Florence and I are working on a new comic: The Adventures of Captain Hamish Isaacs-Swann, Transsexual Space Pirate From The Future.
This short introduction will be followed by a proper plot as soon as I get round to writing it. Stay tuned for fun! Frolics! Misogyny! Drugs! And of course, hard core nudity (maybe).
Thursday 28 May 2009
Wednesday 25 March 2009
Hysteria
T S Eliot wrote a poem called Hysteria. It goes like this:
AS she laughed I was aware of becoming involved
in her laughter and being part of it, until her
teeth were only accidental stars with a talent
for squad-drill. I was drawn in by short gasps,
inhaled at each momentary recovery, lost finally
in the dark caverns of her throat, bruised by
the ripple of unseen muscles. An elderly waiter
with trembling hands was hurriedly spreading
a pink and white checked cloth over the rusty
green iron table, saying: "If the lady and
gentleman wish to take their tea in the garden,
if the lady and gentleman wish to take their
tea in the garden ..." I decided that if the
shaking of her breasts could be stopped, some of
the fragments of the afternoon might be collected,
and I concentrated my attention with careful
subtlety to this end.
So I am turning it into a comic. For coursework. Here is the script.
Hysteria
Page 1 panel 1
PANELS ARE IN A STRAIGHT NINE PANEL GRID. AS THE PAGE PROGRESSES THE PANELS’ EDGES BECOME LESS SMOOTH (AFTERNOON FRAGMENTING) AND MORE LIKE SHARDS OF BROKEN GLASS. THE SETTING IS A TERRACE/BALCONY OUTSIDE A (POSSIBLY HOTEL) CAFÉ IN SUMMER. A MAN AND WOMAN SIT AT A RUSTY GREEN IRON TABLE IN FRONT OF FRENCH WINDOWS LEADING INSIDE – PERHAPS SHADY TABLES WITH OUTLINES OF OTHER DINERS ARE VISIBLE THROUGH THEM, BUT THE FOCUS IS VERY MUCH OUTSIDE. THE PAIR ARE SHELTERED FROM THE BRIGHT SUNLIGHT BY ONE OF THOSE BIG UMBRELLA/PARASOL THINGS WHOSE ACTUAL NAME I DON’T KNOW THAT YOU FIND STICKING OUT OF TABLES IN SITUATIONS LIKE THIS. ANYWAY THE MAN IS SMALL, NERVOUS AND BALDING, WEARING A BROWN SUIT. THE WOMAN IS LARGE, BLONDE AND LAUGHING, THE EMBODIMENT OF FEMALE VOLUPTUOUSNESS. HER BREASTS COULD SWALLOW HIM.
No dialogue.
Page 1 panel 2
CLOSE UP OF THE WOMAN’S MOUTH – BIG LIPS, SHINY WITH RED LIPSTICK AND WIDE OPEN WITH MIRTH. THE CAVERNS OF HER THROAT ARE FULL OF STARS – COLLAGE MAYBE? PERHAPS A RELEVANT CONSTELLATION. SCORPIO SPRINGS TO MIND FOR ITS SEXUAL CONNOTATIONS. THIS WOMAN IS ESSENTIALLY AN OBJECT OF THE MAN’S LUST AND WE ARE VIEWING HER THROUGH HIS EYES.
No dialogue.
Page 1 panel 3
ZOOM IN AGAIN. ONLY HER (RED, SHINY) TONGUE IS NOW VISIBLE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PANEL, WITH THE SAME STARS FILLING UP THE REST OF THE SPACE. MAN STANDS TINY ON HER TONGUE WITH HIS BACK TO US, LOOKING UP AT THE STARS. HE IS BATHED IN A SORT OF BLUISH PURPLE GLOW, LOOKS ALMOST BRUISED ALL OVER, INCLUDING HIS CLOTHES.
No dialogue.
Page 1 panel 4
NEW TIER. BACK TO THE TABLE. FRAMING SHOULD BE EXACTLY THE SAME AS PANEL 1. MAN HAS NOT MOVED, WOMAN HAS STOPPED LAUGHING BUT GRINS EXPANSIVELY. AN ELDERLY WAITER WITH TREMBLING HANDS NOW STANDS BEHIND THE TABLEAND BETWEEN THEM, SPREADS A PINK AND WHITE CHECKED CLOTH OVER IT. HE (DELIBERATELY?) FACES AWAY FROM BOTH US AND THEM, UNWILLING TO MAKE EYE CONTACT.
