Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Character Profile for the Nazi Golem
Nazi Golem Character Profile
You have to imagine that the Nazi Golem has been around for thousands of years. As far as he knows, he is nearly immortal. Conventional poisons and toxins are quickly changed into vitamins and minerals by his robotic organs. External wounds heal almost instantaneously, as his exoskeleton is composed of a fine mesh weave of billions upon billions of self-replicating nanobots. Severed limbs can be reattached within seconds, and as long as one nanobot is still active the Golem can make an almost full recovery from nearly any attack.
I say almost full as there is some residual synaptic loss between each major recovery. As powerful a memory system as each nanobot possesses, there is always small gaps in memory when the entire system is being overloaded. When the Golem takes significant damage, the surviving nanobots have to work twice as hard to produce replacements because they are taking on the workload of the damaged nanobots. Because self preservation is the number one priority of the system, it is the number one priority of the bots. Certain systems take precedence such as life support and defensive weapon capabilities. Sometimes memory is sacrificed or damaged as a result.
Being nearly immortal the Golem has lived a thousand lifetimes. His memory is faulty which interferes with his logic circuits. Because his logic circuits govern the rest of his operating system, his behavior can become erratic, his thoughts irrational.
To cope he often commits suicide. For a brief period of time while his system reboots there is a sense of euphoria, but this is fleeting at best, and of course there is the memory loss to contend with.
As an alternative to temporarily killing himself, the Golem regularly imbibes mass quantities of drugs and other chemicals to find a synthetic form of the euphoria that he feels while temporarily dead. Unfortunately, being nearly immortal does not necessarily mean steady cash flow. To pay for the large amounts of chemicals that he uses, the Golem often hires himself out as a mercenary.
Personality
The Nazi Golem is bitter, angry and depressed. His only escape is through the overindulgence of illicit chemicals, the occasional suicide and his rock n’ roll music career.
The Golem will not usually go out of his way to help another unless it’s going to benefit him in some way. He has little left in the way of human emotion, so most things that would normally affect or sway someone else are usually lost on him. His code of ethics is written in the moment and he doesn’t let things like conventional morality or the law get in the way of what he wants.
Similarly his mercenary contracts have no stipulations or limitations. There is no such thing as “no women, no children” with the Golem. Nearly anything goes. He is a killer for hire, a courier and beyond anything else, a soldier. He has a sense of honor and duty by which he measures the world.
The Golem comes across as snide, obnoxious, rude and dirty. Most people find the Golem to be detestable, but the few individuals who know him intimately, know him to be a gentleman and a scholar. When he’s not trying to overdose on synthetic heroine or killing busloads of school children, he’s pouring over dusty tombs and forgotten manuscripts. The one thing the Golem loves more than high grade synthetic heroine is books. Because the powerful Nazi Empire has declared knowledge to be illegal, all books are incinerated upon discovery. It is said that the Golem has a massive hidden library where he has stored all the books that he has come across since being freed from his mental slavery.
Deep down, the Golem is still a human. Whatever that’s worth.
Abilities and Weapon Systems
The Golem’s body is composed primarily of billions upon billions of self replicating nanobots, which allows the Golem to heal instantly from all physical wounds.
The nanobots are also able to duplicate any mechanical devices that they encounter. The Golem consumes the device that he wishes to duplicate and the nanobots do the rest. The device is absorbed by the Golem’s body and then becomes a part of it.
The Golem is also able to duplicate any non-mechanical items such as blades and simplistic machinery without the Golem having to consume them.
The strength and agility of the Golem is well beyond that of a normal human’s, but nowhere near the limits of the newer Nazi Golems that have been created in the thousands of years since his birth.
You have to imagine that the Nazi Golem has been around for thousands of years. As far as he knows, he is nearly immortal. Conventional poisons and toxins are quickly changed into vitamins and minerals by his robotic organs. External wounds heal almost instantaneously, as his exoskeleton is composed of a fine mesh weave of billions upon billions of self-replicating nanobots. Severed limbs can be reattached within seconds, and as long as one nanobot is still active the Golem can make an almost full recovery from nearly any attack.
