7 OCT 1929
Creative Disease your New Depression Superstore - featuring such bargain priced items as:
George W. Bush Commemorative Soup-line Bowls (complete with hole in bottom to funnel off soup for the rich)
Hypo-allergenic Silicone Replica Models of the Twin Towers ('cause that's what they used to shove 8 long years of fear up your ass)
Personally Autographed "Dead Eye Dick Cheney" Shotgun (for fighting off starving looters trying to ransack your garden patch)
Sarah Palin Blow Up Sex Doll (your wife's too exhausted from working 3 jobs to have sex and well, ya' gotta fuck something!)
FOX News Emblem Striped Pajamas (didn't you hear? They won the big re-education camp admin contract.)
Easy Read Adjustable Magnifying Glass (for helping to spot counterfeit toilet paper ration coupons)
The Complete CreDi Guide to the New Depression - which answers such pressing questions as:
"Now that the economy has collapsed is my Beanie Baby Doll collection worth anything?"
"Is cardboard edible?"
"Now that my mutual funds are worthless can I still compel the institutions to mail me the actual certificates so me and the fellas can burn them in our 55 gallon drum/heater?"
"I was physically removed from my foreclosed property and scraped my knee on the door jam. What are the first signs of infection?"
"How can I secure the rights to the New Depression and begin filming a reality TV series of it?"
All these questions and more answered just as soon as we get the power back on and manage to print out a few copies.
(our new favorite band is Maudlin of the Well)
5 OCT 2008
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he of the she
us of the it
they of the them
a veritable factory of the other |
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Love is where it finds itself |
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Disturbing photo #38 |
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.....................................Creative Disease - where creativity is guaranteed recession proof - our inspirations never in need of a bailout -
...................no foreclosures on imagination - invest your time with us and watch your enlightenments grow - serving the Tri-State area since 1998
4 OCT 2008
3 OCT 2008
SHE WINKED AT ME!!! - Not once but twice!! Sarah winked at me!
Somebody monitor the birthrate statistics. Our money is that there will be a noticable spike exactly 9 months from last night. It will become known as "The Wink That Launched a Million Babies".
All across America sex and wage deprived Joe Six Packs sat up to attention in their chairs. Their MILF porn barely evaporated from the computer screen in the den. Bored wives everywhere dreaming of beauty pagaents and running for public office felt a shiver down their backs.
"Why is my husband looking at me like that?"
"Why is this preternaturally appealing woman on the TV making me feel like I am woman? I am strong?"
By the time the two candidates exited their podiums and shook hands the bedroom lights were already out. |
"She's so beautiful. I know. Honey, let's name her Sarah."
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OCTOBER BLEEDS NOVEMBER DIES
This month the official CreDi site theme song is Of Montreal's Heimdalsgate Like A Promethean Curse
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Uh-oh.......this might not bode too well for the future: |
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Yes, even self-assured smart asses like us can get so wrapped up in our sardonica that we completely overlook some intriguing possibilities. One of our field operatives has reported that there's a swelling underground movement that claims to have discovered the beginnings of a secret code hidden in the deafening generalities and non-speak continuously uttered by Sarah Palin. Bible Code and Yahweh scholars are scrambling to catch up.
Could it be that upon the utterenace of a final ultimate nonsense phrase that the bowels of a trans-dimensional portal will tear open and a legion of bland/scary hockey moms from hell will descend upon us and imprison us in an never ending Sunday School of quasi-parochial platitudes?
So, we're going to go ahead and go a bit out on a limb and predict the end of the world during tonight's VP debate.
Drink up kids. Smoke 'em if ya got 'em
OCTOBER the MONTH of DREAMS
People say I'm too cynical.
Well how's this for an optimistic product - maybe worn with retro-ironic humour in the year 2012.
Here's to hoping she's the Dan Quayle
of the early 21st century. |
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30 SEPT 2008
Ok. Time to shed some more visitors.....
When the Rapture comes I'm going to look up her dress.
