Sdtrk: ‘Walking in LA’ by Missing persons

That’s… almost body temperature. That can’t be good

Out of all the seasons we have foisted upon us, Summer has to be the worst, hands down. Autumn’s subtlety makes it superior; Spring’s never done me far wrong; Winter looks beautiful but it’s crap to be out in, but being chilly still beats basting in your own juices any day. The only redeeming thing about Summer is that it makes women reassess their choices in footwear, but that’s it, and that’s only a marginal reward, all told.

When I was younger and more willing to step out-of-doors, I remember developing a heat rash every Summer for three years running. Additional details are fuzzy, but I recall it was disgusting, as rashes tend to be. Then, of course, there’s the sweating, which, as far as I’m concerned, is a design flaw in Organik humans. Do you see cats sweating? No, no you don’t. Obviously they know something we don’t… And don’t forget tanning! Because making your flesh leathery and courting melanoma is always a worthwhile goal.

I’ll tell you: on the way to work Friday when I took the picture above, I saw a bloke geting his exercise in by running. Over the course of a mile, his body mass visibly shrank, as he was so overheated that he was rapidly losing weight. He went from probably about 185 lbs. to 40 just like that. Having stopped at an intersection, he was so weak and dehydrated that not only did he collapse, but the broiler heat of the tarmac reduced his frail form to a steaming paste within seconds, iPod and all.
Also, I saw a Pomeranian burst into blazing flames. It’s true.

In about a decade, when I am rightfully crowned First Grand Monarch of Earth, I resolve to put an end to this ‘summer’ ridiculousness; however, I’ve not decided how exactly. Either I’ll have enormous Bucky Fuller domes constructed over the major cities of the world, or I’ll have a fleet of gigantic air conditioning units flying in continuous formation around the globe, whichever’s more effective. Personally, I’m leaning toward the dome idea, cos if it worked for the society in ‘Logan’s Run‘, then there must be something to it, right?

Summertime. Clearly Nature’s biggest mistake

Sdtrk: ‘October language’ by Belong

This was located by the vigilant staffers at SpurtBOT: AI Robotics is a website where you can choose and order your very own Gynoid named Lisa. Whoa, whoa there, bunky! Don’t get your hopes up, and you can put your chequebook away, as unfortunately, the whole thing’s about as legitimate as Borghild, the legendary Nazi Doll. Yeah, I know, I was bummed out about it as well.

‘Sorry, I don’t actually exist! Keep saving up, though!’

It’s a reasonably convincing jape, though. There’s interviews with the creators, testimonials from happy customers, an online ordering page, etc. I do like this bit in the interview, however:

For whom did you design the perfect woman?
Etienne Fresse: Lisa is a substitute for a real woman. She has been designed for all men who have not found their soulmate, who would like to have company when they get home in the evening and who would like to have someone who cares for them.

Why did you decide to sell Lisa on the internet?
Yoichi Yamato: Most of all we wanted to “democratize” robots. We wanted to give as many people as possible the opportunity to benefit from cutting-edge technologies, to make their daily lives a little better.

Hoax or not, they’ve definitely got the right idea…

They say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. With that in mind, have a look at the short film ‘Creative Director Doll‘. If you’ve seen Nick Holt’s ‘Guys and Dolls‘ — and who hasn’t?? — some of those shots and lines of dialogue will be awfully familiar. It got a hearty chuckle out of me, anyway!

We’re halfway through 2008, and once again, Phoenix Studios is maintaining their sexy silicone standards, with Miss June, out now. Shi-chan and I approve!

If it’s too warm in there, her thighs will stick to that bag when she stands up

I dunno; I believe I have a new favourite Boy Toy model… I think it’s that red hair of hers. Mmm, racy!

And have you read fellow iDollator PBShelley’s review of ‘Lars and the Real Girl’? I think you should.

A good example of how the dolls serve the observers’ imagination was shown when Karin begins talking to Bianca about her job, and how the townspeople used Bianca to provide them with what they wanted, a librarian, church member, even a mirror for their own beliefs as to how a woman should be treated. A doll (any doll) is a toy for the imagination; or, you might say, a tool. And a fertile imagination is a good thing

More iDollator-related news later! There’s another Doll Congress I must attend next week-end! I missed the last two, and if I don’t hit this one, they’ll revoke my status

Sdtrk: ‘International’ by OMD

It’s so simple! Take pics like this (lasses only):

This was from the lovely Gina of See Gina Blog. Ta very much! You are appealing to my prurient nature, and well done, I say!

Sdtrk: ‘Separate and ever deadly’ by The Last shadow puppets

Hah! You may recall how when I transfered ‘Shouting etc etc’ from its modest origins on Blogger over to the acclaimed WordPress, how there were difficulties importing my multitude of HaloScan comments from There to Here? I mean, this was way back in 2006. There was a plugin that was supposed to be able to handle that exact sort of scenario, but try as I might, I simply could not get it to work. So guess what? I’m transferring all of those feckers by hand. That’s right. All 1,440 comments; copied, pasted, redated, etc. See how much I love you, where I’m willing to do this??
Frankly, the whole process makes me feel as if I’m losing my mind, but thankfully (?) my OCD tendencies keep me from saying bollocks to it, and deleting the lot, which I honestly wouldn’t do anyway, cos there are quite a few gems amongst them. This is obviously going to take a while, but when I’m finished*, I’ll let you know. So there you have it!

