Wordless Workshop

Apologies to Roy Doty & Popular Mechanics

Get Your Kookie Awn!,

Here's 77 Sunset Strip Comics as a response to the ever amusing and informative Baikinange's Shadenfreudian Therapy blog, where she generously provided the 77 Sunset Strip Album.

In its entirety ...... at the link embedded in any of the images below, or here.





GOD FORBID SHE GIVES ME A LINK

NOTE: Many of these images are part of the "Sequitur" Flash Presentation I put together a while back. Have a look.

A sensible question to ask

Mitchell & Webb of Peep Show reknown.
Another one here

God as Hobson's Choice

tWO pASSAGES FROM aLDOUS hUXLEY'S cROME yELLOW

Selection One

Priscilla's gay and gadding existence had come to an abrupt end.
Nowadays she spent almost all her time at Crome, cultivating a
rather ill-defined malady.  For consolation she dallied with New
Thought and the Occult.  Her passion for racing still possessed
her, and Henry, who was a kind-hearted fellow at bottom, allowed
her forty pounds a month betting money.  Most of Priscilla's days
were spent in casting the horoscopes of horses, and she invested
her money scientifically, as the stars dictated.  She betted on
football too, and had a large notebook in which she registered
the horoscopes of all the players in all the teams of the League.
The process of balancing the horoscopes of two elevens one
against the other was a very delicate and difficult one.  A match
between the Spurs and the Villa entailed a conflict in the
heavens so vast and so complicated that it was not to be wondered
at if she sometimes made a mistake about the outcome.

"Such a pity you don't believe in these things, Denis, such a
pity," said Mrs. Wimbush in her deep, distinct voice.

"I can't say I feel it so."

"Ah, that's because you don't know what it's like to have faith.
You've no idea how amusing and exciting life becomes when you do
believe.  All that happens means something; nothing you do is
ever insignificant.  It makes life so jolly, you know.  Here am I
at Crome.  Dull as ditchwater, you'd think; but no, I don't find
it so.  I don't regret the Old Days a bit.  I have the Stars..."
She picked up the sheet of paper that was lying on the blotting-
pad.  "Inman's horoscope," she explained.  "(I thought I'd like
to have a little fling on the billiards championship this
autumn.)  I have the Infinite to keep in tune with," she waved
her hand.  "And then there's the next world and all the spirits,
and one's Aura, and Mrs. Eddy and saying you're not ill, and the
Christian Mysteries and Mrs. Besant.  It's all splendid.  One's
never dull for a moment.  I can't think how I used to get on
before--in the Old Days.  Pleasure--running about, that's all it
was; just running about.  Lunch, tea, dinner, theatre, supper
every day.  It was fun, of course, while it lasted.  But there
wasn't much left of it afterwards....."

Selection Two:

One entered the world, Denis pursued, having ready-made ideas
about everything.  One had a philosophy and tried to make life
fit into it.  One should have lived first and then made one's
philosophy to fit life...Life, facts, things were horribly
complicated; ideas, even the most difficult of them, deceptively
simple.  In the world of ideas everything was clear; in life all
was obscure, embroiled.  Was it surprising that one was
miserable, horribly unhappy?  Denis came to a halt in front of
the bench, and as he asked this last question he stretched out
his arms and stood for an instant in an attitude of crucifixion,
then let them fall again to his sides.

"My poor Denis!"  Anne was touched.  He was really too pathetic
as he stood there in front of her in his white flannel trousers.
"But does one suffer about these things?  It seems very
extraordinary."

"You're like Scogan," cried Denis bitterly.  "You regard me as a
specimen for an anthropologist.  Well, I suppose I am."

"No, no," she protested, and drew in her skirt with a gesture
that indicated that he was to sit down beside her.  He sat down.
"Why can't you just take things for granted and as they come?"
she asked.  "It's so much simpler."

"Of course it is," said Denis.  "But it's a lesson to be learnt
gradually.  There are the twenty tons of ratiocination to be got
rid of first."

