREE!!!
I had a quiet day today. I've put the detective yarn on the back burner coz I need to do some research for it, and started on a less demanding yarn about a computer game. All I need now is a temp job so I can start making a dent in my overdraft.
I suspect this might turn out to be one of the best decisions I've ever made.
Stayed up till stupid o'clock last night, watching The Godfather with my pard'ner, drinking various types of booze and eating halloumi. Which was nice.
Then today I went in to what should have been my final year project viva and fessed up about jacking in the course. They were actually pretty nice about it (once I managed to get a word in edgeways). All I have to do now is email my course leader and hand in the paperwork, then I'm free. FREE!!!
I had a quiet day today. I've put the detective yarn on the back burner coz I need to do some research for it, and started on a less demanding yarn about a computer game. All I need now is a temp job so I can start making a dent in my overdraft.
I suspect this might turn out to be one of the best decisions I've ever made.
Monday, June 10, 2002
The beginning of the end
Today I went into Uni, to check my in-tray and find out when the dean of students will be around next so I can tell him what my plans are and find out where I stand credit-wise. After the end of this week, I suppose I won't be going back. It's not like I'm graduating or anything.
Students were standing around in twos and threes, snapping photos and taking each other's phone numbers. I guess I should have felt some sort of regretful, nostalgic something-or-other, but all I feel is relieved. If I never have to set foot inside that converted fish-packing plant that masquerades as a campus again it will be too soon. Just the sight of that manky aluminium facade hoving into view between the trees is enough to fill me with a near-crippling sense of gloom. I've been pretty careful about what I say here, because there's a slim chance that somebody at Uni could find this blog and get shirty, but I'm pretty sick about some of the stuff that's gone on while I've been there.
My weekend was pretty productive, tho' I didn't get around to updating this sucker. I'm about a quarter of the way through my current story (a sort of detective/horror yarn), and I added a few links to The Exchange. I also read through a couple of webzines that I reckon I could persuade to accept some of my stuff. It's funny just how productive I've suddenly become since I made the decision to jack in my degree- sort of like being 17 again. Hope it lasts.
Today I went into Uni, to check my in-tray and find out when the dean of students will be around next so I can tell him what my plans are and find out where I stand credit-wise. After the end of this week, I suppose I won't be going back. It's not like I'm graduating or anything.
Students were standing around in twos and threes, snapping photos and taking each other's phone numbers. I guess I should have felt some sort of regretful, nostalgic something-or-other, but all I feel is relieved. If I never have to set foot inside that converted fish-packing plant that masquerades as a campus again it will be too soon. Just the sight of that manky aluminium facade hoving into view between the trees is enough to fill me with a near-crippling sense of gloom. I've been pretty careful about what I say here, because there's a slim chance that somebody at Uni could find this blog and get shirty, but I'm pretty sick about some of the stuff that's gone on while I've been there.
My weekend was pretty productive, tho' I didn't get around to updating this sucker. I'm about a quarter of the way through my current story (a sort of detective/horror yarn), and I added a few links to The Exchange. I also read through a couple of webzines that I reckon I could persuade to accept some of my stuff. It's funny just how productive I've suddenly become since I made the decision to jack in my degree- sort of like being 17 again. Hope it lasts.
Friday, June 07, 2002
The Exchange
I've started another blog, called The Exchange. It's my attempt to collate all my writing-related bookmarks into some kind of useful resource. There's not much there at the moment, but I'll be adding stuff to it on and off. You can find it here.
I've started another blog, called The Exchange. It's my attempt to collate all my writing-related bookmarks into some kind of useful resource. There's not much there at the moment, but I'll be adding stuff to it on and off. You can find it here.
w00t!!!
Oh wow oh wow oh wow. Just discovered this ace quiz tutorial. It's by Colleen Logan.
(Those of you who know me well can stop groaning and rolling your eyes. I promise not to make too many.)
Even better, one of my online mukkers posted this yesterday- feast your eyes on Fantod. I'm all over Gorey's stuff, me. I had this fantastic pop-up book when I was a kid called "The Dwindling Party", which was all about this family touring a huge stately home and getting picked off one by one by various monsters. It rocked.
Oh wow oh wow oh wow. Just discovered this ace quiz tutorial. It's by Colleen Logan.
(Those of you who know me well can stop groaning and rolling your eyes. I promise not to make too many.)
Even better, one of my online mukkers posted this yesterday- feast your eyes on Fantod. I'm all over Gorey's stuff, me. I had this fantastic pop-up book when I was a kid called "The Dwindling Party", which was all about this family touring a huge stately home and getting picked off one by one by various monsters. It rocked.
Thursday, June 06, 2002
Why are you DOING this?!
