Wednesday, February 18, 2009
"Secrets of the Time War"
A rough draft of one part of a new scene to involve the "Gyroscope" and a few other things.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
"Premature Elucidation"
In case you haven't noticed I LOVE fractals......Also a small side note...I'm addicted to "Photocrack"....
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Thursday, February 5, 2009
Music Snobs Vs. Music Nazis....Whats The Difference???
I want to say from the strat....(I mean start, typed that by accident, though ironic given our subject matter) all of this should be taken lightly and comically. As a musician it could be argued that I know a little bit about this subject. I myself have very varied taste in music, it comes with the territory. But enough with the preliminary monkey shines and shenanigans.....time to get to the matter at hand....music snobs are funny; I tend to lean into this category between the two options mentioned. I can accept the fact if people want to listen to shitty, homogeneous and repetitive crap. That's their or your business. The big thing with me is I never really externalize this view; well...this one moment is an exception.
See...most snobs will make you feel shitty for listening to the music that you listen to and will talk down to you in a very condescending way, the key here is they will do it in a way that is NOT obvious, making you feels even worse, luring you into a false sense of security and baiting you into trying to defend your point of view. For some reason they feel because they listen to "hordes" of bands or "Ass-loads" of different styles of music, this means they "know" more. While I do COMPLETELY disagree with what is played on the major radio stations or what little music is played on TV, which in and of itself, should give you a clue into the state of contemporary popular music. I DON'T externalize my views. To paraphrase a popular quote about the 1st amendment....I may not like what you listen to but I'll defend your right to listen to it. If you wanna kill brain cells and torture those around you....be my guest.
Now our friends the "music Nazis" on the other hand are a breed most folks might not run into. They tend to be musicians, and from what I've noticed they take it easy on non-musicians. Probably a byproduct of feeling they "can't" defend themselves because...."oh shit, that’s right, you don't play". These folks, because they play an instrument, or many, feel this gives them the right to say from an OBJECTIVE point, that "Band A" sucks or "Band Q Squared" should give it up. And this is the main point....music is SUBJECTIVE. Nazi bastards always forget this and try to brainwash you into thinking "Band G Spot" is better than "Band Clitoris". They will argue a point on a subject matter that is subjective, and try to do it from a position of objectivity, like its fact and can be proven or disproven. These people also like to point out that "Musician or Band Clusterfuck" wrote "Song 12:34" therefore they're immortal gods from some other dimension. They do the same thing with musicians, quite concerned with who plays with whom, like high schools kids worried about whose fucking whom. Another thing is "Who" wrote "what" and "when" they did is very important to them as well...part of the myriad of complexes and neurosis these folks have.
In the end both these folks are of the same pod so to say...and by pod I mean pea pod...Snobs are more casual and less obvious, the Nazis of course are more up-front and quite hardcore. They also veer towards "Dick-Like" behaviour in situations and conversation other than music. If you know anyone one like the aforementioned, do them, yourself and all of us a favor....tell them to shut the fuck up! Please don't be afraid to use the term "Music Nazi", it’s a powerful tool that can be used to help these people see their destructive behaviour and maybe force them seek help. Remember.....friends don't let friends act like dicks.....or txt drunk! Let’s bring an end to this suffering.....
See...most snobs will make you feel shitty for listening to the music that you listen to and will talk down to you in a very condescending way, the key here is they will do it in a way that is NOT obvious, making you feels even worse, luring you into a false sense of security and baiting you into trying to defend your point of view. For some reason they feel because they listen to "hordes" of bands or "Ass-loads" of different styles of music, this means they "know" more. While I do COMPLETELY disagree with what is played on the major radio stations or what little music is played on TV, which in and of itself, should give you a clue into the state of contemporary popular music. I DON'T externalize my views. To paraphrase a popular quote about the 1st amendment....I may not like what you listen to but I'll defend your right to listen to it. If you wanna kill brain cells and torture those around you....be my guest.
