tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55910465424178583272024-02-18T23:12:41.422-08:00The Effigy Beast ProjectAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17908484994278841490noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591046542417858327.post-21572702353382968092015-07-28T11:42:00.000-07:002015-07-28T11:42:33.802-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
In the final days of the beast Effingee many things were revealed. It was as if a great murky cloud was removed from my eyes and I was left with blinding clarity. That clarity made me ashamed of who I had been and how I had hid.</div>
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Hands got busy in assembling him like a giant homunculus or golem of the old world. They decorated him with protective script and totems from many cultures and languages. They adorned him with trinkets and sigils to suggest a very modern and worldly power.<br />
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Elders again came and found meaning in his self-sacrifice. In this ritual they saw and commemorated their long dead but always close ones.<br />
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He bore the names of fallen sons and brothers and they were comforted by those amongst us with hearts heavy with kindness.<br />
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Great artists of the day bore witness and contemplated the signs and portents.<br />
Concocting new tales and myths no doubt for later days.<br />
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Soon the great beast was erected and ready for the long march to his final time here with mortal men.<br />
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He was prepared to carry a light burden to his resting place in the other world.<br />
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The essence of what he was born to do. Carry and bear what we ask ordinary men to but they can not.<br />
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Again and again he is met with love and kindness. Again hope returns to humanity when it slows to see wonders beyond their mundane walk through life.<br />
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Even a monster like Effingee can be a brother.<br />
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In the final reckoning the great lesson I have learned in this mad quest for this Effingee is that when mankind searches for god or devil, beast or angel to attribute the worst of the human condition to we will always find what we are looking for. When confronted by the reality of our complex nature and society we can not build straw men from the bodies of those living amongst us. The best among us will always answer our panic and dread with calm and compassion.</div>
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Professor Vexer </div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17908484994278841490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591046542417858327.post-25795874251971100822015-06-09T14:42:00.001-07:002015-06-10T05:24:32.075-07:00sightingsThis Effingee, this Beast seems to always be where trouble and discord abound. In my painstaking search I have found evidence of him everywhere, in our city yes, but abroad and even across the globe.<br />
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Take notice at his manifestation at the scene of our most troubled incidents of late.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKBoKdpdPKJzlknzCdrBJZdLOzxsE76z5lYugF6snDiAsflzRLCVv4wUwW-JQc66qEtCyrCfEJ0cZAGog-f_0YRZsDfG70lXf3iGERx5P-pgkFZjRXUs5EdrtLTSPaBHoJQesRjyhH6oc/s1600/beautynda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKBoKdpdPKJzlknzCdrBJZdLOzxsE76z5lYugF6snDiAsflzRLCVv4wUwW-JQc66qEtCyrCfEJ0cZAGog-f_0YRZsDfG70lXf3iGERx5P-pgkFZjRXUs5EdrtLTSPaBHoJQesRjyhH6oc/s1600/beautynda.jpg" /></a></div>
In the ruins of Ferguson Missouri...<br />
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In the streets with hooligans.<br />
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In the center of conflict.<br />
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Our officers of the peace in danger from his jaws!<br />
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Reveling in mayhem.<br />
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Right at home in this hellish night.<br />
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Once again emboldened by the crowd.<br />
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Evidence had him in Benghazi at that horrible time.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxDwrX2BrWnLiPCEI08CkiFVmvHZP9lzJHHT5E9iQ1UGHUXl5cuRHk7ZWkvlECiFVWf9-CIy03rSh60hyphenhyphenQxCtAeK4y5lfy59uZIqmztbNlZZj7Yj6aA2iOm5b2utkop4h1EvfGErofLeo/s1600/whthosblk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxDwrX2BrWnLiPCEI08CkiFVmvHZP9lzJHHT5E9iQ1UGHUXl5cuRHk7ZWkvlECiFVWf9-CIy03rSh60hyphenhyphenQxCtAeK4y5lfy59uZIqmztbNlZZj7Yj6aA2iOm5b2utkop4h1EvfGErofLeo/s1600/whthosblk.jpg" /></a></div>