I say almost full as there is some residual synaptic loss between each major recovery. As powerful a memory system as each nanobot possesses, there is always small gaps in memory when the entire system is being overloaded. When the Golem takes significant damage, the surviving nanobots have to work twice as hard to produce replacements because they are taking on the workload of the damaged nanobots. Because self preservation is the number one priority of the system, it is the number one priority of the bots. Certain systems take precedence such as life support and defensive weapon capabilities. Sometimes memory is sacrificed or damaged as a result.
Being nearly immortal the Golem has lived a thousand lifetimes. His memory is faulty which interferes with his logic circuits. Because his logic circuits govern the rest of his operating system, his behavior can become erratic, his thoughts irrational.
To cope he often commits suicide. For a brief period of time while his system reboots there is a sense of euphoria, but this is fleeting at best, and of course there is the memory loss to contend with.
As an alternative to temporarily killing himself, the Golem regularly imbibes mass quantities of drugs and other chemicals to find a synthetic form of the euphoria that he feels while temporarily dead. Unfortunately, being nearly immortal does not necessarily mean steady cash flow. To pay for the large amounts of chemicals that he uses, the Golem often hires himself out as a mercenary.
Personality
The Nazi Golem is bitter, angry and depressed. His only escape is through the overindulgence of illicit chemicals, the occasional suicide and his rock n’ roll music career.
The Golem will not usually go out of his way to help another unless it’s going to benefit him in some way. He has little left in the way of human emotion, so most things that would normally affect or sway someone else are usually lost on him. His code of ethics is written in the moment and he doesn’t let things like conventional morality or the law get in the way of what he wants.
Similarly his mercenary contracts have no stipulations or limitations. There is no such thing as “no women, no children” with the Golem. Nearly anything goes. He is a killer for hire, a courier and beyond anything else, a soldier. He has a sense of honor and duty by which he measures the world.
The Golem comes across as snide, obnoxious, rude and dirty. Most people find the Golem to be detestable, but the few individuals who know him intimately, know him to be a gentleman and a scholar. When he’s not trying to overdose on synthetic heroine or killing busloads of school children, he’s pouring over dusty tombs and forgotten manuscripts. The one thing the Golem loves more than high grade synthetic heroine is books. Because the powerful Nazi Empire has declared knowledge to be illegal, all books are incinerated upon discovery. It is said that the Golem has a massive hidden library where he has stored all the books that he has come across since being freed from his mental slavery.
Deep down, the Golem is still a human. Whatever that’s worth.
Abilities and Weapon Systems
The Golem’s body is composed primarily of billions upon billions of self replicating nanobots, which allows the Golem to heal instantly from all physical wounds.
The nanobots are also able to duplicate any mechanical devices that they encounter. The Golem consumes the device that he wishes to duplicate and the nanobots do the rest. The device is absorbed by the Golem’s body and then becomes a part of it.
The Golem is also able to duplicate any non-mechanical items such as blades and simplistic machinery without the Golem having to consume them.
The strength and agility of the Golem is well beyond that of a normal human’s, but nowhere near the limits of the newer Nazi Golems that have been created in the thousands of years since his birth.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Thoughts during the process
I find myself going back and forth between the different aspect of the book. First I had a concept of an ancient robot made during the time of the Second World War, a super soldier for the Americans captured by the Nazis, brainwashed and made into a metal superman through the use of cybernetics and occult powers. This superman leads the German's Stahl Reich (the Steel Empire), an entire army of metal supermen against the allied forces of Earth and conquers them all. Hitler becomes a living robot city, with his body at the center of the city. Every citizen in his world-wide empire is implanted with a bio-mechanical link that binds them to their Uber Fuhrer. When this is not enough for the living robot city Adolf Hitler, he turns his attention to loftier goals. At the height of its power the Nazi empire attempted to open a gateway to the Multiverse. Instead they ripped open a hole in the fabric of reality and dimensional energy poured in. The landscape of our reality would never be the same.
