Markre de Sol: Behind the Ramparts and Dreaming: January 2005

Ice cold cat gets red hot poker

Solid.

I have seen the future, and it is ASIMO: Honda's amazing elderly-man like robot. This simulacrum gave a presentation of its high-techery at OSU's theatre yesterday and I had the good fortune to sneak in and behold its miracles. Four xample: the automoton can walk in a circular path (which is apparently hella complex for a soulless device) and it can also walk up and down stairs (surpassing the ED209 of Robocop lore).

So, needless to say, I was both intrigued and unimpressed by the metal beast. I mean, having a walking machine that looks like a little spaceman is not that helpful to a world that needs free oil or weather-resistant housing. But, the fun part is that perhaps in the next 50 years the ASIMO technology will be advanced enough to yield some I-Robotic consequences. Robot butlers (no, not slaves, I never said they'd be slaves) delivering booze to the upper-crust, then being the designated driver while their masters hurl out the side of the Benz. Sounds ideal. Hey, perhaps sexual deviants will molest the robots rather than screwing up the youth of the world. Somehow I doubt it.

On a lighter note - I did an improv show yesterday morning. It went really well despite my group's impudent jam session blasfeeming Got before we took the side. No, God is good and does lots of wonderful things for me and my people. Alexander Graham Bell didn't indtend telemarketers.

I went bar lest night. Discovered that I can't really drink anymore. The whole dynamic has changed. I've become too uptight to release that old world-destroying Monster that lives inside Drunken Mark. Perhaps it's a consequence of growing up. You can't act like a highschooler forever. Well... You can but then you'd get a punitive disease for your crimes against humanity and decorum. Like acid reflux.

Life is an establishment known as a cabaret.

SEE PICTURE OF THE FUTURE IN PREVIOUS POSTRE

Why hast thou forsaken me?

Here comes le Pan!

The funniest thing about homeless people...

So I'm walking to a mandatory meeting with my professor to discuss a research paper topic that I haven't previously allowed to enter my headspace. Frantically picking my mind for something relevant to the scholarly theatre community that I might be interested in researching and writing about. Suddenly: Hey, why don't I examine pan-handlers from a theatrical POV? The performative aspect of the sob story. That would be offensive to people with any kind of morals, so it might just appeal to scholars. So I approached my professor and pathetically pitched my non-idea. Low and behold, he had done the exact same thing in Greece in 2003! He's going to write a book about it. ???

Injection in the bum.

I had a dream last night that I had to jump up on stage and do some stand up and I didn't have any material. Which is mostly true. Scary b/c its true.

Amputee actors.

boi boi boi

Mark

I always bring this anal eyepatch, that's what I bring to these things!

Merry 2005 Nossagins,

Ah I do love a beautiful music I do. T'maikes me li-oe nibbies fee wau glow-wurmie in me fackin' epidermis. Although intellectually I dislike The Mars Volta (because those damn punk kids listen to it), it does indeed have a nice twist of note. Sounds good to my head holes.

So thank you very much to Mr. J S, who taught me how to create links to the blogs of others. Now you can read the words of ppl I went to university with (like you give the crap). So you can read the founder of the feast's blog if you please - "bill cracker" is the moniker that I've assigned him.

I've been making claymation. The boobsy girl and the snail featured below are "production shots" from my last work. I'm considering publishing it to one of those internet animation servers, but first I must learn how to do such arcane and occult file transfers. Despite my fascination with the cultural ethnogrophy of the Robosapien, I remain an incurable dullard.

Anyway. I might be doing my master's thesis on Zombies. More to come...

Bullocks stuck to sideboard

Markre de Solness