page 39 (scroll down!) of this. The physics of the technique on display here don’t check out at all, but it was funny in my mind.
I’m still trying to figure this “ink” thing out. Likewise, I’m still not doing that. It’s getting more elaborate, but not any faster, clearer or easier. In fact, this actually looks worse with the way I color stuff than immediately after I scan it [four times, once from each corner and then reassemble the pieces]. Whoopth.
Also, the time has been two years since I last drew Rabivmip, (if we don’t include that one frame with the people running through the hall way, since I forgot about it) even though that was only 19 pages ago. What is wrong with me? The answer: something is wrong with me. I’m trying to be more outgoing and affable, so what’s wrong with you?
Aw, bacula, three hours exposed to sunlight across a week and I have freckles again.
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also of bloat: a rambunctious gang of colorful images you’ve possibly seen before.
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Good dag to you, behold and be abhorring page 8 of that. See if you can spot every missed opportunity for background shenanigans! Maybe it will be different when page nine comes around. For now my fingers are feeling less than dexterous.
The lizard’s predicament is different than it was on the previous page. I like the appearance of that way but it did not lend itself well to redraws. Eight-and-a-half years ago I had tied two socks together and drawn from that. Two months ago I didn’t feel like mixing two socks again. This month I did, so we’re back to that. I considered amending the page seven appearance to match the socks but it doesn’t look as interesting, and I just noticed the size doesn’t match either, so fleedle bidle budle. And then the usual trouble with space allotment. This process needs to change!
Those other frames I remember drawing, but for a reason I cannot recall I did not use them in the old version. Nor can I find scans of them apart from this one that I once used on a web page entirely out of context back when I was using a computer that I guess I had the scans saved on its drive. This is all probably very unimportant.
page 38 of this. Does it look to you like 80 hours of work?
I like the fur-style of the second nemitz. So why did I draw it like a werewolf in the rest of them?
I fear 20+ years of stupid side-scrolling video games has caused my skill at staging multiple characters to develop in an odd fashion.
Also, sometimes the things I do as meaningless gags mess with the things I intend for people to remember.
My inking really ISN’T getting any better. Every time it’s miserable at first and then I start to like it better toward the end. THIS time, though, there’s no excuse for that eleventh frame. Peff. I will use bigger paper next time. That will either make things slightly easier or a lot harder for a variety of unrelated reasons.
I like to think I’ve improved a little bit in eight years.
Maybe I can compile a bunch of these silly notes and call that an update. No, I CAN, but I wonder if I WILL. I haven’t decided if this one counts yet, either.
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I just went outside for ten minutes or so for the purpose of looking at the moon. That probably means I’m crazy. However, it might be the good crazy. Either way it probably also means that I am boring.
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Last year I whined, inadvertently, on my birth-day. This year I pledge not to do that. If you don’t know when it is or had forgotten, that is fine and possibly preferable.
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Monday:
Yes, it’s true! I broke my own website!
While trying to block another abusive IP address with a file called “.htaccess,” I inadvertently destroyed everything. I thought the webhost people had removed the old one, but evidently it had only been set to be invisible somehow. Since I could not find the old one to work from, I couldn’t add the old data nor keep its syntax, the syntax being the disastrous element. Eight hours later, I noticed. All I could do was swap the bad htaccess for a blank one, because I appear to never have bothered to save an online copy of the most recent functioning non-blank version. And so now not only is the new comment robot not blocked, the OLD ones are UNBLOCKED. Whoopth.
WHILE the site was broken, a message instructed anyone, possibly no one, to send email to “[email protected].” I don’t know whose address that is, but it certainly isn’t mine! I am but a webpeasant. I did sometime ago make this thing forward any email addressed to bimshwel to me, but I doubt it knows how to do that when it’s broken. Also, I haven’t been writing a page update since the last one.
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page 7 of that
At last, I have uploaded three comic pages in one month! However, I did not get much else done and now expect to revert to my standard .9 or less.
I reversed the creature positions from the old ones so they would match the previous page. However, the words fit better the old way. Whoopth. Someday I’ll figure it out. Maybe that should be the title. No, I like the current one better.
