Sunday, November 23, 2008

Dreams

Dream November 19, 2008







I am going to quit doing films for awhile after my next cartoon, After Many A Summer Dies The Swan, Aldous Huxley. I will not do another cartoon until, I see a certain tangible reward or else a minimum amount of time has passed.

I have to thank Michael Land, CEO of SmashMash for without whom this website would not be possible. I pointed out that I am going to for the most part, quit the travel magazine trip, no pun intended. This walking around different cities and photographing and doing writeups like National Geographic, that is not on. Also travel music videos with me walking around different towns set to music. That is not on. I mean I will do that again, but only as something very rare rather than a regular, often, and ongoing thing. I plan a trip to Ottawa. I am still undecided about moving to Nova Scotia.

I am only doing the cartoons. I have to thank SmashMash which has given me the choice. Of course there are half a dozen animation and film programs free to the public like Windows Movie Maker, Pivot, Accumedia, Macromedia Flash, Aniboom, but I use SmashMash only which has an excellent built in algorythm for animation and it suits my purposes, anyways.

I will spend my hiatus watching movies and playing video games. I bought a dozen video games since my last video game review. I could do a write up. Mainly PSP video games. Juiced 2, Midnight Club LA Express, Lego STAR WARS, Lego Indiana Jones, The Force Unleashed, Lumines, Tony Hawk, Lord of the Rings PSP, Atari's Space Invaders 25 year anniversary edition, Need For Speed Undercover, some real good ones, as you can see.

Since I saw the movie in Grande Prairie, I also got Harry Potter, Order of the Phoenix on Nintendo GBA.

You will know when I decide to do films again. If I get a lot of letters from my fans, it would definitely tempt me to start up again sooner, otherwise, it is, why bother because no one cares.

To all people using YouTube music and SmashMash to make videos: Over the months, a few of my music videos have been taken off YouTube due to copyright claims from the musicians of certain songs. Most of my videos are all right though.

From now on, I will do the cartoons, and/or narrated bits of my videos exclusively separate from the music portion which is the opening and closing credits. Now if in the future, any of my cartoons are deleted, I still have the cartoon narration only segments of my cartoons separate from the opening and closing score segments and will reupload the cartoon onto YouTube without the opening and closing music credits.

I am really taking my old sweet time about my next 3 cartoons: William Burroughs' Junky, Aldous Huxley's After Many A Summer, and then Rumplestiltskin.

I have a new toy called the Sony PSP 3000. When I watch television and my mind gets relaxed, when I walk away from the television, I go for the PSP. I guess when I have become all PSP'ed out, then during those times when me and my relaxed mind walks away from the television, I will do the cartoons.

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Dream, Thursday November 27th, 2008





Self explanatory in the video.

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Thursday, November 13, 2008

Dean Noble's The Titanic

Dean Noble's The Titanic animated cartoon







opening







part one








part two







This is going to be a very short cartoon. I just want to pick out a couple of random choice moments. A moment at the bar, just before a sailor is to set sail for the Titanic. This is the first cartoon made of the Titanic. If there were any cartoons made of the Titanic before, I don't know about it.

Sailor: We've been drinking in this pub all afternoon. This is one of the best pubs in town. Ssssssshhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiitttttttt! Look at the time. No, don't even bother standing up to leave the table and walk out of here. We are late for the departure of the ship. The ship leaves at noon. Look, it's noon now!

The Titanic sails away from the harbour. On board the Titanic.

Homage to a famous film; man to woman: Even if you decide to leave me, I still have my daughter.

Woman: She is not your daughter.

Bandleader in tux: Tonight, we are going to start with a classic. Hit it!

Ensemble Titanic band plays a jazzy instrumental from the big band era.

Homage to SNL, Bandleader: Next we have an experimental band from Sweden.

A short clip of ABBA singing Waterloo.

The captain, with others at the table: I have been a captain of ships and my reputation has been one of comportment and high professionalism which is synonymous with the high class of this esteemed line.

The ship shakes as it strikes an iceberg.

The captain: What the fuck was that?!

On the deck of the Titanic: Women and Children First!

Bandleader: Strike up the band!

Music from the earlier dinner recital is heard.

The Titanic sinks in the distance. The lights go out on that fateful liner for the last time.

The survivors, in a lifeboat row away in rowboats.

Survivor one: Uggghhhh Gawd!

Survivor two: What's wrong? Are you reeling in shock because you have just witnessed as well as been a part of one of the greatest maritime disasters?

Survivor one: No, I left a suitcase full of money on that ship. It held a few hundred thousand dollars.

The survivors of the Titanic lived happily ever after.


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The Dean Noble Zone Christmas Special

The Dean Noble Zone Christmas Special








Ebenezer Scrooge in the bank building: Still want it to be the meanest.


Narrator: Over the fields, over the houses of a winter neighbourhood.

Narrator at all times:

A sled falls down a hill. "Dip your scarf in the peanut butter just like in the old days.