Can you see him?! At the seat of our government?!<br />
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Someone saw him in Nigeria.<br />
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His time has come and he will be stopped! I swear it!!<br />
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No to set the trap and lay the bait.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17908484994278841490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591046542417858327.post-74973874792604449802015-06-03T18:28:00.000-07:002015-06-03T18:28:03.284-07:00Darkness falls <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"Darkness falls on the city and the Beast is there. If I don't capture the fiend he will be entrenched in the catacombs of the neighborhoods. They seem to admire him like a long lost brother. It disturbs me. Maybe there is no saving them.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3kIu5cnUA9yhyphenhyphenRj7lsdU5OUY8IyxQS4_SwhmV73suVy8B1mk0G381hP5-UIDxfEWnVUQPmPpBuupp3iAKcKzQs-nnj_WCp50k48p2mc-gIsNFHS_NGIe7AOMbjz4rI9T7uls0BBXTz5w/s1600/DSC08921.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3kIu5cnUA9yhyphenhyphenRj7lsdU5OUY8IyxQS4_SwhmV73suVy8B1mk0G381hP5-UIDxfEWnVUQPmPpBuupp3iAKcKzQs-nnj_WCp50k48p2mc-gIsNFHS_NGIe7AOMbjz4rI9T7uls0BBXTz5w/s320/DSC08921.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
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A few seem unimpressed by him. God bless the hardened true born Bostonian.</div>
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It appears she tries to kick him like a stray dog.<br />
Good for her!<br />
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Her mate in tow she walks on. He at least showed no kinship to the BEAST. There may be hope.</div>
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This man however... </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhshhTkmioL0ooYvwtn1Xpdxhxw4n1XwqhftgEdwRULQejYPHTrxZcDimqR3US0A-_ZUEI-evuL7fsX74zzBqHQdlmDI2bPqUwrhe9nm9_AiSxsGFwPAtS_y1GaDSeJiDzPBTfVVNYQRGQ/s1600/DSC08956.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhshhTkmioL0ooYvwtn1Xpdxhxw4n1XwqhftgEdwRULQejYPHTrxZcDimqR3US0A-_ZUEI-evuL7fsX74zzBqHQdlmDI2bPqUwrhe9nm9_AiSxsGFwPAtS_y1GaDSeJiDzPBTfVVNYQRGQ/s320/DSC08956.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
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Seemed almost enchanted and in love. He saw the Beast as a reflection of himself and said as much!</div>
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What poor self esteem!</div>
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Am I to believe that this brute can master the finer points of chess?! Really?!! This absurd fascination with this monstrosity needs to end! Who is this man sitting down with the devilish fiend to match wits? It must be like talking to an eggplant with legs.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Yoy4IYpVbPZ56X6lN8wVCI4fvDlsEgdZdtVk842BRajSBi_3sTkGj-vsQowfcKzbeKWZkY67J7Y6lMqR6Vqsu7oxEPtfRW7HhpFzIzbqcMg8rOZqGDFG22SJWJgFXtgcJuKiOrk2fMA/s1600/DSC08925.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Yoy4IYpVbPZ56X6lN8wVCI4fvDlsEgdZdtVk842BRajSBi_3sTkGj-vsQowfcKzbeKWZkY67J7Y6lMqR6Vqsu7oxEPtfRW7HhpFzIzbqcMg8rOZqGDFG22SJWJgFXtgcJuKiOrk2fMA/s320/DSC08925.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Again we see them tempting fate by bringing the children to see the wild creatures. Why are they not more afraid? What are they trying to look at more closely? How do they not see the danger before them?! HOW??!!</div>
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I must not only stop him, I must kill him. </div>
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I must not only kill him, I must pull him to pieces and show them his truth. </div>
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I must make him behave as the wild BEAST he is, this EFFINGEE."</div>
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6/4/2015</div>
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-Professor Vexer</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17908484994278841490noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591046542417858327.post-72375587714200926072015-06-01T12:50:00.001-07:002015-06-01T13:41:22.669-07:00"The BEAST called Effingee (the simple minded creature barely grasps language so he mangled the description "effigy" and took it as his name) has been a busy thing of late. He has been spotted in spurts all over the city and state. There are reports of his manifestation all across the country. He must have some arcane ability to bi-locate at the very least. He has been spotted in Missouri, in Florida, in New York. I rely on his predilection for the streets and neighborhoods of Boston for my pursuit.<br />