.....From this point on, the plot became a little flimsy. I thought of the original American super soldier turned Nazi Super Soldier as being this repentant avenging knight. The backlash from the gateway inadvertently breaks the restraints that the Nazi's brainwashing had over the soldier and he is his own master again.....and this is where the plot gets even thinner. I thought of this soldier hunting down all the other remaining soldiers of the Stahl Reich over the course of thousands of years, but then I was like, "why?", what is the point? Where does that go? Is it just a plot device or is this the point of the story? It just seemed a little stale and overdone. Shades of Highlander, etc.....
I decided to switch gears in the process and do some drawing. I wanted a robot, that much I knew, but nothing else. I collected dozens of pictures of various robots and looked at them over and over again for some inspiration, but the visuals that I had in my head were blurry and just on the tip of my proverbial brain. I wasn't getting anything useful. I ended up drawing a horrendous picture of floating bot shoots oval rays at a badly drawn victim, whose bursting guts are actually drawn better then their connected body.
Watched some anime, thought of the things that I like from dystopian futurism, and thought about the visuals behind Blade Runner the movie, and the twisted perspective of a junkie painted so vividly by the poet P. K. Dick. I opened a hard cover sketch book and paid it the proper tribute by drawing something truly amazing. It was a simplistic design, with the focus being more on the altered perspective of the piece, and less on "technological details".
I had wanted a sort of 50's style look to it, and I definitely missed the mark on that one. What I did manage to find in my search for this unidentifiable robot, was a really far out, laid back design. It flows nicely, even after I sodomized it when I put down the ink......Inking really is not my thing. Anyone who thinks that inking is easy is either an asshole, or is someone who naturally possesses the inking ability, which in turn makes them an asshole for having that ability.
Give me a grades of pencils and I will spin you gold made of gray tones. But give me a pen, of any caliber whether it be a bic or one of those really fancy art pens, and I will inevitably alter, fuck-up, or in other ways mutilate that picture. And it's like, it's my picture, why can I not trace over my own fragging lines? Because I'm obviously lacking in that particular go-juice that inkers have. I draw, that's what I do. In comic lingo, I would be the penciler. Somebody else would then take over and do that beautiful magick that they do.
Unfortunately I don't know anyone who inks, and even if I did, I wouldn't let anyone slap ink on my work. That just wouldn't fly.......So anyways, now the robot is not just a ex-nazi super soldier turned mercenary. He's also a soulful singer/song writer who is trying to get his music career of the ground. I thought it would be really cool since I'm attempting to do a multi-media project like this, to mix different genres of writing as well, so we'll see some poetry come out in his lyrics.
Of course this is all set to the backdrop of a dystopian future in a anachronistically mutated world ruled by mechanized nazis and populated by every conceivable being. Is there just too much going on? Am I trying to set too many plates spinning at once?
.....From this point on, the plot became a little flimsy. I thought of the original American super soldier turned Nazi Super Soldier as being this repentant avenging knight. The backlash from the gateway inadvertently breaks the restraints that the Nazi's brainwashing had over the soldier and he is his own master again.....and this is where the plot gets even thinner. I thought of this soldier hunting down all the other remaining soldiers of the Stahl Reich over the course of thousands of years, but then I was like, "why?", what is the point? Where does that go? Is it just a plot device or is this the point of the story? It just seemed a little stale and overdone. Shades of Highlander, etc.....
I decided to switch gears in the process and do some drawing. I wanted a robot, that much I knew, but nothing else. I collected dozens of pictures of various robots and looked at them over and over again for some inspiration, but the visuals that I had in my head were blurry and just on the tip of my proverbial brain. I wasn't getting anything useful. I ended up drawing a horrendous picture of floating bot shoots oval rays at a badly drawn victim, whose bursting guts are actually drawn better then their connected body.
Watched some anime, thought of the things that I like from dystopian futurism, and thought about the visuals behind Blade Runner the movie, and the twisted perspective of a junkie painted so vividly by the poet P. K. Dick. I opened a hard cover sketch book and paid it the proper tribute by drawing something truly amazing. It was a simplistic design, with the focus being more on the altered perspective of the piece, and less on "technological details".
