Who Watches The Watchmen?
I am not your classic comic-book fan.
I used to buy comics as mere picture and text… visual nourishment in an era of boredom, when I would stay with friends or family while my mother finished her college education. But that hobby was soon abandoned. More often than not, I had no idea what I was reading, so it was easy to leave it by the wayside.
Years later, still young, I was taken to a book sale. I drifted out from under my parents’ wing, and went perusing on my own. I loved to read, but I really didn’t intend to get anything. But then I saw it.
A curious comic with a even more curious character. Scud: The Disposable Assassin. I must’ve been 12, or so… my parents bought it for me, when perhaps they shouldn’t have, but it happened— I was changed. Thrust wildly into a world of the surreal, the obscene, and the incredible. I took it to school and subjected others’ to my vice, like some sort of smuggled treasure.
I never got into the comic versions of the great superheroes. Batman, X-Men, Spiderman… too much to take in. So many books, a massive universe, a billion different retractions and parallel storylines. But Scud… Scud stuck with me. Over the years, I collected all the issues, several printings, and spin-off comics. It was much easier for me than to try and dive into the middle of an ocean of another name.
That is something I really enjoyed.
My personality is one that is absorptive. When something grips me, I want to know everything about it. I want to immerse myself in it’s universe and become Laplace’s Demon— I want to know where every last atom rests. A small run book makes that much easier, and in the end, more enjoyable for me.
That never left me.
As such, I have become a great fan of small-run comic books. One-shots and miniseries and the like. I’ve been taught of some incredible gems in this manner— We3, Gravity, Perhapanauts. But that also meant I missed out on a great deal of the larger things in the comic world.
Being told great things of Watchmen growing up, I put it on my “list”, which meant I was interested, but not enough to go and get it. What a mistake. My friends who are similarly comic-entertained informed me of the great transgression I had made. That, and the impending movie adaptation of Watchmen finally coaxed me to go out and buy the thing.
I’m so glad I did, and I’m honestly kicking myself for not having gone out back in the mid-80s and bought it when it was first release. YES, I would have only been about 2 years old at the time… but it’s really not an excuse.
I’m not even finished, but I can’t help but to sing it’s praises. It’s timeless in a particular way. Like… Jaws is timeless; but when I saw it, I’d already seen everything that was inspired by it, and it’d been much too long… and much of it’s thunder was robbed. But Watchmen is a different beast.
Although I’ve seen so very much of what Watchmen has wrought on this world since it’s creation; even though it’s been about 20 years since it’s release… I find it incredibly engaging, and curiously still relevant. It’s amazing to me.
My favorite character in the book is Rorschach, which isn’t hard to believe, as he’s quite the fan favorite. He’s like a super-detective, with an incredible backstory and psychological profile (much like most of the characters in the book) and he’s incredibly gripping.
I just recently bought a laptop with the understanding that I’d use it to do graphic design work when I went back to Atlanta or on other trips. Being so enrapt in the universe of the Watchmen, and loving Rorschach so, I decided to make something on my laptop… for my new laptop.
Yellow is an iconic color for Watchmen, so I made that the beginnings of my canvas. I took one of the various ink blot patterns off Rorschach’s mask and made that my center, then replicated it several times and distorted it to make layers in the background— to make it a bit more dynamic. The colors of those shapes are the colors that make up Rorschach’s “costume”… brown trenchcoat and fedora, purple pinstripe pants and hat trim, white scarf and mask and of course, red blood- often not his.
The odd script beneath the inkblot is Rorschach’s signature, something he often leaves his friends or foes on his notes. The red blood drip is also iconic for Watchmen, adorning the cover and the start point for the comic’s plotline.
I’ve read a few books, some comics… plenty of movies I’ve watched and tales I’ve been told. But Rorschach, like Scud, has made my leisure time that much more of a pleasure when I’m able to drift away into their worlds.
~LX will always be a kid at heart. A near-psychotic, near-psychotropic, near-psychadelic kid… but a kid nonetheless.
Le Raconteur #2 -- End of the Beginning
Raconteur (n.) – One who tells stories and anecdotes with skill and wit.
Alright, so I’ve been absent for a little while, but it’s with good reason. What is that good reason, you ask; that all two persons of you? Well, school, dagnabbit. Freaking school never ceases to amaze me… even though I’m taking as few as 10 hours this semester, with one class ending way back in the back-way; I still felt like I was under some enormous pressure. (3 A’s and a B, by the way! That never happens, believe me. :p)
Anyways— I’m getting before my self, and my self befores I’m.