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Where he appears I scurry to find him. When I miss him by moments or seconds I collect data and artifacts from the scene. I warn the locals against embracing him and trusting him. One day they will be sorry they ignore the warnings. What can I do but warn them?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrVNyGYrUjj7LhgVb-43TzIZYdiGYc6NqphsyRrWMoadyxGhQMeNSdh7viBAmoAnKk4QmUIEm1I2F9N9XJvvUVpFVOLpi4zIvb8uhlw_bDgLrpWCq7OLksXbcKjqYMxEUVcwzDU3npTG0/s1600/CRW_4195.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrVNyGYrUjj7LhgVb-43TzIZYdiGYc6NqphsyRrWMoadyxGhQMeNSdh7viBAmoAnKk4QmUIEm1I2F9N9XJvvUVpFVOLpi4zIvb8uhlw_bDgLrpWCq7OLksXbcKjqYMxEUVcwzDU3npTG0/s320/CRW_4195.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWLQyWv1aak2JP5T-_i94Q1xWfDTTxwvY4HDVbLIMBcOMkBNY1GPoIYMYXVmfteAEdcEvEoJrIc_LZZ9N25c4lXgKz21_KZWkpRd-zLx5faisy6msR1QaUiSkyMreELjiq_3m2nuilm2U/s1600/CRW_4197.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWLQyWv1aak2JP5T-_i94Q1xWfDTTxwvY4HDVbLIMBcOMkBNY1GPoIYMYXVmfteAEdcEvEoJrIc_LZZ9N25c4lXgKz21_KZWkpRd-zLx5faisy6msR1QaUiSkyMreELjiq_3m2nuilm2U/s320/CRW_4197.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Here we see him in the Uphams Corner neighborhood cavorting with all manner of unsuspecting folk. It should be of no surprise that he first encounters an indigent youth (seen with a white head covering and glasses) who takes him to be a long lost friend. The young man, worn beyond his actual years through hard living and poor choices, offers the BEAST a smoke. He asked him for money. He paraded him along as if he were the handler of this giant thug. The BEAST Effingee haplessly sang songs and beatboxes with the sluggard as if old friends. This would seem his natural company.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY0bqi0etHdGQFubxR7gWZTcYWzcYr62ghD2AtVi5A1Z6K5ferNAAN18rV1I1Iq-iTSbtatG-dmNVXY27zmcD7lULUrg3zuQeK8f2w6rnav7dlCtTiasb3igMo1ukw1O1pv3jcMfdbVBw/s1600/IMG_6546.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY0bqi0etHdGQFubxR7gWZTcYWzcYr62ghD2AtVi5A1Z6K5ferNAAN18rV1I1Iq-iTSbtatG-dmNVXY27zmcD7lULUrg3zuQeK8f2w6rnav7dlCtTiasb3igMo1ukw1O1pv3jcMfdbVBw/s320/IMG_6546.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigG-1fBwOaMZ5TDtKVgnQL2AAHL1x-yZmZ09gFraJesu8hx9cegu5dP02TMFi7-6DM60M8z0zPHWSZuTt5ofx2_iWhgvWnVeb7FlASbA2i_3oRlwe7VLmV6jfoyEZkkgP70wMvq9UGlk8/s1600/IMG_6538.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigG-1fBwOaMZ5TDtKVgnQL2AAHL1x-yZmZ09gFraJesu8hx9cegu5dP02TMFi7-6DM60M8z0zPHWSZuTt5ofx2_iWhgvWnVeb7FlASbA2i_3oRlwe7VLmV6jfoyEZkkgP70wMvq9UGlk8/s320/IMG_6538.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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I fear most the little children who of no fault of their own approach the BEAST with open arms and true friendship. How close they are to sudden danger! How easily he could snatch them up and do who knows what!!! Playing patty-cake does not make him any less the threat.<br />
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He draws an unwitting crowd like a celebrity! I was just a step too slow this time.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfm0s1vDCr2c2N5uUIT6FUBTGtuE6zGgdplu_NkylSF80dk1lpaoBEYEx4_FQWvd57LUz0ga9bSc2RPT_tlpOL6bGTtyr7EwfWZsC4MRzaiqSjgMMPHvJCvxlbwEEJMSOrm7xIL8maG9U/s1600/CRW_4201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfm0s1vDCr2c2N5uUIT6FUBTGtuE6zGgdplu_NkylSF80dk1lpaoBEYEx4_FQWvd57LUz0ga9bSc2RPT_tlpOL6bGTtyr7EwfWZsC4MRzaiqSjgMMPHvJCvxlbwEEJMSOrm7xIL8maG9U/s320/CRW_4201.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is the best photograph available of the monster up close to date. Note the characteristics that distinguish his baser traits;<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjESOug-7TPttIBANDe_S00RVi8GDk6leL2SiYhI7lUImxvw2NNcrYL5oshEdFubOpyNNeSM0rLTbkFk5KNJXwkWYWYRz1bMXi4RrR7XlJEDmp91eSMZAtPn0cIOZVuTtWeiAVVKALFCqg/s1600/CRW_4187.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjESOug-7TPttIBANDe_S00RVi8GDk6leL2SiYhI7lUImxvw2NNcrYL5oshEdFubOpyNNeSM0rLTbkFk5KNJXwkWYWYRz1bMXi4RrR7XlJEDmp91eSMZAtPn0cIOZVuTtWeiAVVKALFCqg/s320/CRW_4187.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The small cranium- Evidence of a tiny brain incapable of complex human thought.<br />
The small wide-spread eyes- Evidence of limited but specialized predatory vision. Deeply set in his head to protect them from impact in struggle.<br />
The wide nose- Meant for inhaling and maximizing oxygen while pursuing prey or in combat.<br />
The wide lascivious mouth- Need I explain? Large fleshy lips for sucking moisture, ragged broken teeth for tearing flesh and bones and gristle, powerful jaws that could snap light poles in half.<br />