I had wanted a sort of 50's style look to it, and I definitely missed the mark on that one. What I did manage to find in my search for this unidentifiable robot, was a really far out, laid back design. It flows nicely, even after I sodomized it when I put down the ink......Inking really is not my thing. Anyone who thinks that inking is easy is either an asshole, or is someone who naturally possesses the inking ability, which in turn makes them an asshole for having that ability.
Give me a grades of pencils and I will spin you gold made of gray tones. But give me a pen, of any caliber whether it be a bic or one of those really fancy art pens, and I will inevitably alter, fuck-up, or in other ways mutilate that picture. And it's like, it's my picture, why can I not trace over my own fragging lines? Because I'm obviously lacking in that particular go-juice that inkers have. I draw, that's what I do. In comic lingo, I would be the penciler. Somebody else would then take over and do that beautiful magick that they do.
Unfortunately I don't know anyone who inks, and even if I did, I wouldn't let anyone slap ink on my work. That just wouldn't fly.......So anyways, now the robot is not just a ex-nazi super soldier turned mercenary. He's also a soulful singer/song writer who is trying to get his music career of the ground. I thought it would be really cool since I'm attempting to do a multi-media project like this, to mix different genres of writing as well, so we'll see some poetry come out in his lyrics.
Of course this is all set to the backdrop of a dystopian future in a anachronistically mutated world ruled by mechanized nazis and populated by every conceivable being. Is there just too much going on? Am I trying to set too many plates spinning at once?
Freya & Loki, the cat crusaders
Since turning the bathroom window into a makeshift kitty door, the cats (Freya and Loki) have become super heroes. They swoop in and out of the window like caped crusaders. I'm proud of the difference they're trying to make out there.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
notes
May 19, 2009
Ninja skills improving. Can now block anything! Including psychic attacks.
Exception: Prone to attack while writing. Attempt to learn pen-like defense.
Ninja skills improving. Can now block anything! Including psychic attacks.
Exception: Prone to attack while writing. Attempt to learn pen-like defense.
The first script.
This is the first script, or plot outline (that I've kept). I will be deviating a great deal from the original outline presented below, but this is pretty much the origin of the
The Nazi Golem
1.
I was the first product to be pushed off the assembly line in America’s arms race against the Nazi’s. They made me into a weapon. They stripped me of emotion, filled me with chemicals, and replaced all my organs with machines.
Scenes of surgery in which cybernetics are being introduced into the body of the soldier; chemicals are being pumped in and drained out. Another scene of the soldier strapped to a chair being shown propagandist footage, his eyes are being held open. Super imposed over the panel is the American flag.
2.
My senses were hyperaware. Existence flowed past me like a river in slow motion. I could foresee an opponent’s next move before they were even aware of it. A glance at a room would give me a mathematical equation determining exactly where to step and how to strike to increase my kill ratio and cut down on damage done to myself.
Scenes of the soldier fighting, his opponents outnumber him. Shots of specific strikes, where he is dodging one opponent while attacking another, followed by a shot of a blood drenched room filled with bodies.
3.
While the American’s concentrated their efforts on creating the perfect soldier through the manipulation of genetics and cybernetic augmentation, the Germans and the Japanese combined their formidable knowledge of science and the occult to create their own version of the super soldier. From this union came the German’s paramilitary division which developed a program they referred to as the Stahl Reich. Robotic supermen, more machine then man, that unleashed a wave of fear and devastation that would alter the course of the war.
Scenes mirroring those of the soldier going through his super soldier process, except that in place of some of the cybernetics and chemicals are tentacle bug-like robotics. In place of the footage is some ritual centered around a sigil. Finally the soldiers are encased in metal and are seen destroying tanks and buildings. In the background the American flag burns.
4.
From my proximity to the energies of parallel realities, I began to develop certain ailments that at the time showed all the symptoms of cancer due to exposure to radioactive substances. I became weaker with each successive mission, and that in turn would eventually result in my capture by the Nazis.
