March Graphic Projects

So I have had a very busy few weeks and I must admit I have allowed my blogging to lapse. Mostly I have spent my free time consumed on a few graphic art projects that I have been creating to decorate my apartment with. So in lieu of any sort of contextual blog this week I thought I would share my art.

I call this one Geek Iconology. I wanted to create something that used all the great symbols and small visual icons of the shows/movies/books/comics/etc that I love and have enjoyed over the years. Most icons I was able to pull off the Internet, but some I had to actually recreate by hand. Ironically, it was choosing the proper arrangement that actually proved to be the hardest part of this piece. See how many you can recognize. 

I call this one The Block and the Bold. I was inspired by the minimalist artwork I have been checking out lately online, and I really wanted something that would prove to be iconic but without infringing on any copyright laws. The objects was to make the characters visually recognizable but still within minimalist constraints. I tried to limit the use of colors for each character and for the whole piece, however I was forced to use four different types of green. Everything is created with manipulated shapes (mostly blocks) created in Photoshop.



A Cliche in King Arthur's Court

In a fit of boredom I was flipping through the channels last night and happened across the horrible 2003 film, Timeline (based on the equally horrible book.) Basically it is the story of archaeologists who are flung back in time due to the machinations of an evil corporation, who has apparently discovered time travel and cannot find anything better to do with it than use it to try and kill an old archaeology professor. Our main characters of the story find themselves in the midst of an "exciting" battle between the French and English in the 1300's, and yet the only thing that really got me through the movie was waiting for the appearances of Billy Connolly and trying to trick myself into thinking I might be watching Boondock Saints.

I remember the advertising for this movie when it was first released. The original trailer likened the journey back through to time to 14th century France as the equivalent of a journey to hell. Personally, I think that is kind of harsh. Granted it is a journey to France and even in modern days that can be a trying experience, but the 1300's are hardly hell. I mean they speak languages we know and can interpret, they fight and live by ethics we clearly understand. This makes even less sense when you think that the archeologists sent back were all at least knowledgeable in the time period in which they were sent back to (because the movie opens with them conducting an archaeological dig at the very sight the aforementioned battle took place in.

This did get me thinking about being transported back in time and how well an average person might fair in a historical time period. Obviously some time periods would be easier then others for certain people. For instance, the Ninja Turtles seemed to fair pretty well in feudal Japan, and the closer you get to modern times the easier it would be to adapt. I mean Marty McFly did well enough in the Wild West version of his home town. You also need to take into account the relation of the ancient culture to the culture of the traveler. For instance, I know very little about the customs and beliefs of the Babylonians, but I am well prepared for 1940's America. Language is an issue as well, because even though Ancient Rome is a predecessor to modern western culture, I still dont' think my 5 years of Latin will allow me to very conversant with the locals. I do not think me repeating, "Equus amo" (I like horse), to everyone I meet is going to get me very far.

Movies about time travel have often proven
that the only people who travel through time
are those who are barely qualified to travel
to the local supermarket.

However even beyond those basic problems I have to wonder if we as modern humans would have any real advantage over our ancient counterparts. In the movie Bill Connolly, is able to prove himself useful to his medieval captors by using his "big-future-brain" to make them Greek Fire, (a substance that burns hotter the more water that is added to it.) That is all well and good and a perfect example of how a modern human can use his higher intellect to survive in ancient times, except not really. You see Greek Fire was invented by the Byzantine Empire, and its secret was so closely guarded that the knowledge of how to replicate the substance was lost to history after the Byzantium Empire fell. In other words, Billy Connolly could not know how to make Greek Fire, because in modern times we do not know how to make Greek Fire. I suppose we can argue that being a modern human of average intelligence we could find a close proximate formula. After all, we know that gasoline burns and is resistant to water (but so did people in medieval times,) or that hyper-accelerants such as magnesium will burn brighter when water is applied to them, but that raises other questions. I mean where do you find magnesium and/or how do you manufacture a jet-fuel like accelerant? It is a process that would require highly specialized knowledge that the average modern human does not have.

Really, I keep coming back to the conclusion that modern humans with no special training may not fair too well when thrown back into an ancient scenario. I mean think about it, many modern humans do not even understand how to fix their home computer, and even worse, thanks to the advent of video games and air conditioning most people nowadays will probably find themselves in worse physical condition than their ancient counterparts. Even people with specialized survival training such as people with army training or woodsman experience may still find the task overwhelming. I mean, just because you can take down a deer at 300 yards with a hunting rifle does not necessarily prepare you to use a sword or a spear in combat, and how often does the US Army teach charioteering anymore.