I did not hate the “I had my house built BACKWARDS” line, despite its apparent untruth conflicting with the odd, unfunny compulsion I make the speaker have later; I’m sure something about the house is backwards that kumquat kould klaim makes the statement true, but this alternate version occurred to me and I didn’t want it to go to waste.
In addition to the color, I like to think I’m using this as an opportunity to correct the errors of a poorly/not at all thought out thing but that I like the eventual result of and so dare not scrap entirely. So why am I still using the same fonts I picked out on a whim almost nine years ago? I don’t adhere to them as strictly as I did when I first started hand-writing them rather than type-setting them, but you can still discern that they’re based on fonts.
You do not own me! I do not answer to you! Stop trying to take my rights awayyyyyyyyyyyyyy!
Sunday:
Oops, now I have to go to a weird place. I assume I will return eventually.
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I always liked Montgomery Python, despite the internet’s efforts, but I still don’t think Eric Idle is that great a composer.
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I am feeling a little better, sanity wise, for the moment. However, I now have a headache.
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Saturday: I just accidentally drank some water less than half an hour after using mouthwash. I will probably be dead within the hour, but I want to let you know before I go that yes, I use mouthwash.
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Friday: Being a psychopath is no fun when you’re too sensible to act on any of your constant deranged impulses.
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There’s something incredibly wrong if the most intellectually stimulating thing I do all day is recreate the first few notes of the Faxanadu town music by scrolling through menus with my telephone.
Also, just that stupid little thought there is evidently 57 units too long to be permissible by twitter. I hate you, twitter. You discriminate against people who associate with sentences. That fits, but I won’t bother.
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Thursday: It may shock you to know that I am capable of having personal issues that prevent me from doing things that I normally do, such as talking at length about nothing in text boxes on the internet. Still, you have my assurance that they are entirely selfish and introverted reasons.
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Which means I’m not in any great trouble and I am open to being resented further.
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page 37, of this. I reckon those backgrounds are subject to change. Oh, and I’ve finally decided on a title. It’s called “weird looking people falling down for no reason.”
What’s wrong with me? I think my favorite part of this sometimes is tracing over the letters in ink, which I think you’ll agree is not my strength.
I know I had a “rule” for biv v zuh at one point, but I forgot how it went.
Alfight, now I have returned to writing things. However, I also need to return to sleeping. So much returning! I’m glad I don’t have to rewind first.
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I am drawing stuff. Progress is slow. You know how that goes.
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page 6, down there somewhere, of that.
I tried to remove bits of this conversation that don’t make sense but I left in parts that are out of character. In either case it is easier to get away with childish writing when it is accompanied by childish drawings. However, I have no intention of getting away. Even in my dreams I know: I’d never get away, not even for a day when… a peanut hits me on the nose.
Aw baw, those green bricks look like the backgrounds in Alfred Chicken. That is NOT GOOD. Even though the only bearable thing about that game were its incidental colorful environments, I’d rather not think about it for any reason. Hopefully my musical score won’t be similarly evocative.
page 36, down there somewhere, of this.
I thought: I can get away with 15 frames because this “scene” is mostly talking, mostly by the same creature, myself forgetting that before the end I’d have crazied it up with distracting lsd backgrounds. I would like to be part of an anti drug program, for the part where you explain how illicit substances destroy a user’s brain cells. You would show the caffeinated spider’s web and then this comic page. We won’t tell the kids that the worst thing I ingested was a barrel of snack mix. Maybe if I get famous I will be able to hire an assistant to undraw backgrounds for me. Fortunately, this issue has totally distracted me from the list of problems with the page I was initially going to list here. After doing them this time, I had momentarily become terrified that my character drawings were becoming more troublesome than the backgrounds, but in the end the backgrounds came through and reaffirmed themselves as the bigger nuisances and all was as it should be. Howdy.
Hey, I wonder… You don’t think…
I worry I may have more in common with that spider than I thought.