Now our friends the "music Nazis" on the other hand are a breed most folks might not run into. They tend to be musicians, and from what I've noticed they take it easy on non-musicians. Probably a byproduct of feeling they "can't" defend themselves because...."oh shit, that’s right, you don't play". These folks, because they play an instrument, or many, feel this gives them the right to say from an OBJECTIVE point, that "Band A" sucks or "Band Q Squared" should give it up. And this is the main point....music is SUBJECTIVE. Nazi bastards always forget this and try to brainwash you into thinking "Band G Spot" is better than "Band Clitoris". They will argue a point on a subject matter that is subjective, and try to do it from a position of objectivity, like its fact and can be proven or disproven. These people also like to point out that "Musician or Band Clusterfuck" wrote "Song 12:34" therefore they're immortal gods from some other dimension. They do the same thing with musicians, quite concerned with who plays with whom, like high schools kids worried about whose fucking whom. Another thing is "Who" wrote "what" and "when" they did is very important to them as well...part of the myriad of complexes and neurosis these folks have.
In the end both these folks are of the same pod so to say...and by pod I mean pea pod...Snobs are more casual and less obvious, the Nazis of course are more up-front and quite hardcore. They also veer towards "Dick-Like" behaviour in situations and conversation other than music. If you know anyone one like the aforementioned, do them, yourself and all of us a favor....tell them to shut the fuck up! Please don't be afraid to use the term "Music Nazi", it’s a powerful tool that can be used to help these people see their destructive behaviour and maybe force them seek help. Remember.....friends don't let friends act like dicks.....or txt drunk! Let’s bring an end to this suffering.....
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
The Governing Dynamics Of Zero Ground Gravity Pt.2
-The echoes of the clock have spoken volumes
-Seconds with shadows, squirming and slithering
-All of the life you'll live is but an instant
-Can the whispers be seen?
-Will you hear them glancing at you?
-All of the life you'll live is but an instant
-What sense can be made of it?
-The realms of forever and the chambers of infinity
-All the things in this life you haven't seen
-All the things in this life you'll never see
-Are a fraction of an instant on the trail of eternity
-Where sunrise and sunset are the same
-Seconds with shadows, squirming and slithering
-All of the life you'll live is but an instant
-Can the whispers be seen?
-Will you hear them glancing at you?
-All of the life you'll live is but an instant
-What sense can be made of it?
-The realms of forever and the chambers of infinity
-All the things in this life you haven't seen
-All the things in this life you'll never see
-Are a fraction of an instant on the trail of eternity
-Where sunrise and sunset are the same
Monday, February 2, 2009
"Fractal Eye" Animation
This was a multi-part process that started in Fractal Explorer 2. This is where the basic eye shape was done. The next bit of processing was done in Project Dogwaffle; I added glowing effects as accents as well as the basis for what’s behind the eye. The next step involves everyone's favorite, Photoshop. I used some of those magical filters on the background and the eye as well. Next I dumped the whole series of pics into a morphing program which spat out a 1 second avi video, this was put on YouTube and then a special "command parameter" was added to the embedding code to make the video loop into infinity. Each pic used for the animation follows below....On a side note I'm really disappointed with the quality of the video, not sure what happened between when I made it and loaded it to YouTube.
"Fractal Eye"
The following is a series of variations of a "Fractal Eye". I can't decide which is my favorite and would be the lucky one to be presented to the public. So considering how cool each pic is, I'd thought presenting them in a series would be a good way to solve the problem.....
13
14
12
15
16
18
17
19
20
13
14
12
15
16
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20
Migration Of Dust In An Urban Apartment Pt. 1
The Christmas tree’s undulating toaster oven presided over manipulating Roger. When rainbow plaid fast pine cones judiciously came across his floundering peanut head, his breath held him cautious. Wondering why he chose to stop, he came across lint and dust. Not as he had known, but in a truly remarkable state. It was the migration of dust in an urban apartment.
The scent flowed, shaking obtuse corduroy angles as them, they, the the requested. We can’t get enough of the’s can we? Blaming the necessity for revenge to have its tantalizing tentacle extinguish warped senses of wood seams, it was at this point, Roger, the dust, and the tree were all on the same page. Which bothered the tree as one would imagine. For as big of a freak she was, page and the tree might be related. The newfound gravy wielding growing setbacks did not discourage the dust, at least not in this instance. As happenstance would have it, the bread in the toaster pondered propagating and getting in this mess, although trial and error were not her strong suits.