Nonetheless, a specialized skill will always prove more useful than your average couch potato. Engineers, chemists, and especially doctors could probably get by on their skills and knowledge to -at least- prove useful to an ancient society, but even that is questionable. Obviously aerospace and/or computer engineers would find their expertise somewhat antichronal, plastic surgeons probably would not find much work in ancient times, and depending on where and when you land up, chemists or other scientists could just as well find themselves tied to a stake as a crowd lights them on fire while screaming, "witch." Even people who train themselves in ancient culture will probably still have a difficult time overcoming anyone or anything they meet. I mean just because you work at medieval times as a jouster doesn't mean you could probably beat real knights in a jousting tournament, and even though you take three classes a week on how to wield a katana, my money would still be on your samurai opponent who has been practicing with his sword since he could stand upright.

Coming this Fall to MTV and the History Channel.

Our real advantage would most likely be our understanding of history, but even that is not really too reliable. I mean unless you are a highly specialized historian who happens to fall into his/her specialized time period, you probably still will not find the lessons that you learned in 10th grade history class specifically useful, even if you manage to remember them. After all, just because you land in Revolutionary Times, and your general knowledge of history tells you that America wins the Revolution, you still may not necessarily know who will win the momentary battle that you find raging around you. Additionally, the further back in history you go the less reliable historical facts become. There are whole centuries of human history that we are really only guessing at. Any specific or first-hand accounts were either never created or were lost over the adjoining centuries. This makes even scholarly historical knowledge for any age is spotty at best, and completely incorrect at worst.

So who might be the best modern human to survive in ancient times? Bear Grylls? Tony Stark? Whoopi Goldberg? I cannot be sure, nor could anyone until they are faced with that possibility. The answers to these question are as unknown as the mysteries of the past. I suppose it will always vary based not only upon the traveler but also upon what time period they are sent to. All I know is that this sounds like an awesome premise for a reality show. It might even be one I would actually watch.

Friday's

Picture courtesy of Graham Smith

"So the wall explodes and there is like plaster everywhere. The people in the inside are all like, 'Oh my God, what's going on?' So as the dust settles I make my entrance and I do the maniacal laughter-thing, of course, and announce, I am the Mandroid, yadda yadda yadda... You know the typical speech. That's when that douche, Half-Life, shows up. He trashes my robot minions and the next thing I know I'm getting a face full of his radiation blast... I mean come on, radiation blast. That doesn't even sound safe. They call me a menace yet their hero is a walking Three-Mile Island. If I get cancer I am so suing his ass."

I stand there wiping down a dirty beer mug as I listen to the man. He gets suddenly silent and mumbles something into his glass of liquor.

"How'd you get away?" I finally ask as I finish cleaning the mug.

"Get this," he said with a laugh. "I made him think one of my minions was wired with explosives. I gave him the ol' 'save them or catch me' speech. What an idiot."

"I didn't think you were the bank robbery type, Mandroid?" I said as I poured the brightly colored-clad man another drink.

"You know how expensive it is to have robot minions? Enhanced neural processors don't grow on trees you know."

"Barkeep, I think I'll take that kicker./Give me a drink of your best liquor," called the man from at the far end of the bar.

"I think you have had enough, Quizzy," I said to the man as I hobbled down to him.

"Nonsense, for I am the Quiz Master,/and I won't be ordered about by some drink caster." The man stood up from his bar stool and brandished some kind of staff that extended in his hand. I noticed how his purple and gold sports jacket hung off him like a cheap suit.

"Drink caster? Your rhyming is making less sense than usual. You're cut off." I motioned to Edward in the corner.

The big hulking brute of a man lumbered his way toward the bar and picked up the slender squirming drunk from where he stood. With very little effort he carried him to the front entrance of the bar and tossed him like a rag doll through the open door. In a past life, Edward had been known as Two-Ton, a third string villain in Titan City's super-criminal underworld. That was before he got clean and I gave him a job. When you cater to the type of clientele I do it helps to have a seven-foot, super strong, near-indestructible bouncer at the ready.

Of course, there were still some mishaps, a year before some mercenary named Raymond Gunn shot up the place. He destroyed my prized pool table. Then there was the time Professor Nightmare started a brawl with Kid Cyanide because the kid was hitting on Nightmare's girlfriend, The Couger.  Still, for the most part everyone remained civil. They all knew my bar as a place they could wind down. Really super-villains are just like anyone else. All they want is a place where they can go and forget about the world for a while. I like to think I offer that. My name is James Joseph Friday but most people nowadays call me...

"JJ," the voice called my name from across the bar. I turned to find my newest employee, Gill Laridae backing away from the bar top with a gun pointed at his chest.

