Category: Friends Of Semiotic Cohesion
Scotland? Not after those war vets stole it from me! (It's an African joke)
Well Sebastian, well well well. I can blog about the past too. Only in my version, the past happened just last weekend. In Scotland.
Yes friends, I broke a habit of a lifetime and stopped being in a place that wasn't Inverness. I paid way too much for a train journey and a reasonable amount to host a table at Hi-Ex and then let one of these events follow the other.
It was quite nice. I mean that in every way possible. I'm smiling while I write it. I overused the word 'nice' that weekend. I brought great shame to the ghosts of my English teachers, who are probably all dead now. I think they may be used to the dishonour after years of watching me use a comma splice in just about every sentence I write. The poor old shades. Go get some rest!
So I didn't take any photos at all because I lost my camera somewhere downstairs after a particularly successful fondue. But other people are less into that sort of thing and they have by now compiled some vigorous reports and Flickr compilations and what-have-yous, so I'll forego the whole damn report and link to their stuff, even though they seem to have not spent the whole weekend writing alarmingly romantic dedications upon the back cover of Semiotic Cohesion Number Ones recently purchased by teenage boys. I cribbed all the romantic lines from Sebastian, by the way. And the guy from the art supplies table gave me the pen. So I'm really quite far removed from the whole process.
Here are some picture photos taken of the event and Inverness in general from a dangerously delightful and suspiciously talented lady who goes by the name of Melody Lee or, for unknown reasons, TPCat. Her comics are full of animals eating and then/also fucking each other, all lovingly pencil-rendered in a painstakingly soft and whimsical storybook style. Some people wish they were James Bond. I wish I were Melody Lee. She's a lot more useful.
Also, she took a picture of my ass.
Those blogs I mentioned? There are here. Forbidden Planet UK has manifested one, as has Graeme Neil Reid, a fine young man whom I helped load his stuff into the hall on that frosty Saturday morning because I am polite. I didn't actually help him all that much, actually. But you can still go and read about him. I'm sure he's pretty interesting.
And Mr. Jeremy Briggs from Down The Tubes apologised for the spelling mistake his site had made many years ago, chatted for a bit, scooped up all the latest goodies from my table and then I found that he didn't write about me at all. He does have a pretty great picture of a cold dog in his report though, so I can deal.
Now I must go. I am disgustingly ill, with snot and sweat and everything, possibly due to various moral outrages I have committed. I should have got the flu jab this year. Apparently it was a really good one too. The flu jabbing guys were really proud of it. I'm sorry, flujabbers. I should have listened. I thought you were just showing off.
Friends Of Semiotic Cohesion Volume I - Edward Babb
There's a fellow and a man I'd like to bring to your attention. His name is Edward Francis Loverock Babb, my first solid memory of him is his loud assertion, in the corner of the art room, that Episode II of the Star Wars prequels would feature a clone army made entirely from Darth Mauls. "How else do you think the Clone Wars got started?" he said, when I asked him how he knew this. The man had a point.
Anyway! We're all grown up, are a bit wiser in the ways of Star Wars and Ed's got a website now and I'd like to point this website out to the three or four of you who have actually found this part of the site. You see, this Saturday, Ed's having a big old cake sale with all of his artwork and I think you should go if you find yourself in Cape Town on the 24th of this very month of January. Actually, come to think of it, even if you're not in Cape Town you can buy prints directly from his site, so there's really no way you can lose on this one.
So browse till it hurts and pick out the most scrumptious flake of art you see and then make it become part of you. You'll find that the more of Ed's art you add to your bodyself, the more attractive and interesting you will appear to those to whom you wish to love. I have tried this and it has worked.
Here's Ed's favourite:
EDWARD BABB, everybody.
OH, AND PEE ESS,
I should point out that Ed drew the very first comic I wrote that saw print in an actual publication. I won't show you that one, because it is too embarrassing, but as luck would have it he also drew the very second comic I wrote that saw print in an actual publication and you will find it below. It is hopelessly complicated - intended, as tends to be the way, to be JUST ONE PIECE of a SIXTY-ISSUE MEGA-EPIC LIKE THE KIND VERTIGO DO. The mega-epic starred me and Ed and our friends and we had super-powers, but it was dark and awesome. It was set in the future and corporations ran the government! We were adorable and you should have gotten to know us back then.
This particular comic, 'The Misunderstood Adventures Of Edbot & Roz,' features a robot, who has Ed's brain, and another robot, who also has Ed's brain. One is a giant war-machine and the other is a mute cleaning droid. The original Ed has kicked them out of the house, so now they are a comedy duo and then some kids gets killed.
Oh boy, where have I been? I've been right here, rabbiting and squirreling and hedgehogging away at a comic for this competition that is being hosted by Random House and the Observer and some other interesting players. I made a two-page story about an eagle that snatches a human infant and yet, for some reason, does not devour it immediately. I tried to make it as realistic as possible.
Anyway, I finished it this morning after literally trillions of years spent getting incredibly fussy over everything in Painter. Now I'm going to have to find something else I can talk about to everyone I know. Maybe I'll do another comic? Comics are kind of my thing, I guess.
Okay, here's the first panel and another panel that also appears in the comic.
This part is based on the true story.
But this part is entirely fictional.
I'm pretty sure that I'll win the competition. I've spoken about it so often that to not win would be bad narrative flow.
In other news, The Nervous Polymath's brain has melted, so I've recruited an entirely different troubled genius to work on the website and do all that stuff I promised all those months ago. I'm going to carry on calling him The Nervous Polymath though. It's like a Pharaoh name.
Also, I went to Birmingham at some point back there somewhere. Here is some evidence of that:
- This pair is from a comics journalism site of good quality and sound taste. And oh god, I haven't mailed back Gemma yet and thanked her for the kind words. I'm the king of all jerks.
- This is from one of our neighbours, Inspired, who were a bunch of sweet kids who should be loved by everyone.
- This is a report from my own brother, who takes time out to make fun of the sweet kids mentioned above. Way to go, Paul. Now -you're- the king of all jerks!
Oh man, I am going to be late for dinner.
- Tom saves