Sinewy muscles and not a scrap of body fat. He obviously comes from a place that tests its inhabitants at every turn. He is no doubt hardened to survive, and to breed.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5131-gYfA65pzJrz2vBEQHOMA2g9jr2jdsmjxZLdER0yMkbEVczs1Ccmejo5wbp6uKU-oHe9GYKPxcbA1uz987U0SesRFPQhx4wgfgE19-e57FMALuuDW7F-8hiJ16MjLWAPabt2DYfE/s1600/IMG_6550.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5131-gYfA65pzJrz2vBEQHOMA2g9jr2jdsmjxZLdER0yMkbEVczs1Ccmejo5wbp6uKU-oHe9GYKPxcbA1uz987U0SesRFPQhx4wgfgE19-e57FMALuuDW7F-8hiJ16MjLWAPabt2DYfE/s320/IMG_6550.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Here this unsuspecting soul, clearly out of her intoxicated mind flirts and cavorts with the BEAST unaware of what she might be stirring in him. No creature this raw and lean is immune to the immutable laws of the wild; kill, eat and mate.<br />
This woman is in clear danger and carries on as if this black thing is just some young stud. I must find him and contain him for the good of civilized society.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy9MDGwrgePdX-eSFV9uZht0CWz0iVHi-xae_J5xapNNNO72Y5KQ9-Hvja7a_8OX6TjbmCOhOUFYANkeGIVgoJp7rxLCnnPiafPFU5xqMYNBpxbHI7VCdjn3DK6wfWv9_-cDS1718lZuU/s1600/IMG_6545.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy9MDGwrgePdX-eSFV9uZht0CWz0iVHi-xae_J5xapNNNO72Y5KQ9-Hvja7a_8OX6TjbmCOhOUFYANkeGIVgoJp7rxLCnnPiafPFU5xqMYNBpxbHI7VCdjn3DK6wfWv9_-cDS1718lZuU/s320/IMG_6545.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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What should happen if he were to escape past the boundaries of the neighborhoods where these hardened folks from the rough places of the world; Carribean ghettos, African war zones, embattled places in Asia or Ireland or Poland? They see him and laugh and walk past him or play with him humoring him. Perhaps their trauma has dulled their fear.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi91UcLkJXcLqtRfBJceK8WKf2Co0LVWpOBnzn-75o8c7ERiOUt4yIicLP16aZaBALbNB5MGGL3lU_TQ_6x6RsgsVyVBnFuHHOWdYW_O11YrKV3_Ehk_hdYtlXnjINm2T1VW5-ZWS9vtYs/s1600/CRW_4202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi91UcLkJXcLqtRfBJceK8WKf2Co0LVWpOBnzn-75o8c7ERiOUt4yIicLP16aZaBALbNB5MGGL3lU_TQ_6x6RsgsVyVBnFuHHOWdYW_O11YrKV3_Ehk_hdYtlXnjINm2T1VW5-ZWS9vtYs/s320/CRW_4202.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Our city is fortunate he has not consumed half of it as yet. I must capture him before he ventures further."<br />
-6/1/2015<br />
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Professor Vexer.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17908484994278841490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591046542417858327.post-20854927786929989932015-05-30T16:40:00.001-07:002015-05-30T16:40:34.614-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN5TDsbBOfYT9hHgtZHeiGHBof5tnuasm65bosoQIHMHf6H2nSr1nLyWQLPeG-IcdSXbii18ZwscebkUxo0iBr79Vs50tQcPq9NmCfu9fZWv-5z9pbNNWQtLZNFxlZQdRel8fpWT00hI4/s1600/0strangetree.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN5TDsbBOfYT9hHgtZHeiGHBof5tnuasm65bosoQIHMHf6H2nSr1nLyWQLPeG-IcdSXbii18ZwscebkUxo0iBr79Vs50tQcPq9NmCfu9fZWv-5z9pbNNWQtLZNFxlZQdRel8fpWT00hI4/s320/0strangetree.jpeg" width="234" /></a></div>
My name is not important. But you will need to call me something. Call me professor Vexer. This is the story of the the cup overflowing. This is how it happened.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieADomCEj9CdKNP2BR2YzjREaZrqtisTdb86ZdlEpJ570QqAK2xVWT8OUY3T29mttv5Lb2ev_y_H6ER0WDgyNB3AWW3s0232gQykdapG1BieBvqDNEhleuUWPVKKm1ZTsCohlA-MH4Tzw/s1600/01strangetree.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieADomCEj9CdKNP2BR2YzjREaZrqtisTdb86ZdlEpJ570QqAK2xVWT8OUY3T29mttv5Lb2ev_y_H6ER0WDgyNB3AWW3s0232gQykdapG1BieBvqDNEhleuUWPVKKm1ZTsCohlA-MH4Tzw/s320/01strangetree.jpeg" width="231" /></a></div>
In the streets and neighborhoods of our city we see an increase of turmoil and tension. We see and feel rigid edges as bump against one another. It rises in intensity and frequency until we see absurdity as normality.<br />
So I calculated and conjured using science and old arts. After some time a thing like a storm broke and I felt, not saw, a swirling strange form like a tree or a wormhole or tornado, but of emotion and visceral feelings from this city so palpable that it rippled and tore through the city.<br />
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In the whirlwind I saw flashes in my instrument panels. Pieces of images as if watching a creator draft the pain and ugliness into a man like thing.<br />
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And all of a sudden the strange tree thing collapsed as a solid thing does.<br />
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And as it fell it rose again with a strange form inside animating it.<br />
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The tree tore itself and bore from its wound a thing that would walk a while amongst us...<br />
I had no fear over what I ushered in through the strange tree. What will be will be. This is what we need to move past.<br />
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He came through menacing but like an overgrown child.<br />
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He recognized me and seemed to ask for direction.<br />
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So we made a plan.<br />