"I've always taken things as they come," said Anne.  "It seems so
obvious.  One enjoys the pleasant things, avoids the nasty ones.
There's nothing more to be said."

"Nothing--for you.  But, then, you were born a pagan; I am trying
laboriously to make myself one.  I can take nothing for granted,
I can enjoy nothing as it comes along.  Beauty, pleasure, art,
women--I have to invent an excuse, a justification for everything
that's delightful.  Otherwise I can't enjoy it with an easy
conscience.  I make up a little story about beauty and pretend
that it has something to do with truth and goodness.  I have to
say that art is the process by which one reconstructs the divine
reality out of chaos.  Pleasure is one of the mystical roads to
union with the infinite--the ecstasies of drinking, dancing,
love-making.  As for women, I am perpetually assuring myself that
they're the broad highway to divinity.  And to think that I'm
only just beginning to see through the silliness of the whole
thing!  It's incredible to me that anyone should have escaped
these horrors."

"It's still more incredible to me," said Anne, "that anyone
should have been a victim to them.  I should like to see myself
believing that men are the highway to divinity."  The amused
malice of her smile planted two little folds on either side of
her mouth, and through their half-closed lids her eyes shone with
laughter.  "What you need, Denis, is a nice plump young wife, a
fixed income, and a little congenial but regular work."

"What I need is you."  That was what he ought to have retorted,
that was what he wanted passionately to say.  He could not say
it.  His desire fought against his shyness.  "What I need is
you."  Mentally he shouted the words, but not a sound issued from
his lips.  He looked at her despairingly.  Couldn't she see what
was going on inside him?  Couldn't she understand?  "What I need
is you."  He would say it, he would--he would.

"I think I shall go and bathe," said Anne.  "It's so hot."  The
opportunity had passed.


WHOLE BOOK HERE
and/or
WHOLE BOOK HERE

More Nancy in Sparkler 41 from 1945

1945....

Just one story this time. I was reminded by Frankenstein comics guy that Bushmiller used to draw Nancy with a toothpick. The Tootsie Roll ad in the back is fantastic.



Spark Man...WTF?


Volto The Shill


Hey Kids! Cuts Like Razors!


Big-haired Hap


Slats' ladies:


All pix = link

All pix = link

In your briefcase lies the fascination of exciting go-kart race

I WANT THIS.
But I also want a lot of other stuff
.





The other cool things are:

• The the built-in translation tools on this Google-found autotranslated page.
  
• The wonky autotranslation itself
• The nicely constructed flash "Super Zoom" feature on the enlarged picture pop-up

LINK

Mr. BrainAsBigAsAPlanet, Eno, Artifact

Mrs. Lex10 suggests: Vinyl 45RPM The Lion Sleeps Tonight (Wimoweh) b/w I'll Come Running (To Tie Your Shoe)

boomp3.com

Interesting ephemera-y thingie for fans of the inventor of ambient music: The producers of the vinyl items back in the days of Punk & New Wave (*cough* *cough* Where's my walker?) used to get their hands on the masters and engrave messages into the dead space at the end of the cut.
This side, the Lion Sleeps Tonight side, had this engraved:


apologies for the 47 step enhancement - I shoulda just got a tripod out..
also on the Tie Your shoe side it said: "Dedicated to R. Saarikko's Shoes and I. MacDonalds's Polish"
Ritva Saarikko was a photographer who worked with Eno. Apparently not a loafer wearer. Possibly one of the Seven Deadly Finns, a song Eno did around the same time.

NJ to CT: Seen On NJ Tpke.

How did this get approved?




Nice touch for an ivory Caddy, suppose.

Yodeling Sunday With Trio Shmeed

"I haffen't time to work, I haffen't time to play, al I do is yodel-i- de-ay!" -The Happy Yodeler

From the liner notes:
...The Shmeeds have a crazy mixed up sound....

Here's Werner Willy and Claire Schmid (yes, click the pic)



Rock on, geschwister!

