Anthroxenic

Seeing how this never went anywhere, I'm just gonna post what I have. Enjoy.

In Response To the Ferguson Decision

Systemic

A Simple Device

Dale Brink was an idiot. Not in the clinical sense, but it was close enough. Years of abuse had dulled what little natural wit he had, to the point of negligence. “Witless” would have been a good descriptor but it was one which was rarely used; “fucking retard” was more typical. This left Dale with very few career opportunities. Combined with living in a small town, constantly on the edge of evaporating, his options were very few, indeed. An all-night truck stop was the one he eventually settled into. Dale found that it wasn’t too taxing, sitting in the dusty old building, late at night, surrounded by motor oil, candy, caffeine pills, CB radios, and various, assorted nick knacks, accompanied by little more than spiders and the smell of rusty old cans and dust. Most of the truckers paid for fuel at the pumps, via a company card, and those were very few and far between, leaving very little for Dale to actually do. If he’d been smarter, he might have been given to wonder how the old place kept the lights on. Mostly, he watched television on an old tube model outfitted with an HD adaptor kit. It wasn’t much, but it passed the time.
Dale lazily flipped through the channels until he found a rerun of Jerry Springer which caught his fancy. Enthralled with the sideshow on display, he didn’t notice the cloud of dust sweep through the room.
The episode ended. Dale tried to find something else he could watch and failed. He turned off the TV and tried the radio, instead. That was bust, as well: nothing but new country, which sounded like pop music, but watered down with the addition of twang. Dejected, Dale turned the radio back off and sat in a huff. He decided to flip through some of the porn magazines, instead. As he sat there, flipping through a copy of Juggs, the headlights of a car almost made Dale’s eyes squint, as they gave a valiant effort to cut through years of grime coating both sides of the truck stop’s front windows. The engine cut off, followed shortly by the usual sounds of a door swinging open, the driver’s shoes making contact with the gravel, footsteps, the car door being closed, and the awkward, loose walk to the front door.
When the door opened, accompanied by the jangling jingle bells hung from it, Dale was rather surprised to see a large but elegant woman, smartly dressed in a gray pantsuit. She also wore very high and very strange heels. Dale couldn’t say what was strange about them, he didn’t know much about women’s shoes, but something was definitely odd about them. Further, he would have liked to know how she managed to walk through the gravel parking lot wearing them. Something buried in the back of his brain told him not to ask when she walked up to the counter, behind which Dale sat, stared at him calmly but with an air of authority, and bluntly asked him who the hell he was.
“Uh-uh…” he trailed off.
She gave him a shriveling look.
“Uh, Dale. Ma’am.” He managed to blunder out. He didn’t know why he was compelled to address her so formally. It wasn’t in his nature, and it was a bit of a struggle, for him.
“Where’s Fredrick? He was supposed to be here, tonight.”
“Oh, um, he didn’t show up for work yesterday, so boss asked me to take his shift tonight, ma’am. Boss figured must be some kinda emergency, for Fredrick not to show up, no word or nothing’.”
“Do you know who I am?” Her words were sharp and precise.
“Uh, no, ma’am.”
“I am Ms. Bel, I own this place. You work for me, you understand?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“How long have you worked here, Dale?”
“Comin’ on twelve years, ma’am.”
“Then I suppose you will have to do, Dale. Close the shop and come with me.”
Dale did as he was told, turning off the lights and locking the door. He followed Ms. Bel to an old drinks cooler that had never worked properly, as long as he’d worked at the truck stop. It had always gone unused and empty; dusty and full of spiders. Dale noticed that the spiders’ webs and thick layer of dust had all been disturbed; he could feel a gentle breeze creeping out from the cracked, decrepit rubber gasket. Ms. Bell took the handle to open the drinks cooler, but instead of opening the door, the entire unit swung out on a hinge, unleashing the stiff and stagnant air behind it. There was also a darkness, behind the door. The darkness seemed a thing, not merely shadow: alive and shifting.
“Go through, Dale, there’s nothing in there that will hurt you. You’ve been here long enough it will have accepted your presence.”
“Um, what will, ma’am?”
“You will see it with your own eyes, soon enough. Do as I say and you will be fine.” Her voice was growing impatient. A strange accent that Dale could not begin to identify, crept into her words. Why was he so compelled to do as she asked?
Dale stepped over the threshold and into the pool of darkness and stale air. He felt a chill, but also a presence. It was like something very large and very old was in the room with him. More than the room, though, the presence took up his entire conscious mind; it filled him and lived inside him. He resisted. He was Dale; he was himself, nothing and no one else. Thinking became difficult. The presence lulled him. He felt as if he was drunk. He no longer felt the chill in the room. Dale gave in to the presence and became a part of it, became one with it.
Dale looked down, at his shoes. He held up his hands and looked at those, too. He turned his hands over, admiring them. He felt strange. He wasn’t really Dale, anymore, but he was. He had all his memories and feelings, but his mind was… lighter. His faculties felt sharper. He felt he was a part of something larger than himself. Dale looked at Ms. Bel and she looked back at Dale, knowingly.
“It has accepted you, Dale. You were not my first choice, but I fear Fredrick has been taken out of the picture.”
Dale nodded to Ms. Bel, but did not speak. He now knew why she had seemed so commanding and strange, to him. He knew, he understood, and he accepted this. He looked again into the darkness and was not afraid. The darkness was a part of him, now, and he a part of it. They were the darkness. They were Dale.
“Come along, Dale, we have much to do.”
“Yes ma’am.”