A rich house on the hill. Christmas presents to be given out in the living room.

Visiting an underground Christmas mall.

During a Christmas morning in the forest, Santa gets on his sleigh.

In the night, over the housetops, the Santa sleigh teleports and locates itself in lots of places simultaneously.

Even the ETs in their spaceships like to celebrate Christmas.

The main story around the Christmas celebration is the birth of a baby in a stable. The baby was born in a trough used to feed horses called a manger. This child would grow to be the King of the souls of millions of people for two thousand years since his appearance on Earth. Jesus Christ would be someone who gives Hope to lots of people, and Jesus is someone who provides the foundations for a spiritual life, a better life.

Merry Christmas to all.

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William Burrough's Junky and Interzone

William Burrough's Junky animated cartoon
adapted and abridged



http://video.google.ca/videoplay?docid=7787544216554700224


http://vimeo.com/3045491





the first part: opening






part 2: A dream that I had of Burroughs when I was in Thailand, with the true and real time soundtrack.










part 3: Main Narrative







The fourth installment: Closing credits.


I was raised in a solid, three story house in a large city. My parents were very well educated.

It was in the summer of 1944 during the war that I first used heroin. My friend Norton worked at the shipyards. One August evening, he visited my apartment with a machine gun and a small pharmaceutical box like a first aid kit with five 1 tenth gram syrettes of morphine tartrate. A syrette is like a triangular toothpaste tube. There would be a pin which would puncture a needle. This needle would then be ready to use.

I knew of a short order cook named Jack. "The morphine I could get rid of right away. The Tommy gun will take a bit of time. The law. Let's take a walk."

At Jack's apartment, there was a man. A friend of Jack's. Waves of hostility emanated from him like a television broadcast. The effect was like a physical attack.

In the city, I met a girl named Lillian. She invited me to her apartment. She saw me looking at a Chinese character she had on the wall. "I wonder what that says?" she wondered. "Shirts cleaned 31 cents." I said. She walked around, opening and closing her robe showing me her anatomy in installments. "I have a rare disease. Only a few cases on record."
Amphetamines is a good kick. Take them along with sleeping pills. They get down there and have a fight. It's a good drive.
At the 24 hour cafe in Times Square New York, there Lillian and I sat together. She put on some Victrola piccolo records on the jukebox and beat her hands on the table with the expression of a masturbating idiot.

I heard that amphetamines were supposed to be a real spiritual drug, or at least an empathy drug. I thought of people I have not seen for years, even people whom I did not like and who did not like me. "They're OK," I thought, "But just the same I don't want to contact them ever again."

I decided to sell heroin. That way I could make some money as well as keep up my habit. However, it wound up being more trouble than it was worth. Most of the customers were constantly asking for credit and most of them could be counted on to spill under the slightest Police questioning and certainly not one of them who could not be expected not to confess after a punch to the jaw.

One of my customers had just arrived from a plane trip. During the 50s, they did not check people so much. My friend was on the airplane and injected the syrette intramuscularly in his leg while he was sitting in coach, looking out the window. He even went through customs with a spot of blood on his pants leg which no one noticed!


The Police arrested me and after drawing a Court Summons, I decided to move to New Orleans.

In a bar at New Orleans I enjoyed a dozen oysters and about seven glasses of beer. After drinking the beer, I felt as if my knees had been clipped from under me. I went to my hotel room, lay on the bed and fell asleep right away.

While in New Orleans, I was with some friends in a car I had just bought. The Police flashed their lights. Cole had a joint and put it in his shirt pocket. The Police soon found the joint in Cole's pocket.
"I got enough here to hold the whole bunch of you." A lawyer got me out in the morning. After this, I decided to move to the Rio Grande Valley.

During the Twenties real estate operators brought trainloads of prospects down to the Valley. A premonition of death hangs over the Valley. Death is the absence of life. Whereever life withdraws, death and rot move in. Whatever it is, lifeforce, orgones, there is not enough of it in the Valley. Food rots before you can get it home. Milk sours before the meal is finished. Old men sitting in real estate offices say, "Well this is nothing new. I have seen this all before. I remember back in '28..."

I moved to Mexico and immediately started looking for junk which has a certain energy. Whenever one passes through a transient part of town within a central hub of a main arterial network of metro buses and transportation in and out of the area, that is an area where there is junk lurking.
An area with strange wig shops, pawn shops, clothes hemmed and chop suey restaurants, an area where marginal businesses operate within a Skid Row. One day if the Earth ended and junk were gone from the earth, these junkies might still be lurking in these junk neighbourhoods, ghosts, feeling the vague and persistent lack of junk sickness.
Lupita was the main drug dealer of downtown Mexico City at the time dealing out her papers of heroin like an Aztec goddess.
One day in Mexico, my friend Ike visited me when I was without heroin, and sick and wondering when my next hit would come. I asked him if he scored any heroin. He said no and watch my eyes sick with disappointment. He then smiled and his spiderly wrinkly smile spread wide across his junky monkey face. He said that he did indeed have some heroin watching the instant change of mood. He had the heroin, to a junkie who was junk sick, the dealer was a high Priest adminstering to a grateful penitent.
"Got a little cocaine as well." Ike said.
"Come on in." I said.
"Be careful with the coke, it's strong stuff. He put a little bit of cocaine at the end of a butter knife and then emptied it into the spoonful of the morphined water. The coke dissolved like snow flakes hitting hot water.
A red spurt of blood flowed through the needle.
The cocaine hit in a sweet dizzying wave. My breath was heavy.
I then decided to drink a cup of tea.
Ike was livid. "That Bastard has ripped me off! He won't last a month!" His mouth was twisted with hate.

