Sunday, December 27, 2015
Sunday, December 20, 2015
Acid, Base...Shame
Another of my animations. This one deals with shame...my own shame, to be precise...but also that of others'
And how really useless, self-destructive, and dangerous it is.
And how really useless, self-destructive, and dangerous it is.
Thursday, December 17, 2015
Note to readers...and viewers
Wonder if I will do any more explosive-cargo writings as
opposed to videos. No idea. The videos just seem to be more interesting at the
moment. Though, truthfully, they don’t get much viewership.
Also, I am tempted to abandon the videos of myself. They
worked, sometimes, but at others they just seemed repetitive and boring. And my
technique is crude. As my son David put it, quite respectfully, “We need to
work on your lighting.” Meaning, at the moment, with the camera I’ve got and
the light and shade of things in my office, I look a bit like a cast member of
the Walking Dead. And we’re not talking the folks that are still alive.
So I’m focusing on the animation. I suppose that’s pretty
crude, too. I’m no cartoonist or professional animator. But, still, my little
moving pictures are a hell of a lot more interesting than moi…even if I were (to quote Bloom County)a great Robert Redfort-esque
male beauty.
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
Friday, December 11, 2015
Confession...and Demons
Hey, All,
I'm working with some graphics and animation software. See what you think of this.
I'm working with some graphics and animation software. See what you think of this.
Saturday, November 21, 2015
Sunday, October 04, 2015
Sunday, September 27, 2015
Sunday, September 20, 2015
Sunday, September 13, 2015
Sunday, September 06, 2015
To South Padre Island, and farewell to my parents
We've back from a trip to South Padre Island and Brownsville, TX, where we visited my son and daughter-in-law. It was a wonderful trip, but also sad, in that we spread the ashes of my parents on a beach they loved.
Monday, August 31, 2015
A little literary revenge
Like it says, a little literary revenge...
Maybe not warranted, but fun just the same.
createspace: https://www.createspace.com/5570742
kindle: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0110PFUJY
amazon paperback: http://www.amazon.com/Psionic-Beasts-Women-Must-Purple/dp/0692474765/
Maybe not warranted, but fun just the same.
createspace: https://www.createspace.com/5570742
kindle: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0110PFUJY
amazon paperback: http://www.amazon.com/Psionic-Beasts-Women-Must-Purple/dp/0692474765/
Monday, August 24, 2015
Fun in politics...not such a good idea
Just a little video meditation on why having fun in politics may not be such a good idea...
Sunday, August 16, 2015
Sunday, August 09, 2015
T.J. Tucker, a failed obiturary
My father's obituary ran on Friday, 7 August, 2015. I did this video about why I felt I failed him. At least as a writer.
Friday, August 07, 2015
33 years of marriage!
In honor of our anniversary! Thirty-three wonderful years.
Oh, and the book is here:
1) createspace: https://www.createspace.com/5570742
2) kindle: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0110PFUJY
3) amazon paperback: http://www.amazon.com/Psionic-Beasts-Women-Must-Purple/dp/0692474765/
Oh, and the book is here:
1) createspace: https://www.createspace.com/5570742
2) kindle: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0110PFUJY
3) amazon paperback: http://www.amazon.com/Psionic-Beasts-Women-Must-Purple/dp/0692474765/
Sunday, August 02, 2015
Sunday, July 05, 2015
Independence Day, or not
July 5, the day after Independence Day.
It was relatively calm night, here, last night. There were some fireworks in the park east of us, and not a few loud bangs. Oh, and the air was redolent with sulfur. If you didn't know better, you would have sworn you were in the third act of Faust.
But, surprisingly, it was limited. It didn't have that artillery barrage feeling that 4 July sometimes gets. And there were only a few sirens…meaning, I hope, that there were few injuries. Though, sadly, there are always some. And, in a dry climate like this one, there are always fires where the rockets or sparks fall to earth, in the grass or on the mesa, or on peoples' roofs.
Sometimes…well, many times…there are also deaths. Someone elects to hold a firework in his teeth. Or to throw a smoke bomb through the open window of a house or a passing car. Or, whatever. And someone dies.
Alas, one wonders how long we can continue to celebrate the fourth in the way that we do. I mean, with fireworks. We have already made fire crackers (the loud explosive sort) illegal and done our best to replace them with various, less dangerous alternatives—fire fountains, whistlers, smoke bombs, and so on. But, ultimately, you cannot escape the fact that we have a holiday that involves the ignition of low-level explosives by people who are not trained to handle pyrotechnics…and who are often under-aged and/or drunk at the time.
I wonder if, in the end, we will have to stop it entirely, the way that many communities now make trick-or-treating illegal on Halloween.
There is something very sad about that. Yet, sometimes, it seems that as a people we lack the discipline, self-control, and, well, simple wisdom to be trusted with these particular toys, with their unique capacity for injury. It seems that, maybe, we need keepers.
As I say, a thought terribly sad…
And, worse, perhaps metaphoric.
For so much that is going on, now, in our politics and our place in the world.
It was relatively calm night, here, last night. There were some fireworks in the park east of us, and not a few loud bangs. Oh, and the air was redolent with sulfur. If you didn't know better, you would have sworn you were in the third act of Faust.
But, surprisingly, it was limited. It didn't have that artillery barrage feeling that 4 July sometimes gets. And there were only a few sirens…meaning, I hope, that there were few injuries. Though, sadly, there are always some. And, in a dry climate like this one, there are always fires where the rockets or sparks fall to earth, in the grass or on the mesa, or on peoples' roofs.
Sometimes…well, many times…there are also deaths. Someone elects to hold a firework in his teeth. Or to throw a smoke bomb through the open window of a house or a passing car. Or, whatever. And someone dies.
Alas, one wonders how long we can continue to celebrate the fourth in the way that we do. I mean, with fireworks. We have already made fire crackers (the loud explosive sort) illegal and done our best to replace them with various, less dangerous alternatives—fire fountains, whistlers, smoke bombs, and so on. But, ultimately, you cannot escape the fact that we have a holiday that involves the ignition of low-level explosives by people who are not trained to handle pyrotechnics…and who are often under-aged and/or drunk at the time.
I wonder if, in the end, we will have to stop it entirely, the way that many communities now make trick-or-treating illegal on Halloween.
There is something very sad about that. Yet, sometimes, it seems that as a people we lack the discipline, self-control, and, well, simple wisdom to be trusted with these particular toys, with their unique capacity for injury. It seems that, maybe, we need keepers.
As I say, a thought terribly sad…
And, worse, perhaps metaphoric.
For so much that is going on, now, in our politics and our place in the world.