I've been going through one of my unproductive/tired/uninspired periods. I don't know if other artists and writers go through it but it sucks and I hate it. One day you have all these ideas and energy and then the next there's nothing, the well is just dry.
Here's some random shit from my brain just so I can write and post something and make my free time seem like not a total waste.
When I was a kid most of my clothes were hand-me-downs from my cousins and I wore my jeans till they fell apart. Having holes in them wasn't cool because it meant you were poor and couldn't afford jeans that didn't look like shit.
So flash forward several years and find me with my mind boggled at the idea of buying expensive pre-ripped jeans in actual stores. I was told it was the cool thing to do. I pointed out that you could get much cheaper real ripped jeans at Goodwill and was told that it wasn't cool if the rips were real. I didn't get it then, I still don't get it now. Why would you pay lots of money to look poor?
Subnormality had it's 500th strip posted today and it's possibly the best one yet: http://www.viruscomix.com/page500.html
Rowntree seriously needs to make a huge book of his work. He's got a pretty good size fan base now and those puppies would sell out faster than Paris Hilton's snatch at a back alley auction. I know I'd get one for me and a few other people that I think would deserve it. (A Subnormality book, not Paris's snatch...)
I was trying to think today of what freaked me out the most TV/movie-wise when I was a kid. First and foremost was the fucking orange from Sesame Street:
The orange inhabits it's own surreal world where it's created by outside forces all so it can sing opera. What happens after the clip is over? Does it get taken back apart now that it's purpose is spent? Man, what a cruel statement about the futility of man's existence. I hate you orange. I hate you for all the nightmares you gave me as a kid. I hate the fact that you're still creepy after all these years, your unnatural claymation movements and videogame sounds suggesting an entire world of creepy shit just like you that exists in a parallel dimension. And most of all I hate that you're more disturbing than any story I could write or movie I could make. I hope they ate you after the recording was finished. I hope they peeled your skin back and ate your flesh. I hope they cracked your nut open and ate the insides out of your nose. I hope you're burning in a fiery Hell where people eat you everyday but somehow you're still alive, singing Carmen while you get devoured over and over for all eternity. Fuck you orange, fuck you hard.
The Nostalgia Critic also reminded me of a movie called We're Back: A Dinosaur's Story where the villain gets devoured at the end by a flock of crows. I had shoved that particular memory back into some far flung closet of my brain but now it's back to give me nightmares again:
Jesus, what kind of an ending to a kid's movie is that? No wonder I'm so messed up in the head.
Shit like that would never fly today. I'm kind of on the fence if that's a good thing or not...
There should be some Cinema Sewer up this weekend, I've got some movies that look wonderfully bad that I can't wait to get into once I get some free time and I'm not so damn tired. Specifically two movies that feature a woman with insanely large breasts that plays a secret agent. The picture on the inside of the DVD case is so insane I can't stop staring at it...