Afterwards, I travelled on to other countries like Tangier.


PS



Watch more cool animation and creative cartoons at aniBoom


I have a new friend. Aniboom. They are an online animation house. The history of my cartooning and illustrative distal oeuvre should include at least a couple of cartoons uploaded to aniboom.



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William Burrough's Interzone animated cartoon
adapted and abridged


"We have a new type of rule now. Not one-man rule or rule, or rule of aristocracy or plutocracy, but of small groups elevated to positions of absolute power by random pressures, and subject to political and economic factors that leave little room for decision. They are representatives of abstract forces who have reached power through surrender of self. The iron-willed dictator is a thing of the past. The rulers of this most insecure of all worlds are by accident, inept, frightened pilots at the controls of a vast machine they cannot understand, calling in experts to tell them which buttons to push."
William Burroughs, Interzone







opening







part one








part two


adapted: Mostly faithful to the story, however in some places paraphrased or with a few details done differently.

abridged: shortened.


Junky is going to be more challenging than Interzone. Essentially, Junky is a novel a couple of hundreds of pages long, whereas Interzone is just a seven page write up. These are very great stories. This is going to be a straight rendition of these stories. Burroughs wrote a lot of details which were lurid, he lived a lifestyle that I would not approve of, and which I do not want to talk about so they will not be displayed in the cartoons. Not because of, but rather in spite of his strange lifestyle, I still find William Burroughs to be a very compelling writer with an excellent poetic instincts and a very intellectual style of narrative.
I have to extrapolate the best parts of Junky, otherwise it would have to be a two hour movie.
The thing about Junky is that I read the book about a hundred times and I know very well the images that come to my mind time and time again when I read those certain paragraphs.
As drawings, Interzone is more challenging. I have to look at pictures of Tangiers and study them to get a general idea of the graphic structure so I can channel the essential needed building shapes when it comes time to draw the pictures. I channel, I see the animal in my mind, feel the line structure and then draw the animal.
Junky is a druggie adventure, very much like Dr Hunter S Thompson's Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas which was written twenty years later. Junky was set in the 50s, FALILV was written in the 70s.
Interzone is a novel which encapsulates the theme of travel. For some people life can only be lived as a traveller, as long as one is not in a hometown which has a dreaded familiarity, they are travelling.

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Saturday, November 1, 2008

George Orwell's A Clergyman's Daughter

George Orwell's A Clergyman's Daughter
animated cartoon
adapted and abridged











http://vimeo.com/3045412


A clanging alarm clock.

Narrator: The alarm clock continued its nagging feminine clamour and would go on for five minutes or thereabouts if you did not stop it. Dorothy was aching from head to foot. She struggled against her fatigue, however, and according to her custom, exhorted herself sharply in the second person plural. Come on, Dorothy, up you get! No snoozing please! Proverbs 6:9.

Narrator: The kitchen fire was a beast to light. The chimney was crooked and therefore perpetually half choked, and the fire, before it would light, expected to be dosed with a cupful of kerosene, like a drunkard's morning nip of gin. Having set the kettle to boil for her father's shaving water, Dorothy went upstairs and turned on her bath. Putting a tentative hand into the water, and it was horribly cold, she drove herself forward with her usual exhortations. Come on, Dorothy! In you go! No funking please! Then she stepped resolutely into the bath, sat down, and let the icy girdle of water slide up her body.

Narrator: She had remembered with the ugly shock with which one remembers something disagreeable for the first time in the morning, the bill at Cargill's, the butchers, which had been owing.

Narrator: St Athelstan's stood at the highest point of Knype Hill, and if you chose to climb the tower, you could see the ten miles or so across the surrounding country.

On the way to the butcher's to pay the bill, she developed amnesia.

She awoke later in downtown London and wound up with a bunch of hop pickers and spent time in the countryside picking hops.
She slowly gets back her memory. She wrote a letter to her father.
Of course her father did worry about her in his own fashion. The first letter he wrote was not to Dorothy herself, but to his cousin Tom, the baronet. For a man of the Rector's upbringing it was second nature, in any serious trouble, to turn to a rich relative for help.

Dorothy worked for a couple of months at a one room schoolhouse teaching children.

In the end, she wound up moving back to her father's house.





This cartoon is dedicated to Sarah.
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