13 Stories, Forbidden Tales of the impending Apocalypse

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics

In even the most pessimistic of tales, therein lies the brilliance of hope. For the act of putting pen unto paper is expressively optimistic, presenting others an opportunity to grow. That being said, I made a goal for myself to create 13 short illustrated stories before this upcoming New Year. I’d no real intention towards developing such nasty and hopeless fables as I did, in fact I’d no inclination towards writing anything at all,  it just sort of happened. Having abandoned street art performances as a means of promotion/communication in favor of working online and with arts councils & committees, I discovered a sudden and urgent dependency on the written word (stumbling through these poorly conveyed thoughts it’s a wonder I’ve survived this long!).

At first this meant endless hours of essay writings attempting to explain myself and persuade investors or patrons to give me money. That got boring but I knew my writing needed a lot of work so I started making things up. I decided to practice writing the same way tht I approach the development of visual artworks and decided on a series of 13 stories which, theoretically, could be compiled as a print publication. The process then involved a lot of sketching, unedited writing done directly in this blog. After a while some of the stories sort of stuck with me so I’d proceed to do drawings and prepare them for the “online book”. I went through a number of my drafts this evening and think I’ve all the shorts sorted now. Very early this January I’m going to take a few days to edit the h—l out of them and post all the work in it’s intended  format. Inspired by the prospects of completing this little experiment I laid down a quick pen and ink illuminated text drawing and a couple of weird faces (above). The rest of my day was spent working on animation stills and thinking about the “City of Gears” cartoon show pitch.
Here's an index/blurbs of the 13 stories:

1) SEEDS A commercial traveler searches the world over for new and marketable anomalies. His investigation eventually leads to a tribal village hidden deep within the jungles of Africa. Here he learns of secret vegetations capable of unimaginable feats. The discovery may prove enormously profitable, but can these surreal vines be safely transplanted back in the City of Gears?


2) THE ELEVATED CITY A sociological imperative to exist beyond earths’s capabilities has driven the soil barren and left the air void and toxically malodorous. In our infinite brilliance, man has moved upwards, away from his mess, developing a new architecture sprawling heaven bound. Levels upon levels of strange apartment communities annihilate the skyline as the sun fades into myth and nature is a forgotten word.

3) A TALE OF TWO TREES As the all encompassing MAKINGLIFEPERFECT Corp. reaches new scientific heights, useless and manipulatively destructive lifestyles rein supreme. However the industrial success has attracted unexpected enemies. Hear the cries of nature for two trees have assimilated a mechanical foliage battle armor in order to survive these terrifying technological times!

4) A SHOPPING SPREE NIGHTMARE A Surreal shopping spree incites strange nightmare visions of an amorphous globular macroverse. Enthusiatically overwhelmed, an unsuspecting shopper engaged in a world of unobtainable satisfactions becomes psychically imprisoned in a sanatorium padded with buyer's remorse!

5) BRIDE OF THE WORKHORSE An unusually surreal comics adventure involving a genetically modified centaur romancing a artificially ameliorated runway model. Can the fated love affair consummate or will mechanical deviations consume the once illuminated passion? Another strange and unrealistic interpretation of the way things actually are.

6) SHADOWS A young artist experimenting with shadow and light accidentally unleashes insidious creatures of the night. Are these nightmarish forms a merely imaginary brushstrokes or has the painter depicted something far worse?


7) THE AMORPHOUS GLOB MACROVERSE An apparently insignificant opaque puddle spilt in the night malignantly mutates proceeding to commit horrific telepathic invasions. The irregular and intrusive messages sent from the glob, reveal the most damnable and unforgettable of all unwanted insights, agonies and revealing reflections.

8) FASHION SHOW NIGHTMARE A Fashion shoot turns monster as the latest trends reveal mutilated depravity, terrifying trims, and people turned inside out. A step by step must read for all young upstarts entering the fashion business!


9) DIARIES OF A DEAD MAN An excerpt from an anonymous diarist regarding an extraordinary and hallucinogenic experience as a devout atheist witnesses firsthand the power of the almighty. A frightening account of religious awakening and the prowess of true faith.

10) NOTHING MATTERS An aging litterateur reaches an inexplicable enlightenment through a life time of meditative studies. Having finally read all there is to read and written his dissertations, the man becomes ill and for the first time, realizes how lonely it actually is inside the old and extravagant library.

11) THE BRAIN WORM THING Following an exclusive invitation a skeptical consumer attend the unveiling of an intriguing new digital breakthrough. The MAKING TECH PERFECT company is introducing the worlds smallest, most advanced and intelligent, virtual serfing technology. But will this new device impress our disgruntled protagonist or simply turn out to be another scam.

12) ANDROID MAN In the span of a few short weeks a successful landscape painter finds his business and his life going digital. With the aid of modern computers the artist rises to fame and fortune discovering, piece by piece, that he no longer needs his paints or even the landscapes he once rendered.

13) AFTER THE HARVEST Surreal Aliens invade earth only to question whether or not our planet is fit for assimilation! What will these beings make of mankind and what are their diabolical plans for earth’s future? Beware, these extraterrestrial vegetations having been plotting for millennia from way-outer space to the skyscraper skylines of our monstrous metropolis!

Just made this as a personal checklist but it's kind of interesting so why not share. I didn't actually "finish" all these but I do have at least solid 1st drafts and artwork  for every one. A few of them have been polished but I am happy that I got 13 of them done, I've had so many more important ( less amusing/ more lucrative) things to do over the past 10 months. Lot's of editing and more than likely a few new fables before I try to put the whole thing together proper like. See more work Heyapathy!

Thirteen Stories, forbidden tales of the apocalypse

HEY APATHY! Independent Comics and Art

A plant has attacked a corporate office, a mad scientist and his twin assistants have set about replacing people of varied societal positions, a centaur is still chasing the supermodel, amorphous nightmares runs rampant through the streets and the city of gears spins on! The past year has been, well different, but it always is. One of the most significant of these “differences” has been my dedicated, though feeble, attempts at writing stories. As a street artist, 2004-2008, I had little use for the written word managing all my interactions verbally and with an experienced eye for unspoken communications. The streets are all about the eyes and body language which I would then perceive and create a verbal approach accordingly. Around the fall of 2009 I started building a website and all of a sudden there were none of these options forcing me to use the only means available for online communication, words.

I made a number of failed attempts at essays and descriptions for my site but found the work overwhelming, scattered and ultimately poor. I put that project on hold and started with something smaller, little blog blurbs, but on a daily basis. I made sure to do about 200 words everyday and started working with little structures. I’d do 100 words on the story in the art, and 100 on the story behind the processes. Soon the word count doubled, and while still not satisfied with the finished paragraphs, the ordeal slowly became easier and was soon a regular in my daily routines.