Moebius

Even if you don't know the name Moebius, you know his work or its influence. A French cartoonist and illustrator, Moebius was the science fiction pen name of Jean Gireaud. When he did cowboy comics, he signed GIR, when he did science fiction, he signed Moebius, but the work was always undeniable.

Concept art for Tron.

Moebius got his start in film concept art from the (now infamous) failed Dune adaptation, of the 70's, but went on, through the contacts he'd made, to work on Alien, Tron, The Abyss, and The Fifth Element.

The Abyss concept art

Illustration for Star Wars

He also did work for Marvel and DC, both as an interior artist and doing poster illustrations.

concept

She's a cyborg spider lady.

They See Me (Coal) Rollin'

Is it a song about deep-seeded inadequacies and having a tiny penis?

http://www.businessinsider.com.au/conservatives-purposely-making-cars-spew-black-smoke-2014-7

Blackarachnia

More Than Meets the Eye

Oh Yeah

Forgot to post this sooner...

WIP

I've been busy.

BloodRayne

I did a painting of titular Rayne for Jim Sterling, and got a bit carried away with it. It was just going to be a quick, one off, as a bit of fan art, because... well, because thank god for Jim Sterling. But it kinda got away from me, and have a look for yourself.

One for the portfolio, at least.

Art

 

Truly, I am a great artist.

New York City, here I come, spread ya legs.

 

Fool's Errand

April Fool's Day: a day to commemorate Christians mocking pagans for celebrating the new year on a different, mostly-trivial point in the Earth's orbit around the sun. Also, unfunny people trying to pull pranks.
I'm not a grump. OK, I am, but really the attempts at being funny by people who aren't funny... it's just tedious. A good prank is both believable and ridiculous. Convincing people that Bathesda is working on Fallout 4, is not a prank. Convincing people that Bathesda decided to make it a point and click adventure game or a mobile game, would be a prank. The first thing is completely believable, but has no punchline. It's just a lie, there's no element of being fooled. Why wouldn't Bathesda be working on Fallout 4?
The key, really, is not believing a lie, the key is getting people to believe a really stupid lie. [Make your own religious joke here]

Something

 This is what I think, when people say this phrase.

Maybe I should do a whole series of portraits of goofy-looking schmucks,

saying things that annoy me.

More realistic take on Eve, in the style of renaissance portraiture.

Playing God

I'm sick of the "playing god" trope.  Sci-Fi Network's (or as they spell it, Syfy) newest show, Helix, has based the entire ad campaign around this nonsense. The show might also, or it might not, I don't know because the advertising left me cold and annoyed.