In my family, there is a traditional act done at the end of a year to ensure good fortune in the next. Only my father insists it be done and he doesn’t know it exactly as historical record (the internet) says it’s actually supposed to be done, but I go along with it anyway. A person must be locked outside the house before the year ends and request to be let in once the arbitrarily designated point in time passes. The person outside must come inside with a bread-based product, a bottle containing an alcoholic substance, and “money in your pocket.” It is imperative that the money be contained within pockets. As anyone in the world can tell, the last few years I have done this, with disastrous results. In fact, I think we might all be better off if I did not do it at all. Yet here I go once more. Enjoy your continued recession and the next installment of livestock inspired illness media hypage.
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In the coming twelve month period I resolve to not draw those poorly planned interior and exterior areas of nipfolm hospitarium dome in my stupid comic any more.
Hey, what do you know, the last time I expect to need them, on Page 35 of this!
But if they are called for in the future, ideally I will be at the point in my artistic growth-regression cycle where I don’t put the accuracy of backgrounds that don’t need to be accurate before every possible other thing, because even when I do, the light sources make no sense and sixish story buildings appear to be one half in size from the outside.
Is it a sign of a psychological disorder on my part that elpse (the green character) seems to switch between having a vaguely masculine and feminine physique at random? Before you answer, I should inform you that yes. However, it is not deliberate; It may well depend on what pose I want to use and how much space there is in the frame. It merely has happened and I have not seen any reason to correct whichever one is inaccurate, now that I’ve noticed; in fact it I think it’s funny. This is good, because I used to fear elpse was being perceived as boring and unlikable, and such weirdness distracts from that. This is of additional benefit to everyone, as according to my script there are pages and pages of just walking and saying stuff coming up.
That was so weak, pointless and stupid, 2010 has no CHOICE but to seem like an improvement.
Tue’s day: I just realized I forgot to do the “alarm” color overlays as I did last time. Eh.
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page 34 of Aw Beans: A Beet Street High Seas Adventure Starring Lorna Doone and Dinty Moore
This one features some of the worst inking I’ve ever done. I’m really not getting any better at it. However, I am getting very good at wasting time/ink adding needless black shadow-lines that I have to remove after I scan the deal because it makes everything look burnt once it is converted from gray to black-and-white and actual color gradations are added. Whoopth.
The dimensions of that room and its relationship with the hallway continue to change. I grow weary of its rebellious ways and will tolerate them not much longer.
My scanner needs to be fixed/replaced, but this sort of thing hardly seems worth the trouble.
A special message from Jay Piscopo among the comments.
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Page 33 (it’s below page 32) of this.
Hey, remember when I used to post a comic here? Well I don’t. Could you remind me what that was like?
The moral of this story: believe in yourself and you too might one day cause someone else a spinal injury
The page size limit affects me yet again. I do not think it is as obvious today as the previous time, though. The size was FINE when I was PLANNING the thing. It was only when I drew it and started thinking “maybe THIS should happen instead…” that problems arose. Problems often arouse themselves in this way.
Once this “story” is finished, I intend to use a different content-delivery method if I think of one that seems like I would be capable of working with it. I imagine the shift would be considered abrupt if I did it mid-action. Even though I apparently have no problem with taking month-long breaks mid action, ideally at the conclusion, when the next images are posted, the gap isn’t visually apparent. Surely it’s fun enough to track the color depth changes between pages.
I wanted to be like Hergé. As far as cramming lots of stuff into little spaces and having it not seem like I crammed it beyond reasonable protocols of crammage goes. I still do. I cannot. Look at this page. Or don’t, but I’m going to continue talking as if you’ve looked at it regardless of whether you have. FIVE rows of panels. I never even realized the pictures were smaller than usual here until a few years prior to now because the author was a master at what he did. Every little box gets my full attention, as if it’s all I see (ehhh, in the actual book, off the internet, at least). Not only are there lots of boxes, a lot happens into. Herge gets China invaded and occupied, and then the invasion gloated about in ONE PAGE. Maybe it’s a little bit racist, maybe Tintin’s survival throughout his numerous captivities is incredibly improbable, that these guys who start wars just because they feel like it will point guns at but not kill the one meddler who threatens them the most, but that’s beside the point that my drawings are incomprehensible. It’s beside the point of itself because the improbability doesn’t affect my desire to finish viewing the story nor my ability to enjoy it. That improbability is all around us and people are used to it. I need to realize that I can get away with some blatant improbabilities. I do, but most of the ones I set up are, at their roots, attempts to avoid other improbabilities that are easier for people to ignore. Or something like that. I feel asleep back when I used a form of “improbable” in the fourth consecutive sentence.