Prior to this it must have been 10 years and the only writing I’d done was papers for an art school. Nevertheless what choice did I have? On Tuesday April 12, I ran out of things to say and started making things up. At this time I’d never actually written, or properly considered writing, a stories with words. When I “write” graphic novels I do so directly with the ink on paper. They are basically composed like silent films and the dialogue/text are the last thing on my mind. Animations are made the same way, I just make it up as I go along. Telling the stories on the streets is again, entirely contradictory to the written version. For example I can change my choice of words on the spot depending on the demographic of the viewer. You can’t do that online or in printed text.

The process of making things up proved immediately gratifying. Although I have been putting a some efforts into producing drawings this year, my primary focus has been on developing new animations. These things take for ever and you don’t really get to think about the narrative developments because so much attention I required for every 2/22 seconds of the film. Basically in the same time it takes to illustrated a single panel artwork telling a world of stories, the animation might only get the characters from one scene to the next (if I draw fast). Knowing full well that I can’t make animations and comics at the same time, the written stories really fulfilled a need to produce ideas rapidly while engrossed in such a technical process.

So I decided to write 13 stories with illustrations to use on my site. I think there are 7 posted and few more hanging around the blog. I maybe only edited 2 of them properly but I won’t start inserting scolding coat hangers in the veins beneath my toenails if that doesn’t happen before the new year. If I can get all thirteen ideas into pages, I’ll be satisfied for now. I’d love to see the work published in a little black hardcover entitled “Thirteen Stories, forbidden tales of the apocalypse” or something like that.

WEEKLY WEBCOMICS

Eyes in the Sky - Diaries of a Dead Man

HEY APATHY! Pen & InkDrawings

Though my limbs continue to sway, it is only the conglomeration of larvae and vermin scurrying beneath my flesh which keep this body in motion. Once a young and hope filled enthusiast, I threw myself into a world of optimistic activism. In this world every action, thought and deed was designed to satisfy an overwhelming concern and impulsive revolt which had permeated throughout my logic. I couldn’t understand existence but could see how a few simple changes, like a strategic twist of a rubix’s cube, would bring the whole thing together. So I fought the good fight in every respect. From the simplest of gestures to the most elaborate of affairs every move I ever made was a plea for change and an educated attempt to incite such occurrences.


For years my struggles went unimpeded. Each new season brought new success and the movement I’d become a part of grew stronger. Although at this point I see little reason in preaching of the various methods and means through which we’d achieved such successes, I will mention that the numerous enterprises involved had assimilated many of the techniques invented by our consumerist opponents. We had discovered a means of production and promotion equally as profitable yet completely void of all the manipulative and damaging aspects associated with commercial ventures. Absolutely no hazardous materials, inhumane labor conditions or corrosive advertising were ever implemented yet still our products flourished. As a result the project began to attract attention from a multitude of investor’s, producers, agents, Hollywood stars, writers and critics. A mainstream breakthrough was undoubtedly on our horizon. However time and again, the outside interests proved detrimental, forcing us to abandon seemingly endless avenues of opportunity to avoid the risk of turning into the very thing we despised.


All of this, of course, was to be expected and frustrated us little. We’d been fortunate enough to find smaller opportunities in abundance and were never truly tempted by manufactured success. Do not misunderstand this, for our mission depends on mass communication and every possibility was examined to the fullest. However at the first hint of corruption all negotiations ceased. It was through this process that we were able to discover many people in favorable positions who were not only willing to assist, but truly believed in the cause. So it stood that, around the winter of my fifth year in the organization, things were going according to both or plans and ambitions.


It was a late November evening that I decided to go for a stroll. I had completed a lucrative summer schedule and was nearly prepared for the upcoming winter event. This “event” through not necessarily crucial, was definitely a pinnacle accomplishment in the progression of my work. I was confident and pleased, knowing full well the potential advancements that this particular project might incite. It was by far the most intricate and intelligibly developed of all our attempts. I felt a plausibly invincible and had little fear of any complications. As I wandered the streets filled with decorative lights and shopping hordes, a sudden tingling inspiration struck me not unlike a mild euphoric shock. .All of the hairs on my neck stood up in attention as I stood on the walkway in unexplicable awe and excitement.




Now before I continue it is important to understand a little more about my personal beliefs. I am not a spiritual or religious person in any right. I do not believe in the supernatural, fate, unicorns, honest politicians, Santa Claus or pop music. In fact it has been a particular devotion to logic and reason which has propelled this mission to unfathomable heights. Yes, the things I have been striving for are not unlike those taught with such emptiness by people who claim to be godly (or in the service of deities by any other name). However those of us involved are motivated only by the world we live in, the quality of life and our children, not by any other worldly rewards or punishments.



So there I was a devout atheist, anti-spiritualist, ultimate-realist with little imagination for intangible apparitions, standing in the middle of a glistening windy metropolitan street. Struck by this inspiration, I looked up to the sky and impulsively posed a question unlike any I’d ever considered before. My thoughts ran as thus “If there is something out there watching over us, whatever you are, I wanted to say that this place is a real mess. I’ve done my best to fix things down here and well if you give me a voice I will use it to help.”




I didn’t have time to analyze the absurdity of my thoughts before the sky opened up strange above me. There, as if superimposed between the opaque clouds and glossy sky, appeared two giant red eyes. They were not those of a feline or serpent, but they were not human either. The eyes closed and faded instantly, almost as if I never saw them. Yet in that brief second the mocking glance had, like all eyes do everywhere, told me a story. The eyes were laughing and had said something like ‘boy have you got it wrong, this is not a world for those who’d help, this is the playground of evil. As long as you follow the subservient laws, you are destined to a life of suffering and torture.” I couldn’t hear, nor visualize the castrating cachinnation bellowed by the beast but believe me I felt it. Beyond embarrassment, beyond humiliation, beyond hope, it was like starring in the mirror only to realize that you don’t look anything like you did in any of your dreams or memories.




I tried to put the experience aside and thought very little of it at the time. Even to this day I believe the vision was nothing more than an idle thought which found it’s profanity in my excited exhaustion. Not even for a moment have I accepted the hallucination for anything more than that, yet something terrible has been growing inside me ever since that weird walk. At first it manifested quite slowly like some terribly acidic consumption easily mistakable as some physical ailment. However this repulsive hollowness thwarting my innards soon spread throughout my veins. The perpetually evolving sensation now inhibits my entire being.





A record snowstorm hit the city shortly after the aforementioned incident. This terrible storm hit hard annihilating our winter event. Not only did the snow shun our attendance and shut our doors, but an accident involving several of our transport trucks all but destroyed any hope quick recovery. The winter that followed was plagued by destitution and the mission failed to progress until late the next spring. By that time I was able to recoup to some extent, but had become restrictively ill after a long and poverty stricken winter.