While we’re talking back end stuffs, I’d like to formally introduce you to a couple of new bloggin’ pals. There’s Intentionally Mispelled, which is intentionally misspelled. It’s a rather meta pun. Also, there’s If I Was A Rich Girl…, which is by a girl who, to my knowledge, is not rich. It’s a rather ironic pun. And lest we forget, there’s Princessrachel’s Extrawhoredinary, which is about whores celebrities. It’s a rather factual pun.

Okay, better post to come soon! Theoretically speaking, of course. So here’s a picture of one of the lovely lasses by 4woods in the interim! Standards round here have to be maintained, y’know

Oi! No lying down! These comments aren’t going to transfer themselves!

*estimated completion date is early Autumn of 2745

Sdtrk: ‘Skunk’ by The Jon Spencer Blues explosion

What exactly is it about Garfield™® that engenders so much contempt amongst upright-walking, thinking beings? I think the reason goes beyond its feeble and saccharine attempts at humour; in fact, for me, it’s precisely because it tries to be as inoffensive as possible is the reason I wish to see Jim Davis’ head on a pike outside the city gates. I can understand wanting to create comics that can be enjoyed by a wide range of people, but as a wise Mancunian once remarked, ‘If you pander to the public, art can never exist’.

Luckily, it seems of late that more and more people are realising that there actually are trace elements of humour to be found in Garfield™®, if you have a powerful enough viewing device to see it. Recently, I discovered three separate sites that have a reductionist approach to putting the ‘comic’ back into that ‘comic strip’. First, I give you Arbuckle:

In 1978, Jim Davis began a newspaper comic strip called “Garfield”. For almost thirty years, this strip has endured, primarily because its inoffensive, storyless humour is immediately accessible. It is, if not quite the Lowest Common Denominator of the comic world, at least as close to it as one can get without being obviously mediocre.

The comic changes dramatically when one removes the thought bubbles.

“Garfield” changes from being a comic about a sassy, corpulent feline, and becomes a compelling picture of a lonely, pathetic, delusional man who talks to his pets. Consider that Jon, according to Garfield canon, cannot hear his cat’s thoughts. This is the world as he sees it. This is his story.

They’re accepting submissions, so if you’re feelin’ mischievous and want to redo a strip yourself, contact the site owner to check to see someone else hasn’t done the one you want first.
Then you’ve got Garfield minus Garfield:

Who would have guessed that when you remove Garfield from the Garfield comic strips, the result is an even better comic about schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and the empty desperation of modern life?
Friends, meet Jon Arbuckle. Let’s laugh and learn with him on a journey deep into the tortured mind of an isolated young everyman as he fights a losing battle against lonliness and methamphetamine addiction in a quiet American suburb.

Yes, Jon is that much more unsettling when he’s the only person in the room. I love the ones where they redo the extended Sunday versions, and the first panel that usually has the title ‘Garfield’ in it, is completely blank.

Finally, there’s Lasagna Cat, which is not so much ‘reductionist’, as ‘singularly disturbing’. But that description really fits when you’re dealing with live-action reenactments of various Garfield™® strips, with rimshots and canned laughter and the actors holding still in lieu of a freeze-frame. Yeah. After viewing a couple of these, you can announce to the world that you have indeed seen everything it has to offer, and you can now return to your Maker with no regrets. My particular favourite?

Hallucinatory. But funny! And when’s the last time you could honestly say that about an unadulterated Garfield™® comic?

And with this post, I hereby announce the new category, G******d (which has actually been there for a bit of a while, but nevertheless). Come, share the Hate with me

ta very much to aneamo for the ‘Garfield minus Garfield’ link

We won’t forget you, though in violence you go,
As the wheels turned in the theatres below,
An escape from the ends never met,
In apartments with the lives not formed yet

Sdtrk: ‘My year is a day’ by Les Irresistibles

And by ‘out’, I mean ‘largely unmotivated to do anything due to illness’. Yep, sick again. Either I caught the last vestiges of whatever plague from SafeT when we were round to goshou’s last Saturday, watching the last five episodes of Gundam 00 (note: fucking amazing, and we can’t wait for the rest of the series), or I obtained it from Tsukihime, when she was round last Sunday, moving out more of her belongings and coughing like a pro. Personally, I’m hoping it’s from SafeT, as Tsukihime has had an on-again off-again battle with bronchitis for months…

So I got round to my GP on Friday, cos although I don’t really have the fever or shivers or any of the usual symptoms of the grippe, I’ve been congested, and my throat’s been bone-dry. I could be uncharitable and partially chalk that up to my job, which has me constantly talking to twats across the nation five days a week, but I won’t for now. He has me open wide for the tongue depressor assessment, and I’m a third of the way through my AAAHH when he pulls the popsicle stick out, telling me that it’s really red in there. As quick as that judgement was, it was undoubtedly pulsing a bright crimson at the back of my throat. He’s got me on stronger antibiotics this time round, and these feckers are the biggest pills I’ve ever encountered. Behold its enormity (sorry for the blurriness):

left, a 2008 United States penny; right, a suppository

Imagine, if you can, a two-month old baby. Now imagine swallowing said baby whole. That’s what kind of dimensions we’re dealing with here. Dr S., do I look like a horse??
Ugh. Organiks. Walking germ factories. But I did manage to stop round Borders and pick up vol.10 of Monster (‘a taut psychological thriller’) and How to read Death note after my visit, as well as pre-ordered the new book about Boyd Rice, Standing in two circles, when I arrived home, so the day wasn’t a complete loss…

Well then! Back to work, or back to bed?