Jesus! Vs Darwin!

jesus darwin
Jesus Christ
Positives: Impressive stamina. Historically known for taking a beating, staying on his feet. Has history of miraculous resurrection.
Negatives: Invented Pacifism. Dangerous habit of turning the other cheek.

Charles Darwin
Positives: Invented Natural Selection. Understands what’s at stake with “Survival of the Fittest”.
Negatives: Theology student, nearly became an Anglican parson. Mixed feelings punching his Lord’s Only Son and Savior in the face.

The Deaths Were Unexpected

the deaths

They hadn’t had a party in such a long time. So when the Deaths arrived, it was a singular embarrassment. Edna was mortified. “Who invited them,” she hissed. She yanked Harvey from his cigars and into the living room. “Look at them,” she exclaimed. “How did they get in here?” Harvey swore he did not let them in. Edna shook her finger under his nose, insisted he must have. “They’re always invited,” she chided. “They have to be.” He shook his head again no. “Well if you didn’t invite them, who-” Edna froze. Harvey always was a little dim, but when he saw the fear in her eyes, he knew it too.

When they reached Alice’s room, they could already hear voices. The Deaths were there, sitting on the bed, talking to her. Harvey puffed his chest, pulled on his belt and demanded they leave. “It’s ok, Daddy,” Alice whispered. Mrs. Death was holding her hand, just below the IV. “Alice honey,” Edna pleaded. “They aren’t supposed to be here. You aren’t supposed to talk to them.” Alice tried to say something, but she had to catch her breath. After a while, she spoke. “I want to talk to them,” she whispered. Edna felt Harvey’s hand clasp hers. “They’re supposed to be here now,” Alice said. “I invited them.”

Edna and Harvey each kissed Alice. Mrs. Death told Edna she thought it was a wonderful party. Harvey closed the door behind them. They stood silently in the hall, until the conversation was too quiet to hear, and wept.

It’s Not The Fall

parkour

Down to three fingers on his left hand. The ledge was barely wide to his first knuckle, and still slick from the morning’s rain. The right hand slip swung his body out, and he knew if he tried to find grip with his foot, a fail would push his fingers right off. He had to trust his fingers, look for the next position.

When the slip came, he was ready. His body facing the opposite wall, dropped half a meter, his foot caught on the next lip. He absorbed the motion and pushed off with everything he had. The alley was ten meters wide, maybe fifteen, almost impossible even for him. But the ground was over one hundred meters below, definitely impossible.

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Beginner’s Bible Coloring Book

jesus dino
Dad, did dinosaurs really exist?
Sure they did, son. The Bible says so. They didn’t call them “dinosaurs” back then, but instead they were known as “leviathans” or “behemoths”.
But, my science teacher says dinosaurs lived millions of years ago. Is that true?
Of course not, son.
Then how old are they?
Well, let’s see. The Bible tells us [from Adam and Eve’s family tree] that the Universe is only a few thousand years old. So dinosaurs had to have lived within the past few thousand years. That’s simple logic, son.
Oh. So that means they were on Noah’s Ark?
Absolutely! The Bible says two of every animal were brought [by God] to the ark. Dinosaurs were animals. So, using your logic again son, dinosaurs had to be on the ark.
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Cthulhu-Penguin is near

ctrhulu pengion

Cthulhu was from the other place, the dark place. It was the demon that demons feared, a god before gods were. A pulpy, tentacled grotesque, it devoured worlds and realities with a malignant hunger. Cthulhu was beyond scale and measures, willing to take any shape, inhabit any flesh vessel to feed. When it found such an opening, a tiny fissure between realities, it surged through with terrible, maddening speed.

And then promptly fell over.

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Holly’s Hobby

hollys hobby

She felt her knuckle dislocate. Some of her ribs were cracked, or broken. A few of her teeth loosened, her jaw was on fire, and something not good was going on with her eye. Didn’t matter, she thought; almost done. The man beneath her had stopped struggling, a wet mess where his face once was. She hit him again anyway.

The second man lay, near fetal, in the bushes by the car. A low choking gurgle came from something, not his mouth. She would tell the police that she remembered nothing. They had slipped her something, she would say, and it made her black out. Her friends and family, she would tell them the same thing. After the bar, it was a complete blank.

Of course she would remember. She always remembered.

