Whaam!

Whaam!
Whaam!

Malevolent fucker. Big blind bug. Relentless like an Alien. The MQ‑9 Reaper.

Already had one bite at this cherry about 6 years ago but the Cornish climate has had its evil way with it. Sadly landfill.

When Roy Lichtenstein painted his masterpiece comics were still wallowing in the visceral and vicarious pleasures of the Korean War ten years after it was over … priming the pump for the next one … Vietnam was just cranking up in 1963.
And now we’ve been at war, on and off, and still are, for thirty years (fuck! — the first Gulf War started in the summer of 1990) … terrorising and maiming and killing brown people, in their own homes, in other peoples’ countries … not that you’d know it from most of the art that people are making in the “west”.

The Four Horsemen are now based in Nevada and all their horses are grey.

Perhaps the words would be different now:

I PRESSED THE FIRE CONTROL
AND IN FRONT OF ME
MISSILES BLAZED
ACROSS THE SCREEN

AND THEN I LEFT
MY SHIFT WAS OVER
TO PICK THE KIDS UP
FROM SOCCER PRACTICE.

The Four Dogmen

The Four Dogmen of the Apocalypse
The Four Dogmen of the Apocalypse

Pain, Fear, Shame and Death … attended by a murder of corvid drones.

George Romero and Quentin Tarantino take on Albrecht Dürer.

Well, that was how it was.

Odds and Sods

The Dream
The Dream

Bits and bobs.

Henry Fuseli — sheesh, whatever next? Just add a splash of China Mieville.
Romantic Sturm … Gothic Drang?

Welcome to Afghanistan
Welcome to Afghanistan

At least with Poussin I know where I am … ambivalent I suppose. Still, well gothy mind.

The Swing
The Swing

But Jean-Honoré Fragonard? That is a step too far. Cannot abide the man or that horrid little painting. Abomination is too feeble a word.

It must be frustration at all this Neopolitan, dancing on the edge of a volcano decadence of post lockdown madness … just how stupid can people be … or as N corrects: just HOW stupid can people be.

Sigh.