The aforementioned suits were the domain however, of our sly and clever friend dusting along. This above all else is what most concerned, not just Roger but the toaster as well. Who oddly was at odds with his freeloading companion, tanning herself mascara blackened blue. It was clear the tree trusted the bread the most, this was a source of snoring snot irritation for the bleeping tunnels AND their swank successor to the professor. By all accounts, the veil of silence held over them, was a testament to the moldy machinations of morons and varied inclinations. McScience, AKA Dr. Hot and Sexy, AKA Roger’s special teamer on the special yellow bus was thrilled, despite what the tree and the toaster thought. Yes McScience is psychic and yes McScience heard that crack about moldy morons. The irony did not escape Dr. Sexy, for Dr. Hot knew how close mold and dust were. This fact, the kinship of dust and mold, was forged during the time they shared during the war. The war of “Insert Name of War Here” always weighed heavily when bargaining with the toaster.
Those safe and reliable transactions are always the best aren’t they? Concluding pristine jiffy lube pop moments came with great care. For the enormity of the burden that was to be shared. It was at this time that, Roger came to realize the simplicity of those moments, the fan fair, the deadly wilderness that lies ahead. Disdain grew in the hearts of them all, this after conclusion took stock of the moment, it was her job to, this was her task, her charge, and it pleased her none too much. Failing to understand this was the end, consumerism fell to an all time low, but such things must happen, have happened and will once again. This cyclical occurrence is because of the tiniest of details……… Consumerism had a bad tendency to be unbelievably unaware of the things going on around him, clumsy would be a nice way of putting it, but I’m like the dust and the toaster……I’m not nice.
The scent flowed, shaking obtuse corduroy angles as them, they, the the requested. We can’t get enough of the’s can we? Blaming the necessity for revenge to have its tantalizing tentacle extinguish warped senses of wood seams, it was at this point, Roger, the dust, and the tree were all on the same page. Which bothered the tree as one would imagine. For as big of a freak she was, page and the tree might be related. The newfound gravy wielding growing setbacks did not discourage the dust, at least not in this instance. As happenstance would have it, the bread in the toaster pondered propagating and getting in this mess, although trial and error were not her strong suits.
The aforementioned suits were the domain however, of our sly and clever friend dusting along. This above all else is what most concerned, not just Roger but the toaster as well. Who oddly was at odds with his freeloading companion, tanning herself mascara blackened blue. It was clear the tree trusted the bread the most, this was a source of snoring snot irritation for the bleeping tunnels AND their swank successor to the professor. By all accounts, the veil of silence held over them, was a testament to the moldy machinations of morons and varied inclinations. McScience, AKA Dr. Hot and Sexy, AKA Roger’s special teamer on the special yellow bus was thrilled, despite what the tree and the toaster thought. Yes McScience is psychic and yes McScience heard that crack about moldy morons. The irony did not escape Dr. Sexy, for Dr. Hot knew how close mold and dust were. This fact, the kinship of dust and mold, was forged during the time they shared during the war. The war of “Insert Name of War Here” always weighed heavily when bargaining with the toaster.
Those safe and reliable transactions are always the best aren’t they? Concluding pristine jiffy lube pop moments came with great care. For the enormity of the burden that was to be shared. It was at this time that, Roger came to realize the simplicity of those moments, the fan fair, the deadly wilderness that lies ahead. Disdain grew in the hearts of them all, this after conclusion took stock of the moment, it was her job to, this was her task, her charge, and it pleased her none too much. Failing to understand this was the end, consumerism fell to an all time low, but such things must happen, have happened and will once again. This cyclical occurrence is because of the tiniest of details……… Consumerism had a bad tendency to be unbelievably unaware of the things going on around him, clumsy would be a nice way of putting it, but I’m like the dust and the toaster……I’m not nice.