"Play God, Pay the Price" we're told; a phrase so patronizingly stupid it could only have been coined by a young earth creationist. Possibly while suffering from head trauma. I'd love to find the regressive quarter-wit who came up with this campaign, so I could introduce some head trauma of my own, preferably in the form of a '64 Buick. Or at least its tire iron.
Allow me to explain something to the mouth-breathing, Duck Dynasty-watching, Honey Boo Boo's mothers of the world: we "play god" every time we turn on a bloody light switch. "Playing god" is, effectively, harnessing nature. Any and every time we bend nature to human will, we are "playing god." Jack Kavorkian put it best: "... any time you tamper with the natural order, you're playing god."
Damn right, Jack. But no, again and again we're shown science and technology as scary monsters to be feared and distrusted. This ties into the natural fallacy. But let me remind you why it's a fallacy: everything found in nature, isn't good for you. Nature produces arsenic, parasites, bacteria, viruses, and things that will eat you. Conversely, things that are not natural include your computer, your car, your clothing (natural fibers, maybe, but still had to be made by human hand), and eating with a fork.
You don't want to play god? Enjoy eating whatever you can find, with your bare hands, without a fire, in a cave, getting dysentery. I'll stay in my house, with electric lights, the internet, and utensils.

"Uncle" Phil Robertson Is Not Being Persecuted *Updated

Updating this with a link to Hemant Mehta's Friendly Atheist post, because he brings up a lot of good points.

For those who don't know, Phil Robertson is one of the rednecks on A&E's Duck Dynasty. It's a show about rednecks who got rich making duck calls. No, really. It's kind of like the Beverly Hillbillies.
Anyway, Robertson said some things, specifically about homosexuality being like beastiality. Honestly, I couldn't give two squirts of duck shit (see what I did there?) because he's another ignorant redneck in a long line with the same ignorant programming and none of them have ever had an original thought in what passes for a mind, in redneck culture. Trust me, I know these people, I live among them.
So A&E suspended him from the show. Of course, this pissed off all the other Christian bigots. Now they're claiming his free speech has been infringed. Once again, Christian bigots don't understand how free speech works.
I'll try to explain and use small words so you can follow along, oh ye of little brain and much faith.
A&E is a television network. A&E owns and broadcasts airs the show, Duck Dynasty. That makes Robertson, basically, an employee of A&E. Their employee said some things the network doesn't agree with, so they suspended him. Robertson is not being prosecuted (that there legal stuff what can lead to fines and/or jail). If he were being prosecuted, that would be an infringement of his free speech. But he's not. The network (A&E, his employer), doesn't want said network associated with Robertson bigoted, anti-gay views, so they gave him a time out. They are well within their right and if you had an employee telling customers things you didn't agree with, you'd do the same.
If you owned a business, and one of your employees was going around telling everyone within ear shot that "the heterosexual lifestyle choice causes parasites," no matter how funny I may find that, I couldn't disagree with your decision to suspend said employee, from work.
Free speech doesn't mean freedom from consequence of that speech, it means freedom from legal action, within certain boundaries - "fire in a crowded theater," slander/libel, and all that.

Christians, You aren't being persecuted in the US. Don't believe me?

