Garfield, as written by Samuel Beckett

typed for your pleasure on 6 August 2006, at 5.38 pm

Sdtrk: ‘Lass dir Zeit’ by die Crazy Girls

Frantic Frightened Frequent readers of ‘Shouting etc etc’ know how much I love that fat orange cartoon cat named Garfield™®. And when I say ‘love’, I of course mean ‘loathe‘. However, in reading the recent b3ta newsletter deposited gently within my Inbox, I now know of exactly six strips of that ‘comic’ series that I actually enjoy. One of the features it had was a link to one of those periodically-funny-but-usually-repellent ytmnd sites, having to do with the death of Garfield™®. I’ll provide the link here in a moment, but first, let the associated Wikipedia entry relate to you its tale.

One storyline, which lasted a week from October 23, 1989 (possibly to coincide with Halloween, although the 31st actually fell the following week), is unique among Garfield strips in that it is not meant to be humorous. It depicts Garfield awakening in a future in which the house is abandoned and he no longer exists. This is revealed to have been a dream of some kind, and ends with this narration:

“An imagination is a powerful tool. It can tint memories of the past, shade perceptions of the present, or paint a future so vivid that it can entice…or terrify, all depending on how we conduct ourselves today.”

Alternatively, some theorize that the end of this storyline actually implies that the rest of the series, the more conventional strips, are all fantasies Garfield is playing out in his head to delude himself from realizing the dark turn his life has taken, as he slowly starves to death in an abandoned house. (emphasis mine) One would assume that his ability to eat more than physically possible in usual strips would be his use of fantasies to stave off his growing hunger and starvation. This theory is arguably supported by the text, as right before Jon and Odie reappear, the narration reads:

“After years of taking life for granted, Garfield is shaken by a horrifying vision of the inevitable process called ‘time.’ He has only one weapon…denial…

This emphasis on “denial,” with the word given its own box in the panel it appears in, and being followed immediately by the earlier text on the power of the imagination, could support the horrifying theory. However, it could also be that denial is what Garfield needed to snap himself out of this dark vision. This is also more likely considering the only way Garfield could have gotten into “a world where he no longer exists” is if that world were a dream. Many, however, attribute the bleak world to the future Ebeneezer Scrooge witnessed in A Christmas Carol, where he beholds the dark and bleak image the world has become because of his negligence and lack of gratitude for other people’s efforts. Still, another point of view on this storyline is that Davis was parodying The Twilight Zone series, which often featured ominous narratives, similar to the use of narration in this set of bleak strips. Another interpretation is that Davis was going through what might have been a period of depression or crisis, and used this set of strips as a form of self-therapy. Lastly, another widely-believed theory is that Garfield was only in the house for a few days before he was rescued in the November 2 and November 3 strips, and the ‘storyline’ was just an introduction to the next week of ‘flashbacks’.

In this age of the Internuts, where lies are the order of the day, and Wikipedia being no exception, I had my doubts as to whether these strips were real. But doubt no more! Simply go to the Official Garfield™® Media Conglomerate Headquarters Web Presence here, set the controls to 1989 October 23, and look for yourself! Chilling, yes, but honestly, I’d have to say these are the funniest Garfield™® strips ever written.

The aforementioned ytmnd site would be here, just so you know. And at this point, I’d normally mention the occurrence of the date that story arc started with a favourite number of mine, but freaked-out fucked up frequent readers of ‘Shouting etc etc’ would’ve already kenned that.

‘I come not to praise Garfield, but to bury him’

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The fact that I wasn’t told about this is a tragedy

typed for your pleasure on 2 August 2006, at 7.25 pm

Sdtrk: ‘Broke my neck (Long version)’ by Echo and the Bunnymen

Right; someone needs to buy me a plane ticket and fly me out to this event right fucking now.


Obligatory photo of Ando-san, but you expected that

Once, Twice, Three Times an Android
New Gallery Exhibition Showcases Robot Women, Electronic Eves

Queens, N.Y. – Lara Croft, the Japanese robot Repliee Q2, and the Stepford Wives are a few of the artificial women pictured in Alluring Androids, Robot Women, and Electronic Eves, a new gallery exhibition opening June 17 at the New York Hall of Science.