To make matters worse another company moved in on our market, only they were not doing it right. Though they had plagiarized our public appearance and boasted our ideologies for promotional purposes, the competitors were still producing products in an unredeemable fashion. In essence they had staked a claim to all of our innovations but were in fact still selling cheap sweatshop plastics. Before long that company started exploiting the corporate and media relations we had been forced to reject. Within a matter of minutes they had risen to international acclaim using our titles and image whilst belittling all our ideals. Broken by fatigue and corrupted by a despairing stomach I began to lose initiative and shortly thereafter resigned from the revolt.





I’ve spent years now wandering and the world seems perpetually worse. All of the different old buildings are gone and the new ones appearing are organized. I can no longer stomach the sound of new music and even in starvation I can’t find anything of value to eat. Sometimes I muster enough energy to read, but here there is nothing that can rekindle my once passionate pursuits. No, despite all my efforts and foremost ideas, the wound inflicted upon me that November night was a fatal one. My life ended there and then. Still the maggots and rats push me about and around; feeding on meats and seasoned remorse, but do not let these movements fool you, I am merely a staggering carcass. These routines, my remains, all the ruins, are nothing except fitting, for this is truly the world of dead men.





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Alternative Comics Another day at the public office...

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics!

Just finished up another Toronto Outdoor Art Exhibition. The show was a bit slower than previous years as we lost Friday to rain, had to compete with the World Cup final and quite simply that tourists don’t come to T.O. anymore. Having said all that I still had a great time and met hundreds of people and nearly talked my head off. The highlight, as I mentioned yesterday, was meeting all the kids and it was nice to see people from Queen street and new faces as well. Oddly enough I only sold one painting but the comics, prints and t-shirts put me on par with the success of other years. I consider this a real accomplishment because it takes a lot of small sales to make the kind of money one get’s for original artwork, but in the end I did well and was really excited to be moving the books. Many people were really excited to get a copy of my third comic despite the fact they had already read the first two. Anyways the story that sticks out most in mind is my conversations with Braiden, one of the neighbourhood kids. Braiden used to come and see me at least once a week out on Queen street when I was still there regularly performing on the streets. I put him and his dad on the back cover page of HEY APATHY! Book Two and gave it to them a few weeks ago at the comic convention. He was really excited but had a small request. “Put me in a comic!” asked the little crazy kid. “You are in the comic” I replied and showed him the picture again and he said “ I know about that, but I want to be inside the comic!” I laughed but totally understood what he was saying and we spent about a half hour going through my sketchbook together. I love the public festivals and all the unique experiences but it’s back to work in the studio tomorrow and on with the animations… more at http://www.heyapathy-comics-art.com/

ALTERNATIVE COMICS The Billboards and the Violinist

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics

The city is a giant gear propelled by all the strange people moving through it. On the right a large female model is trapped on the face of a towering commercial skyscraper, her billboard belly partially assimilates and annihilates young women by way of a subliminal force. The ominously flickering screen engulfs the mind and bodies of it’s victims intrinsically drawn into a vortex of unobtainable dreams. The gears spins on. Fortunately one potential target has developed an immunity to the advertisements prowess, in a small apartment on the left a girl is learning to play the violin. The music, read from alchemic notations, surrounds her with an indescribably majesty protecting her from the devious destruction of the world and chaos all around… more at http://www.heyapathy-comics-art.com/

ALTERNATIVE COMICS A Heroic Assimilation

HEY APATHY! Alternative comics

Flicker, flicker, the gigantic screen transmits sublimated imagery faster than a speeding bullet. The repetitive yet ever so slight evolution of the messages bombards our homes, the streets and the theatre offering us heroic salvation with each flashing new scene. The superhuman, having arrived from a far off star , brings promise of hope and freedom as he expends his supernatural abilities in the name of justice. As his presence brings joy to the world with each new adventure, the attention mounts tensely and all eyes turn towards the alien.

 At first he was publicized as an enigma, and shortly thereafter mimicked, but despite all his triumphs the man receives no solitude. He had devised a secret home far from civilization but the documentary crew sought it out for use as a stage. Forced to reside in among men of the city, the hero falls upon financial hardship. The monetary rewards for the dispersion of evil were few and far between until the sponsors stepped in. Running shoes, capes, band aids and ice packs and any and every other product under the sun would come to bear his likeness and dignified symbol until the media madness began to take it’s toll. After missing the opportunity to thwart a fascist power due to a photo-op worth millions the hero underwent an alarming change. Realizing that his battles proved far less profitable and that the villainous regime was disempowered just the same, the alien turned towards more commercial endeavours all but forsaking his predestined quest.

Over the course of a few months, several movies and commercials, the alien became fixated on a cola he’d endorsed. Supplied with a life time quantity the hero proceeded to devour first two, then three and as many as twelve cans per day. Oddly enough the reasonably harmless cola churned malice and addiction against the unusual extraterrestrials DNA. At first the consumption resulted in malaise but soon ate away at the soldier’s physique. His skin peeled off in a leprous fashion and his skeleton underwent painful malformations. His abilities subsided as did his will until there was nothing left of the once glorious figure but a zombie-like core. Fortunately for the corporations which proffered him wealth his deformations remain a secret to this very day and no one seems to miss the champion of the future because severak younger and palatable actors have filled his place.

more strange stories at http://www.heyapathy-comics-art.com/

ALTERNATIVE COMICS Web Comics and Stories

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics

 

HEY APATHY! Is an ongoing artistic investigation into the metropolis, the monsters, people and the mechanics of being. In the earliest artworks the city is announced as an ominous gear spun by an endless sea of faceless denizens. . Since that time I have executed an unconventional interview using street art and public interactions to uncover the true nature of the urban landscape. The online catalogue follows my seven year quest featuring illustrations, comics, murals, performances and animation strung together as a narrative adventure. As a result of my experiments the story of the gear has grown and changed much. Today the metropolis is still rendered as a giant machine, only now it is all the different characters, not anonymous cogs, who fuel the machine!

MONSTER COMICS is a web comic following my misadventures on a freelance assignment for a strange mystic named Weird Blackbeard. Blackbeard is a patron of the arts knowledgeable of all things unusual who commissioned me to do some surreal portraits early last year. The job proved extraordinary nearly costing me life, limb and possession but it was worth the fiasco to get all these cool drawings….

SURREAL COMICS is a collection of illustrated stories and correlated strips featuring tales of the unknown. Morphologically relevant satirical dreams regarding alien encounters, distorted monsters and the sudden appearance of rooms which should not be.

ALTERNATIVE COMICS Street Art Chronology 2005-06 part 4

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics EYEBALL CITY

Believe it or not the 2005 season never actually came to a close for me. The winter was mild by all comparison and virtually non-existent by Canadian standards. I had moved up and out of various shared accommodations and rented a large studio apartment in Kensington Market. Though the summer had been a lucrative one I had no real plans for continued business or exhibition during the winter season and found my self continually hitting the streets all the way through to the spring. The weather stayed above 5 degrees Celsius, dry, windless and sunny so I bundled up good and remained one of few vendors on the beat. Despite the long months made of short brisk days, I continued to earn enough to keep the ship afloat.