End of Independent Study
So, the independent study I was in finally ended, much to my sadness. I told Mrs. Horne that I felt as though some of my best work came out of that endeavor, and I wonder if she agrees in earnest, or if she was just humoring me.
Although not as ceremonious as the previous unveilings, I couldn’t help but want to go ahead and get this over with. So without further ad-… actually, didn’t you ever feel like the phrase “without further ado” pretty much is the DEFINITION of further ado? Not a lot, this is true, but— I digress. (Now, that’s more like it.)
The Hot Fuzz Triptic
This is a sort of test of a concept I had years ago, that I had tentatively entitled “Unsung Heroes of American Cinema.” The idea was to grab screens of cool supporting characters, or even speaking-part extras in big movies, and do LX-strations of them.
When I first saw Hot Fuzz, I thought the freeze frames of these three supporting characters laughing in the supermarket during the movie were hilarious. I thought, I HAVE to do this now, using those three faces— they are priceless.
But a problem arose— DVD screenshots SUCK for quality. Suddenly, I’m screwed. but good ol’ Chris (or as I affectionately call him Teenage Mutant Ninja TURDle) suggested I take pictures of the TV or computer screen with my digital camera, and used that. While that wasn’t perfect, it worked out pretty damned good. I’m not so fond of the middle one, Doris— mostly because her face is so contorted by laugh and heavy helmet, that she looks intrinsically unnatural. The Andy’s turned out fantastic though, imo. Especially the one with the bolognese.
Make Love, Not War.
Long story semi-shortened— I had a different project in line for my final piece of the study, but time has a way of not permitting, as you know. I opted to bump that back to a later, undetermined date and push forward a concept I had scheduled for the summer.
It’s not meant to mean something grand or overly political. Whether you believe in the Iraq war, or don’t… whether you believe in the current government rule or not… I think we can all agree that war is NOT a place we ever WANT to end up intentionally.
More than anything, it’s a throwback to a couple of things. The old spirit of the 60’s and 70’s that I was not a part of, but I’ve become enchanted with as of recent. But more than anything— Banksy. I like taking pictures of myself and immortalizing them in illustration… doing things I’ll never do, or things I wish I could do. Cigarettes, remember?
Doing graffiti is something I fantasize being able to do, I see Banksy’s guerrilla stencil work gracing the streets of London through the majestic windows of Digg and StumbleUpon and I wish ever so dearly that I could do even an eighth of the same. But I feel like… even if I could realistically find someone to teach me now, they wouldn’t because I’m not in tune enough with the streets.
I honestly couldn’t say they were wrong either. Oh well, maybe in another life.
Coffee Tab-LX
I made a little portfolio of everything I created in the study this semester to turn in to Mrs. Horne. Upon taking my collection of print-outs to Staples to be bound, I immediately received a huge boner; induced by the thought of having my own coffee table book of works I had completed. In any case, I made a little sumtin’sumtin’ to cover my portfolio. Thought I’d share it here— nothing special, but I like it.
Grandiose Burgling of Locomotives, of the Fourth Variety.
GTA4 is a pox. I can’t shake it. In my car, I fantasize about driving down the middle of the road, barely getting by; the possibility of being ejected from my car and sent sailing; wind whipping at my face, drying out my teeth as my ear-spread grin is bared to the world. When I see police cars by in traffic, my muscles jerk as I jam the steering wheel in the other direction, praying that our cars don’t make contact, lest I need to make a run from the long arm of justice. At night, I dream I am behind cover, throwing grenades over my shoulder at other felonious failures, begging to make a desperate reach to the next rung of the termite-infested ladder that is… the American Dream.
The game is fucking great. It’s not perfect. But it’s GREAT fun.
I have found no less than 4, unlabeled mini-games within that massive game, one of which— my favorite, that I will explain to you here.
Patriot Pummeling
Step 1) Get a Patriot.
Step 2) Drive.
Let the innate ability of the Patriot’s otherworldly destructive capacity overwhelm you. My personal most enjoyable method? Reach top speed towards an active intersection, and T-bone some poor motherfucker who thought his morning drive to the Golden Arches would be ANYTHING but laced with flaming metal and screeching tires… let alone death.
Generally, your target will slump over the wheel, foot still on the gas, driving headlong into the nearest wall or pedestrian (the latter is more hilarious), or they will open the door and get out to confront you, and promptly fall to the ground in a delayed fashion— unconscious or dead.
It’s wonderful.
…
I suppose this is the part where I tell you that the game isn’t all that evil, and the drunk driving isn’t fun, and it doesn’t celebrate crime or evil-doing in any manner unless you seek it out for yourself.