She used to be a Pentecostal. If she speaks at the United Nations I wonder if they have a translator there who can interpret if she starts speaking in tongues.
For those that think the above cartoon might be a "bit much" - keep in mind that this bitch shoots wolves from helicopters. Let's see....lemme run some figures through my calculator - yep. According to my calculations it takes an almost infinite number of Sarah Palins to equal the value of one wolf.
Why? Well, here's a handy chart!
......................................W O L F |
....................................S A R A H .P A L I N |
Rarely if ever attacks or harms humans
human toll: 0 |
If made Commander in Chief will initiate WWIII in order to fulfill Bible prophecy
human toll: millions |
Only has as many offspring as it's biological niche allows
human toll: 0 |
Breeds continuously and aims to force others to do so
human toll: overpopulation, depletion of resources, lowering of species IQ |
Doesn't kill other animals for sport
toll on Nature: positive |
Kills other animals purely for sport
toll on Nature: too fucking disgusting to calculate |
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More to come? |
29 SEPT 2008
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Yep. There's no mistaking who won the Cold War.
Not that bureaucratic state socialsm ever had a chance at winning over any Western populations but the plan all made sense - play up the threat of the Communist Menace for 2 solid reasons;
1. The arms race will make a lot of us good old boys filthy rich and
2. Exploit every shortcoming of the still-born abortion that was Soviet Socialism for the purpose of leaving NO DOUBT in any American's mind that socialism or any challenge to capitalism whatsoever is evil, stupid and just plain ungodly.
War won.
America sits proud with 1 percent of it's population living like fat drunken cows off the sweat and aspirations of the other 99%
But hey, that's the way it's supposed to be - only the best and brightest make it to the top of the heap. And if you're not the best and brightest don't fret, there's always the LOTTO.
But they're really NOT the best and brightest are they? They are the privileged and manipulative. Their daddies were rich and miraculously they are too.
These are not hard-working scientists in underfunded labs working to cure the world of it's ills. These are not philosophers or philanthropists. They are the mother fucking assholes that I encountered from time to time at university - cock sure of their right to rule the dung heap - unconcerend with content and obsessed with accumulation. Knowledge as a weapon and career ladder. The cigar and furcoat crowd. The money changers. They truly know the cost of everything and the value of nothing.
I always figured they'd continue to win - at least in my life time. In a way I'm glad to be able to watch this absurd feeding frenzy of late-empirialist capitalism unfold. What a show!
Who ever said history was dead? HA! |
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28 SEPT 2008
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This person gets around or maybe it's a far-reaching cult. I spotted a couple of these in Paris. This one is on a train tressle in Prague. |
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26 SEPT 2008
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I might like Prague more if I wasn't there - if you weren't there - if he and she and them and everyone else weren't there.
At what point does a place cease to be a place and instead become a reflection in the side of a fleet of tourist buses?
How cool can an almost-14 century looking street be when it's clogged with blue-hairs and EYEtalians and all manner of lumbering lookee-loos like myself.
What good is it to get a fleeting glance of an older, less tainted world when Prada and McDonalds are also shoved in your face with far less finesse than some 15th century architect ever could.
But even modernity has its mysteries like the lone African guys standing on various street corners obviosuly focused on hooking some horny or jonesing Westerner into a trick or a vice.
Thrice I saw people either hitting on questionable looking pipes or passing a marijuana cigarette openly on some sidewalk. Hmmmm.
Maybe vice will save us. Maybe the tourists will retreat in fear. The KFC will close and the blood of life will flow in the streets once again.
As for the somewhat attitudinal locals (is this Minneapolis??) - I can't blame you. I wouldn't want me there either.
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Let's all just stay home for a couple decades. Give not only the tourist-raped locales some time to rejuvenate and authenticate but also give some time to develop whatever boring little town we live in.
Planes are bad. Cars are bad. Let's all just stop looking for whatever we're looking for elsewhere and just make it where we are.
In, say 15 years, we'll all slowly start to travel again and check out how well each other has done.
