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Sunday, January 24, 2010

Erudite greyscale comics of a northeastern metropolitan ilk: the artist

Erudite greyscale comics of a northeastern metropolitan ilk: List

Erudite greyscale comics of a northeastern metropolitan ilk: Cat

Fox and friendship

Debate in Animalia

Adapted from something John Adams wrote down one time.

Some Gentlemen

Art I did as a submission to the Beligian Zine:
Lazer Art Zine

Death To New England EP cover art

Shakespeare gag

Science nerd gag

The whole thing is depressing

First few pages of a roughly 15 page story arc.

i like toast, #1

Breakfast, photography, sweater, plains, a bird, enjoy!

Geek Gag

Facsimilie

See what happens when I decide my busy life is too much for one man to handle; the solution? Create a robotic duplicate to pitch in. Enjoy!

The ropeswing

Youth, Summer, Idyllic, Halcyon, Flight, Reality,

People I know

Creationists

Paul's Superb Voyage Thru Time and Space

I drew the first episode of "Paul's Superb Voyage" in the Winter of 1997.
I had just recently begun working in the management office of the
neighborhood mall, and my friend Paul was working a seasonal job in the
electronics department of Caldor while he was back in Connecticut
during winter break from Georgia Tech...

I hate when this happens

The Shopping Trip

Hello! On "Automatic for the People," songbird Stipe sings:"...their world was splat backgrounds and little need to sleep but to dream..." (the lyric may actually be saying "flat," but anyway),fusing the masterwork of the good Doctor Suess with those classically low-brow words of Shakes-his-name. This comic does likewise, mixing a Hamlet-like story arc (including bare bodkins) with backgrounds reminiscent of Jackson Pollock's drop cloth and/or hanky! Anyway, I hope you like it, but be warned it's a weird one. I guess I should mention there are multiple drawings of a nude male monsters, i.e. you will see ding-dongs. Enjoy!

The Diet

I believe it was James A. Garfield, 20th president of the USA, that famously quipped: diet is “die” with a “t” (Although, I’m now thinking it may actually have been uttered by Lincoln’s secretary of war, Les from Funky Winkerbean). At any rate, sociologists now blame this oft-quoted and pithy witticism for the current obesity crisis now plaguing our nation; while others blame the undeniable magnetism of the delicacy first introduced to America as a gift to President Clinton from the Australian ambassador, the Bloomin’ Onion. Regardless, if Jon Q. Arbuckle hadn’t stayed in top shape how could he have escaped the clutches of law-enforcement after fatally shooting the president on July 2, 1881 in Washington D.C.’s Sixth Street Station? In the science of time travel we call this a paradox. By the way I drew a comic about dieting. I hope you like it. They tell me I should mention there are multiple drawings of blue penises. But no one warned me about that very thing before I went into the screening of Watchmen, and that one was taller than me!

The Contact Low

I wrote/drew this 12 page story in 2005 as my submission to the True Porn 2 anthology. It wasn't what they were looking for, maybe it's just what your lonesome heart seeks.

Undiscovered Organisms #1

Of all the weird beasts of the geographically eclectic wonder that is the continental US, perhaps none is stranger than the irascible cryptozoologist. But who can fault these touchy pseudo-scientists? Those new species are hard to come by, the interesting ones at least! Sure there are innumerable unnamed organisms in a pinch of top soil, but those are teeny and boring. Sure, an amoeba can encyst itself to survive the harsh climates of space itself, but can it wash an apple in a puddle before eating it? Can it walk upright like a man? No. It cannot do those things. It is the cryptozoologist’s charge to find the things that do. Even if they don’t actually exist. With the ongoing encroachment of sprawl into our nation’s neither-regions and the destruction and/or cooption (by those anchovy-eating big city developers) of anything that is geographically interesting about the world, the remaining undiscovered brutes must flee or face the hell of mini-malls and homeowner associations. In this comic, the cryptozooligist can finally glimpse some of those beings he desperately seeks: the desert-loving Mitzi with all its stoic majesty, the mucous-nosed Janice of the birch-lands, King Biff of the dirt realm, and the perplexingly optimistic Corey of the buttercup fields. These creatures may soon be gone forever along with the landscapes they inhabit, but this digitized cartoon will last until the network of Pentium-driven servers melt to little puddles of non-degradable crap when the warpigs finally destroy us all with their fell weaponry and subprime mortgages.

Sixteen Organic Shapes

The plastic world of organic structure is indeed a spectacular terror! Look at those twisting viscous constructions, wrought not by the cold crystallization of “old-stick-in-the-mud” non-organic chemistry but by its more dynamic nemesis. Sixteen is, sociologically speaking, the most mystic of magic numbers. It is the age at which a young man or woman first learns the joys of “the open road,” and is the age of consent in many states of our fair republic. But not in Molly Ringwald’s strangest automotive exhaust induced sex dreams did that faded star ever conceive even one of this baker’s dozen plus three clustering of weird wonders!

The Physical

In this special 3-page episode Mykl matches wits with the wily General Practitioner, but who shall have the ultimate upper hand? The learned M.D. has science on his side (as well as the bedside manner of a man-eating saber tooth). Meanwhile, clothed only in his V-neck and skivvies, Mykl is wide open to the doctor’s diabolical art. But the importance of this battle is subjective, and as the players verbally joust, the artist’s mind and pen wander to explore the grotesque beauty of post-modern commercial sprawl. So which is more meaningful, the jabbering mouth-nonsense of the evolved ape, or the careless and unaware result of his actions: the discarded soda cup, the grassy island amidst a tar-black lot, the ugly aesthetic of shopping plaza capitalism? Decide!

Blank Haven: my little sisters the birds

Little friends are nice and useful!

Comics Semiotics: The weird world of Jack Chick

Here's a column I wrote about Jack Chick:

"You’ve probably seen them yourself, little rectangular Tijuana-bibles of things, longer than they are high, two-color printed covers. They have names like “The Beast”, “The Demon’s Nightmare”, and “The Death Cookie, printed in bold white against a solid black square. Perhaps you found one perched atop the t.p. in a truck stop john, or sitting in the dispenser slot of a cigarette machine. Maybe you’ve found one left on a park bench, or tucked between the worn copies of Puzzio paperbacks in the prison library. Jack Chick’s tracts are often used in a sort of passive proletarian evangelism. They spread the word about Chick’s personal brand of salvation in comics form..."

Check out the whole thing here