I had a lot of help through out that season as many repeat patrons purchased work primarily for my benefit. One incredible patron returned on a weekly basis purchasing 10 sketches a week until he’d collected a full hundred. The street life was unusual and the tourism and shopping was scarce and I ended up fraternizing with various street people. It was a totally different world out there yet a worthwhile adventure as I braved the cold weather and learned more things than I’d hoped. I actually saw the sun get lower in the sky and by judging the length of the shadows I knew when it had risen again to lengthen the days. There is something strange and meditative about spending an entire year observing the world from a single location. I experienced a truly unique vantage of the metropolis’ cycles. A February came and slowly passed by my pens finally froze and I was forced to scribble with markers. However at the onset of March and close to my submission, the temperature starting rising and it was as if winter hadn’t come at all.

The early spring brought about a seasonally impressive March Break and the streets were filled once again with large crowds. During the holiday I started performing again and set forth to create 3 large scale ink murals. The first drawing I made featured the ominous EYEBALL CITY featuring the gear themes with an optically twist. I had already hypothesized the metropolis as a giant machine propelled by all of it’s denizens only now it was centrifugally spinning around the eyeball of consciousness, a psychedelic representation of human hope and shared dreams.

The second large illustration depicted the grotesque CITY MONSTER, an enormous creature made up of all the cars, wires, building and people personifying the power the urban atrocities. I remember blasting the John Coltrane Village Vanguard records while painting when a father and son stopped to watch while the rest of their family was shopping. The Dad was leaning on a rail near my display when I heard him say to his son “This street is cool!” They both had a glow about them which told me how much they were enjoying the experience so I looked up and down the road to see what they meant. There wasn’t anything anywhere, no people, no vendors just me, the monster, and Mr. Coltrane.

The third drawing of the spring holiday was supposed to be something I’d decided on but have since totally forgot. As I stood up to attack the big. piece of paper before a gathering crowd my knee struck my ink container sending a black pool across the page. Without hesitation I jumped into the ink stained mess and started scratching away. The image ended up being another CITY MONSTER vomiting up a black tar. The accidental inspiration proved inspirationally gratifying and the drawing was sold later out of my studio at a high end gallery price to someone who had witnessed my salvaging of the nearly ruined performance drawing. Each of these three monster comics murals measured 10 x 10 feet and were drawn with black India ink, brushes and bamboo. The first two creations took three days each to complete while the third accidental drawing was done in a day. I’ll never forget all the people I met and especially the endless sea of young vacationing students. That March Break Holiday was incredible and incredibly busy as it was the only one during my entire lifetime to be blessed with such fine weather. continued tomorrow

 

more at http://www.heyapathy-comics-art.com/

ALTERNATIVE COMICS Street Art Chronology Stories from 2005 part 2

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics STREET ART Chronology

The street season of 2005 pushed my artworks and presentation techniques in all sorts of new and innovative directions. In the earlier part of the season I switched from using my hand carved bamboo pen to using a brush. At first this transition was primarily for filling in large black areas, but the swift fluidity of the brush soon replaced the pen for all of the work. This new instrument permitted me to make faster and larger drawings which were much more exciting for the audience to watch. I also started producing small framed artwork which were simultaneously more marketable and the perfect paper weights to prevent my drawings from blowing down the road. The artworks steadily grew in speed intricacy and size so that by the end of the summer I was using up about 20 x 12 feet worth of the city block.

The first day of live painting (described earlier in yesterday's post) included some bamboo pig heads, monsters and robots. The poster sized artworks each featured a single character and were made entirely with the clumsy bamboo pens. All of these drawings, although unique depictions, were based on previous designs I’d exhibited in the galleries. As the summer moved on I continued to explore similar imagery only using the brush. The drawings got a bit more simple but could be made incredibly fast. At first these images also mimicked and expanded on my older designs but before the mid point of the season new monstrosities started to appear. More and more human depictions were directly resultant of my interactions on the street.

HEY APATHY! 30 x 40 ink on paper street drawings

STREET ART 2005 4 x 6 foot Transformation Scrolls

As the imagery changed so to did the format. The 30 x 40 inch poster sized ink drawings grew into extended 2 x 4 foot animated narratives, the to 4 x 6 foot large format paintings. The sequential scrolls featured strange transformations of man into monster, animal and machine. The large images started to revisit the metropolis and the ominous gear from my first series only now the examination was drawn from the vantage of the street. The faceless cogs and anonymous creatures now presented themselves as a amazingly diverse crowd. Each individual depicted in the artwork, though still alienated, had a story of their own. In the final weekend before the summer closed I completed a 10 x 15 foot large mural of Toronto. The image featured a military attack on an armoured hero inspired by a short work by Kurt Vonnegut. The artwork took three days to complete created primarily with brushes but detailed extensively with my old bamboo pen.

10 x 15 foot "Death of a Hero" Toronto Mural.

 (Duct taped to street wall with my duffle bag in the left corner)

Like the size of the artworks the crowds too perpetually expanded. A larger number of onlookers were taking interest and I was moving a lot of art. The small tool kit was a thing of the past as my display now overflowed 2 large duffle bags with an additional large roll of paper. In fact I found my self making inopportune mission biking to the dollars store to restock on frames. At first I would spend the mornings making small brush drawings but soon the demand was keeping me up most of the night. It got to the point were I was making batches of fifty brush monster drawings more than 5 times a week. Of coarse where there is action the is usually trouble and it became evermore difficult to avoid the bi-law consequences Continued tomorrow ...

more street art at  www.heyapathy-comics-art.com/monster-comics-street-art.html

ALTERNATIVE COMICS the thing under the stairs...

Alternative Comics Monster

Another schizophrenic Toronto afternoon as our early summer weather bounces rebounds after a couple of cold spring days. I certainly took advantage spending a couple hours in the park in between labour intensive sessions hovering over the animation stand. Got a lot done in terms of drawings although little in terms of seconds for the all new HEY APATHY! cartoon funded by the Ontario Council for the Arts. However despite my luxurious division between the outdoors and studio time the weirdest distraction had little to do with any of my attempts to be simultaneously productive and relaxed.

The problem arose later on in the evening as I attempted to compose a short essay for my site. I was writing up a history of the influences and occurrences regarding my decisions to work as a street artist when I heard a strange beeping and clicking coming from under the floor. I tried to ignore it and continue my typing but the consistent sound kept annoying so I was forced to investigate. I followed the noise out my door through the hall eventually identifying it as coming from the stairs. I slowly crawled down the steps with my ears open and discovered a small crack were the sound seemed to originate.