Why There Is No Such Thing As A Good Pastor

Huffington Post put up a "think piece" by Pastor Rick Henderson which is little more than a tired, old, defeated argument claiming that atheists have no morals and how them religious folk are really superior to them there thinkin' heathen folk. He attempts to define atheism as "a thing" in a nebulous attempt at the old "spin it back on you" accusation of atheism as a religion. I could spend time tearing apart his arguments, like how atheists have many different view points, how his poor phrasing points to a failure to understand the question, or how we all develop our moral systems in the same ways, from a combination of upbringing, societal influence, and personal reflection, but the blatherskite has already had it handed to him in the comments.
I'm more concerned with why anyone listens to ministers (I'm using this as a blanket term). We have someone like Mike Huckabee, an uneducated anti-intellectual flapping his gums as if he's an authoritarian expert on anything other than being a gobshite. He's not a philosopher, he knows FA about science, and he's far from a biblical scholar, so what does he bring to the table, exactly? A hodunk, "I'm just a small town preacher" story, and a lot of uninformed opinion (not to mention the piles of bigotry), as far as I can tell.
Don't get me wrong, formal education isn't the end all be all. Obviously not, with places like Liberty University secreting their own brand of indoctrination and calling it education. It's the anti-intellectualism; the attitude that they can clearly understand a subject in five minutes, better than someone who spent 10 years studying it. Compare with the fact that you or I could be "on the same level" as Pastor Rick or any of these ministers, by spending $60 at a .gov webesite for our very own, official ministry in a religion made up on the spot. You might not get the tax breaks, but you could still officiate weddings.
Rick Henderson might not be a totally close-minded example of the breed, but clearly, he's just a guy with a title that doesn't mean anything, outside of his church. And to offer he or anyone else calling themself Pastor or Minister or Reverend or whatever any amount of respect, based solely on that so-called qualification, is as pointless and vapid as Kent Hovind's doctoral dissertation .

Ms Male Character

So, Anita Sarkeesian has put out a new video in her Tropes Vs Women series, this one starting a new topic: The Ms. Male Character.



What's fascinatingly disturbing is the kind of responses this stuff gets. Right off, there was a "featured" video response with a subtitle of "Even when it's equal it's sexist." Which makes me think he didn't watch, or didn't understand, the video, judging by his title. The Tropes video is specifically about taking male characters and gender flopping them (not to be confused with Rule 63) and having their defining characteristic being female version of a male character. A good example, I think, is Silver Age Batman. His first sidekick, male, is Robin. Robin gets a distinct name, costume, and backstory. While his origin shares qualities with Batman's, it's still Robin's own and isn't dependent on any established characters. Robin is original. Batgirl on the other hand, shares her name and costume with Batman and her origin is tied to an established male character, Commissioner Gordon.

Then there's this shit.

Wonder Woman (since I'm using DC), on the other hand, is her own, unique character, with her own back story, costume, and powers. She isn't just a gender flopped version of a male character. And let's face it, there aren't too many of those, still.

And here's the thing, when your published materials are more inclusive, that's going to help your sales. When you're driving away half the population, you're only hurting yourself.

That's not to say there's not a place for niche stuff, but it shouldn't be the dominant force in your medium.

A word of caution, however. Most of us can tell the difference between genuine sensitivity and pandering, and we don't care for the latter. My rule of thumb is, character first, gender second, and race/ethnicity third.

Listening Material

"What do you listen to, while you work?" I have never been asked. I'm going to tell you anyway: podcasts.
Here is a list of podcasts I regularly listen to

Irreligiosophy
Cognitive Dissonance
Exposing Pseudo Astronomy
The Scathing Atheist

All but Exposing Pseudo Astronomy are atheist in nature and very sweary. Exposing is science based. I'm only able to follow parts of it, especially when it gets heavily into maths, but I like the host's voice enough to keep listening when I don't understand.

Oh, and obviously, release date on Anthroxenic has been pushed back. It's taking longer than I had anticipated, and I have to work with other people, which slows down the process a little more. But trust me, it'll be worth it. Working with an editor has been very rewarding and it shows in the material. It's probably going to a New Year's release. Maybe Christmas - maybe.

On Photo Referencing

Stop copying photographs!
Seriously, I keep seeing this. Even in tutorials, I see image after image that is just reproducing a photo. The point of photo references is not to reproduce the photo, but to use it to help with an image. The key word there, is "help."
Think of it like writing a paper, for school. If you just copy the encyclopedia entry, you're cheating and you're not really learning much. The point is to use multiple sources and points of reference to create something your own, hopefully something new.
Copying a photograph or another painting or drawing can be a useful exercise. But that's all it should be: exercise.  If all you know how to do is copy photographs, what are you going to do when you don't have references? Anyone can copy, it takes an artist to create, from nothing.