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<br />The rest of the story you are living now.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17908484994278841490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591046542417858327.post-29880382120071720942015-05-29T07:31:00.001-07:002015-05-29T07:31:58.345-07:00The Arrival.HE IS LOOSED UPON US!<br />
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I went to see the cage that I built to snare him in and found it in shambles!<br />
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He is loose to walk among you unfettered and I don't rightly know where he is off to.<br />
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Making no excuses for his grave and brutish nature and disclaiming none of his proclivities for ghoulish behavior, I warn any who should encounter him that he is A BEAST! With no higher moral awareness than an infant.<br />
He may seem docile and slow but he is the essence of strength and endurance. He is fashioned to endure all of the hate and panic and disgust that our world can put out. He can not be harmed by any normal means.<br />
Walking the street he could overturn cars or sweep aside crowds of onlookers with a gesture.<br />
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I have only tried to harness him to understand him, to understand us.<br />
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Some will say that it was I who called him here with some superstitious summoning or some fringe science. I protest. He was always coming. Any small part I had in opening his pathway was played to serve mankind. I don't expect people to understand my intentions. They barely understand their own.<br />
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Now that he is here I will hold responsibility for stemming the chaos and corralling him as best I can until I find his weakness. When I have learned what I can I will send him back to where he emerged from in pieces.<br />
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When you see him run. Find a phone or device to contact me. DO NOT ENGAGE HIM.<br />
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This is video imagery from very lucky bystanders who survived seeing him.<br />
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Here we see him playing the docile imbecile...<br />
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All souls who would help capture this BEAST are welcome to join me.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17908484994278841490noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591046542417858327.post-58418843567219516552015-05-18T07:38:00.002-07:002015-05-18T07:38:16.089-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Here are some recent photos of the project as it comes alive and swallows me whole. As I become the giant Effingee I am aware of the weight and the burden that he represents. The awkward chemical smell, the restricted vision and tentative movement remind me that no living thing could exist as the fear mongers describe. This beast had to come to us from a world much stranger than our own. Now that he is with us in our world he can only be propelled forward by us, by me.</div>
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Like all good effigy figures he comes to me in pieces as if already drawn and quartered. My job is to assemble him and pilot him.</div>
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The Beasts Legs prototypes. </div>
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The feet are too tiny.</div>
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The head is frightening but the neck attachment needs work.<br />
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The Chest cavity is too flat and un imposing.<br />
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I'm building a cage/house for him.<br />
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The legs took practice getting into and walking. They still need work.<br />
I may have to scrap them and start all over.<br />
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I figured out a rigging system to hoist it up high enough to get into. I still need another person to get into it.<br />
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The scale is impressive even to me.<br />
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I tore out the original wire frame armature and built a more sturdy sub-structure.<br />
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The arms are gangly and hard to manage.<br />
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Seeing where I'm going is surprisingly easy.<br />
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Its so hard to get a sense of scale when I'm in it.<br />