The Medusa Cascade
-So far so near the range of sonar
-Casting liquid echoes like a dolphin
-Bouncing, entranced in his acrobatics
-Tumbling through the vast ocean playground
-Where everything is green and submarine
-Where crystal blue dreams seem serene
-Where reality shifts and sets you adrift
-Where higher glyphs communicate in symbols and strange dialects.
-So far so near the range of our sonar
-Cascading crest, pressed against the ocean floor
-Its shore line, a lime colored coral maze
-Filled with reefs and barriers unbreakable
-Under the belly of the sea of under me
-All that cannot tide you over till its unraveling
-Sacrilege, my insides are leaving me
-So far so near the range of sonar
-Spinning, spiraling into the abyss
-Dark mist shrouded in darkness
-Take the leap for the first time again and enter from within
-Where all become one, twice taking flight
-So far so near the range of our sonar
-We mirror images of
-Sonic light propels
-Waves and the vessels of, our souls
-On the heels and instep with ourselves
-Casting liquid echoes like a dolphin
-Bouncing, entranced in his acrobatics
-Tumbling through the vast ocean playground
-Where everything is green and submarine
-Where crystal blue dreams seem serene
-Where reality shifts and sets you adrift
-Where higher glyphs communicate in symbols and strange dialects.
-So far so near the range of our sonar
-Cascading crest, pressed against the ocean floor
-Its shore line, a lime colored coral maze
-Filled with reefs and barriers unbreakable
-Under the belly of the sea of under me
-All that cannot tide you over till its unraveling
-Sacrilege, my insides are leaving me
-So far so near the range of sonar
-Spinning, spiraling into the abyss
-Dark mist shrouded in darkness
-Take the leap for the first time again and enter from within
-Where all become one, twice taking flight
-So far so near the range of our sonar
-We mirror images of
-Sonic light propels
-Waves and the vessels of, our souls
-On the heels and instep with ourselves
Sunday, February 1, 2009
The Rorschach Test And The Dilemma Of Objectivity
Polyrhythmic metric modulation time changin' range to the left like a shortstop just shy of the right of the outsiders insight in flight with points of lightweight arrays far far arrays wait for the light to change into directional flight abstract astral cataracts blind your wisdom cause you lack the vision.
Polychromatic static clinging to the attic lights of my life are dimly lit up the downstairs basements flooded my brain while huddled in around the corner across the street near the parkway far away from assholes riding in cars with other assholes and manholes covered that bastards fast drying cast a show spells reverse woh’s for our backwards story.
Slicing sharply thru spotty liquid light laser beams to bait a borrowed fate inside the brain shell shocked to find her fight against flight grounded and in amazed and dazed…..she’ll never get out of straightjacket laces facing fractals turning facets faster schizophrenic sideways thoughts when I come thru the knot.
Compacted and injected into spaces between the air itself in gleams of life and light and sound. Catching night eyes in the stride neutral neutron stars in this trilogy of multiple dimensions on fireflies in jars of Kentucky jelly as it seems torn and déjà vu shook loose assembly of confusions illusions we must accept the whole package.
Polychromatic static clinging to the attic lights of my life are dimly lit up the downstairs basements flooded my brain while huddled in around the corner across the street near the parkway far away from assholes riding in cars with other assholes and manholes covered that bastards fast drying cast a show spells reverse woh’s for our backwards story.
Slicing sharply thru spotty liquid light laser beams to bait a borrowed fate inside the brain shell shocked to find her fight against flight grounded and in amazed and dazed…..she’ll never get out of straightjacket laces facing fractals turning facets faster schizophrenic sideways thoughts when I come thru the knot.
Compacted and injected into spaces between the air itself in gleams of life and light and sound. Catching night eyes in the stride neutral neutron stars in this trilogy of multiple dimensions on fireflies in jars of Kentucky jelly as it seems torn and déjà vu shook loose assembly of confusions illusions we must accept the whole package.
"Crystal Gyroscope"
The gyroscope and that weird blue ball(don't ask) were done in TrueSpace 6, the spirals were done in Project Dogwaffle and the whole thing was brought together in photoshop.....
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