Artist Hunt
Oh, and I’m seeking artists for a couple of comics projects. No publisher lined up yet, but I want to get some concept art and the first couple of pages of each into the promo packets I’m going to send out. If you’ve got actual artistic talent, and think that either urban horror or mad Cthuloid pulp sounds like your sort of thing, mail me. Urgently.
Never Saw The Light
Can’t even manage to stick to a proper weekly schedule. This is because I am very busy leading a fabulous jet set lifestyle of glamour and excess. Actually, it isn’t but it’s a better excuse than “I’ve got a lot of work on”, so if you’d please believe that, it’d make me feel a bit better. The pitch for Unbound Comics is taking shape. Expect to see “BLACK PLANET: Sex and Lies” available in their forthcoming antho, assuming the editor doesn’t shitcan me.
This Rough Magic
OK, so this is becoming slightly ridiculous. I don’t care. Another round of “What Alasdair did at the weekend”, I think. This one was slightly more interesting than most, because I spent Saturday in Brighton with a bunch of folks. We went to the fair on the Pier. (Dodgems! Dodgems!) I managed to get damanged by the restraining bar on one of the rides, because it had to ratched back to ensure that antony was safe as well, and I’m about twice his size. We wandered around shops for a while (Current favourite T-shirt slogan: “I’m only a moderate drinker, but I smoke crack like a motherfucker.”) and then went to see “This Rough Magic“, an adaption of the Tempest set to a drum-n-bass soundtrack. Sadly, the view we had was dreadful, adn while I enjoyed what I saw, and loved the soundtrack, a lot of the spectacle was lost on me.
Still, better than just getting hammered in a pub somewhere. Sunday, didn’t do much. Worked on a proposal for Unbound Comics, but that’s about it.
Oh, if only I’d known
I confess: I’m a politics junkie. Election time rolls around, British or American, and I start following candidates and campaigns, in the same way other people watch sports. It’s the only thing I’m ever tempted to wager on.
American elections are much more entertaining than Britain, because there’s a longer selection process to go through, and the campaigns are much nastier, bloodier and more personal. They’ve long since abandonded the pretense that the election is about policy, in the States. Now it’s all about the personalities. One huge media circus. Brilliant fun.
Normally. This year, though, I’m bored. Really bored. There’s nothign to chose between the candidates. Nothing at all. Normally, I find myself dreading one or the other winning, but this time around, both parties are fielding the same sort of slime, and aiming for the centrist vote. Normally, I find myself able to guess which one will win by watching for the burning light, the need for victory. Which one of the wants it more? Which one will be smarter, more vicious? There’s no hunger in this campaign, no drive. Just two dull fuckers who seem to think that they have a right to be president, because of their situation.
At least I’m not alone. Even the good doctor thinks this one is boring.
Nothing to see here
You got a lot of content last week – well, you got more than in the previous couple of weeks – so don’t expect wonders in the coming week. Still, I’m going to see X-men on Thursday, so I’m sure I’ll provide a report of it here, for those of you that give a damn.
Other than that, I’ve not got a lot to report, other than another weekend’s shopping, which I won’t bore you with here, suffice it to say that Tony Hawkes skateboarding on Playstation is more addictive than any game has the right to be.
Katie.com
Well, while there are laws about cybersquatting, it seems they don’t apply to big business.
Fuckers. I mean, I’m sorry about what happened to Katie Tarbox, but why does her suffering give them the right to make someone else‘s life more difficult?
Got this one from Tom, lest I be accused of blurking without credit
Meta-2
If this work, there’re now permalinks on my blog entries, just in case anyone gives a damn. Look for the […] at the arse end of an entry, if I’ve got this right.
Milk And Cheese
I’m a Carton of Hate!
I’m a Wedge of Spite!
God, I want one of these.
Meta
This is starting to look distressingly weekly, rather than anything more regular, like I’d intended. And besides, I’m sure that there are more interesting things to write about that a brief summary of my weekend. Besides, I did nothing this weekend. Nothing.
A bit of work on Ninth Art, and a bit of reading. That’s it. Sad, really.