August 25:
Here, for the first time performing together anywhere, the Karate Kid, Harry Potter and Michael Moore!… Cripes, I’m going to bed. Except I can’t because I just woke up. Everybody is in my business this week. There will be no proper site updates until each and every person who is in it that shouldn’t be gets out from within my business. Why don’t you instead go to the most boring seaside restarauraurant in the world and not eat anything for approximately two-thousand hours and get nauseous from heat and rage, all the while knowing there is business to tend to? And when you’re done with that, please, by all means, hop on over to Harbor Health for a series of meetings with the world’s dumbest clinicians because your brain is broken and legally that means you have to meet with people who have advanced degrees in dumbness every once in a while so you can tell them about the things which bother you that aren’t them.
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page 32… or perhaps it is more like 31-and-a-half, of this. The stupid comic. It is still not what I want, but I like to think it is better than it was. I am fully aware that the curtains I previously showed from outside the room don’t correspond at all with the ones I have been showing from inside it recently. I’m pretty sure I covered this in the last page’s excuse.
It is hard to accept that aside from their respective brief ventures outward, the red and green creatures have been in that room for a year now.
I forgot that page 31a needed fixing. I will get to that right around the time I do so. Page 4 needs fixing, too. Most pages need fixing. We must do what we can to control the stray page population.
July 28:
Big trouble today. Big trouble tomorrow. Big trouble all week. Big trouble big bad. No good. Must make great kill at hunt and honor ancestor. Dance with mountain people. Thumpa thumpa yo! Sacrificial beneficial, nothing here is artificial. My teeth hurt.
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July 27:
Big trouble today. My rubbish AT&T internet connection has not helped. It is simply not feasible for me to update this page the way I desire to or talk to anybody. The replacement frame is just about the worst piece of artwork ever done. It looks like something out of the first issue of Ninja Turtles. Except it probably took me as long to draw that one frame as Laird Eastman did drawing the whole comic book. Oops. That’s all I have time to say.
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Ohhhh, busybusybusy.
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bad news: I crammed far too many words on this page
good news: I couldn’t cram in as many as I wanted
better news: the awful hospital part is almost over
bad news: “almost” means in about three or so pages, which will take me as many months to finish
worse news: I don’t know what happens next yet.
Elpz seems unconcerned with, or worse, entirely oblivious to the fact that it is the only character on the page that is naked. The hat, being an item of clothing, is exempt, and it wears a stylish feather, besides.
Yet one more indicator I should switch to a fixed width, vertical format without page barriers. Apparently eliminating excess dialogue and space-wasting non-gags is not an option. I just don’t like the idea of drawing big stupid backgrounds for frames where only one character is visible.
Also, it is becoming apparent I that have some perverse fascination with mail delivery. However, I do not. I merely am not terribly creative when it (it being something) comes to plot devices.
I am not soliciting them, but I am open to dialog simplification suggestions. Do you think you could write this better than I could? Then you’re probably right!
I probably won’t post something new tomorrow.
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page 30 (scroll down) of this.
Superfluous data:
The inking went better on the letters this time, but the actual drawings were still a mess and needed just as much post-scan mending as on past occasions. I at least seem to understand curtains better than I used to, but it’s still not enough.
People who have remarked have a few times done so to the amount that they don’t know what the characters’ names are. One thing that I find wacky about comics and indeed most fictional media is the manner in which plot details, including names, are compulsively stated even in situations where all parties (frequently just one person speaking to itself) should know everything and not need to say so. Still, somehow or another the reader ought to be informed, in most cases. I inserted a couple of names in here and it looked quite weird (apart from the the usual unusualness, naturally). It seemed like somebody else wrote it. I changed one of them to a “you.”
I drew the creature without ears, and then I saw some other picture where it had ears, so I drew ears on the next one, and they seemed unnecessary. If you’re bothered by the inconsistency you may imagine the fool has retractable ears.