I'd never really considered the stairs as being hollow or even briefly thought that there was any space underneath. In fact if I think about it I was almost most certain that the steps were quite solid until this very minute clicking revealed otherwise. The crack was very small but easily identifiable so I put a knife into the hole and pried it open a bit.

There was a strong stench and a gurgle which over took the mechanical sounds and in a flash the ground gave way underneath my feet. I fell through the stairs and landed in a basement, only it wasn't the laundry room I thought it would be. The room was all damp and dripping and red and a large grotesque leech with the face of a demon bull was slithering to a fro all around the debris. It was hissing and gurgling and making the computer click sounds and I started to sweat in fear for my life. I saw bones sprawled out and bugs that had been chewed as the sluggish atrocity started towards me with it's face all a glow. I was about to shout out and prepared to defend myself, though compared to the size and horror of the beast I was absolutely no match. It's blue glowing face flickered as it gobbled the mucus falling from on of it's faces to another. The beeping and clicking got louder and louder and the creature advanced aggressively and close to my face.

Amazingly as it got within a consumable distance I realized that I was absolutely no concern. The monster slurped passed me starring at the bright screen in it's claw. I was in no danger for the creature was distracted by a small technological game playing device. It was obviously engaged in a simplistic arcade which was responsible for the beeping, as for the clicking I think it was texting a friend....

ALTERNATIVE COMICS The IMPRISONMENT

HEY APATHY Alternative Comics

Well the last to days were nothing short of terrifyingly weird as a minor slip of the tongue ( or rather keyboard) cost me a brief incarceration and subsequent unimaginable torture. Fortunately my good friend Blackbeard got me out on a technicality and my imprisonment ended much quicker than it felt. On the advice of my rescuer and mystical attorney, I dare not go into details regarding who or why I was held captive for it was the simple act of identifying those responsible which first put me in peril. On the other hand I see no problem in my sharing the actual experience.

As I just mentioned I wrote about a certain something which is most forbidden to speak of, a heavily guarded and policed topic of concern. Before I'd completed discussing the story I blacked out and awoke in a tiny little cell. The room was fully furnished and carpeted comfortably but the unfamiliar surroundings left me in an unusual loss of control. I was dressed in a white shirt and a pair of Khakis and my hair had grown back full on, possibly plugs. My finger nails were manicured and my teeth had been cleaned yet without any recollection the improvements succeeded only in inspiring fear.

In the room I had a television which turned on in the morning with numerous smiling faces citing happy weathers and local news. When the program ended the prison door opened and a sharp piercing noise forced me to exit the room. There were no guards that I could see but my motions were predetermined as I felt forced into a reasonably luxurious car which drove itself to the work camp. Upon arriving at the labour site, an infinitely storied complex I was ejected politely from the vehicle with a shock. There was a steam of other prisoners all decorated similarly, shuffling their way past the lobby into tiny compartment. Many formalities such a hellos and small liquid refreshments were also subliminally inflicted upon us. After drinking the liquid I felt a narcotic sensation and was compelled to make strange phone calls and upload large files. Before I knew it. yet simultaneous with my exhaustion a bell rang and the building flooded out to the lots.

Bumper to bumper the cars all slowly moved along a barren stretch of concrete I hypothesized to be a great conveyor belt. My car dropped me back to the door of my cell only this time there were two baby's and a housewife and maid. As I walked through the door, which shut right behind me, the maid disappeared and the wife brought a drink. I sat down on the couch and noticed the room had gotten bigger, but despite the enlargement there was still no way out. The television news began reporting new stories, mostly about whether, charities, and the occasional foreign disturbance. There was a surreal conditioning to the air all around me and I began to get unexpectedly comfortable as I sank in the chair.

It was as the sun set that I lifted the bottle set out by my housewife and I nearly consumed it when I scratchy but familiar voice broke through the relaxing dream. "Don't even think about it" It was Blackbeard. He took the drink from my hands and poured peculiarly around the floor. The weird patterns that formulated from the spillage were bizarre beyond description. They were not geometric nor hieroglyphic, nor did they resemble any symbol or even stain. Blackbeard pushed me up from the chesterfield with on hand on each shoulder and leaned forward grunting the following instructions. " You've got to walk along those marks I made and focus quite deeply on everything that really matters and all of your hopes, goals, and dreams. Those marks I made are specifically different and no one routine or idea can retrace those steps. You're only way out of here is to break the routine and your only hope of doing that now is to walk a new pattern."

I remembered the comics and the aliens and unknown , so nodding to Blackbeard I jumped to the floor. The tracks were nearly impossible to navigate as no man, monster or ballerina could truly move their legs according to the steps. Forcefully turning my knees inside out and walking on parts of my feet I had never been aware of I found a way to move through the extravagant chaos. I must have broken two toes and severely strained my shoulder as the bruising has yet to even minutely subside. Nevertheless, all contorted and determination I made it and once the dance was completed I found myself home.

I am now back in my studio, totally bald and dressed in black, and a little bit stronger and wiser than before the insidious incident. But that is just how things tend to evolve whenever Blackbeard's involved. A horrible situation equals sincere revelation over and over as life rolls on. Thanks for saving my a-- again Blackbeard I'll find that book you're looking for first thing tomorrow.

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ALTERNATIVE COMICS routine atrocities...

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics.! If any of you have been following these journals you may already be familiar with the creepy research and developments of the sub-human, yet ultimately superior, breed of creatures known only as invisible. The strange monster people are of the most powerful intellect. Their abilities to process data and patterns have far exceeded even the most analytic of mathematicians. The most terrifying part of the whole business is that their studies involve human behaviour and the mapping, recording and planning of our routines. The process is beyond scientific as "the invisible" processes our experiences like a chemist processes  drugs. At any rate the members of this society have figured out life's patterns to such an extent as to understand our every move.

 Sometimes they even enter our homes unobserved. In fact they move so intuitively in-between our routines that they are capable of following you through you kitchen or bath with out ever being seen. Truth is they look just like ordinary people, yet through their extraordinary research they have moved beyond normal senses. It is no trick or illusion or fictional power, it is simply a sophisticated formula devised of repetitious movements and peripheral avoidance. Fortunately I have not figured out their intentioned but would prefer not to speculate. I know one of them is here now but no matter how quickly I turn they can predict ( although I believe the term inaccurately describes their prowess of deduction) a cannot catch a glimpse. The only thing that I am certain of is that they don't like to be discussed and that most anyone who has mentioned them soon thereafter disappears. Any ways on to another subje

Alternative Comics Brain-Worm-Thing

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics

Many of us who've taken an interest in the weird development known as progress, often ask our selves a variety of questions concerning man's limitations when travelling through land, space and time. Just such a query was tempted my way this morning as I received an email notice that a local company trading in technologies was about to unveil a new device. The advertisement invited those selected to join in a midday presentation and at a chance to purchase the product at an unbelievably low introductory price.

