Posts Tagged ‘imagination’

Liberated Negative Space o’ the Day: 19 Man

July 14, 2010

Last year my friendoh’s rad son came up with a superhero who was made out of number 19s and was named, appropriately, “19 Man.” That drawing has been lost to time so he made me a new one.

19 Man has a sidekick and a nemesis who has his own sidekick, and they all have kickass pets. Please click to enlarge and enjoy the awesome creativity. I especially like Mustache Dog — the very combination of the words of his name is something like “cellar door” or “fiddlesticks;” it pleases, yes?

I think I’ll start including some of my daughter’s work in liberated negative space as well. Like Picasso said, “All children are artists. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.”

Goethe Month: the Eternal Feminine, or, “Heaven is a hell of a party.”

July 6, 2010


Alles Vergängliche ist nur ein Gleichnis;
Das Ewig-Weibliche zieht uns hinan.

All that is perishable is but an allegory;
The Eternal Feminine draws us on.


(Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust, Act 5, “Heaven.” Final lines of the play.)

I interpret that to mean this: The things of men’s making that fade and grow dusty and entropically fall into disuse and destroy themselves in time are not to be worried over in their passing because they were never intended as anything but pictures to make us understand the continually Creative beyond that awaits, endlessly pouring out life, when we follow our dead objects to the grave.


Photograph by Michael Demeo.

I have contemplated it for about thirty seconds and I think I really dig this dynamic vision of Heaven suggested in the final lines of Faust. It is more exotic and vibrant than the tired old “flights of angels/peaceful rest” saw, yes? Like you are expecting to alight on some pastel cloud and hear harp-arrangments of soothing Bach chorales while you kick back with a lemonade, and instead someone shoves crazily-bubbling champagne at you, a tall fancy neverending flute for each hand, and the invisible stereo plays only ODE TO JOY, the good part, OVER AND OVER, forever and instead of the pastel cloud you are instantly transported to the front row of an endless big bang!, watching the universe eternally fling fire and stars at itself! for all time.

Turns out heaven is a hell of a party and all your friends are there and your dead pets are live again and in their prime waiting to play whenever you like only they don’t shed anymore and your family all get along great and you can finally tell all the people you liked in your life but never told about your true feelings for fear you’d look like an idiot that you always liked them so much and they are all great with that and like you back and no one is bothered about sharing. And you are holding a sparkler. On a rearing t-rex.

“Fuck, yeah, Heaven!”

“Don’t say words you’re gonna regret”, or, More on the Alan Parsons Project

April 21, 2010

Okay, so I’m still having way too much fun with that idea from the last entry and I’ve been sitting here letting my imagination go wild which is always a dangerous thing but I can’t help myself — here is a sample of “The Alan Parsons Project If That Were Not A Band but Instead the Worst Woodworking Show Ever“:


image via dummbidumbwit right here on the wordpress!

(come in the house) (look at the clock) (shit, The Alan Parsons Project is on right now — you like that show and you pretty much forgot!) (sit down on the sofa and get your knife out) (oh and also a notebook in case you have to scribble down stuff you want to wiki later) (turn on television to public access)

(Alan is talking) (a segment is ending)

“…And once you round off that corner, sand it down — and that’s how you carve a wah-wah pedal from single-source old-growth ash. Later in the show, I’m going to show you how to whittle a wire for that pedal, using a technique similar to the one I pioneered during down time in the production of Dark Side of the Moon. That was neat, wasn’t it, Eric?”

“It was. It really was neat.”

(the theme music) (be right back bump card) (now sad music) (pledge drive commercial. oh, the sick uneducated little children. why won’t you help them? why?) (more sad music) (this is hella terrible) (but you really can’t afford to sponsor a kid for a whole—) (commercial is ending) (thank god)

(information about obtaining a videotaped copy of this episode of the Alan Parsons Project) (should you write that down? maybe you should try and get a copy since you missed the beginn—) (oh shit the theme music) (the show is almost back) (put down the bong and get your knife back out) (wait — bong?) (yes it appears so) (why are you high with a knife?) (yeah that’s probably bad) (maybe put the knife away for now and Just Watch until you come down a little) (that’s better. doritos?) (yes — where?) (on the table) (okay cool) (introductory theme music is ending) (wow that lasted forever) (probably only felt that way) (the show is back now)


via the hepcats on the forum over at the International Cannagraphic magazine. that is some kind of terrific kids’ bubble-blower, amirite!

“Hi. I’m Alan Parsons, and if you’re just joining us, welcome to ‘the Alan Parsons Project’ — where we bring you all the best in prog-woodwork. Again, we’re really excited for you to tune in tonight, and we also look forward to tomorrow’s program, when our guest Robert Fripp will show us how you can carve a looper from rowan bark for your very own Pure Frippertonic pleasure. Won’t that be neat?”

“That sure will be neat.”

“It will. Now, Eric, I understand that tonight you’re going to demonstrate a unique Scottish method of adding decorative scrollwork to a vocoder?”

“Mm, that’s right, Alan. Hello, everyone. Eric Woolfson here. What I’m about to show you is a popular technique in Dundee, but some say it comes from even farther into up-country Scotland. Now, just personally, I like to incorporate human phalluses into all of my decorative scrollwork.”

“You know, I’ve noticed that, Eric!”

“You have? Great! That means a lot to me, Alan, because it’s kind of my private stamp. It’s mainly due to my detrimental obsession with Sigmund Freud which has caused my solo music to suffer significant criticism and has honestly been a setback to the overall arc of my career, but, ha-ha, you know, Alan, every woodworker develops his own unique signature. Why, I know a whittler from Northumberland who likes to cane doll-sized chairs, but to personalize and add an individual touch to each one he does, he …”

And so on. (Nickel in the mail to whoever finishes the Northumberland miniature chair-caner story the best.)

Actually, that spiraled in to a show I might watch. Especially with Doritos. Sober as the grave, OF COURSE.