One of the more incredible figures of British military history, the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography is quoted as having described him thusly, “With his black eyepatch and empty sleeve, Carton De Wiart looked like an elegant pirate, and became a figure of legend.” He was wounded eight times while serving during World War I, one injury taking his left eye and another taking his left arm. He retired at age 66 and died in 1963 at the age of 83. He is pictured here, with his bristly, defiant moustache in what could almost be described as a military mugshot, in 1944.
Four Red Bulls, twenty hours, and a bag of squid chips later, it is done. The very first Ectoplamosis print broadside is ready for distribution.
But soft, ye say, what in blazes am I talking about? I’ll let Warren Ellis, Big Daddy to Ectomo’s Little Sister, explain:
The broadside has a centuries-long history as a device for disseminating news and ideas. I mean, flyers go up on the web to be printed off, sure. But it’s not quite the same thing. Getting an idea, or a piece of writing, on a single sheet and saying, yes, print this off, copy it and distribute it wherever you like — that’d be interesting.
In short, a single-page guerilla publication, distributed by xerox and zealous reader in coffee shops, cubicle farms, club bathrooms, 24-hour greasy spoon diners, on telephone poles, shoved under windshield wipers, wiped under windshield shovers, safety-pinned on unsuspecting hobos, and fluttering in a comet tail behind us, wherever we may roam.
The first episode of ECTOPLASMOSIS! is offered in three editions:
This broadside is formatted specifically for easy printing and xeroxing, and features original artwork, an updated version of my famous Toxoplasmosis article, vintage illustrations, and an octobee coloring contest! Those of you who wish to curry our excellent favor, print and distribute with zest and enthusiasm! You will be rewarded in this life, and the next.
Stay tuned for more information about the coloring contest, a distribution contest, and other blunt mutterings from Brownlee.
By request, The Inhumanoids: How those of us at Ectomo have missed The Inhumanoids so far is beyond me; rife with unintentional hilarity and a giant mutant monster bearing a resemblance to our dark lord, The Inhumanoids is right up Ectomo’s alley.
The Head Saves the Earth-The Date: A classic tale; boy meets alien, alien takes up residence in boy’s head, boy meets girl, alien takes up residence in girl’s head.
Ah: A gorgeously rendered tale of soup worlds and small zombie children. As often as I despair at the state of CG film, it is the small art films like Ah that reach out a hastily constructed metaphoric hand to stroke my expansive, gelatinous forehead and remind me that everything will be alright.
Bump In The Night: Stop motion animated closet monsters combine forces with their rag-doll cohorts to scare the ever-loving shit out of each other. I have such fond memories of this show as a child, the passing frequency of stop motion animation from the early 90’s is at least lamentable and at worst a tragedy.
The Sunshine Makers: Happy elves inflict horrific chemical warfare on their gloomy, freakish, incredibly dapper cousins. Remember kids, if anyone looks, feels, or acts differently from you it is your solemn duty to poison and/or medicate them until they too enjoy a good red-assed frolicking.
It’s Friday so just sit back, relax, and watch James Brown, his man breasts glistening through an obscenely low v-neck, his legs clad in the widest and finest of flared pants. Watch him as he dances for he dances for you, Ectomo.
This Christmas, in an effort to clear our heads of the noisome din involved with visiting family members you don’t see all too often, my brother and I took a brief break in my hovel on the hill. My apartment is not like the other EctoEditors; it is not a bright, urban loft filled with offensive artwork like Brownlee’s, it isn’t rife with aged mahogany bookshelves and leather bound books as I imagine Rosenberg’s (having always been blindfolded and told to keep my hands at my sides during visits), nor is it a kiddy pool full of filth-water bordered by a trough, parked in front of a bank of monitors like Eliza’s.
No, where I rest my head is a dark, cold, cement affair; a soul crushing void in which only a few, deeply troubled, individuals find respite. Bookshelves of varying size and description, many hastily constructed with wood scraps and exposed nails with a taste for blood, line the walls, supporting a vast collection of graven images, idols, and blasphemous literature.
It had been quite some time since my sibling’s last visit to my pit, and though he was obviously fearful of my tentacular accoutrements, I felt the need to show off my recent acquisitions; soothing fear with knowledge like the Greek scholars of old, but with less catamitism. Continue Reading…
Innesmouth Beach by Phillip Blackman. Is it too much to ask to be allowed to relax on the beach and enjoy some human soul ice cream without having the kids constantly bothering you?