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These kids saw it from inside their house and the whole family ran out to the porch to watch. They were right there when I took a fall. They came down to see it up close and to touch it. The little girl put her hand in the mouth! The fear abated really quickly.<br />
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In this micro appearance the emotional and artistic response was just as I suspected. People were freaked out and afraid, then couldn't look away, then had questions. I think it was still too ungainly and awkward to be terrifying, too obviously fake to be more than a symbol.<br />
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I haven't figured the response to children yet. I'm struggling with gown much to show and how much to tell. I don't want to relieve people of the responsibility to think. But I want them to start from my initial point of origin.<br />
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I'm thinking of using cardboard signs, charcoal in the finger tips to draw messages, video projection from the mouth, accomplices...Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17908484994278841490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591046542417858327.post-57795570956655160002015-03-15T14:44:00.003-07:002015-03-15T14:44:50.747-07:00<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">In the final throes of his fitful making this beast knits and binds the surface myths and metaphors over powerful bones and sinew of fear and truth.</span><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">As I usher him through the black portal of doubt and suspicion, enough of his form is there for onlookers to cobble together a faint fore-image of the beast's significance. I'm brought to silent sighs and mask my frustration with patient grins as they, the onlookers, try to name him and castigate him even as a vague idea. They seek to christen him and in so doing christianize me. They in their safety and distance from any blame try to define this lumbering manchild animated by fever dreams and drunken epithets.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I suppose in some way he is their child too. Their fear and discomfort feed the black world beyond our own as much as my fear feeds it. He is their beast too, whether they lay claim to him or not. He does not come by all his vexing contradictions lightly. I for one know I could not bear the heat of so much hate and pain that warm the lightless fires of the world he struggles to free himself from now.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">As I do the little I can do to bind him to this physical world it taxes me. He haunts my sleep and stalks through my brain like a large thing groping for an exit in the dark. I wake weary and ragged, beleaguered. Unrelenting, he tears at the gummy unseen fibers of the curtains between worlds desperate for the air of our own world that is so solid and firm, where we are so sure things either are or aren't. That will give him surety that he in fact is.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The bits of surety I use to bind his form together are of little significance or meaning. They hold no metaphor or quality of art. I chose them to render and tether him here because they are expeditious. In the end he will be no more permanent than you or I. He will be animated by our belief in his existence. He will persist and thrive as we collectively allow him. He will burn or rot or swing from a tree as we do if we wish him to, his form no more angelic once he is here than we are.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17908484994278841490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591046542417858327.post-74302029021894703902015-02-04T06:28:00.000-08:002015-02-04T06:28:15.033-08:00Contractions<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">"This whole world is feeling contractions. The fabric of our lives is stretching and pulling as the thing inside it breathes and reaches for it's only imagined freedom. The air is thinner and the atmosphere is yielding to tiny holes that let escape the moans and fits of this secret young.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">The world beyond tightens it's grip of sticky elastic tendrils and fights to keep its own. To keep its own safe from us. Our numbers and our facts, our logic and our reason would suck the ether from the lungs of such a thing. The tiny world we inhabit would topple to one side under the weight of this infant thing. Few living things would have the sense it takes to even perceive the thing the tendrils hold.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Though once we were enough for these wonders to walk among. Once we had not only sight but vision. Once we squinted less and saw with our whole being. We knew to breathe the ether back into its place in the world, to let it work it's wonders for other things that visit. We used to be generous and less afraid like that. We could sit around and warm ourselves and listen to tales from other tribes to make our stories make sense and fit with theirs. And we used to know how to let go of a thing when it's usefulness had gone and not before. We held no scorn for the old ways or things or people. We simply made way.