But get this… that’s common sense. I know that’s foreign to a lot nowadays, but if you can’t figure out for yourself that it’s JUST A GAME, without it being spoon fed to you by someone with a print-out license to drum up figures or write scientific poppycock… then you’re beyond help.
Get Down with the Sickness
Beth got me sick.
I hate being sick. The common cold is torture to me. My head feels like it’s always on the verge of caving in. My temperature is in a state constant variance. The scars from my tonsillectomy swell up and makes swallowing a burden, and talking painfully uncomfortable at best— which I’m sure pleases most of my friends. I get so congested I can’t breathe, and when I attempt to swallow, the congestion is so bad that my tongue actually sticks to the roof of my mouth like some sick vacuum; one that induces panic until I can right myself. My leg throbs from my old knee injury, and I have a general malaise that envelopes me like *a devil’s blanket. *
It fucking BLOWS.
The common cold is a vile strain, and unto to it, I raise an enfeebled but incredibly poignant middle finger.
Fuck you, Sick. Fuck you. I hope you get a cold.
~LX knows that it still hasn’t sunk in that it’s finally summer. Maybe because of this everloving sickness.
Tango Foxtrot 2
So, long story short— (What, really!?) The Team Fortress 2 update was supposed to come out this week, but it didn’t. I had a huge hankering for Team Fortress 2, but I don’t want to get sucked back into it without the update coming in first. Don’t ask me why.
I SHOULD be working on my other artwork, and making my flashcards for my Art History test on Wednesday… but I got kinda bored, and I made the mistake of opening Garry’s Mod.
The point of no return.
So… here’s what happened.
I haven’t made a “comic” (heavy emphasis on the quotations) since I was in like… 4th grade. You might say my ability is the same as it was then. :p I totally forgot to make my models look better, and the way I’ve been making it, there’s A BUNCH of variance between picture quality. I’m just now really learning how to pose stuff… and I didn’t know what the hell to name the thing…
But I kind of like it.
I’ve been harping on about TF2 and the quality of the comics and machinima, so I think I finally went ahead and decided to try something, to prove to my friends (and myself) that I’m capable.
Anyways, sound off, tell me what you think! Should I do more? It honestly was a great deal of fun…
~LX hasn’t been this sidetracked since… ooh, kitties!
Bring On The NOISEttes!!
So, I gush about my Typography class on occasion. I even went so far as to post a story concerning a poster I made for that class. I am really enjoying what I’m learning in that class (or in school in general, for once) so I again felt compelled to share with you something I was kind of proud of.
The Noisettes
Don’t bother trying to actually read it… unless Lorem Ipsum is your idea of a good yarn.
The project requirements this time was to work with text and imagery in the medium of a magazine layout. We had options of what style of magazine to work with: Travel, Sports, Environment. In the end, I chose Entertainment.
Mrs. Horne had advised us to pick a famous artist, if only so we’d have access to a myriad of photography. But I couldn’t help but to want to center on one of my favorite new indie bands that I’ve gotten into: The Noisettes.
We’re supposed to achieve 60% variation between our two resolutions, so I wanted to focus on two aspects of the music that I love: The music’s energy, and Shingai’s voice.
The energy is profound in their debut album “What’s The Time, Mr. Wolf?” I was just going to generate a SeeqPod playlist for the uninitiated, but I want you guys to get a look at Shingai too, so:
Don’t Give Up
Sister Rosetta (Capture The Spirit)
For energy- I went with bright colors, skewed elements, and a minor layered effect by virtue of a “torn paper” effect around the portrait of Shingai. I think this resolution is freaking killer, but that’s just me. Fonts used: Hawaii Killer, Romeo.
As for my second resolution, I wanted to centralize on Shingai’s unique vocal power that she gives to the music. Very strong, soulful voice. She’s brings a lot to the band, by way of her voice alone, that makes them The Noisettes, instead of… just another indie rock band. This soul-based voice is what I tried to show in the second piece.
I think I could have pushed that old style layout feel a little more (if by nothing more than some of the Hairspray/Sister Rosetta moons and stars in the background), but in the time allotted ( read: I left it all until the 2 days before it’s due date :p ) I think I did well. Fonts used: Quigley Wiggly.
I hope Chris will put his up as well, because I think his were stellar. Definitely worth showing off.
I’m going to miss this class when it’s all done, I’ve always had a resounding love for typography… I used to fill the margins in all of my handouts with makeshift graffiti, and random words…
Hell, I still do.