No dialogue.
Page 1 panel 5
CLOSE UP OF WAITER’S FACE, MAN AND WOMAN’S HEADS VISIBLE IN THE LOWER CORNERS OF THE PANEL (IF THEY FIT). IN SPITE OF THE FOCUS ON THE WAITER’S FACE, HIS EYES STILL MEET NEITHER OURS NOR THEIRS.
Waiter: If the lady and gentleman wish to take their tea in the garden…
Page 1 panel 6
CLOSE UP OF THE BALDING TOP OF THE MAN’S HEAD AND HIS PERSPIRING BROW.
Waiter: (off panel) If the lady and gentleman wish to take their tea in the garden…
Page 1 panel 7
NEW TIER. AGAIN THE SAME FRAMING AS PANEL 1, THIS TIME WITH THE CLOTH ON THE TABLE. MAN STILL HAS NOT MOVED BUT WOMAN HAS RESUMED HER LAUGHTER, EVEN MORE UNRESTRAINED THAN BEFORE. HER BREASTS SHAKE ALARMINGLY.
No dialogue.
Page 1 panel 8
CLOSE UP OF BREASTS, SHAKING LIKE JELLY.
Woman: Ha ha ha ha ha.
Page 1 panel 9
VIEW FROM BEHIND MAN’S RIGHT EAR, FOCUS STILL ON THE BREASTS. HE NARROWS HIS EYES, CONCENTRATING ON THEM. THE BOTTOM RIGHT HAND CORNER OF THE PANEL BEGINS TO SHATTER AND FALL AWAY. THE IDEA MUST BE SUBTLY GOT ACROSS THAT HE IS TRYING TO PREVENT THIS SHATTERING. WE DO NOT KNOW WHETHER OR NOT HE SUCCEEDS.
No dialogue.
AS she laughed I was aware of becoming involved
in her laughter and being part of it, until her
teeth were only accidental stars with a talent
for squad-drill. I was drawn in by short gasps,
inhaled at each momentary recovery, lost finally
in the dark caverns of her throat, bruised by
the ripple of unseen muscles. An elderly waiter
with trembling hands was hurriedly spreading
a pink and white checked cloth over the rusty
green iron table, saying: "If the lady and
gentleman wish to take their tea in the garden,
if the lady and gentleman wish to take their
tea in the garden ..." I decided that if the
shaking of her breasts could be stopped, some of
the fragments of the afternoon might be collected,
and I concentrated my attention with careful
subtlety to this end.
So I am turning it into a comic. For coursework. Here is the script.
Hysteria
Page 1 panel 1
PANELS ARE IN A STRAIGHT NINE PANEL GRID. AS THE PAGE PROGRESSES THE PANELS’ EDGES BECOME LESS SMOOTH (AFTERNOON FRAGMENTING) AND MORE LIKE SHARDS OF BROKEN GLASS. THE SETTING IS A TERRACE/BALCONY OUTSIDE A (POSSIBLY HOTEL) CAFÉ IN SUMMER. A MAN AND WOMAN SIT AT A RUSTY GREEN IRON TABLE IN FRONT OF FRENCH WINDOWS LEADING INSIDE – PERHAPS SHADY TABLES WITH OUTLINES OF OTHER DINERS ARE VISIBLE THROUGH THEM, BUT THE FOCUS IS VERY MUCH OUTSIDE. THE PAIR ARE SHELTERED FROM THE BRIGHT SUNLIGHT BY ONE OF THOSE BIG UMBRELLA/PARASOL THINGS WHOSE ACTUAL NAME I DON’T KNOW THAT YOU FIND STICKING OUT OF TABLES IN SITUATIONS LIKE THIS. ANYWAY THE MAN IS SMALL, NERVOUS AND BALDING, WEARING A BROWN SUIT. THE WOMAN IS LARGE, BLONDE AND LAUGHING, THE EMBODIMENT OF FEMALE VOLUPTUOUSNESS. HER BREASTS COULD SWALLOW HIM.