No such excuse exists for the various background elements which are not totally consistent with prior depictions. Which is odd, because I knew all along what my intent was, so I should have been able to work something out. Maybe the room has more than one door and that control panel thing behind the bed is a stage prop.
I am not sure what the difference between a doctor and a doctrel is. Maybe this just regards the collar style of the laboratory coat worn, when applicable. Or perhaps doctrel is how they are addressed but doctor is what they are, even though this contradicts what I have already established. Maybe one kind is mean and the other kind is incompetent.
Between the page halves I lost my remaining point-three millimeter tip Techliner pen. It was certainly not the ideal drawing instrument and I only paid two dollars for it, but it was the best I had. I had to substitute… some other pen. It says “Pilot G2 07” but I think that can’t mean 0.7 millimeters because the “big” pen I use, for most of the outlines and the frame edges, is only 0.5 millimeters at the edge.
I thought we were friends.
Aw beans! page 29 of this.
It is below page 28. It is sort of dull.
The creature’s horns are different because of some reason. This change may not have been a good change. The thing looks too much like a pokemon. It did before, but the horns at least were in opposition to that. I may change them back. I have that power. (and I used it)
Monday, the eighteen
For the first time, I cooked a ham today. Or, more accurately, I placed a pre-cooked ham on to an aluminium foil-covered tray which I then placed into an oven and checked back on an hour later. It tasted adequately hammy, but that it bore a flavor like the flesh of a slaughtered animal proves very little. How well I actually did will only be revealed by how soon and how severely I become confined to the intestinal cleansing chamber. As a child it was common for me to eat just meat during a meal and ignore any side items provided and I suffered no ill effects from it, as far as I can recall linking ill effects to meat consumption. Today, less than ten minutes after eating four or five sizable slices of the ham I’ve already consumed nearly two snapple bottles* worth of water as part of my recovery process. Phlegm production has only just begun. It is an exciting time to be alive.
*I used this curious unit of measurement as I drank the water out of a snapple bottle.
And now, I place here the things I placed above the previous entry, because it was already obscenely long, and I hate to dilute the glory of Buck Choc, besides. I will have a nap and decide if I still like these being here when I wake up.
And no, I don’t, but they can’t go anywhere else.
Sunday the seventeen: I am not a third wheel. Third wheels provide safety and stability. I am a fifth wheel. I am the tire-shaped object attached to the back of a jeep after the tire has been used. I’m just some round thing that you have to teach yourself to not be aware of because it’s so out of place that it cannot be tolerated.
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Saturday, the sixteen:
Mad Television, a program which I have spent far too much of my life (that being any of it) complaining about the errors of, never quite able to totally pull myself away from, much like a drug, just without the superficial fun times and convenient dulling of the senses, seems to at last be airing the series “finale” it’s had coming for a decade or so, thereby pulling itself away from me instead. Ah ha, ha ah! I win! The question on every me’s mind is: can the Mad Televised get through the last show they’ll ever do without padding up the 48 minutes of air time with old sketches featuring people who aren’t on the show anymore and isolated instances of writer competence despite producing at least eight best-of specials, presented as new content, in the past two years, these specials themselves not able to find enough usable content to justify their existences, needing to be padded up with needless, annoying “host” segments? The answer may bore you.
The still thriving program alleged to be its counterpart also had some slightly unusual thing going on today, yesterday or tomorrow and I said something about that but I’ve been in strange places lately and what I wrote currently still is. Curiously enough, if I had it I’d say nothing because I’d realize it was a mess and I just wouldn’t use it. I don’t have time to realize this is also a mess.
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Friday, the fifteen:
I’m tired of “funny” white rappers. Saying rhyming stuff over slow beats while wearing sunglasses isn’t in fact incredibly hard, and it isn’t necessarily hilarious just because you have light skin and chose deliberately dweebish subject matter. I don’t think Andy Samberg invented them nor embodies their absolute worst qualities but he certainly empowered them. I realize I linked on more than one past occasion to a web [my-space] page by some Mad Dome Gettaz, but a: I am related to one of them and 2: they could actually rap, however big a fan of that I may not be.