Katamari Bag Mod equals Genius Daughter

My oldest daughter made a change to her messenger bag: She Katamari-ized it. The ol' fabric paint & stencil routine. Excellent results. The Katamari stuff out there that's available commercially is egregiously expensive and not all that fun. This has guerilla flair.
See more of her stuff here such as her googly eye shoes and target bag/duct tape ballerina dress.



...also we fixed the date on her camera shortly after these shots! Yay!

Cumbia ! Wahey !

Jorge Meza - Colombian Cumbia star.
I'm no fan of Latin music, but sometimes, it jus' grabs ya! The guy at the flea market assured me this was the disc to get.
I can't find anything comprehensive about him, so check out the link at the picture.



I love the galumphing yet sexy (?) beat. He also manages to give himself credit in the beginning of every song, along with a hearty "wahey"!


Why not enjoy a nice refajo while listening?
Remember: Don't use Coke - use Colombiana La Nuestra

08 Catchup Rant.....

.....1/5/08 was the 2nd anniversary of GlyphJockey. Fewer posts, but what the hey. Just hope you'll keep checking in and that I haven't lost you during the recent lull.
Year 2=
6.5 Million hits (more than double year one)
240K Visits (2.5 times that of year one)
164K unique visitors (10 times that of year one)
this translates roughly into $1.43 (yes, 143 cents) earned at my Amazon store and zero Dollar store celebrity hoochie calendars sold - so uh, it's not about monetizing, huh?

I also had a recent wedding anniversary, (a milestone one) and concluded that I had such messed up relationships when I was single because I was supposed to be with Mrs. Lex10.

Now if you're an Atheist (notice I capitalized- nice, huh?) it was probably because I was f-ing them up psychologically because I really wanted her or a reasonable facsimile (because at the time I thought I didn't have a shot).

If you're Spiritually inclined, it was because I was destined to be with her.

On that note, a quick question: What do Richard Dawkins and Penn Jillette do when they hear a song like "Into the Mystic"? Do they go, "Meh."? Believe me, I know there's no Santy Claus, but I still get moved. Only now I feel guilty about it. I don't want to be meat on a rock, and intellectual gyrations that justify it aren't helping me feel any better. Religion however is clearly just bogus self hypnosis conducted by closet egomaniacs. Screw it, where's my Alan Watts .mp3s ?!?!?

New business: The "Yow" post was me sending the wallpaper that I made for my phone to Blogger to test it. Y'see I was unable to Moblog because Blogger sends back a confirmation email with an address that is, like, 97 characters long, and the phone just aborts. They've replaced it twice, and were very nice about it, but they just don't understand mobile blogging - it's as if I lapsed into French when I tried to explain it. Blogger meanwhile, well, you're on your own, ain't ya? So, I've blocked those mails from coming to my phone, and that should work. Expect to enjoy more shit I see in real time, kids.

By the way, my phone is the same one shown in pictures of Britney Spears driving through a red light while texting. It's famous!

One friend had 5" of his colon cut out, another got fired, and then The Perfect American had a heart attack. Bummer for all of them.

The Perfect American (where I contributed, during his computerless hiatus and will still)seems to be back thanks to Cleveland Public Library, a venerable institution, with really nice architecture (at least at downtown central). I found contributing there very liberating, and now it's back to it's Zen experience of ...uh, not reading it, but letting it wash over me.

I still continue to be comforted by the fact that I can also contribute to PCL LinkDump, with the likes of Percy, Ange, Johnny, Goof, Martin, Sebastian (who I thought was The Perfect American - Mr. Jyn - get it - SebasJYN?!? ) and the others. They're a bunch of clever M.F.s - I'm often in awe.

I also, in keeping it "85% Fresh" find it sometimes difficult to post stuff when it's an assload of work. Believe me I know you're looking, so I might (shudder) do some referring in the mix that compromises my "85% Fresh" claim.

I also promise more original videos in the coming months but hey, I got a job & family.

So, much love and on with the show.

Yow!

Yow!

We Are The Romans

Know us by our rockin' edgy weapons y'all!