Let the creative culture wars begin. |
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25 Sept 2008
Hello. UK command is back and semi-operational. Seems the Western World has been hedging closer to collapse whist we were in the hinterlands. Maybe we should have hedged our bets and just carried on into The Steppes and made nice with the peoples of the next Empire. Greetings Ivan Ivanovich.
"Go Home Soldiers" - yes, we can agree with that.
Tomb of the Unknown Pantless Soldier |
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Coming Soon: Why I Don't Like Prague.
Septemberish
Post Capitalism Holiday
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When exactly did farts and flatulence sneak their way into day time children's cartoon shows?
Not that we're worried about it. We enjoy a stupid fart joke as much as the next juvenile but when exactly were they given the green light to sound off on after-school cartoons?
There wasn't any farting on the Care Bears or GI Joe. Johnny Quest sure never shagged a rotten. Judy Jetson never broke wind. Used to be farts only happened in the room WHILE you were watching cartoons. Perhaps they were the last true human domain not yet simulacrasized.
In other words, we used to fart at the TV now the TV farts at us. |
Hey, anybody wanna debate laisser faire capitalism?
*GUFFAW!* |
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Did you go to University with some students who you just knew would end up in cigar-choked, self-important control rooms of financial manipulation?
You know, the ones who would gang up on you in Econ class and try to humiliate you by sheer force of empty ridicule if you dared mention a positive word about anything even remotely resembling Marxism or socialism?
Or maybe you had the audacity to simply point out that capitalism might have one of two down sides.
You know the guys. Well, they're looking for a new company to run into the ground, |
Just like no one in the media would dare have the audacity to ponder the fact that John McBain (typo nyet) was shot down while flying bombing runs during an illegal and immoral war.
And maybe that's a dirty little fact none of us should take any overt pride in or god forbid, use for political ends.
War is hell.
Especially when you shouldn't fucking be there to begin with. |
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Picture of some communist children single-handedly trying to initiate the "domino effect" of spreading communism. |
On a positive note let's ponder the nature of artistic rejection. I don't talk about it much here because I try hard to fool you all that I'm some kind of almost successful artist (are you kidding?? you ask). So it don't behoove me to moan too much about the never ending cycle of rejection. The cartoon world is the worst. High volume. Few publication opportunites. High rejection rate. You ever curse those shitty fucking comix in the paper? Don't blame us. I know there's hundreds more like me cranking out decently funny stuff but the funnel to get into print becomes as narrow as Sarah Palin's view on life. You'd be lucky to fit a boson through it.
But truth be told I don't deserve to whine anyhow. I don't submit enough material or market myself enough to complain about rejection. That's about to change though. I'm on a crusade for rejection. I hold a torch for it. Rejection is my Viagra.
It's really a very simple truth - no tries no rejections - no tries no complaints - no attempts no victories - no defeats no war stories.
But most importantly the mind must be adjusted to learn to adore the try - to eroticise the attempt - to consider every opportuity golden to annoy some shallow humoured editor.
And then maybe at the end of the day capitulate and admit that good ole Beetle Bailey just hasn't had enough time yet to enrage the Sarge. |
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A smart young man should take refuge in the sheer joy of the pursuit. Rejections be damned!
Just something to chuckle at over dinner.
Besides, those damn guys with the thick skins - uglier than you, not as talented - they always end up dating more girls.
Don''t hate the playah. Hate the grave.
Applaud the efforts of a loser. He might just welcome you nicely at the finish line |
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Rejections are medals, scars to brag about over a sherry.
Okay, maybe after 25 years the romantic scars of rejection will turn you into a hideous pathetic freak. Maybe that'll be the time to concede that maybe you never really had the goods to begin with.
Or, just do like I'm prepared to do and keep on convincing yourself the world simply isn't ready for you yet. |
Okay, will try to update with you again but Praha is calling and I feel like my dark-souled-vegan-vampire delusion needs refueling. The ancient, foggy streets of Prague beckon me like a wolf's cry. A-WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!
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