See No Evil: Magical Realist

bush

[September 21, 2005]
PLEASE READ: Important Message From Chief Of Staff’s Office
SUBJ: POTUS “God Goggles”

POTUS did it <i>again</i>. This time in front of the White House Press Pool, just prior to Thursday’s press conference. Fortunately press pool ignored it, as usual. But if POTUS did it IN CAMERA we’d be in a world of hurt. The need is URGENT to retrain POTUS against the goggles. he can <i>talk</i> about talking to God, but he has to stop demonstrating how he does it.

Strategy session at 9:00 am for team effort moving forward.

Andrew Card
White House Chief of Staff

[CC: Karl, Dick, Condi, Scott, Donald, Alberto, Laura, Barney]

‘65 Volvo Amazon 4-door, $2,300,500 (firm)

space car

Reliable beauty, lots of personality. Original interior (no seriously!). rebuilt oxygen generator, back seat doubles as cryo-sleep unit for long hauls. Originally in-atmo only, she was converted to trans-galactic flight mid 22nd century. Technically still planet-capable, depending on atmo density. But I wouldn’t recommend re-entry before getting the belly plates checked out (she’s been deep space only for last century point five.) Minor micro-meteorite damage on trunk, manual overdrive sticks sometimes at 3x translight.

Nav system is old school voice activated, only answers to “Beverley”, or “Bev”. Which is weird, because it wasn’t programmed for that. Like I said, lots of personality. Price is firm, but some wiggle to right owner. She wants to fly.

Casual Murder

crow korea

What’s happening in North Korea is insane. So few people seem to understand the truly dystopian nightmare its people have endured for decades. They don’t need high-tech NSA type surveillance, through old fashioned fear and paranoia they have instead created a massive self-policing state that far exceeds anything Orwell could have imagined. If someone speaks ill of anything, even something simple like low food rations, they could be reported by a neighbor or friend. It is illegal to even sing songs from South Korea, and doing so can brand them as an enemy of the state. There is a constant fear that if anyone see someone else violating any rule, it is a loyalty test and if you fail to report it then you will be the one arrested. Thus the perfect self-police state.

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Hellboy: Highly Collectible

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“These were in the trash! Did you throw these away?”

“Yes, I thought the intern left them when he.. wait. Are these yours?

“Of course they’re mine!”

“But.. they’re all Hellboy. Just Hellboy.”

“Not JUST Hellboy, they’re highly collectible. And all different. This one is based on the comic book. This one is 1/6th scale and super realistic. And this one.. damnit. This one WAS a bobble-head. Now there’s no head. I hope you’re happy, this was a limited edition!”

“Fine, I’m sorry! How was I supposed to know? I’ll go through the trash and try to find your bobble-head.. head. Geez. I swear Hellboy, you are by far the strangest partner I’ve ever had.”

It was supposed to be dark

batman adam west

They had playwrights. They had playwrights and novelists lined up to write the scripts. They planned to reveal a hopeless gotham dystopia awash in the throes of a never-ending crime wave. Villains so terrible, so exceptional, that only an exceptional and terrible anti-hero could fight them. It was going to be like nothing ever seen on television, challenging, groundbreaking.
 
They found an actor, suave and handsome, had a real edge. His voice was an engine at full rev, power barely held in check. He was a playboy and a cad, and rumors swirled he would be the next 007. He was the embodiment of their vision, a bored socialite forced by circumstance to fight for the life and soul of a city. They were set to make drama, to make history.
 
And then he put on the suit.
 
 

Double Feature: The Omen vs Jaws

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“You’re going to need a bigger kid,” the Amity sheriff said, watching Damien play with the deputy’s german shepherd.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” the Pentagon suit replied. “You may want to keep him away from the dog, though.”

“So what are you going to do,” the sheriff asked. “We don’t even know how to find this shark.”

“We just drop him in the water,” the suit replied. “He takes care of it.”

“Just like that?”

“Yep. Worked for Syria, “ the suit said, a tremble catching in his voice. “Ok Damien, you’re up. Get your water wings on, you’re going swimming.” The suit guided him to the helicopter, noticeably staying out of reach. Damien smiled.

Back on the dock, the deputy searched for his dog.

Former Pig Farmer

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The hardest part was directional motivation.

Some guys could afford real lifters. Silas heard they had a pack of elephants at the McCallister ranch, a whole pack. Over at the Triple T they rolled with ostrich and zebras, and there was a rancher Silas saw fly over once, maybe from the next county over, had himself a hippo. With a whole hippo Silas could fly all day, so high people would just be ants.

Silas couldn’t afford all them fancy animals, but that didn’t stop him. Little creativity, lot of zip ties, and he could go just as high as the rest.