I'd nothing much better to do than to investigate further so I attended the presentation with little debate. The new electronic was introduced although no a member of the crowd could have guessed it as the tiny computer looked an awful lot like a worm. The spokesperson held proudly in her manicured hands a small cup of fishing bait expecting our applause. " This little computer will change the way we travel. It's amazing capacities are beyond any of last years lines!" The model slipped in her excitement and toppled the container sending some of these "worms" reeling to the floor. There was a bit of a disturbance as some security blokes rushed to the stage. However a few seconds of whispers and shuffles restored all composure and the presentation proceeded as though uninterrupted.

The announcer began describing the prowess of the worms. She told us that it's virtual simulations bordered on reality. Claims were made that the device would be faster, infallible, and of the utmost import. As the speaker continued I could almost imagine the effect. Instantly the surroundings started fading away and I found my self on an island of tropical decent. The sun started shining and birds passed the sky as I felt a new relaxing sensation warm me up more than beach.

Information passed my unconscious in a flickering script and before I could enjoy the euphoria I knew that my files had been sorted. All of my office work for the next three full years flashed through my mind's eye and were orderly complete. Then I watched movies in a half of a second. The entire film cohesively was implanted in my brain. And as the experience became joyous when I connected with friends. Suddenly there was everyone that I'd ever met. We were all on the island chit chatting away in near perfect utopia when the strange sound began.

I was laughing uncontrollably in the ecstasy as the piercing began. At first a soft ringing, but growing steadily louder, the noise started aggravations before actual harm. Eventually I forgot all my hallucinatory fantasies falling sweaty to the floor red faced grasping my ears. Louder and ill-pitched by the second I felt the urge to scream loudly but couldn't bare another sound. Hands started on my shoulder trying to hold me and I saw shuffling around at my feet. The noise blacked out my vision and I heard the announcer's voice trying to calm the obviously distressed onlookers.

When I awoke I was in my apartment completely free from all pain. I'd no idea how I'd gotten there nor much recollection of the time in between. Of coarse this left me rattled so first I went for a short walk. After breathing some fresh air I returned to the computer. The email notice had been deleted from my files and though I contacted the tech company no one seemed to know anything of the worm. Now once again acting naturally I laid on my bed, another bad dream perhaps or only a story? It was just before passing into a slumber that I resigned to belief in these logical explanations. That's when I heard the other sound. It was all bass and liquid completely different from the nightmarish pitch which rendered me unconscious but it came from the same source. Deep within my ear the noise ruggedly escalated but before it evolved to terrifying volumes a large squish signalled it's end .The little metallic brain-worm-thing excavated itself from my cranium slopped on to the floor an escaped into a crevice beside the internet wall jack under my desk.

ALTERNATIVE COMICS TELEPATHIC BATTLES AND TECHNOLOGICAL RESOLVE

HEY APATHY! ALTERNATIVE COMICS ART OF WAR

"Kill therefore with the sword of wisdom the doubt born of ignorance that lies in the heart. Be one in self-harmony, in Yoga, and arise great warrior, arise".Bhagavad Gita

In the entirety of my memories, and more so as of late, I have found myself in perpetual struggles against my fellow man. Now that is not to say that I've led a violent or even particularly aggressive life, but rather one of constant defence. It would seem that no matter how miniscule a personal space I require, some one is compelled to invade it either intentionally or otherwise. Oddly enough, as I've witnessed opposite reactions in others frequently, I always fight for my space if it is rightfully mine. Whether it be for a bus seat occupied by a package, or a cafe territorially inhabited by fiends, I rarely subside though the exertion is trying.

No I do not derive pleasure from the aggravating confrontation and am always left with an uncomfortable pulse rate and embarrassing hue. For I time I questioned whether I secretly coveted encountering ignorant and inconsiderate villains, but soon realized that there was absolutely no escape. I tried many new places all over the globe but the situation was always repeated. Some one somewhere would infringe on my space. If I tried to picnic, a team of Frisbee players would set up game less than a foot from my food. If I tried to buy vegetables someone would push past my place in line. When I opened a book a guitar started bleeding, and when the guitar sounded exquisite construction began. These mild trivialities on exemplified the worst of the intrusions through their persistent restless pestering in between larger incidents.

I will no go into the sordid details of these larger events for they alone hold the key to my preservation and authority, but I will share a brief and unusual experience through which you will understand why the details are classified. As I mentioned these unwelcome encounters have accelerated in the past few weeks. The disequilibrium affair became a regular occurrence between myself and a large network of up and coming gangsters frequenting my neighbourhood of the Gear.

I'd little regard for their illicit activities. What difference is to me who buys and sells drugs? However it was the boisterous and offensive impulses of the social unkempt crew that haunted every aspect of my routine. Not only had they infected the shops, parks and cafes with continuous loud music and fist fight displays, but they sat on my buildings doorstep for 8 hours a day. At any rate I took numerous counter measures eventually dispersing the hooligans from all of their hangouts thus bringing peace back to the community, Although most of my tactics were subversive and dirty, I was concerned for my anonimity after falling into public words with several offenders.

Earlier today those concerns came to light. I had left the shop early and followed my regular routes. Only this time I felt vibrations. I could see the thugs and dealers on many building stoops and I knew that their attention was directed at me. I caught a number of brief glances and was twice knocked had in the shoulder by passer before I reached the cafe. Here I saw a crew of rough individuals scatter quickly the moment I arrived. After purchasing my coffee the streets seemed clear. Not only did I see no marked enemy, the vibrations had ceased.

Sitting down in the sun, I put a book on the grass when a sudden compulsion over whelmed my calmed mind. I envisioned a surprise attack in which several unknown street dealers started kicking my as I sat in the grass. When I say envisioned it, I mean I felt it and saw it and was swooned despairingly with remorse at my helplessness. Turning around I surveyed the park and sure enough I was casually surrounded by more than twenty of my new voraciously oscillating friends.

I made eye contact with the one who I 'd toiled with earlier and locked glares with insistence. With the squint of his eye I knew they had something to prove. I meditatively replied by running scene through my mind. In a single beat I thought of all the names, faces and places I'd gathered against them and of the webpage I'd hidden which could relay the information. My nemesis flinched and I knew he'd understood for with a cussing sound from his teeth the entire group disappeared. I was no longer in fear nor do I expect further trouble, but as sure as I opened my book in the sun, I was hit in the back of the head by a Frisbee!

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ALTERNATIVE COMICS SURREAL SHOPPING SPREE...

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HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics A Surreal Horror .

..

Today the metropolis was blessed by a beautiful sunshine and warm springtime humidity that I found it some what difficult to resign to the studio. Pushing my papers aside and unplugging the machine, I grabbed a little cash a set out for the streets. I'd barely any plans, likely an organic brew, but I knew the inkling that my excited activity could only be nourished by some sort of shopping spree. I often find the act of searching through products and stores to be an invigorating and amusing pass time. I haven't any friends and no business to speak of, therefore my inclusion in spending gives me a deep sense of purpose.