Gawd 'elp us, look at the state of you! You've surfed in here looking for pix of people with all their guts hanging out so you can see or whatever, and now you're going to sit and read through the archive, aren't you? You're actually going to sit and thumb thru six or seven pages of a total stranger's blog, just in case I've hidden a picture of a run-over dog or something in there. For the last time, there are no gruesome pix here! (Unless you count the colour-reversed detail from The Hands Resist Him adorning my sidebar.) Now, run along back to twitchingmammaries.com or whatever. And stop dropping crumbs on that keyboard!
Gawd 'elp us, look at the state of you! You've surfed in here looking for pix of people with all their guts hanging out so you can see or whatever, and now you're going to sit and read through the archive, aren't you? You're actually going to sit and thumb thru six or seven pages of a total stranger's blog, just in case I've hidden a picture of a run-over dog or something in there. For the last time, there are no gruesome pix here! (Unless you count the colour-reversed detail from The Hands Resist Him adorning my sidebar.) Now, run along back to twitchingmammaries.com or whatever. And stop dropping crumbs on that keyboard!
Wednesday, June 05, 2002
Okay, now this is seriously weird.
Awhile back, I agreed to participate in the Peer-to-Peer weblog review project. Months passed and I never heard anything more about it, so I assumed that I was rejected or just never contacted.
Then the other day, I did that lameoid thing of typing your name into Google to see what turns up. Amongst other things, I found this.
Now, take a look at entry number 13. That's my name, but this is definately not my blog. I don't know why it's under my name; perchance a coincidence, perchance a bit of a screwup, but I thank the mighty forces of sychronicity that brought it to my attention.
The journal is called "My Patch", and it's astounding. Go read. It is wondrous.
Awhile back, I agreed to participate in the Peer-to-Peer weblog review project. Months passed and I never heard anything more about it, so I assumed that I was rejected or just never contacted.
Then the other day, I did that lameoid thing of typing your name into Google to see what turns up. Amongst other things, I found this.
Now, take a look at entry number 13. That's my name, but this is definately not my blog. I don't know why it's under my name; perchance a coincidence, perchance a bit of a screwup, but I thank the mighty forces of sychronicity that brought it to my attention.
The journal is called "My Patch", and it's astounding. Go read. It is wondrous.
Bugger.
Got the verdict on my report today. Apparently it really was bullshit. Oh well.
Apart from the fact that I'm sorry to disappoint anyone, I'm having an increasingly hard time caring. What I was planning to do was make up the missing units over at the Uni's writing dept., but that's going to be a total pain- especially if my pard'ner (Brain to my Pinky) ends up in Barcalona or summat.
No, what I reckon I'll do is pick up whatever bit of paper my Uni is prepared to offer and sign up with the OU. It'll take longer and cost more, but frankly this has been on the cards all the way down the line. Us foundation-year yobbos never usually graduate at all; my getting this far is still one in the eye for a lot of people. I'm a bit miz, of course, but not gutted.
'Specially since I might get to go to Barca.
Got the verdict on my report today. Apparently it really was bullshit. Oh well.
Apart from the fact that I'm sorry to disappoint anyone, I'm having an increasingly hard time caring. What I was planning to do was make up the missing units over at the Uni's writing dept., but that's going to be a total pain- especially if my pard'ner (Brain to my Pinky) ends up in Barcalona or summat.
No, what I reckon I'll do is pick up whatever bit of paper my Uni is prepared to offer and sign up with the OU. It'll take longer and cost more, but frankly this has been on the cards all the way down the line. Us foundation-year yobbos never usually graduate at all; my getting this far is still one in the eye for a lot of people. I'm a bit miz, of course, but not gutted.
'Specially since I might get to go to Barca.
Tuesday, June 04, 2002
Pix
Another day, another dose of weirdness from my site stats. Since you've surfed on in on your wave of prurience and stupidity, i'll give you a little piece of advice:
Learn to use a search engine.
Now, most people at this point would start casting aspersions on the reader's intelligence. The word "moron" might be bandied around, as might the word "cretin". Phrases such as "manure-filled, brick-thick, impenetrable cranium" tend to creep into the conversation. I make no such accusations; for all I know you're an enormous genius who looks down on Mensa with the sort of indulgent, fond amusement usually reserved for a box of stupid yet entertaining puppies. Be that as it may, you're a genuis who can't use a search engine.
Most of you have come here looking for pictures, right? Mostly pictures of dead dogs or fallout victims, true, but that's entirely your concern. And most of you have used Google, yes? Good for you. Now, do you see the little tag on the Google search page, marked "image" ? You do? Good! Now, what do you suppose that does? That's right- it searches for images! Well done!