"What is the problem, Gill?" I said as I hobbled my way toward him.

"I'll tell you what the problem is," said a small big headed man as he stood on top of his bar stool. His tiny child-like hands clutching the firearm like a professional killer. "This kid asked me for ID. Don't you know who I am, kid?"

"Gill," I said calmly, "this is Child Endangerment. He only looks like a kid. Really he's 42 years old."

"I'm 41," said the big headed assassin as he put away his gun away and sat back down. "Now how about that drink?"

"Coming right up," I motioned for Gill to pour his drink order and to his credit the kid snapped out of his stupor and got to work. It's always a little disconcerting the first time you have a customer push a gun or a knife or a fully charged plasma cannon in your face, but in this business you learn to get over it fast, or you quit. I have gone through more than my fair share of employees. Most quit, but a few disappeared without much of a trace. No two ways around it, you had to be tough to work in this industry.

I watched my table waitress Georgia Atlanta as she slapped some guy who looked like he was half-octopus and half-human. I guess he was getting too touchy feely with her, as customer sometimes do. Georgia is one of those people who can handle herself. She used to be a villainess by the name of Southern Bedlam, but she gave it up when her son was born. She moved out west to Titan City to get a fresh start.

"What's it like to be a villain?" asked Gill later on after he had calmed down. The kid had an abnormal fascination with super-villainy and I knew where that path led. I had hoped to dissuade him from it by hiring him on as my part-timer. I wanted to show him that it wasn't all fun and grand larceny.

"Its not anything you want to be a part of kid," I said as I tapped a new keg. I hefted the large metallic cylinder underneath the bar with a grunt. It was another reminder that I was not as young as I used to be. I stood and wiped off my hands with a nearby dish towel. When I turned back around the kid was still looking at me expectantly.

"Listen, kid," I said as I put down the towel. "you don't want to get mixed up in this world. It never ends well. Look at Dr. Zirconium over there." I motioned to a large hulking monster sitting alone in the corner. Underneath his white torn lab coat his skin looked like it was made of jagged crystalline material.

"Dr. Zee used to be a Nobel-prizing winning metallurgist, until one of his experiments went horribly wrong. Sure, the accident gave him increased strength and skin almost as hard as diamond, but it also reduced his intelligence down to that of a twelve year old. Super-villainy always comes with a price. It ain't worth it."

"What about you?" said Gill. He reached into his pocket and he pulled out an old picture, and suddenly I was staring at a memory I hadn't thought about in a long time. There I stood in a black and white jumpsuit. I had this great big mask covering my eyes and the days of the week were written all over my damn costume.

I took the picture from his hand. "God, look at this. I looked ridiculous. Look at my mustache. What was I thinking?"

"You used to be Joe Friday," persisted Gill. "You used to run around with a calendar pinned to your chest. How can you tell me being a villain isn't worth it?"

"First off, it was a weekly planner not a calendar. Second off, I was never much of a villain. It turns out planning your schemes based around a weekly schedule makes you a bit too predictable."

"But everything turned out alright for you. You're fine..."

I don't usually get angry but all the questions along with the old photo had me riled up, "Kid, I was one of the lucky ones. Some of the guys I knew from the old days, King Carnivore, the Piper, Lady Gravity, they weren't so lucky. Most of them are dead or in jail. Damn, the Emerald Hood has spent the last twenty years trapped in some kind of parallel hell-dimension. Is that what you want to happen to you?"

"No," he said meekly.

"I was lucky. Shining Templar only broke my leg in four places when he captured me. I spent a few years in jail and now I got a bum leg to show for all of my troubles, but after all that I decided to go legit. Take it from me. Make an honest living, its a lot less hazardous to your health."

I shoved the old picture back in his trembling hands. "Watch the bar. I'm going out back for a smoke." I left the poor dumbfounded kid alone at the bar. His shocked face the last thing I saw before the back door swung shut behind me. I fumbled for a cigarette and lit it with one of the matches I had in my back pocket. The first drag was like a warm blanket. All the tension and anger seemed to drain away as I stood there smoking and watching the sky over Titan City.

Its an old habit, I suppose, watching the skies. Its something most villains learn to do in their careers. You never know when some guy in a cape and long-johns is going to come swinging down and ruin your day. Even though I hadn't committed a crime in over two decades I guess it was still a hard habit to let go of.

I knew there were still times when I felt the urge and the old excitement would start to kick up again. Friday the 13th's were always the worse days for me, but I had been clean for too long to let myself fall back into old ways. Besides, I was too old to play the game anyway. A man had to admit his limitations and I knew mine. Idly I stretched my bum leg.

I wasn't a villain anymore. I was just a bartender, and that was good enough.