Some people love Jesus and some people, perhaps, wish to make love to Jesus. These people usually listen to Christian rock or form a Christian rock band. However, if you find that neither of these options appeal to you or that you lack the musical “talent”, there is the Inflatable, Love-Making Jesus. Features include a “Sopping Wet, Hungry Mouth” and an “Oversized Male Clitoris”, lest the word “penis” make you feel in the slightest bit like a homosexual as you sodomize your savior. For an extra two dollars you can upgrade the son of God with natural hair. Get one today or give one as a gift! The very real, very NSFW picture for this very fake product can be seen in all its glory after the jump. Continue Reading…
A brief peek at upcoming film, Coraline, on this quiet post-Xmas day. Originally a story by Neal Gaiman, Coraline follows the departure of a young girl (whose name I defy you to guess) into a world of doppleganger parents and ghostly children.
Coraline marks the first use of stereoscopy in a stop-motion film, ostensibly providing a sense of depth never before seen in stop-motion. Prospects of newfound depth and beauty in a wholly underrepresented form of cinema is enough to get me in a theater seat; add ghost children that aren’t being used as a horror film cliche and you can consider my (and hopefully your) tentacles tickled.
In honor of my yearly Christmas pestilence, during which I am rent asunder with fever, continual mucus, and a truly exquisite headache, I present this haunting song by Ecto favorites, They Might Be Giants. My voice is absolutely amusing during these little episodes. My mouth drops open, and out comes a honking wheeze like a lounge singer run afoul of a reticulated python. Compared to that, Flansberg’s nasal drawl is positively melodic.
Ectomo wishes you and yours the very best on this joyous Christmas Day. We hope that while opening your presents you keep in mind the true spirit of the holiday and remember the story of little baby Santa Claus, born to a traveling encyclopedia salesman, Joe, and his wife, Mary, in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania in the pool shed behind the Holiday Inn Express, for the hotel was sold out and yea, it was indeed Joe’s fault for truly he traveled much and should have known better.
But lo, in the morning did three housekeepers, made to work but getting time and a half, bring them gifts of towels and shampoo and soap and let them bathe in the employee bathroom and were, perhaps, slightly aghast and confused as to why Mary decided to give birth in a pool shed instead of going to the hospital but they did not pry for it was, indeed, none of their business and they had rooms to turn down. So rejoice ye Ectomites! Rejoice, for Santa is born, so that one day he may die for your sins and, on the third day and on that day for every year after, rise from the dead delivering gifts while continuing to quell his eternal hunger for brains. Merry Christmas!
For the holiday season we bring you one of the best Christmas songs out there. Whether you’re enjoying roasted chestnuts and the warmth of friends and family or drinking yourself into a stupor in a dark corner Christmas in Sarajevo is the perfect seasonal accompaniment.
Sadly, this song runs afoul of the oft bemoaned stereotype of great songs having awful videos. Replete with a windblown silhouette of an 80’s rocker and an immediate desire to smack the obnoxiously saccharine 8 year old featured it’s probably best you simply listen and enjoy.
Jean Libbera “The Double Bodied Man” and his “brother Jacques. Truly a man of distinction he sports a fine handlebar. He married, had four children, and passed away in 1936 still possessed of both brother and follicular facial adornment.
Eliza has a problem. Due to an inner ear infection, a belly full of Red Bull, a pair of 14 inch platform boots with drunken goldfish in the heels and a Cosmo-Kramer-esque sense of internal equilibrium, the illustrious Ms. Gauger managed to trip and drop her cherished MacBook Pro upon the cold concrete ground. Kersmash.
Now the screen doesn’t work. Eliza took it to Apple and they are quoting a repair price of an astonishing eight hundred dollars. Now, Eliza may be an asexual shrew with genitalia as shriveled and desiccated as the corpse of a sea snail transplanted to the Sahara, but she knows when she’s being boned.
She’s looking for other options, preferably (but not necessarily) in the Oakland, California area. Do we have any maverick repair gurus in the audience? Eliza can pay, but it needs to be far more reasonable than what Apple is charging. We’d all like to see her get through this, especially since she is working on some sickeningly cool stuff for Ectomo to roll out in the New Year. In addition to paying cash money, we can also distribute plush Cthulhus to anyone who can help get this sorted.
If you can help, or have a suggestion, either drop us a line in the comments or email Eliza at eliza.gauger KRUNK! gmail.com, where KRUNK! is an at symbol.
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.
Ninja-bot echoed my own sentiments with the following angry tirade about the Ectomo broadside:
