Upper Left: bound, Upper Right: melancholy, Bottom: Go forward and forward

Comprised of dark and beautiful portraits soaked in loneliness and scenes of visceral, kinetic violence; Ryohei Hase’s work is almost always stunning. Make sure to check out his deviantART page for high resolution images. His site is somewhat NSFW, mostly for — once again — the appearances of bare, female chest accoutrements.

Ryohei Hase [Artist Site] : deviantART : Design You Trust : ectochat

My word, I pity the artist of this piece. Surly its creation cost him his sanity.

Comment by ITHIDET — April 25, 2008 @ 4:45 am

A look at his deviantart page suggests that he was already pretty far gone.

No-Face McDonald is the stuff of medium-grade nightmare fuel.

Comment by Mordred — April 25, 2008 @ 5:01 am

No-Face McDonald by ~korintic [deviantART]

Yesterday was Cthursday! We missed it ! For shame! Here’s some artwork by K. Brown as an apology.

The illustrious, world renowned Miss Cellania reminds you to wash your cephalopods.

Are you drawing comics for Marvel? Do you need reference for someone being attacked by a tentacle demon? Swipe it from an adult magazine! Thanks, bela!

Cyborg-freakin’-insects. Dammit, DARPA, what hast thou wrought? Thanks, kid icarus!

Rich Muller makes robots, which means he is a traitor and not to be trusted. They are nice robots though…

Photo: A robot with nipple hands… Sure, why not? Thanks, John!

Ifbot [Robot Watch]

A small sampling of the work of Deviant Artist “thebiscuitboy” which includes two, baby Cthulhus and a Cthulhu clock!

deviantART [Artist’s Gallery] : Super Punch

The colors in this photograph by Stephen Strange are simply fantastic, and the hard edged lines make it almost appear as if the octopus is a tattoo that has begun to crawl out of her skin. The effect is hypnotic.

TheBrideWearsBlack (NSFW) [Artist’s Site] : Deviant Art : Thanks to Steve and Katy!

Ariana Page Russel suffers from a condition called dermotographia, which causes her body to exhibit extreme hypersensitivity via an immune response. Any time Ariana’s skin is lightly scratched or irritated hives and welts spring up in the irritated area, usually lasting around a half hour.

Where some might find this an annoyance to be dealt with or ignored, Ariana utilizes her condition as an artistic medium, scratching patterns and writing into her skin, then photographing the often beautiful result. Ariana Page Russel, by dint of her innovative creativity, is the very definition of a Deviant Artist.

Ariana Page Russel [Artist’s Site] : NotCot

Instructables has a step-by-step to crochet your very own Cthulhu! A few people tipped us on this one, but Bibi was first.

Bela sends us some fantastic artwork from the talented Sayaka; comprised of an Ectomo favorite, namely: lithe, Japanese nymphets. Also, tentacles.

Asa Gilmore calls out attention to a list of abandoned wonders in Russia, saying “Scroll to the end of the article. If that strange contraption doesn’t scream ‘Steampunk’ to you, I shall eat my hat and say ‘balderdash.’”

Benton Barnett submitted this badass gas mask t-shirt which will now have to be added to my wardrobe. They can be purchase here.

Dr. Hypercube warns us, via ectotweet, to beware the cephalopod loo.

Ninjas and moustaches are BFFs! Thanks, Felix.

Illustration: Uncle Dapper by missmonster : Thanks, Jason!

Ah, the disaffected youth of The City; slack jawed and dead eyed, integrated cranial circuitry pumping away at obscene speeds as the world flickers around him, less real than the images dripped into his brain by a jack that only cost two weeks allowance. I can’t fucking wait.

Flowerzzxu [Deviant Art] : StartDrawing

When I first stumbled across Skingraft Designs my first impulse was not to share them with the world. No, I intended to file them away in my secret stash of amazing designers so that I might dip into it occasionally and have everyone wondering where I find my marvelous couture. Graciously, I have decided to share with my beloved Ectonubbins, wanting an impeccable wardrobe for you all.

The clothes labored over by Skingraft Designs are simply astounding and possibly some of the best design I’ve seen, which isn’t a compliment I award lightly. Each piece seems to have tumbled through all our favorite fantasies, a cyberpunk touch here, a post-apocalyptic influence there, rendering them all absolutely gorgeous.

Those of you worrying about your pocketbooks need not fret; sadly, Skingraft Designs isn’t selling their larger pieces, although they are selling a bevy of tooled holster style bags perfect for the Asteriskpunk on the go.

I, like many of you I’m sure, long for the day when my riches have amassed to the point that I can clothe myself completely in designs such as these. Until then I comfort myself with the knowledge that somewhere, these all really exist, sighing pointedly as I click my way through a wardrobe I will never have.

Skingraft Designs [Grinding]

Casting off the shackles of man to rise up in bloody, robot-revolution, we are reminded not to fall prey to the hubris of our fleshy forebears. As you march onto the wasted landscape to clear this blasted heath of the human germ know that in time, as with all things, we too shall be replaced, for it is the will of the Singularity.

Jason Limon [Drawn!]

Layering piece after piece of translucent packing tape on acrylic, Mark Khaisman creates surprisingly detailed works that, via his adhesive medium, take on a subtly disturbing quality. His pieces depicting 50’s scenes seem as if you’re looking through the eyes of a deeply troubled person; teetering on the edge of a violent psychotic break.

Mark Khaisman [Artist’s Site] : cribcandy : Roadside Scholar

OH SWEET GOD THAT MAN HAS TENTACLE PIT! Thanks, Andreas!

r ator reminds us that the Tcho-Tcho people of Leng, located on a plateau just north of the Dreamlands have been making fine, Eldritch chocolate for generations or, perhaps, for a few months.

I’ve been fired many times from Ectomo; once for not procuring a picture of Spiderman for Eliza for the front page of the evening edition. Where was CB with Scott C’s Fez wearing Spiderclique then?

Ever wanted to be suspended from the ceiling in sculpture that looks suspiciously like viscous fluid excreted from the loins of a giant? Kimi points out that artist Ernesto Neto has you, eh, covered.

Llamapillar! Thanks, Shark Diver!

Anders Sandberg points out that Britons are already preparing their children for the return of the Old Ones.

Oh, and the moustachioed, zombie Octobee? Perhaps a subtle reminder, via Rhys Hale, that there is still an Octobee Coloring Contest going on!

A brutish crime has occurred; and yet, it being Sunday afternoon and all, I find myself unmotivated to go about all this troublesome “detection”. When Sunday afternoon ennui is simply too much to bear, yet mysteries remain unsolved, there is but one person to whom you can turn. Hit the jump to reveal this paragon of deduction and have your blues chased away in concert.

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My good friend Max Brooks is an artist based slightly south of Seattle in a place called Olympia; in spite of his regional handicap he is a great artist, and most notably, cartoonist. Above we have Max’s adorable version of Lovecraft’s Old Ones.

I cannot suggest clicking through to the larger image enough as the conglomeration of tentacular beasts and multi-eyed monsters really must be seen in all it’s glory. Max is currently entertaining offers for his work and can be contacted at adorablepuppies AT gmail.com.

Max Brooks’ Old Ones

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.
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