Scene of the American super soldier fighting the Nazi super soldiers. The Nazi super soldiers are shown being burst open by various attacks, spraying blood, gore and radiating energy. Shot of the American super soldier being scanned by a machine and doctors looking at the results with astonishment. More scenes of the American super soldier fighting with the Nazi super soldiers, except that in these scenes, the American super soldier is seen taking considerable damage and eventually being defeated and imprisoned.
5.
I, with my genetically engineered DNA and years of absorbing Supernatural energies was a perfect candidate for the Stahl Reich program. My brain was completely washed of all allegiances and reprogrammed to be a devout follower of the Nazi party. My sickly body was encased within the structure of a metal Golem and dark Necromantic Magicks brought us to life. I was reborn a machine of murderous intent with a mechanical heart that beat to a Fascist drum. I goose stepped Germany obediently into victory after victory in the second and last World War.
Shot of the American super soldier strapped into a chair, electrodes running from his head, mechanical appendages probing exposed pieces of his brain, while his body arches and writhes in pain, a look of terror etched across his face. Another shot mirroring the early scene of the American super soldier where he was strapped to a chair watching propagandist films, except this time, the swastika is super imposed over the panel. Shots of the American super soldier being encased in a metal shell followed by a close up of his newly encased head being bombarded by dark energies. The next shots are of the ex-American super soldier leading Nazi super soldiers as they destroy American tanks and slaughter American soldiers in gory scenes. The last shot is of the ex-American super soldier super imposed behind the white house which is burning and in ruin.
6.
A new empire was established with the Fuhrer ruling over all, his mind and body now at the center of a living robot city. Miles of electronics lay inside bloated fatty coils of synthetic flesh made from the bodies of the dead. The hunger of the living robot city of Adolf Hitler was insatiable. Always there were more electronic tributes and living sacrifices to his ever growing body.
Start with a panel of Adolf Hitler at the center of the city. His body is connected by tubes, cables, pumps and wires to hulking biomorphic machinery that surrounds him. Draw back to reveal the bloated fatty coils, oozing globs of steaming ichor. It should resemble an overstuffed sausage filled with electronics and dead bodies. Draw back even more and we see a large cthulhian-like opening where soldiers are feeding in electronic devices and human beings.
Still the living computer city demanded more.
7.
At the height of its power the Nazi empire attempted to open a gateway to the Multiverse. Instead they ripped open a hole in the fabric of reality and dimensional energy poured in. The landscape of our reality would never be the same.
The ex-American super soldier stands at the top of a cliff overlooking an alien landscape.
The Nazi Golem
1.
I was the first product to be pushed off the assembly line in America’s arms race against the Nazi’s. They made me into a weapon. They stripped me of emotion, filled me with chemicals, and replaced all my organs with machines.
Scenes of surgery in which cybernetics are being introduced into the body of the soldier; chemicals are being pumped in and drained out. Another scene of the soldier strapped to a chair being shown propagandist footage, his eyes are being held open. Super imposed over the panel is the American flag.
2.
My senses were hyperaware. Existence flowed past me like a river in slow motion. I could foresee an opponent’s next move before they were even aware of it. A glance at a room would give me a mathematical equation determining exactly where to step and how to strike to increase my kill ratio and cut down on damage done to myself.
Scenes of the soldier fighting, his opponents outnumber him. Shots of specific strikes, where he is dodging one opponent while attacking another, followed by a shot of a blood drenched room filled with bodies.
3.
While the American’s concentrated their efforts on creating the perfect soldier through the manipulation of genetics and cybernetic augmentation, the Germans and the Japanese combined their formidable knowledge of science and the occult to create their own version of the super soldier. From this union came the German’s paramilitary division which developed a program they referred to as the Stahl Reich. Robotic supermen, more machine then man, that unleashed a wave of fear and devastation that would alter the course of the war.
Scenes mirroring those of the soldier going through his super soldier process, except that in place of some of the cybernetics and chemicals are tentacle bug-like robotics. In place of the footage is some ritual centered around a sigil. Finally the soldiers are encased in metal and are seen destroying tanks and buildings. In the background the American flag burns.