I find the sequence of events necessary to make a purchase quite thrilling. I'll leave my house, move through transit, and arrive in a place where other people are. It makes me feel happily human. Then when I get into the shops, all the colours and choices! I can reject and collect whatever I fancy. I may file through records or racks of new fashions or purchase some food stocks or maybe an improvised treat. The shoe store is fun but not so much as the general  centers. Here you can ask people questions and peruse to no end. It is absolutely exhilarating when a package jumps off of the shelf and lands in my hands. Only some amount and 99 cents with all sorts of wonderful graphics and promises!

Sometimes I don't even bring my new toys home. If I've forgotten their importance or they become to much to handle I'll simply toss them aside and wait for my next inclination. Isn't it wonderful enough to just buy things! Some of the stores even play loud music and have sparkling lights with magazine cut outs inviting you in. If you come across such a magnificence you simply have explore.

I happened upon one such outlet on this afternoon's adventure. It was an enormous mega-establishment specializing in products with fancy packages all of which were either endorsed by celebrities or as seen on TV. I knew that this was my station. I strolled past the electronic greeter beaming with the utmost of confidence. Here I would shop and impress all that could see. I was certain that my social standings were about to be greatly enhanced as a result of my boisterous and skilful consumerist display . Yes, I knew how to shop, of that I was most confident.

Entering the isle ways I was quickly taken aback by a striking design. It appeared like a golden boulder sitting upon a pile of dull gravel. For a moment I worried that this was too good to be true and concerned myself deeply that my shopping may have ended to soon. Yes I wanted it, I'd heard of it, it was original, unique and entirely for me! No other parcel, nor package on any of the other shelves retained visibility. It was like me and the product were alone at a decadent ball. The muzak accelerated with a strange symphonic majesty and all of the lights in the store seemed to dim around us. I reached out in an instant, that lasted forever, and took hold of the box with the most joyous delight.

With the product now firmly gripped in my hands the entire store around me and my purchase turned pitch black. Standing in awe of the spotlight and my discovery, I surmised that this must be one of those retail promotions and that I had been made a champion. The proprietor and the public witnessed my extravagance and intended to reward and praise me for my expert consumerism. I knew that someday my genius would be celebrated for I was a shopper among shoppers in the highest degree!

The excitement crescendoed nearly beyond my control as electric currents surged from the insides of my teeth. Then in a kaleidoscope frenzy of logos and promos the entire room disappeared.

I saw a factory full of peoples from far away places.

I saw an armed soldier shuffling them in

and out through wired gates.

 I saw a smoke stack and a river coiling with fear.

 I heard the engines of planes, trucks and trains bursting my ears.

 I saw a group of suited creatures, situated around a long desk,

each laughing and arguing with uncensored jest.

 Then I saw the studies, and findings of man,

mass hypnosis, manipulated senses and of the wars in their plans.

 I saw my product reproduced and purchased by many

  and finally a garbage dump and transference of each penny.

 The metal money was melted and churned into weapons

 and before my purchase expired ten new ones had crept in.

Dizzily stepping backwards I bumped into another shopper who grunted at the unintentional obtrusion. I politely apologised excusing my self and turned towards the lines. Everything seemed normal again. I resolved that my vertiginous spell was likely caused by an empty stomach, unconsciously attempting to refute any possibility of the event being a side effect of shopping. Proceeding to the cashier I placed my purchase on the counter. "Cash or Credit?”. I hesitated,  looked down at the product, and before I could answer with  I found myself running down the wet and thunderous streets in a state of cursed  terror frantically seeking an advertisement-free route home. more art at http://www.heyapathy-comics-art.com/

Alternatve Comics City Monster vs Saxaphone!

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics

Made up of all the cars, people, wires and energy of the metropolis streets, the City Monster rises with a booming crescendo of maniacal sounds. Screeching over the traffic the creature engulfs pedestrians and digests the denizens with routines and stress. As the passing clouds cross the billboards, a tiny little person wearing a noir suit opens up his case. Fastening the glimmering weapon to his chest the defiant performer breaths heavily. Upon inserting the reed, and taking a firm foot hold of concrete, out bursts the sound. Swiftly echoing through out the wind tunnels the saxophone slices through the chaos offering a hypnotic resistance to overbearing city sounds. A release removes worries the music makes the madness palatable for another moment. Such is life in the City of Gears!

“The Saxophone vs. the City” 18” x 24” Pen and ink drawing made live on Queen Street West. This follow up to the “Attack of the City Monster” was inspired by the amazing prowess of music to enhance our lives in the city. All throughout the downtown core people are enjoying music. Quite often a saxophonist will step out in the streets and play out for the entire surroundings. The magnificent power of the instrument combined with the shared public experience of a beautifully played song is always outstanding. This illustration places the heroic musician center stage versus the horrific metropolis.

I revisited this drawing as a 10 x 12 foot street painting/performance in 2007. That summer I did a large mural on Queen Street West almost every Saturday. When I was drawing the “Saxophone Vs. The City Monster” there was a large crowd of teenagers and adults hovering over the artwork. As I laid down the final brush strokes I could here them attempting to figure out what the painting represented. They had figured out the crowds and the city but were stumped as too the squiggly lines and figure. Then, just as a became concerned that I had botched the drawing, a little girl step out from behind the shopping bags and, tired of all the silliness, simply proclaimed “ it’s a Saxophone !”

ALTERNATIVE COMICS Technological Infiltrations

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics Beware of Mass Hypnosis!

Following a long and dissatisfying day at the office, I returned to my lodgings beaten and worn. Nothing had gone right and although I still had a job, both my coworkers and employers have grown to despise what they openly define as my utter incompetence. In truth what they despise is my imaginative responses to the mundane and trivial occurrences which are best known in business circles as "work". So be it, I skipped out on the sympathetic invitations to join them in a bar and came directly home at the end of my shift.

Home is a 12 by 12 foot single room with a tiny window on the east that never receives any light. I have a small writing table and a mattress, a bar fridge and a hot plate, and enough room under the bedding to store all my clothes and belongings. So you can imagine very few items are ever miss placed and even the slightest disturbance to my personal possessions would be instantaneously noticeable. And that is exactly what happened when I peered through my door.

Someone, or something, had set up a little black box and television monitor on top up my desk. Shocked by the intrusion I surveyed the room but found no trace of the intruder. I called down to the lobby but no visitors nor deliveries had been reported. I began sweating profusely at the antagonizing perception of the invasion of my privacy. Infuriated to despair I resigned to telephone the police. That's when the monitor started to flicker.