Exploring artists’, filmmakers’, and photographers’ long-time fascination with images of artificial women that seem alive, Alluring Androids, Robot Women, and Electronic Eves contains large images of female robots, androids, automatons, dolls, mannequins, and other artificial women. These include images from films, photography, intermedia art, animation, and video ranging from early automatons to the life-like female androids in today’s video and computer games.

The exhibit is curated by State University of New York, Maritime College Professor Julie Wosk, author of Women and the Machine: Representations From the Spinning Wheel to the Electronic Age and Breaking Frame: Technology and the Visual Arts in the Nineteenth Century.

Alluring Androids, Robot Women, and Electronic Eves will be on view in the Walter O. LeCroy Gallery through September 10.

Why do I never learn about these things in time?? That exhibit had better be touring, and it had better stop in Michigan

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‘The suspect had the stolen goods in his mouth’

typed for your pleasure on 30 July 2006, at 12.44 pm

Sdtrk: ‘Yoshino no yamazakura’ by Merzbow

Awwww!


Do not be fooled – this is the face of a kitty petty criminal

Feline stealing gardening gloves of Pelham
By JIM FITZGERALD, Associated Press Writer | Fri Jul 21, 4:13 AM ETPELHAM, N.Y. – A pink and white gardening glove was missing from Jeannine Goche’s front porch. But there was absolutely no mystery about who had taken it.

Willy, the cat who loves gloves, had struck again.

“It has to be him,” Goche said. “I’ve heard about him.”

As if the gardeners of Pelham don’t have enough to worry about, with the rocky soil and the slugs and the big trees that cast too much shade, a feline felon has been sneaking into their backyards and carrying off at least two dozen gardening gloves.

Goche’s flower-patterned glove may soon take its place on the clothesline that’s strung across the front fence at Willy’s home in this village just northeast of New York City, which he shares with Jennifer and Dan Pifer, their 19-month-old son, Hudson, and a mutt named Peanut Chew.

Above the line is a sign that says: “Our cat is a glove snatcher. Please take these if yours.”

Nine pairs of gardening gloves and five singles were strung up Thursday morning. Willy, looking innocent, was playing with a beetle in the driveway and occasionally dashing after Hudson.

“This all started about the time people began working in their gardens, I guess March or April,” Jennifer Pifer said. “Willy would just show up with a glove, or we’d see them on the front steps. I guess it’s better than if he was bringing home dead birds.”
the rest of the article is here

Now show me a cat that steals bras and knickers, and I’ll be super-impressed

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An improvement on the Gravity gun

typed for your pleasure on 29 July 2006, at 2.05 am

Sdtrk: ‘Baby portable rock’ by Pizzicato five

This accursed heat and humidity is quite literally cooking me where I stand. It’s either making me lazy, or cranky, or lazy and cranky. Or sweaty. None of those states are an option.
So in the interim, you’ll have to settle for this as a post: after we watched my copy of the first series of ‘Look around you‘ (brilliant show, highly recommended), Derek showed me the trailer for the game ‘Portal’ last night whilst I was round to his, and it’s pretty fecking incredible.

It’s made by Valve, the people who created the Half-life series of video games. The graphics and concept are very ace, I have to say, but I could never actually play something like that. Apart from more than likely having to splash out for a whole new computer with go-faster stripes that would be capable of running it, a game such as this would undoubtedly bring my brain to a screeching halt. HOW DO I SHOT HOLE; that sort of thing.

More errant writing when it cools down, or when something significant happens; one or the other

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It’s not cruel, it’s.. ‘playful’

typed for your pleasure on 26 July 2006, at 11.39 pm

Sdtrk: ‘Manha de Carnaval’ by Claudine Longet

Have you seen adverts for that VisitorVille thing? It looks kinda engrossing. More engrossing than it probably needs to be.

VisitorVille takes a revolutionary visual approach to web analytics. VisitorVille makes data mining simple and accurate, easily performing tasks that are impossible to accomplish using traditional (and dreadfully boring) web analytics solutions.

What makes VisitorVille unique is immediately clear: VisitorVille does not represent website visitors simply as numbers or graphs, but as real people in a real environment. You can monitor your site traffic as if you were people-watching in a big city.

Visually it’s like the Sims, wherein you have wee people representing your site’s visitors, walking round in cities that represent your site, inside buildings that represent your site’s pages. Sometimes you’ll see buses representing search engines transporting said visitors hither and yon. I gotta say, it’s pretty innovative, but for a site stat junkie like myself, it’s such a bad idea.

