Get your toes tapping with this one. Taking it back to TMBG, maybe a little Elfman. Colors! Tempos! Doggie? Click through to listen and lyrics and download.
If we speak on matters regarding wealth, I’ll alienate you.
I’ll move my life at a moment’s notice, I’m that much in demand.
I’m simple, with my equipment, keys, and leaves that medicate, soothe,
The puppet strings of this big nation need a steady hand.
“I’m special, I’m a unique snowflake, and you best believe it!”
Sings the mockingbird.
The coder is as the coder makes. Clear the decks, receive a
future without words.
These fruitbats think they’re into me. They shouldn’t be so silly.
The login key to my life’s been encrypted through the stars.
Echolocate another rascal in your belfry city,
and be content in knowing in your very search I played a part.
To save all your love in a bottle,
Write off all your assets as downfalls.
You’ll shave 20 minutes off a conference call,
with the glare of the setting sun.
She routes all her users to safe zones,
sows code redirecting her biome,
I, heir to the soft spiral kingdom,
pack her suitcase with her shame,
as I enjoy my brand new brain.
I work around here.
At point A they make “Direct Mail.” Printing millions of “Get the best rates on life insurance!” cards, sent unsolicited to thousands of doors.
Point B is the entrance to the landfill.
I think I know how to save a hell of a lot of time and effort!
WEBWORLD, the term project for a visual rhetoric class i’ve been taking, is now “finished.” i made it in 6 days so it’s smaller than i would have liked and a little confusing in places.
despite that, i hope you have fun reading it since i wanted this to be an enjoyable comic first and something i get a grade for second. my biggest regret is not having enough time to write a theme song for it.
p.s. when you get to The Big Page i would recommend resizing your browser window if you have a large monitor. it’s more fun to navigate if it feels like it’s a little viewport into an Earthbound dungeon.
making progress on this headache of a class project. it’s not turning out quite how i imagined it, but i have to cut a lot of corners to save time because there are like 8 more pages to be completed by tuesday and some of them will have animation. this isn’t even for an art class wth
the angel comic is going to be something you reach by clicking a linkzone on the “i’ve read webcomics, they all suck” speech balloon in page 2, in order to show avery’s idea of what a webcomic looks like.
This is so great
After a talk with a friend put this into perspective, I decided I’m going to stop waiting around for a studio date that may never happen, and let some people hear my music. This particular set dates back to 2007, a creative explosion in the face of getting my new computer setup. It’s in the art rock vein with some progressive elements.
This is from a different time lyrically, so this is probably the last you’ll hear me sing about war and religion and the big demons. I’m more about sexy ghost chicks now. But the jams are where it’s at, and I don’t want to be all revisionist. 2007 me was pretty cool as well. Look at that hair.
I’m putting the final touches on it here at home, and it will be up on Bandcamp on Tuesday for a name-your-own-price download. Gonna try to tweak it so that those who pay get in on some freaky bonus tracks.
Cream in her cup, she stirs the light up through the cafe window
Faced with her books, a rainy night, and some pathetic creeper.
Old sugar packs lay scattered round
Like whitewashed leaves of autumn
gathered for her diving pleasure.
Poltergeists, procedures and prescriptions
Plenty of fish in her filthy sea.
She dreams of the hedge where she used to hide
sticking her little wrists through wrought iron
Snatching for souls on Halloween night -
Look in her bag, she’s got mine.
Hands on her purse, she’s on a date, they go and see a movie.
No chance to talk, the trailers run for some moronic sequel.
Looks over to her at each line that’s meant coax a laugh - that’s
when her skeleton collapses.
Ghoulish transformations, so handy for shaking dull bros.
Father’s calling her home
Past electrical fields
Loves how the lightning streaks her hair
in startled shocks of silver.
Green colored moss to buff her nails-
inhale the ergot and dream.
Graves in the marsh for her massage,
lie still, their hands will find you.
Summon a simple pentagram,
Old friends are glad to fright you.
Take some time to stroke your cat
Dark shining fur, familiar.
Sit where the monstrous elders sat
and summoned plagues of winter.
Spirit restored, she takes the train
back to the city, knowing
her retreats are so much better.