So now you know what to do, you can stop typing "photos" into the search engine, can't you? Let alone "pix". Yes, some of you actually type the word "pix" into a bloody search engine and expect to be rewarded with photographs.
I hate you.
Another day, another dose of weirdness from my site stats. Since you've surfed on in on your wave of prurience and stupidity, i'll give you a little piece of advice:
Learn to use a search engine.
Now, most people at this point would start casting aspersions on the reader's intelligence. The word "moron" might be bandied around, as might the word "cretin". Phrases such as "manure-filled, brick-thick, impenetrable cranium" tend to creep into the conversation. I make no such accusations; for all I know you're an enormous genius who looks down on Mensa with the sort of indulgent, fond amusement usually reserved for a box of stupid yet entertaining puppies. Be that as it may, you're a genuis who can't use a search engine.
Most of you have come here looking for pictures, right? Mostly pictures of dead dogs or fallout victims, true, but that's entirely your concern. And most of you have used Google, yes? Good for you. Now, do you see the little tag on the Google search page, marked "image" ? You do? Good! Now, what do you suppose that does? That's right- it searches for images! Well done!
So now you know what to do, you can stop typing "photos" into the search engine, can't you? Let alone "pix". Yes, some of you actually type the word "pix" into a bloody search engine and expect to be rewarded with photographs.
I hate you.
I actually sold my first story a couple of days ago. I'm well chuffed. Okay, it was only £20 from a webzine but it's a start; I've had stuff printed in loads of places (mostly crappy little photocopied fanzines that ran for 3 issues and were never seen again) but this is the first time anyone's actually offered me actual money for a story. I guess I just never took writing seriously enough before- it was always silly little Mordant's silly little hobby. Now I've decided to do this for a living things are coming together.
Monday, June 03, 2002
Oh, well.
Lessee: We gots footie, we gots jubilee. Two flavours of windbag, while the world creeps closer and closer to NUCLEAR WAR, and guess which one is on the front of the papers? That's right. And who chooses what goes on the front of the papers? People who are trying to sell papers to you lot.
Apparently some of you need your bloody priorities adjusting, so I'll explain this in a way you might be able to grasp: A NUCLEAR WAR DOES NOT STAY IN ONE PLACE AND IF YOU'RE DEAD YOU CAN'T WATCH THE FOOTIE OR WAVE AT THE UGLY WOMAN IN THE POSH FROCK OR GOOGLE FOR BOOBIES AND DEAD DOGS.
Get it? No, of course you bloody don't. You think you're all going to be sat on a hill somewhere, watching the fireworks from afar and laughing whilst eating a burger and groping a model, because you are Hard And Big And Clever and everyone else is part of the Sheeplike Flock of Common Humanity.
ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Lessee: We gots footie, we gots jubilee. Two flavours of windbag, while the world creeps closer and closer to NUCLEAR WAR, and guess which one is on the front of the papers? That's right. And who chooses what goes on the front of the papers? People who are trying to sell papers to you lot.
Apparently some of you need your bloody priorities adjusting, so I'll explain this in a way you might be able to grasp: A NUCLEAR WAR DOES NOT STAY IN ONE PLACE AND IF YOU'RE DEAD YOU CAN'T WATCH THE FOOTIE OR WAVE AT THE UGLY WOMAN IN THE POSH FROCK OR GOOGLE FOR BOOBIES AND DEAD DOGS.
Get it? No, of course you bloody don't. You think you're all going to be sat on a hill somewhere, watching the fireworks from afar and laughing whilst eating a burger and groping a model, because you are Hard And Big And Clever and everyone else is part of the Sheeplike Flock of Common Humanity.
ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Saturday, June 01, 2002
NO NUKES OVER KASHMIR!
Yes, I know you only came here in your endless quest for model's tits and bloody road traffic accident photos, but please take a mo to pass this on. Thanks.
Hello,
I'm really concerned about the situation in Kashmir. Please join
me in calling on the leaders of India and Pakistan to cool down.
The conflict is edging ever closer to a nuclear war. A nuclear
exchange between these rival nations could kill 12 million people
and spread radioactive fallout around the globe. Through
MoveOn.org, I'm calling on President Musharraf of Pakistan and
Prime Minister Vajpayee of India to step back from the brink of
holocaust.
You can join us and sign a message from concerned citizens of the
world at:
http://www.moveon.org/nonukesoverkashmir/
Both leaders are currently banging the drums of war. Recently,
Pakistan tested its third missile in as many days, emphasizing
its ability to deliver nukes to the large Indian city Delhi in
under three minutes. Prime Minister Vajpayee told the 700,000
troops stationed along the border of Pakistan that he was
preparing for "a decisive victory."
