I have very little to say, as I am feeling quite ill and have to go to get to bed if I’m going to go to work in the morning. It’s also been a very unproductive weekend, wherein I have had very little motivation to get anything done. I also don’t know if I’m slipping into another little episode yet, but I’m spotting familiar patterns. I also have to switch to a new diet before I can be prescribed medicine I’m being recommended, which is going to suck majorly. But, I suppose, it will also help make me healthier so screw it.
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It was payday this week, and after payday I tend to buy new albums, just to liven up my listening experience. This month, however, I ran into some difficulty in selecting something to purchase; I’d pretty much exhausted my listening capacity for industrial and metal with near-constant Nine Inch Nails and Marilyn Manson throughout the last month, and I just didn’t know what I was in the mood for.
Then, something twigged in me; I had been listening to a documentary about the War of the Worlds, and all the panic it caused when it first aired in 1938. I’ve not listened to it all yet, but of the bits I’ve heard, a lot of it holds up really well to modern storytelling techniques. Yes, the idea of invaders from Mars may be a bit far-fetched nowadays, but the way that they presented the story, interrupting a music show, framing the plot as live radio broadcasts. You can compare it to modern films like Cloverfield, the Blair Witch Project, anything that tries to present itself as being genuine and real.
Morning all!
Unfortunately it’s been a bit of a wet weekend, and as such we didn’t get to see Batman: The Dark Knight Rises since nobody was all that keen on swimming to the cinema. So America and anyone else who gets films after the UK: I think we can call this one a draw 😛
Anyway, I wanted to see if you guys had any insight, as readers and some of you as fellow creators: I have an idea for a short comic, which I believe has the capability to become quite popular (It’s a cute little four-page funny, about a kid who is a 10-year old tortured artist, his doomed escapades and how he gets through it with tea and kisses from his beloved muse).
Hullo all!
I’m sure you’ll all be glad to hear that I’ve finished the first draft to the next Elf Blood story arc, Dreamland and am now in the process of editing it! I thoroughly enjoyed writing it, and it’s gonna be great fun to illustrate, so I’m really looking forward to making a start on it 🙂
In the meantime, Miscalculation thunders on, and things are beginning to heat up! The more astute among you may have noticed that there are actually two stories in this arc, hence it being longer than the others: My aim for future arcs is to stick to around 50-odd pages, to ensure that the story is paced properly.
I was going to do an in-depth artistic analysis on a recent website that came to my attention, but as flat inspection is coming up and I’ve been attempting to clean up this dump and illustrate all day, I’ve not been able to prepare one. So here, have a few of my impending ideas for new creative work instead:
Coming soon:
‘i.’: A story about a supernatural serial-killer and his relationship with a successful author. Includes plenty of mindscrews and plenty of futility, despair and frustration.
Morning all, just a quick update as I have to dash off to work shortly (I shifted around my sleep schedule so that I had some proper sleep and woke up earlier to finish today’s page).
I found a photo of the float I helped design at the Manchester Day Parade; Rather sadly (or fortunately for the internet at large), I’m at the corner diametrically opposite the camera. It’s not my photo, so I’ll link it rather than copying and hosting it:
http://manchesterclimatemonthly.files.wordpress.com/2012/06/siemens-float-at-mcr-parade.jpg
The playerbase of DayZ continues to expand, despite having an advertising budget of exactly zero dollars. Now, while this pays tribute to the fantastic work that Rocket has put into the mod and the intense fun that is possible to have, unfortunately with more people comes the fact that the rate of banditry is rising.
Allow me to explain: Bandits are players who murder other players (survivors) for equipment or for fun. PKers, essentially.
Now, I have nothing against bandits at all. They’re a vital part of the game experience, ratcheting up the tension of every encounter with an unfamiliar player. What I DO take issue with, however, is the increasing rate of complete and utter assholes playing the game.
First off, I apologise for being late today; I actually fell asleep while working on the page last night and had to haul my sorry backside to bed before I could finish it.
In any case, better late than never! Part of the reason I had so little time was that I went to see new Ridley Scott film Prometheus, a prequel of sorts to the Alien series.
Here is my verdict in a bottle: It is an okay film. I won’t say I was disappointed, but I think I was perhaps expecting too much from it. There’s nothing overarchingly WRONG with the film per se, and there is plenty of wonderful stuff in there. But I think it would be best to approach the film cautiously.
It’s Friday, and as usual I’m a sleep deprived wreck. Fortunately, several things have added up to make me a particularly happy sleep-deprived wreck today!
1) I got my hardcopy proof back from the printers for Memecasters #1, my first ever printed work! It feels great to hold a physical comic in your hands after years of doing the online thing. It feels like I’ve reached a real new level, although the artwork itself is a year old. It marks the start of a new phase for me, especially as now I’ve gotten over my jitters about never having printed before. I’m looking forward to receiving the final product in just over a week!
I woke up again. Still cold. Still dark. The wind had died down to a gentle rustle, an eerie calm settling over the countryside after the brief exchange of gunfire. I checked myself; The bullets were still lodged in there, but my bandage had held firm and I was, for now, not getting any worse.
Sitting up, I took stock of my situation. I still had all of my equipment; For that, I was grateful. But I could barely see, my vision unfocussed and washed out. What remained of my blood pounded through my mangled veins as I hauled myself to my feet, and I took my first agonizing step forward. Gasping through the sharp pain, I shouldered my rifle and tried to move.
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