I used to have a copy of the first Sims game on my old computer; I had two families, the Goths, which, if I’m not mistaken, was a default name for a couple of the character archetypes, and the Montags, who I’d actually made into Goths — well, as much as the first Sims game would allow. Over the course of my playing career, I’d discovered the cheat for making as much Simoleons as you wanted, so both families had these giant ostentatious homes that had all mod cons, needless to say.
When I realised I was wasting far too much time micromanaging their lives, one day I had the Montags, who were a couple, invite the Goths, who were a couple with a preteen daughter, round for a party, or whatever Sims do. I assembled them in a room to the size of a bedroom, and removed all the doors. Then I replaced most of the walls with floor-to-ceiling windows, and on the remaining wall space, I hung that lovely clown painting that Sims tend to find unsettling. I then added a hi-fi system, which I had constantly blaring country music at an elevated volume. Eventually my Sims wanted to listen to something different, so one would occasionally walk over and change the station. After observing the Goth’s daughter change it several times, I decided to set up a fence round the stereo.

As the subjugation party continued, more and more piles of rubbish started accumulating, which made my Sims more and more unhappy, and after three Sim hours, every member of the group had soiled themselves at least once, as I’d built no bathroom. Also, since they were falling asleep standing up, I’d graciously put a coffee maker in the room to keep them awake (what, the country music wasn’t doing that by itself?), which naturally caused more ‘accidents’.

As you can well imagine, everyone’s moods were well into the red, and I began to feel sorry for them, as I realised they hadn’t eaten in several hours. So I graciously gave them a gas grill, and selected the person least capable of cooking to make barbeque for the party. Ruh-roh!
It only took two minutes for the first of the fires to start, if memory serves me right. The entire house went up in flames, but thankfully, everyone in the room burned to death long before that happened. The party, from pleasant start to immolated finish, took about three hours of my time; after which, I uninstalled the game, and haven’t played it since.

A quick whirl on Google shows I wasn’t the only sadist, which isn’t too surprising. Now I need to find those screenshots I took..

So yeah, VisitorVille! I’m quite sure it’s pyromaniac-proof, but… wouldn’t it be a tragedy if it weren’t?

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more Real Life Work Stories

typed for your pleasure on 24 July 2006, at 10.35 pm

Sdtrk: ‘One more’ by Medicine

BLOKE ON PHONE: Well, I can’t talk right now, cos I’m heading out to work — I work for Otto Bock
ME: Ahh, as in the guys fighting the Decepticons?
BLOKE ON PHONE: Pardon?
ME: Autobots! Fighting the Decepticons… You know — Transformers, the Eighties cartoon…
BLOKE ON PHONE: Ahh, yeah, I should’ve picked up on that.

Perhaps he actually is working with the Autobots, and just doesn’t want to blow his cover; in which case, his ability to play it off is pretty admirable. Unfortunately, I’ve pledged my allegiance to the Decepticons, so his worthless life will soon be forfeit

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Ears are bleeding: supplemental

typed for your pleasure on 21 July 2006, at 4.10 pm

Sdtrk: ‘Shaken (Kid 606 refix)’ by Drop the lime

The inevitable conclusion?

SEAN (handing Cd back): ‘Yeah, that was a little too harsh for me, there.’
DAVECAT: ‘Ah ha ha ha ha!’

Obvious result? I would say so, yes..

Burnett-Rae then goes on to briefly discuss [Aleister] Crowley’s poetry and a few other topics. Of interest is when he writes, “I have mentioned that he was unusually temperate in his use of alcohol and that even a slight excess of spirits would cause him to ‘pass out’. The same could not be said of his curries! I was invited to have one of these, prepared by himself, one day just before the war. At the first mouthful I thought I had burned my tongue with caustic acid and reached for the water and thereafter took water with every successive spoonful. Crowley, however, shovelled an enormous plateful away with record speed, fortifying it as he went with chillies and other spices, the sweat pouring down his face, as if he were in a Turkish bath. When he had eaten copiously, he helped himself to more and offered me another plateful but I had had enough, although normally I am fond of curry.”
taken from this site

As I told him, Noise is really an acquired taste

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