The Gladiator

Prangkt  knew it was wrong thinking to go venturing into Sakall 3 looking for employment.  It was one of the biggest shit holes in the five lateral sectors - but he did it anyway.  Driven by those universal motivators sustenance and shelter - he went. Stepping cautiously into the deep shadows of the entrance tunnel . . . how many days ago now . . .  he couldn't remember. He moved forward  -  and then it all went black.
Judging by the throbbing and pulsing at the back of his head he could tell he was drugged. Must have been that froth vine cream he was handed by those Skouds. And to think he always held Skouds in high regard before. Little blue jerks. And then a flashing of lights and the sensation of heat and pressure. Only to wake to find himself with handling loops fully installed into his body. Aggression stimulator chips sunk deep into the soft tissues of his sub - brain. And threats,  threats,  threats. Oh, and the Circullo Beetle Sap they are now trying to get him addicted to.  Great - just flipping great !
"Ahhhh . . . I really did it this time . . ." Prangkt thought as he was being dragged to his first match.  But things have a funny way of balancing themselves out.  And if the Repsectian guard was paying more attention to his captive slave, than indulging his meandering thoughts in the copulation trenches he looked forward to visiting at the end of his shift - he would have noticed a sly long grin starting on the face of his Veelunian captive - a long hard cold sharp edged smile. For little known to the guard or his superiors, for he arrived without papers on that needful eve - they had just grabbed and have been tormenting and mishandling  PRANGKT - the terror of the inversion wars -  butcher of the embryo caverns - impaler of every last Terdt, half dead or still running at the end of the Claussian Battles.  Sole mutilator of the poisoned convents and their repulsive occupants on Station 343 near the edge of the Induus Belt. Assassin of Bwunder the Cruel.  Dispatcher of thousands of souls. Reaper. Lover. Tormentor. Gladiator . . . . P R A N G K T !!!  Boy are they in  T R O U B L E  now !!!

E A S T E R madness -

ALRIGHT  ~   It's spring and that means it's time for more ridiculous cult ritual celebrations by our mono-theist friends and nieghbours. So when a star isn't guiding shepherds to sheds to watch waifs being born into filth along side chattel - it's what - a fat man riding flying caribou who leaves gifts for you by jumping down your chimney ? Wow - who handed out the L.S.D. at breakfast this morning ???
O.K. - so the spring festival is the topper for me  - a tortured man, nailed to lumber, thrown into a cave, who only .....  RISES FROM THE DEAD  three days later !!!  What ???  Holy walking zombies Batman !!!  Oh yeah, and lets not forget the canabalistic aspects of this cultist behaviour - eating the flesh and drinking the blood of the slain. Awesome !!! Thank [ something ] these people are 'civilized'  Who knows what they could get up to if they weren't.  Whew !!!
       So - I thought I'd post this in lieu of the approaching 'holiday' - cause, like Scoob - people aren't going to get it. The chances of being accused of some 'awful' perspective ( philosophically / ideologically ) run high !!!  And the irony is .... the finger pointing and suspicion will come from the cultists - because I made a red man with bat wings instead of - what .... a skinny hippie long hair who's supposed to save the world by running around telling people to love each other. Good work J.C. - look around - it's really catching on.  And considering most people I talk to about this stuff ( religion ) only fiend adherence to those ridiculous systems out of coercion and threat - "You'll burn FOREVER if you don't tow the party line !!!" It seems desperate and sad. And also a hudge drive for capaital and financial gain.  Fascists. Desperate...... scared...... heads in the sand little fascists.

Oh well....... more fairy tales in the land of the strange. Each to their own.

Peace & Love - and free chocolate  ~  Uncle  -  J i m

ZINE ~ 3

      The wind in trees that you hear but never see.

    The idea of time that seems to live only on the face of a clock.

    The chanting of memories like drums in your mind.

    The constant leaving and arriving of things.

    Shadows always present  -

    no matter how bright the sun.

( Recommended Listening : 'Burn Girl Prom Queen' by Mogwai. Album : EP 6 )

     back & front Cover                                                                   
     

 

pg 1 & 2

 pg 3 & 4

                                                           
                                                                        pg 5 & 6

Holiday Shirts

 

So - it was the Holiday Season. A time of scared poultry, slain trees and Yuletide wreaths. Chocolate, Candy canes, red eyes and baked goods. Dreamy snow filled evenings trimmed with blinking lights, back lit with the glow of burning credit cards and the smell of fresh ground nutmeg. Oh yeah, and GIFTS !!!!
  

This year I wanted to do something really excellent for Baily, My Girlfriend Nicole's five year old son. But what do you get a five year old . . . ? 

Lasers ?

Rockets ?

A small ( child size ) vial of Dark matter . . . . who knows ?

Well, after considering how much he LOVED 'Teen Fly' and 'Camera 5' ( she told me one night, after I asked her about gift ideas for him ) I thought - 
 

" Ah - HA - there it is old boy -  gifts the

little wild man would love !!! "

So I went ahead and refreshed the designs.

Printed them up and ironed them on. I was planning on having them professionally done, but then I considered his growth rate. In a year he might not even be able to wear them. So that's why I did them at home, and that way I can do them again, and again for him when he is ready. ( either outgrown, or destroyed or both ) ~ ah, hahahahahahaha !!!!!!

 

They turned out well and it was fun revising some old designs. Cropping, moving and rebuilding them.

And of course, watching him run

around in them is an excellent thing as well  !!!

I'm very glad he likes them, for I had no idea where in the Hell to find any Dark matter. They were fresh out at the Mall.

FEED BACK ~ Vol 2

The thin curtains sighed and fell as the breeze withdrew. 

Far away across the hot woods something changed. 

A subtle push. An inhalation.

And then damp mouthfuls across our summer skin. 

Outside the grasses and weeds looked as if they were shivering, dissolving in the sinking green light.

Sounds in the brittle brown undergrowth.

Dangerous soft rustling.  Edging in the shade.

Your eyes, Deer like, looked down.

No words.

And the thin dirty laces in your sneakers.

 

Back & Front Cover

 

pg 1 & 2

 

pg 3 & 4

 

pg 5 & 6