No dialogue.
Page 1 panel 2
CLOSE UP OF THE WOMAN’S MOUTH – BIG LIPS, SHINY WITH RED LIPSTICK AND WIDE OPEN WITH MIRTH. THE CAVERNS OF HER THROAT ARE FULL OF STARS – COLLAGE MAYBE? PERHAPS A RELEVANT CONSTELLATION. SCORPIO SPRINGS TO MIND FOR ITS SEXUAL CONNOTATIONS. THIS WOMAN IS ESSENTIALLY AN OBJECT OF THE MAN’S LUST AND WE ARE VIEWING HER THROUGH HIS EYES.
No dialogue.
Page 1 panel 3
ZOOM IN AGAIN. ONLY HER (RED, SHINY) TONGUE IS NOW VISIBLE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PANEL, WITH THE SAME STARS FILLING UP THE REST OF THE SPACE. MAN STANDS TINY ON HER TONGUE WITH HIS BACK TO US, LOOKING UP AT THE STARS. HE IS BATHED IN A SORT OF BLUISH PURPLE GLOW, LOOKS ALMOST BRUISED ALL OVER, INCLUDING HIS CLOTHES.
No dialogue.
Page 1 panel 4
NEW TIER. BACK TO THE TABLE. FRAMING SHOULD BE EXACTLY THE SAME AS PANEL 1. MAN HAS NOT MOVED, WOMAN HAS STOPPED LAUGHING BUT GRINS EXPANSIVELY. AN ELDERLY WAITER WITH TREMBLING HANDS NOW STANDS BEHIND THE TABLEAND BETWEEN THEM, SPREADS A PINK AND WHITE CHECKED CLOTH OVER IT. HE (DELIBERATELY?) FACES AWAY FROM BOTH US AND THEM, UNWILLING TO MAKE EYE CONTACT.
No dialogue.
Page 1 panel 5
CLOSE UP OF WAITER’S FACE, MAN AND WOMAN’S HEADS VISIBLE IN THE LOWER CORNERS OF THE PANEL (IF THEY FIT). IN SPITE OF THE FOCUS ON THE WAITER’S FACE, HIS EYES STILL MEET NEITHER OURS NOR THEIRS.
Waiter: If the lady and gentleman wish to take their tea in the garden…
Page 1 panel 6
CLOSE UP OF THE BALDING TOP OF THE MAN’S HEAD AND HIS PERSPIRING BROW.
Waiter: (off panel) If the lady and gentleman wish to take their tea in the garden…
Page 1 panel 7
NEW TIER. AGAIN THE SAME FRAMING AS PANEL 1, THIS TIME WITH THE CLOTH ON THE TABLE. MAN STILL HAS NOT MOVED BUT WOMAN HAS RESUMED HER LAUGHTER, EVEN MORE UNRESTRAINED THAN BEFORE. HER BREASTS SHAKE ALARMINGLY.
No dialogue.
Page 1 panel 8
CLOSE UP OF BREASTS, SHAKING LIKE JELLY.
Woman: Ha ha ha ha ha.
Page 1 panel 9
VIEW FROM BEHIND MAN’S RIGHT EAR, FOCUS STILL ON THE BREASTS. HE NARROWS HIS EYES, CONCENTRATING ON THEM. THE BOTTOM RIGHT HAND CORNER OF THE PANEL BEGINS TO SHATTER AND FALL AWAY. THE IDEA MUST BE SUBTLY GOT ACROSS THAT HE IS TRYING TO PREVENT THIS SHATTERING. WE DO NOT KNOW WHETHER OR NOT HE SUCCEEDS.
No dialogue.
Wednesday 4 February 2009
I guess this is Act 2 of http://wildeyedfanatic.blogspot.com/, which is the blog I rarely updated in 2005. I haven't looked at it for years so it seems pointless to attempt a resurrection at this stage. I doubt I will be updating this one overmuch either, but it feels like I should have one going anyway. Perhaps I shall use it to document creative endeavours.
I had a nosebleed in the shower earlier. My tummy was streaked with red and the shower curtain was stained orange. I couldn't think what else to do so I stood there, nude and bleeding, and waited for it to come to its natural conclusion. It was a lot like being in Psycho only less stabby.
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