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">So here now are the contractions coming again and I witness them alone save a murder of crows. The crows don't care, they only wait and watch for who lives and who dies and leaves them a meal. I care. My soft heart and sense of self preservation through collective well being forces me to love you enough to warn you. This beast is on its way. I've seen it's waking shadow come before it lurking in the alleys and now the physical world is shaking and convulsing before the labor.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Remember the old ways and practice your forgotten senses. You will need them when he arrives."</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> -from the journal of Jean Baptiste of Mattapan Ma.</span><br />
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Jean Baptiste has been journalling about this creature he swears he sees in the streets and shadows of the city. I have no idea how he can see it before it is made and born. This only reinforces the feeling that this is real and actual. I wonder how many others feel and catch glimpses of it.<br />
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Progress is coming along and he is directing his own creation- of course. Stay tuned for updates and sonograms.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17908484994278841490noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591046542417858327.post-1112326860800759502015-01-23T08:06:00.001-08:002015-01-23T08:06:41.217-08:00New directionSo here is the new wrinkle that the Beast, who wants to be called EffinGee, is moving in. He seems to be ready to come to us nude. He has decided to grow wings. I am entertaining offers to midwife him. I'm up for co- parenting too.<br />
He has chosen his skin and form, his purpose in life and his diction.<br />
He reminds me of a Makonde Effigy statue. I'm looking into other cultures that use them.<br />
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S'all I got right now.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17908484994278841490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591046542417858327.post-85750682944056434562015-01-17T14:00:00.001-08:002015-01-17T14:00:09.295-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Showing the prototype at my fellowship's January Meeting. Left and right are Photoshopped concept sketches.</div>
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It's about 10 feet tall. The vision is to wear this into the public and interact in character. I envision crewing a narrative based on his new and naive arrival, adaption to the environment and response of the citizenry to him. I anticipate confusion, distaste, acknowledgement and understanding, revulsion, and discourse.</div>
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Costuming him to adapt to different environments will be an added challenge. I'm thinking of using technology to enhance his metaphor; color sensors that trigger different sound art, lights etc.</div>
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I am depending on the response from the public to push the concept and mythology into an important level of discourse. </div>
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I am challenged by the level of craftsmanship that it takes to make it functional, aesthetically successful and sustainable through use and time.</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17908484994278841490noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5591046542417858327.post-36325918450370654062015-01-17T13:44:00.000-08:002015-01-17T13:44:17.179-08:00Sharing VexationsThe things in my head rattle around and bounce off of one another like reckless children. Brilliant and fitful. Glowing incandescent one moment and dying for attention then spinning themselves out or into one another like tots or like tops on a playground.<br />
Some of the things up here are fully baked ideas that have gathered moss from tumbling around for the better part of four decades. Many are stiffly steeped and marinated in artistic juices like summer sangria, loaded with all sorts of flavors and delicious poisons. Ideas are like liquor and food. Yeah, that sounds about right.<br />
Some of the things up in my dome piece are just reckless children because they are all id. Lil things nasty and wild with ego and defiance; just feelings really; animated with the same intelligence as a fly or a bee. Buzzing on one command, with one purpose they fly around in my head and keep playing in my minds periphery when I seem to be most close to peace. Those pesky ideas and thoughts keep crying to be added to the more Frankenstienian, more majestic monsters that combine into Golems and totems and Yaegers. They want in on the fight. They want to be part of the conversation if only as metaphors or side notes. The lil buggers want their bites and stings when I let the monsters loose.<br />