~LX has always been a doodler. That sort of passive affirmation of my desires to become an artist / graphic designer brings me happiness.
Le Raconteur #1 -- Strip Smash
Raconteur (n.) – One who tells stories and anecdotes with skill and wit.
I figure I’ll do these semi-periodically, some things I want to write a blurb about either to chronicle it on the blog, or two put my own two cents in where Chris may have already.
Whether or not it occurs with any degree of skill and wit is up to you.
Here we go!
Embarrassment Session @ The Gold Club
Strip clubs aren’t really my scene. Typically assy music, smoke filled interiors filled with cheap debauchery (I prefer my vices to be of a slightly higher class) and people bent on sucking every last dollar out of my pocket. I like naked stuff as much as the other guy, but quality over quantity is something that applies to several facets of life… especially naked stuff. For me, anyways.
But, a number of my friends have taken up occupations there (AS BARTENDERS!), and a couple of my friends like naked stuff a great deal. Ever the one to be swayed by a bit of good old fashioned ego stroking (“C’mon Alex, come with us! It’ll be fun, because you’ll be there!!”) .
Plus, pool is free. So, I’ll go, I say. Play some Cutthroat, hit some really lucky shots like I always do and watch Phil’s jaw drop on occasion. Fun fun. I learned that a very few (like 3) girls there are worth diverting my attention to center stage, so it wasn’t all bad.
Little did I know that Rhi was conducting surreptitious reconnaissance, trying to find out what girls I thought were attractive throughout the night.
WHY?
For an embarrassment session.
For the uninitiated, that’s when your friends pay 60$ of hard-earned cash to laugh at you, amidst a _+forum of strangers.+
I was made to go up on stage, sit down, wrap my hands around the pole, while two women writhed and slid all over my half-laughing, half-fucking scared body. I imagine the idea is to make the man in question pop wood before the next segment, but I practice the Zen Art of Embarrassment-Based Erectile Diffusion. Tough stuff.
Next, they made me lap-dance one of the strippers. The less we talk about the better. >_>
Then they flogged me with a soft cat-o-ninetails. It was pretty wussy. I tried to egg them on to hit me harder, but they couldn’t hack it. So I felt pretty good about that. BRING IT ON!!
All in all, it was fun, but if it happens again… I’m going to add “Spontaneous Human Combustion Arsonist” to my resume.
Smash Tournamant @ AASU
Chris already talked about this for the most part, but I just wanted to touch upon it a little more. (Haha, yeah right.)
I’ve always had closet aspirations to become a “Pro Smash Player”. I have the highest win ratio in Brawl, and towards the last couple years of the Melee-era, Chris and I were head champs back and forth.
I think I have a grasp on the mechanics and the timing that is the foundation for a “pro player,” and if there’s going to be any game I’m going to excel at… it might as well be this one. There’s no way I’m going to master any other fighting game… too much nonsense.
But I always held the thought that I would be the “honorable pro.” I don’t believe in edge-hogging— the practice of grabbing the edge so your opponent can’t on his recovery. It’s easier to get around this in Brawl, but it’s still in use. I just don’t think it’s very honorable. I fully exercise my ability to throw shit and pound your ass on your way, but I’m not going to bitch out and grab the edge so you can’t. Doesn’t seem fair to me.
I equate it to starting a fight with a guy, and going immediately for the groin.
It just smacks of desperation. Not skill.
That being said, at the tourney, there was a Pit player I went head-to-head with in practice, and we had an AWESOME match. He beat me by a hair, which made me feel really good. His team almost came in second. But as soon as the dickery & cheapness reared their ugly heads… I was at a loss.
Chris and I got trounced the first match, and we stood better in our second, but I couldn’t keep up with a kamikaze Bowser who kept taking me out at 0%. Frustrating.
The third match was a lot different. It was a massacre. And at one-point in particular brightened my day drastically. I like to play as Peach & Toon Link (and now Snake!)… because I love playing with items. With these characters, I get access to items even when they are all turned off. It means a lot to me, because I like to play bait & switch with item throws and fakes.
So I’m playing with Peach and I am so lucky as to yank a Beam Sword. On the third match of all of them. But whatever. Thus began the onslaught of throws, mid-air catches and face-melting combos. Everyone in the crowd either cheered at this nunchuk-like style of swordplay, or shat their pants that I “hacked” somehow to get a item. I couldn’t help but titter.
I wish I had a video. It was majestic.
~LX loves to tell stories. Can’t you tell? No you can’t, because you already scrolled past my wall of text.
