My dears, my sweet darlings, my everythings, my sins and souls, my readers. I feel as if sticky veils of honey-snot are being dragged off my starved gills. Like a stone toad, I am reborn from muck. And how I long to shake and shiver and splatter it all over your eager cheeks.

Well. Seeing as our posting schedule is more relaxed than it once was (no longer is Ectomo in the first wild urgencies of youth), I have turned our Twitter feed back on. Meaning: Twitter user Ectomo will now report when a new post is posted, as it will with this very post. POST.

I am pleased to announce that in addition to my slow recovery from the worst case of burnout in recorded human (or wookiee) history, I am also in the thrall of preparation panic for the sake of two overlapping art shows, in Seattle, in September. One a group show, with a cadre of my prestigious peers, the other a lonely solo redux of my bizarrely successful Lighthouse Roasters show. More on that when I have flyers at hand, I suppose.

Until next time, droogs.

milkman [Flickr]

Always staring.

Tebe Interesno [Dark Roasted Blend : Thanks, Willow!]

Oh how I loathe conceptual designs. The near constant reminder of a future that lies just out of reach. Well god damn it like Veruca Salt before me I Want It Now. It is highly unacceptable that I (and you as well I suppose) can’t reach within my vest pocket to pull out an ornately scrolled “pocket-watch” to respond to the aspersions cast on my mother in a text message from Brownlee.

The Cobalt [Yanko Design : grinding.be]

The constant struggle against the ever-mounting morass of wires, culminating in a cyclical orgy of power strips and extension cords, is familiar to all of us engaged in the painfully plodding progression of technology. While the number of cords snaking their way throughout our humble shrines to technology decreases exponentially, there are still all manner of power cords that remain, for which you have Edison and his thuggish sense of competition to thank.

While there have been several power strip designs that either attempted to consolidate or obfuscate your Gordian knot of cabling, they simply end up only slightly improved versions of their forebears and the dream of a organized domicile is shattered once more. However, designer Joris Laarman has approached the problem from a different perspective. Instead of developing another means to do away with as much cabling as possible, he has integrated the frustrating coils into his design, a stroke of genius resulting in the Wirepod.

Now this is normally the part of our program where I regrettably inform you that whatever item I’ve been rambling incoherently about is simply a conceptual design and thus unavailable for purchase. But not today my friends, oh no. It is my exquisite pleasure to inform you that Arctecnica will be releasing the Wirepod as part of it’s new line of products, called Wiremore, that seek to expose, rather than hide, our collective rats’ nests. So whether you’re the type that appreciates the decidedly cyberpunk look of cabling criss-crossing the vast expanse of a dank apartment floor, or you simply want a bit of art-snob design added to your abode, Arctecnica have you covered.

Wirepod [Dezeen : cribcandy]

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:

• US Letter 8.5 x 11″ one-side printed sheet: broadside1_standard_final.pdf
• 8.5 x 11″ borderless, all the way to the EDGE, man! For people with printers who can handle “borderless” printing: broadside1_borderless_final.pdf
• Eurotrash A4 8.3 x 11.7″, for our international clientele: broadside1_a4_final.pdf

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.

A webcam suitable for the most die-hard Residents fan: the naked, androgynous body of a kewpie doll with a glowing blood red eyeball for a head.

According to ex-ToM harem girl, the lovely, dollsome Lisa Katayama, who Eliza and I miss dearly:

The most popular contemporary Japanese ghost story is a manga called Ge Ge Ge no Kitaro. Kitaro is a peace-loving “yokai” (Japanese ghost) boy, the last living (haha) member of the Ghost tribe. This naked guy with a giant eyeball for a head is his father, Medama no Oyaji, who speaks in a really high voice and is always giving his son sage advice on how to survive in the ghost world.

A castrati nightmare demon with the body of a sexless infant and a pulsing eyeball for a head: giver of sage, fatherly advice. I always will love you, Japan.

Eyeball Baby Webcam [Rakuten] : Tokyo Mango