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We can't get to all our ideas. We can't hold and recall all of our dreams. We can scramble to journal them down or blog them or put them neatly into status updates but they won't all fit. Let's be real. They don't all deserve to see the light of day. Some of those thoughts and ideas and feelings are creepy little shits that need to be hidden safely behind our eyes. Trust me. You are better off without half of my ideas running the streets amongst your loved ones. Some of our notions are honestly half baked and need more time to be ready for others to consume. There is nothing more embarrassing for me than serving uncooked food. There was that night on the camping trip, with the drumsticks.... eeeeeew.<br />
What ever the case may be, in my head there are still lots of little monsters and creatures that are really quite lovely and funny. Picture ten year olds, charming as hell but a little bit off the rails. Some of these ideas and beginnings of art are exquisite and poignant from head to toe but missing one or two limbs or a set of teeth to make them good stories or art. Because they are always cooking up in my head (I mean ALWAYS!) there are scores and scores of them. That is why I sketch so much. It's not so much for practice, it's to let them out a bit and to let them breathe. I put them in books or on backs of agendas and discarded high school administrivia so they have enough form to warrant a rudimentary commitment. If I sketch them they have a fighting chance.<br />
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The ones that never make it out never really die or fade away. They collide and combine with others and breed hybrid monsters and hatchlings. Trouble making thoughts and feelings copulating upon maturity and realizing they are abandoned and neglected hoping to double their strength and force their way to paper or laptop that way. They occasionally give birth to tiny Titans imbued with the potency and complexity of both parent thoughts.<br />
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This is how the Effigy Beast was delivered. More accurately, he is the child of several parents, some of whom escaped to paper and others who brooded and bred internally. He is the child of a narrative that came together in 2004, an offshoot of a supporting strand that began as a question about society's need to be inclusive to most and exclusive some. About how every society needs an alien, an other to embody their fears and disgust. His other parents are you and I. You and your in laws or your work friends. The people you have conversations with about whether #BLACKLIVESMATTER or #ALLLIVESMATTER. He came from Darren Wilson and that Zimmerman clown. He came from 2Chains and Bobby Schmurda and Denzel Washington in "Training Day", from Terrance Howard's endless stream of stereotypical portrayals. He is the son of Kimbo Slice and the son of Barrack Hussein Obama.<br />
This beast is coming out of my head and into the world. Like all the things that crawl out of my anxiety ridden dream box he will come out not whole and complete, but in bits and pieces. First in conversation, then in notes and sketches, then in prototypes and dreams or bits of poetry and back story. Who is to say when we are truly fully born into the world? We also come in kicking and screaming trying to curl up and go back into some womb of sorts our whole life. The same can be said for my monsters. The Beast will be no different.<br />
I want to try to inform this ideation and process in a way that honors the beginning of the conception. A wise man told me once that my art does not belong to me, it belongs to the world. I like that. With that spirit I ask you to help me raise our baby boy. Follow the posts and comment. Ask questions. Tell me I'm full of shit. Hate hate hate if you are so inclined. All of that goes into making this type of monster. When you see him on the street engage with him. Bring others to sit with him for supper. Bring him on stage with you if he comes to your show. Most importantly, use him. Put your fears in him pour your animus and anima into him. Yell at him. Cry to him. Accuse him of all the dark things you want to attribute to some one but only dare do in joke or with sarcasm. All this will give him purpose. All this will give you cathartic release. Hopefully this folly will allow us all to talk about some real shit. We can let our monsters out to play together and see how silly they look in their childish ignorance. We grown ups can get to the work of making life better for one another.<br />
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With respect,<br />
BarringtonAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17908484994278841490noreply@blogger.com0