4.
From my proximity to the energies of parallel realities, I began to develop certain ailments that at the time showed all the symptoms of cancer due to exposure to radioactive substances. I became weaker with each successive mission, and that in turn would eventually result in my capture by the Nazis.
Scene of the American super soldier fighting the Nazi super soldiers. The Nazi super soldiers are shown being burst open by various attacks, spraying blood, gore and radiating energy. Shot of the American super soldier being scanned by a machine and doctors looking at the results with astonishment. More scenes of the American super soldier fighting with the Nazi super soldiers, except that in these scenes, the American super soldier is seen taking considerable damage and eventually being defeated and imprisoned.
5.
I, with my genetically engineered DNA and years of absorbing Supernatural energies was a perfect candidate for the Stahl Reich program. My brain was completely washed of all allegiances and reprogrammed to be a devout follower of the Nazi party. My sickly body was encased within the structure of a metal Golem and dark Necromantic Magicks brought us to life. I was reborn a machine of murderous intent with a mechanical heart that beat to a Fascist drum. I goose stepped Germany obediently into victory after victory in the second and last World War.
Shot of the American super soldier strapped into a chair, electrodes running from his head, mechanical appendages probing exposed pieces of his brain, while his body arches and writhes in pain, a look of terror etched across his face. Another shot mirroring the early scene of the American super soldier where he was strapped to a chair watching propagandist films, except this time, the swastika is super imposed over the panel. Shots of the American super soldier being encased in a metal shell followed by a close up of his newly encased head being bombarded by dark energies. The next shots are of the ex-American super soldier leading Nazi super soldiers as they destroy American tanks and slaughter American soldiers in gory scenes. The last shot is of the ex-American super soldier super imposed behind the white house which is burning and in ruin.
6.
A new empire was established with the Fuhrer ruling over all, his mind and body now at the center of a living robot city. Miles of electronics lay inside bloated fatty coils of synthetic flesh made from the bodies of the dead. The hunger of the living robot city of Adolf Hitler was insatiable. Always there were more electronic tributes and living sacrifices to his ever growing body.
Start with a panel of Adolf Hitler at the center of the city. His body is connected by tubes, cables, pumps and wires to hulking biomorphic machinery that surrounds him. Draw back to reveal the bloated fatty coils, oozing globs of steaming ichor. It should resemble an overstuffed sausage filled with electronics and dead bodies. Draw back even more and we see a large cthulhian-like opening where soldiers are feeding in electronic devices and human beings.
Still the living computer city demanded more.
7.
At the height of its power the Nazi empire attempted to open a gateway to the Multiverse. Instead they ripped open a hole in the fabric of reality and dimensional energy poured in. The landscape of our reality would never be the same.
The ex-American super soldier stands at the top of a cliff overlooking an alien landscape.
The first picture of the Nazi Golem
This is the first picture that I've drawn of the main character, who at this point is simply known as the Nazi Golem.
I live next to an ancient Wizard.
You know the type. All old and wrinkly, at first glance not worth more then a bucket of nothing. They fade in and out of your perception; you wander sometimes if there is even someone there at all. That's a glamour. I tend to imagine it’s like putting on a gray shroud that makes you unnoticeable by all others. That’s the way my neighbor is. We’ve lived next to him for months now, but haven’t seen him more then a dozen times.
When we do see him, he comments on the weather rather hurriedly, as if at any moment that weather might change and dash to pieces what he’s just said. I think his name might be Gerry, but I’m not even sure how I know that.
He lives in one of three apartments in this building. The building is one of those rushed; lop sided jobs that you can actually see “settling”. The main floor takes up the entire first floor and basement, and even includes two porches, front and back.
The Wizard’s apartment is slightly larger then our own, or slightly smaller, depending upon the time of day. If you walk around the outside from the East corner of the house to the top of the stairs, you would estimate the distance at around fifteen feet. Yet when you enter the hallway, you would swear that it’s about fifteen feet from the bottom of the steps to the Wizard’s front door. But if that were true, then that door would have to open up onto the East side of the house, which it clearly does not, as the East side of the house has two small windows set far to the right and left respectively.