While India has stated that it will only use its nuclear bombs in
the case of an attack, Pakistan has made clear that it will
strike first if threatened. And there's reason to believe that
it will follow through on this policy: in 1999, such an attack
was narrowly averted, over the protest of then-General Musharraf.
More worrying still, India and Pakistan have broken many of their
diplomatic ties. Unlike the US and the USSR during the Cold War,
India and Pakistan have no direct line connecting the leadership
of each nation. The possibility exists that nukes could be
launched as a result of a mistake, since there's no easy way for
the leadership of one nation to verify the intentions of its
rival. With millions of lives in the balance and weapons on
hair-trigger alert, the lack of communication between the two
countries is just plain wrong.
If India and Pakistan were to go to war, the effects would be
felt around the world. The trade winds above the two countries
are ideally situated to spread nuclear fallout. Essentially
highly radioactive dust, fallout can cause leukemia and many
other kinds of cancer, as well as radiation poisoning.
Assuming either nation survived the attacks, it's unlikely that
the conflict would even be resolved. Instead of pushing their
countries toward Armageddon, Mr. Vajpayee and Mr. Musharraf must
re-establish strong diplomatic ties, disavow the use of nuclear
weapons under any circumstances, and work toward a comprehensive
agreement on the future of Kashmir.
Please let them know that you're concerned about the escalating
conflict today:
http://www.moveon.org/nonukesoverkashmir/
The lives of millions of Indians and Pakistanis could be at
stake.
Thanks.
(I didn't write that, BTW- I just got it in my inbox.)
Yes, I know you only came here in your endless quest for model's tits and bloody road traffic accident photos, but please take a mo to pass this on. Thanks.
Hello,
I'm really concerned about the situation in Kashmir. Please join
me in calling on the leaders of India and Pakistan to cool down.
The conflict is edging ever closer to a nuclear war. A nuclear
exchange between these rival nations could kill 12 million people
and spread radioactive fallout around the globe. Through
MoveOn.org, I'm calling on President Musharraf of Pakistan and
Prime Minister Vajpayee of India to step back from the brink of
holocaust.
You can join us and sign a message from concerned citizens of the
world at:
http://www.moveon.org/nonukesoverkashmir/
Both leaders are currently banging the drums of war. Recently,
Pakistan tested its third missile in as many days, emphasizing
its ability to deliver nukes to the large Indian city Delhi in
under three minutes. Prime Minister Vajpayee told the 700,000
troops stationed along the border of Pakistan that he was
preparing for "a decisive victory."
While India has stated that it will only use its nuclear bombs in
the case of an attack, Pakistan has made clear that it will
strike first if threatened. And there's reason to believe that
it will follow through on this policy: in 1999, such an attack
was narrowly averted, over the protest of then-General Musharraf.
More worrying still, India and Pakistan have broken many of their
diplomatic ties. Unlike the US and the USSR during the Cold War,
India and Pakistan have no direct line connecting the leadership
of each nation. The possibility exists that nukes could be
launched as a result of a mistake, since there's no easy way for
the leadership of one nation to verify the intentions of its
rival. With millions of lives in the balance and weapons on
hair-trigger alert, the lack of communication between the two
countries is just plain wrong.
If India and Pakistan were to go to war, the effects would be
felt around the world. The trade winds above the two countries
are ideally situated to spread nuclear fallout. Essentially
highly radioactive dust, fallout can cause leukemia and many
other kinds of cancer, as well as radiation poisoning.
Assuming either nation survived the attacks, it's unlikely that
the conflict would even be resolved. Instead of pushing their
countries toward Armageddon, Mr. Vajpayee and Mr. Musharraf must
re-establish strong diplomatic ties, disavow the use of nuclear
weapons under any circumstances, and work toward a comprehensive
agreement on the future of Kashmir.
Please let them know that you're concerned about the escalating
conflict today:
http://www.moveon.org/nonukesoverkashmir/
The lives of millions of Indians and Pakistanis could be at
stake.
Thanks.
(I didn't write that, BTW- I just got it in my inbox.)
A slightly less irritable gen-Xer writes
Okay, that last entry was pretty rabid even by my standards. To clarify: I really do think that giving me my own column is a jolly good idea. A column and money. I could do it, and I'd make your magazine look good, in a sullen and resentful kind of way. Permit me to whore out the last days of my latter youth for your readership's amusement. Go on.
Okay, that last entry was pretty rabid even by my standards. To clarify: I really do think that giving me my own column is a jolly good idea. A column and money. I could do it, and I'd make your magazine look good, in a sullen and resentful kind of way. Permit me to whore out the last days of my latter youth for your readership's amusement. Go on.
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