Higher sometimes, with the right directional motivation.

Anger Managed

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They stole our children, took our babies in the night, and laughed at us. These animals, these pigs, they all deserve to die. For taking our children they will be crushed and dismembered and beaten until dead. No one will help us, we seek revenge alone. We are destruction and rage, we are death. This game rated E for Everyone.

Ol’ Bess

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Heck of a thing, Ol’ Bess just showed up one day, hovering low by the barn. She was tired, hungry. Didn’t eat solid food like the other sharks, wasn’t built for it. Eugene strapped Gus’ old saddle on her, gingerly climbed on, and led her out across the pasture. She took to the bridle right off, barely needed a tug to move her around.
 
Some industrial pig farms were just over the road, their waste ponds always covered in skeeters and other bugs. Before long she figured out how to scoop ‘em up right out of the air, and after a few trips she could find the ponds herself, had all she could eat when she needed. Eugene figured that’d be the end of it, she’d be off, no more Bess. But as the months passed she kept on, happy to go on long rides or just float around with the goats. Heck of a thing.

In the Land of Terrible Dreams

nemo

Nemo had a dreadful sense that this dream was different. Instead of a gently surreal journey to Slumberland, he saw something he feared was of his own future, and it frightened him terribly. He encountered a seascape of adventure to be sure, but also great destruction, tragedy and death.
 
Then he awoke, as he always did. But this time there would be no consoling him, no escape from the haunting visions. Nemo refused to sleep after that night, throwing his mother and father into a panic, sending for this doctor and that. After many days of decline, they feared he would perish of this mysterious affliction. They may have been right, except for that first fateful pre-dawn day of Autumn, when the knock at the door came.
 
And the only person awake in the house to answer, was Nemo.

Double Feature

birds up

The Star Warriors. 
Fast Times at Airplane!

Drive-in Projectionist already wasn’t rocket science. Movies came in six reels, there were two projectors, when one reel was done you just had to time it right to close down the one and bring up the other. But then they put the platters in. Big flat wheels where all six reels would get assembled then fed into a projector. No more timing, no more switching. Just start the movie and go nap till it was done.
 
Alien: The Extra Terrestrial. 
Tootsie Driver.
 
Ray’s job wasn’t hardly a job no more. The hardest part was sitting through the whole platter to make sure he put it together in the right order. And if there were double features he’d be stuck watching both movies till almost dawn. To speed things up, Ray took to playing the movies on both projectors at the same time. Then he’d switch back and forth and get through both movies in half the time. After a while he started switching more often, playing a scene in one movie then mashing it with a scene from the other.
 
Logan’s Blade Runner. 
Close Encounters of the Lost Ark.
 
Word got around that there were late late night screenings of strange movies. Kids would sneak in, just sit on the dirt with the speakers in their laps. Each weekend more kids would come. They would make up movie names, bring ice chests, and cheer Ray’s knack for smashing scenes together.
 
The Thing of Endearment
Flash Gordon Strikes Back.
 
It seemed like forever, but it was only that one Summer. In the fall the town’s first video store opened, and the drive-in shuttered by the next winter. No one knew what happened to Ray, some say he went to hollywood to make movies. Others say he made wind sculptures in the woods for new age tourists.
 
But they’ll always remember that summer. The summer of movies that never were.

Rules of Engagement

tree burning

I was asked recently why I don’t do more autobiographical art, as if that’s something an artist is required to do. I found this sketch unfinished and since it was pretty close to something that actually happened I decided to complete it. I told my friend this was from the time I, with full intent and malice, burnt down the just finished neighborhood treehouse because the older kids (whose property it was on) wouldn't let the younger kids (who helped build it) play in it. I watched it burn to the ground, then volunteered to help the firefighters put the last embers out with their water cans, to deflect suspicion. I was seven.
 
My friend now understands why I don’t do more autobiographical art.

Another Day

hippo cowboy

 
The alarm came on slow, from quiet to loud, until Frank couldn’t ignore the yelling radio mouths anymore. He dragged himself out of bed, shuffled to the bathroom to empty bladder, went to kitchen to make coffee. Out of coffee. Forgot the drawbridge went up thirty minutes early, would definitely be stuck in traffic. Air conditioning broken at work, he sweat through his shirt before lunch. No taco truck today, had to eat out of the vending machine. The ancient sandwich tasted like grass.
 
Frank woke with a jolt, realized he dozed off while eating. He looked around the barn, relieved everything was how he left it. Even the dry hay and damned scratchy saddle felt good compared to that nightmare.