I once read a book that involved this same phenomenon; it was called House of Leaves, and was written by a man named Mark Z. Danielewski . If you get a chance, check it out, I doubt that you’ll finish it, but it’s a great trip into what I call experimental reading/writing. At any rate, in the book they deal with a closet door that mysteriously appeared one day when the family was away. The door lead into a closet, which eventually was a hallway, which eventually became a giant winding stairs complete with unknown Lovecraftian entities lurking in the darkness. Our next door neighbor, Grant (I think that’s his name) is a Wizard, and the occultic activities that he’s been initiating are having a direct physical (or metaphysical as the case may be) effect on our house.
Our downstairs neighbor stopped us one day about a month ago and asked what religion we were. The old lady said she didn’t ride that train, and then said that I was a Witch. He said he already knew that I was a Witch. That was when my interest was sparked and I joined the conversation. He said that we were conducting “occultic activities” upstairs and that it was affecting his household. His household consisted of himself, a single 20-something dad, his two kids and a pit bull named Dakota. He further explained that his spiritual awareness came from his prior experience with the Church of Satan, and there was some insinuation made that Witchcraft and Satanism were in someway similar.
I won’t go into detail at this point on what words were exchanged. Having Satanism compared to Witchcraft is a gut punch to the bread basket of my spiritual self, so I was upset, and when I’m upset I tend to say things that I wouldn’t ordinarily mean. I said those things and more. I made insinuation that it was his family that was causing the spiritual anomalies (which he never specified outside of it being some sort of negativity that he and his children could “feel”), and that he should look in that direction for the culprit of these imagined occurrences.
In retrospect I feel bad for jumping down the guy’s throat, but he said the wrong thing, and I reacted in the wrong way. I hate talking to my neighbors anyways.
I now know what was going on then, and what is quickly escalating now. Gary the next door Wizard has created some sort of spacial anomaly in his apartment and it’s beginning to warp and stretch the fabric of reality. I don’t know what he’s got over there, but it’s not just his lazy boy and an old black & White. You can literally feel the pressure through the walls. Whatever he’s got in place to contain what he’s working with is just barely doing its job. Either that or what he’s working with is so substantial that conventional circle protection just isn’t adequate enough.
That is why I think he’s an ancient Wizard, and not just some long lived fairy folk. The guy radiates and aura that is set to kill. Inadvertently fuck with that guy, and your day is going to take a dramatic turn for the worse.
My hypothesis is this, that Grendel my next door neighbor who happens to be a Wizard and is more then likely older then time itself, has created a workspace to craft his spells and design his rituals. This workspace may be on another world, in another dimension or simply an idea that has been given shape via the Wizard Garrett’s considerable talents as a wizard of the Multiverse. I have no doubt now that the man is walker between the worlds, a traveler of the outer skirts of reality. Walking into his apartment is a matter of decision for this very ancient man. If he chose to, he would undoubtedly be able to walk “into” any portion of reality that he wanted.
I’ve estimated that the bulk of the energy is centered around what would be his living room, which is directly opposite our own. You can feel the nothingness of it. The paradoxical nature of something being there and not being there is almost tangible enough you feel you could reach out and touch it.
He also makes the most amazing smelling food. The only time that I ever hear noise is when something is cooking in his kitchen. I suspect he uses a Golem for most of the domestic jobs.
When we do see him, he comments on the weather rather hurriedly, as if at any moment that weather might change and dash to pieces what he’s just said. I think his name might be Gerry, but I’m not even sure how I know that.
He lives in one of three apartments in this building. The building is one of those rushed; lop sided jobs that you can actually see “settling”. The main floor takes up the entire first floor and basement, and even includes two porches, front and back.
The Wizard’s apartment is slightly larger then our own, or slightly smaller, depending upon the time of day. If you walk around the outside from the East corner of the house to the top of the stairs, you would estimate the distance at around fifteen feet. Yet when you enter the hallway, you would swear that it’s about fifteen feet from the bottom of the steps to the Wizard’s front door. But if that were true, then that door would have to open up onto the East side of the house, which it clearly does not, as the East side of the house has two small windows set far to the right and left respectively.
