Gesamtkunstwerk

x said to y: "my mother's mother is your father's mother, and my father's mother is your mother's mother."
y said to x: "but my mother's father and father's father are both the same as yours."

take 4 people.
call them a, b, c, d, and they're alternate women and men.
ok fuckit let's give them names. amy, brad, carmen, daniel (all guys from my class =p)
imagine if

amy married brad
brad married carmen
carmen married daniel...
and daniel married amy.

each union bore one child: 2 girls, 2 boys.
let's call them 1 2 3 4.
now since each adjacent is a stepsibling, they marry the other:
1 and 3,
2 and 4.
isn't it cool? think of when their in-laws met.
but anyway, one child each.

x and y.

what if... x and y marry? z the golden baby?
no, z is a boring baby.
there's nothing unusual about his lineage up till his grandparents - maternal and paternal being stepsiblings.

but x and y will have their grandparents the original radicals.
think of it like one generation on the tree did a switcheroo and tangled the downlines.
x will have amy and brad for maternal grandparents, carmen and daniel for paternal.
y will have brad and carmen for m.gp., daniel and amy for p.gp.
x and y will have the same 4 people, just with swapped roles.
actually, no... just swapped grandmothers. same grandfathers.

x and y will fucking share grandparents.

freakyfuckedupfreakyshit. i'd like to see that one day.

yesterday i opened my gormenghast, long untouched under cutting edge advertising II and creating desire (also about advertising). of course, i was lost. biasalah... tracked back a few pages. nada. tracked back a few chapters. still nothing made sense. tracked back a lot of chapters. nope. tracked back too many chapters, and decided - it's all over again!

it actually starts off quite nicely: there's this guy rottcodd, whose job is to dust every sculpture in the Hall of Bright Carvings, day in, day out. fascinatingly boring, until flay the castle supervisor shows up, stuffs him with cryptic news and ciaos. then we follow flay in 3rd-person camera and see his nefarious thoughts of the castle tenants as he passes them - this is where the huge host of characters pour in. which u feel is a pretty nice device to intro characters, when the camera latches onto one steerpike, whose minor adventures with the cook encounter flay's plot.

and before u know it, u have >10 characters running in your head and nothing major has happened. i lost the thread somewhere around princess fuchsia. the good thing is, it is bloody long but reads fast, and the bad thing is i never read fast, and a worse thing is when i did... i forget every scrap.

on the other hand.

the comic 100 bullets deserves 2nd, 3rd, multiple reads. it took me twice to fully understand it, and even after, everytime u read it u see something new. the chapters are separate stories, but still linear, not patched together... like sin city. which the common thing in each book is a scene at a bar, kadies'? on the night of chance of every book's hero. and with the film, another little downside is exposed... there're too many words!

this artist eduardo risso is a master - illustrative style like in those old roald dahl books. covers done by another genius called dave johnson. writer is one brian azzarello. maybe here's the difference... they're a team while frank miller was a one-man show. except for occasional colours done by his wife.

remember humberto ramos? why all the latinos? there's this other guy who did strictly comic strips, which're history, whom i was into a few years back. argentinian horacio altuna. have his whole collection (heh, heh). he was no cartoonist, he was pure artist. the french are good too. there's this comic called tellos - think the guy's name was rousseau. and of course the asterix greats... goscinny & uderzo? not too good with french names, although uderzo was italian.

so it's something like: risso is 90's illustrator style, rousseau and ramos are surrealism, miller is an impressionist, altuna looks like he had Renaissance training, goscinny uderzo are pop art - 'cartoon' in every sense of the word. and all their works are Art, in every sense of the word. i like.

and that's it for tonight.

i trammed home this evening
and saw a rarefied sight:
a woman, she was reading
a spellbook of Delight

i looked upon the arcane script
from over her shoulder,
and smiled unto myself at this
one irony and wonder

neither pictures neither words,
the sentences of spell
scored the page relentlessly
and complicated as hell

i stared and suddenly realized
that Delight, everyone knew -
it's just her language u've to learn
and i was sure i could read it too


wtflah, wrote a bit more but haven't touch up. grrrr not enough time or i'm too slow? it's suddenly the middle, no, 2/3 of hurricane October. that's one scary fraction. 2 posts since september slumber. cibaaaaaaaaiii. i'm like a yo-yo, Time rocks me in a cradle and swings me round the world. november dawns i'm not ready to goooooooooo!

it's back to flashmania!(tm) after this. target timeframe 10 days.

so anyway yesterday i caught myself photoshoping with my keyboard. it feels good. and then, suddenly i'm listening to prodigy. wtf? hahahhh, got those from my cousin... and it gets weirder, the files' date created are 1997.

dloading cowboy bebop soundtrack. watch or just listen, else u miss out big time.

flashflashflashfasfhlahhhhhhhhh

i did not write about how my presentation went. let's just say cangie was impressed heh heh. she thought it took some balls to do what i did, while i? =p ceh, not the first time!

today my document was due, 5pm. out the window!
i woke up around 2.30, thought, fuckitlah.
then kevin came in.
ey, what's he doing? bring it on.
phoom!
how's your work, any progress? come and see. ok cool.
how's your work? come and see! ok cool - upstairs.

when i came down... it was 5pm+.
phoom! phoom!
now it's 6.30 and i'm going to shower.

life is good.

document, flash, copywriting all due in tomorrow. a lot of writing and flash refining tonight. and writing. i Can write! and since my enetation is fucked, this is to ann: poetry is finding the pointless beauty in the mundane. anything can be used. weee!

and friday night... phoom!

i woke up at 0600, got up at 0900. i've truly awoken; september is history. weeklong break wasted, is it any surprise?

this blog is set to display the 10 most recent entries. if u bother to scroll down, u can read the rather-stupid post about rappers of old orient. prior to this, however, it was june 27, where i wrote "in the wake of fall, dotted by gold-flecked skeletal trees, elizabeth street stretched into the morning." apart from being a beautifully crafted sentence, it contains a darker revelation: that my rate of blogging has plummeted to 10 per season.

speaking of which, i'll soon be able to say things like "the summer of my 21st year". it's a limited privilege as malaysia is deprived of the 4 seasons' poetry. for better or worse - there's nothing poetic about quaking in little spasms and not feeling your toes. now i'm fucking myself, becoz i'm writing crap about winter, when it's longer gone than september.

anyway for project music i've been fooling with this sound prog called (of all things) fruityloops. u can tweak all kinds of shit on all kinds of instruments with this, but have just One bar of triplets, how do u work it? new file, new tempo, new everything. there is still No substitute for human hands. other than fruityloops i'm still at stage #1. not forgetting i still need another method for music. not forgetting there's other work to tend to. not forgetting there's another week after this. not forgetting my next weekend will be spent in tuhandapur!

as with All projects... starting hours-countdown...