You hear about “crazy cat ladies” a lot. Which I suppose Gorey could also be called as such. Self proclaimed ‘sexless’ being that he was. Although Morrissey tried that whole a-sexual shtick in the 90s, and we all know where that ended up.
I never really thought much of his personal life or his influences. But I suppose his love for the feline does make sense. He was a ballet lover as well. The stature of his characters are not dissimilar to the movement of a cat or a dancer.
He is forever in my fantasies of crosshatchings…now with cats.
In the weeks to come, we’ll be exploring the world of Nick Zedd. I chose to start with Electra Elf & Fluffer . It forces one to retain their patience through occasional banal dialogue that is salt and peppered with nuggets of hilarity, clever wit, sarcasm, super gross stuff, and insanity.
The premise of the show is a classic civie by day, superhero by night scenario. Electra Elf, played by Rev Jen, is an elven superhero. Her sidekick Fluffer is a talking Chihuahua with radioactive pee that paralyzes her enemies. To say the show is low budget is an understatement. (Which is brilliant!) Overlays of dogs licking over a beaver shot, sea monkey monsters, goth band divas that try to take over the world, traces of a very Tim and Eric style in technique and humour way before Tim and Eric.
It’s available on DVD and it gives one the sensation of watching a brilliant show that you and your art star friends made. It’s difficult to believe that someone else made it. Why didn’t you make this, and watch at home with your friends?
My favourite segment to the show is the “One to Grow On” segment that happens at the end of some of the episodes.
My good friends, band Cock and Swan (Johnny Goss and Ola Hungerford), are my go to reserve tank of general technology cliff notes.
Johnny created this simple robot drummer to assist them during their shows because they are only two people and each play about 50 different instruments. Sometimes you need a little helping hand. While Johnny’s prowess for playing drums (he sets a ¾ full glass of iced cola purely for sound alteration on his kit) is not to be missed, I am besotted with the concept of this little assistant he’s developed. Here’s a simple example video of the robot baterista below:
How Does it Work?
What Johnny’s done is taken a power amplifier (basically like a PA system) and plugged some speakers in. Instead of the speakers pushing air with their paper cones, he’s cut the paper cones off and built a cylinder that comes off of the center of the speaker where the coil is.
It’s a sad fact that most of us are guaranteed at least one hearse ride.
Most of us, however, will not ride in hearses as radical as the ones depicted in the video, posted above for your viewing pleasure.
According to the aforementioned film clip, the Denver Hearse Club was barred from participating in…shall we say, mainstream car shows due, one would assume, to their somewhat darque demeanor and choice of whip. I say it’s their damn loss, and our damn gain, because this is the coolest video your Humble Correspondent has seen in a month of Sundays. A pack of unruly Gothic do-gooders kicking ass with assault rifles goes a long way with me, and the fact these acts are committed to the strident tones of the theme to “The A-Team”? Come on.
Come on.
They whack a Soviet with a hearse door, for Cromm Cruaich’s sakes. And who hasn’t wanted to do that?
Frank Frazetta died of a stroke today. He was born in 1928, which, to put it into perspective for most of the children reading/posting on this site, means he was alive for every single Marx Brothers theatrical release.
The man was incredibly influential, of course. Moreso than is generally acknowledged, even by his fans. His influence was not only near-universal in modern figurative genre art, but at no point has anyone surmounted the bar he set for his own style. Boris Vallejo, Julie Bell, and the rest of the artists working in the cheesy-paperback-cover genre absorbed his tricks and cheats, but somehow never achieved his level of charm. I believe Frazetta’s true talent lay in his power of suggestion: he knew what not to paint.
The Moon Maid
date unknown
One of my favorite Frank Frazetta pieces. The colors here are what does it. Frazetta was a master of skin tone, and it was from him, via my father, that I learned the trick of combining contrasting colors to make realistic skin tones. Note the yellow ochre and lavender on the girl’s skin—eyepopping colors combining to produce a super-organic pallor. Nobody since Sargent could paint skin like this (see the infamous Madame X), and nobody but Frazetta bothered to render all the dimples, ruffles, creases and swellings of a voluptuous woman’s butt. His anatomy could be sloppy when he was in a rush, but he knew exactly how much to paint and how much to imply. Her hands are mere suggestive brushstrokes, her face is a sweet nothing, and the background fades into a mauve mist. The little realisms, like this princess’ fat ass and heavy breasts, sold the image, and transported her from yet another yawn-inducing pinup, to a vulnerable, round, strong, soft, sexy being.
It is, perhaps, unfair to join the army of “haters” who would criticize the lyrical stylings of the rap group who, donning the warpaint of the ageless harlequin, call themselves the Insane Clown Posse. And it would be, perhaps, enabling to their followers, the so-called Juggalos — the females being called Jugglettes — to join in this cavalcade of sneering judgment, as much of their identity is dependent on an overblown sense of Us (Jugglos) versus Them (Everyone Else).
That said, I feel I would be remiss if I were to ignore the the fantastic mess that is their newest single “Miracle” (or disingenuous of me to imply that I am above snatching such low-hanging fruit). Atop I giant ziggurat, telescoping into the cosmos, the duo of Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope pontificate on the majesty and mystery of the universe in all its stunning facets. Here then is the miracle of birth, with Mr. Dope positioned in front of a woman, her legs splayed beneath a maternity gown in such a manner as to let the viewer know that, indeed, there be a baby totally crowning out that pussy. Here is the delightful anecdote of a pelican seeking to abscond with Mr. J’s cellular phone, even after the man had gone so far as to provide the thieving fowl with a delectable fish.
In sheer defiance of the World Wide Web Consortium's will, Ectomo was designed using a non-web-standard font. Luckily, it is included in the excellent font pack released by the H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society, which can be freely downloaded in Mac and PC formats here. Ectomo should still look fine without it, though.