I once read a book that involved this same phenomenon; it was called House of Leaves, and was written by a man named Mark Z. Danielewski . If you get a chance, check it out, I doubt that you’ll finish it, but it’s a great trip into what I call experimental reading/writing. At any rate, in the book they deal with a closet door that mysteriously appeared one day when the family was away. The door lead into a closet, which eventually was a hallway, which eventually became a giant winding stairs complete with unknown Lovecraftian entities lurking in the darkness. Our next door neighbor, Grant (I think that’s his name) is a Wizard, and the occultic activities that he’s been initiating are having a direct physical (or metaphysical as the case may be) effect on our house.
Our downstairs neighbor stopped us one day about a month ago and asked what religion we were. The old lady said she didn’t ride that train, and then said that I was a Witch. He said he already knew that I was a Witch. That was when my interest was sparked and I joined the conversation. He said that we were conducting “occultic activities” upstairs and that it was affecting his household. His household consisted of himself, a single 20-something dad, his two kids and a pit bull named Dakota. He further explained that his spiritual awareness came from his prior experience with the Church of Satan, and there was some insinuation made that Witchcraft and Satanism were in someway similar.
I won’t go into detail at this point on what words were exchanged. Having Satanism compared to Witchcraft is a gut punch to the bread basket of my spiritual self, so I was upset, and when I’m upset I tend to say things that I wouldn’t ordinarily mean. I said those things and more. I made insinuation that it was his family that was causing the spiritual anomalies (which he never specified outside of it being some sort of negativity that he and his children could “feel”), and that he should look in that direction for the culprit of these imagined occurrences.
In retrospect I feel bad for jumping down the guy’s throat, but he said the wrong thing, and I reacted in the wrong way. I hate talking to my neighbors anyways.
I now know what was going on then, and what is quickly escalating now. Gary the next door Wizard has created some sort of spacial anomaly in his apartment and it’s beginning to warp and stretch the fabric of reality. I don’t know what he’s got over there, but it’s not just his lazy boy and an old black & White. You can literally feel the pressure through the walls. Whatever he’s got in place to contain what he’s working with is just barely doing its job. Either that or what he’s working with is so substantial that conventional circle protection just isn’t adequate enough.
That is why I think he’s an ancient Wizard, and not just some long lived fairy folk. The guy radiates and aura that is set to kill. Inadvertently fuck with that guy, and your day is going to take a dramatic turn for the worse.
My hypothesis is this, that Grendel my next door neighbor who happens to be a Wizard and is more then likely older then time itself, has created a workspace to craft his spells and design his rituals. This workspace may be on another world, in another dimension or simply an idea that has been given shape via the Wizard Garrett’s considerable talents as a wizard of the Multiverse. I have no doubt now that the man is walker between the worlds, a traveler of the outer skirts of reality. Walking into his apartment is a matter of decision for this very ancient man. If he chose to, he would undoubtedly be able to walk “into” any portion of reality that he wanted.
I’ve estimated that the bulk of the energy is centered around what would be his living room, which is directly opposite our own. You can feel the nothingness of it. The paradoxical nature of something being there and not being there is almost tangible enough you feel you could reach out and touch it.
He also makes the most amazing smelling food. The only time that I ever hear noise is when something is cooking in his kitchen. I suspect he uses a Golem for most of the domestic jobs.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Comic Experimentations
This is just a little experiment that I was attempting with some old comic art scanned into the computer. I've been thinking about putting a comic online and decided it would be really cool to use a multi media affect, drawn artwork with digital text, symbols and "special effects" like explosions and fire, because lets face it, as far as images go on the internet you can't put a copyright on something like that. What I'm quickly realizing is that I don't really know how to do that, and I don't have the software that would help compensate for that lack of knowledge.
I'll keep posting things here, hopefully leading up to finished pages and eventually an entire book. For now, this will have to work as a scrap book for my early attempts.
Peace and Blessed Be.
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