Inside of the screen a young lady composed of cylinders and cones addressed me. She had a sly way of talking and easily persuaded my taking hold of the control panel attached to the box. I was seduced into various conversations and whisked off to numerous locations and well one thing led to another and our child was conceived.

At first I was nervous at the thought of parent hood but soon got into the game. Checking the bottles, changing the diapers, feeding times, baby fashion and such. Eventually I even took to building a community for the child. I set laws, made policies, increased taxes and raised war. Only the best for my child in a world under my control!

Dizzy and drunken on the simulated stimulation I passed hours and hours and eventually days then weeks. The office dare not disturb me for they knew that creationism was my only true work. In fact the government started sending me monthly wages to finance the experiment. I grew my beard long like a God and ceased strolling amidst the mortal denizens outside of my world. Each moment I obsessed, schemed and dispensed unto the great nation inspired by the birth of my first born son.

My son? Oh my son, I can't find my son! A perspiring panic overwhelmed me, in my virtual megalomanias I had built countries, executed criminals, tore down continents and amassed insurmountable fortunes, but I'd forgotten where last I put my son! In a fitted rage I searched the nursery, the schools, and the parks. I put up posters, newspaper ads, a megaphone out my window and even posted rewards on my blog. I retraced all of my steps but to no avail.

I found the child's mother walking half way across the kitchen, disappearing, then starting again. No matter how many times she crossed the floor she could not tell me the location of our son! Frantically I tore from the corners of my room. I tossed over the mattress, turned up my small desk, filed through the pockets of my coat and retraced all of those steps over again thrice in vain. I sat silent in the middle of my 12 x 12 foot apartment and ,before I could weep, passed out cold on the floor. When I awoke only moments ago I discovered the black box and the television have been removed from my room. In losing the device I feel compromised, and equalling despairing for my privacy as I did upon the initial intrusion, and although I cannot explain the reasoning, I am certain I will never set foot outside of that door again!


 

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Alternative Comics of Dreams and Intuition

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics

"of DREAMS AND INTUITION"

The following set of observations will be made without reference nor in depth research in regard to the subject at hand. Therefore the article you are hereby presented with will be of little literary or scientific value. However the anecdotal experiences which I am about to share, pertaining to notions beyond the vocabulary of language and of scientific models, may retain some pertinent information. I perceive that by expressing this wholly internalized hypothesis I may incite a dialogue involving like-minded experiences or open those unsatisfied with their own interpretations to new possibilities. The ultimate goal being to improvise my immediate reactions to the topic of dreams opposed to intuition unfettered by academic influence. A second stage of this analysis will to be the eventual research and discuss these notions in order to solidify any probable theories. But I digress, having now wasted an entire paragraph explaining that this post is a fact-less editorial, fit only for the news, I will now divulge my opinion on the matter.

Of dreams one often believes the midnight movies from the back of your mind to be one of three powers. Some of us see these visions as precognitive warnings presenting inescapable scenes from the near future, Others feel that the stories are mixed up puzzles meant to deal with ones inadequacies or confused state of being. While many others still,  think they are nothing but nonsense. In my experience the dreams are none of these things.

As of late, during my sleeping hours, I have been tormented by endlessly black feelings of helplessness and despair . Although I can recall but few details (such as the lizard dream accounted in the blog only days ago) the terrifying sensation of depression lingers long after my deep rest. Not to say that I wallow in my nightmares throughout the day time, rather that a small inkling of the desolation can be recalled at a moments notice when I think of the night. I know there is some terrible fate lurking not far from my conscious mind. Fortunately and in direct contrast to the darkness, nothing has gone wrong in my waking life, and especially nothing in particular has fallen out from the dreams and into reality ( I use the term "reality" freely and loosely).

When I dreamt of a car accident, there was none. Where my pet and friend lizard suffered, she remained healthy. Although my lover had proceeded to chop me into little bits which then churned into cubes of a thick blackened ooze, my body remains intact. The more monstrous the dreams become the less likely they appear to actualize. Of coarse it is more than likely my lover will one day butcher my physique but the hances of the fragments turning into tar blocks in highly unlikely. No these dreams do not reveal the future, nor am I secretly concerned about my ultimate demise nor the obvious bet on how it will occur. In some cases ( once again I refer you to the lizard ream) the grotesque consequences imagined were little more than exageratted reminders of mild anxieties.

I have paid attention to the symbols and attempted to co-relate them to the present and to the future. I have even attempted to dismiss them as utter fiction. But alas I cannot deny it. The visions appear only as indulgent and excessive tortures devoid of meaning aside from there own existence. They simply express the darkest places and derive a fuelling inertia from the pain inflicted by their presence. They mean to hold us down. I say "us" because I know you all have them too. The truth is dreams are pure evil, a truth both derived from and reflective of existence, pure evil.

Of intuition I am familiar with many definitions, interpretations and modes which popular culture has classified but science has dismissed. Generally one either believes in intuitions or one does not. I must disagree with the opposing ideas and say that it is both.

Over the past seven years I have taken a great interest in certain quantifiable intuitions. The first is the sensation or thought of someone you know followed by a surprise surfacing of that exact person. I found the incidents to be in high numbers and above coincidence. I had the notion that it was not some strange intuition rather a heightened animal sense we all share but remain unaware of. Could it be possible that I actually caught the scent of these friends or acquaintances long before I was consciously aware of their presence? To test the theory I plugged my nose from the insides so as to be able to roam the public streets without attracting attention. Although I often thought of particular people at particular moments, the phenomena of "oh my, why I was just thinking of you..." ceased to play a role in my daily routine. In fact I ceased bumping into any people thatI knew at all! Could it be that our social connections are telepathically communicated through an exchange of chemicals secreted from our noses? I dare not take the plugs out, just to be sure.

The second intuition that has never failed me in my ability to guess exactly how much money I was entitled to acquire on any given day. Almost always around 11 am, the beginning or the retail hours, a number  pops into my head, $300, $600, $5000, or whatever and sure enough when I count the till at seven the amount always matches. Unfortunately the number isn't always an optimistic one but it is correct. Again I hypothesized the notion of extra-ordinary senses and decided that through these senses and experience that I was actually able to predict the figures based on the weather, the news, the local events, and a little unconscious algebra calculating all these factors which obviously affect consumer traffic. To test this theory I had myself blind folded, beaten dizzy, and dropped off at work with out any of the hypothesized information necessary for the equation. On repeated attempts I failed to guess any sensible numbers and in fact broke into a brief fit of amnesia in which I even failed to guess my name!

So in conclusion to my experiments and experimental opinions I believe that dreams are nothing but nightmares and that intuition is in fact a provable entity borne of faculties of the senses which popular theories and the human consciousness utilizes often but is currently unable to identify. Regardless of this drivel I can promise you that no numbers regarding he lottery have ever appeared in my mind's sight but I do have a sinking intuitive feeling that there will be dark dreams again tonight.

 

 

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