Video Nasty!
February 24th, 2009
FC:SB(!)3D#2
January 27th, 2009
It’s just gibberish, eh? Or machine code, something something. That title. Or is it compressed, purposive – come see!
(A short note about covers, because I had been rather smug about purchasing story covers – look, I’m not buying two covers, it’s ridic – but am now, after three consecutive Carlos Pacheco “this event does not occur in the comic” covers, and missing that ace Darkseid DC logo one on #4… I’m now sad and regretful about that choice. Laugh, if you will, damn you.)
Final Crisis: Superman Beyond(!) 3D #2 does not actually contain an exclamation in its listing, though I could swear there was one originally supposed to be there – like socialism, I’m sticking insistently with it in the face of all countervailing evidence. Hoo-hah!
When Panta Claus came to town
January 14th, 2009
The last glass of complimentary wine is in hand, the fine cheese is either gone or at the stage where it really should be binned, and the pine needles are just fading memories, occasionally sticking in the soles of my feet. So yes, you’re right, that Santa pun’s been hanging around for a while now and, not unlike a certain pair of skids I could mention, is getting a bit ripe. Still, got to be better than ‘Pantuary’, or ‘Happy New Rear’, you’ll agree.
The Beast’s best of 2008
December 16th, 2008
Ahh Christmas lists. Just what the world needs – my favourite shit from last year. Christmas is cancelled until this is out of the way.
I’m not going to piss around. Let’s get started…
Dirty, Dirty, Dirty – Howard Chaykin’s BLACK KISS
November 27th, 2008
Well now. Some honest to goodness porn. Or is it? Let’s see after the jump…
Dream Date Preview !!!!!!!
November 27th, 2008
Who would be your
DREAM DATE?
_
The book, Dream Date by Fraser Geesin and Tim Leopard will be out on the 9th of December from Running Water Press. To pre-order copies for the knock-down price of £3 (rrp £4.99), send an Email stating your name and how many copies you want to:
Dream Date Preview
November 20th, 2008
Who would be your
DREAM DATE?
The book, Dream Date by Fraser Geesin and Tim Leopard will be out on the 9th of December from Running Water Press. To pre-order copies for the knock-down price of £3 (rrp £4.99), send an Email stating your name and how many copies you want to:
Through the cracked paving stones: an *enjoyment* of Edward Gorey’s ‘Object Lesson’
November 15th, 2008
When I was about 11 years old my Father and Stepmother moved into an enormous Edwardian house in Surrey, owned by an eminent Buddhist scientist and a Thai Princess. The House had extensive grounds, being situated in a large wood complete with an old cottage that was now a private residence but would have been the servants lodgings a hundred odd years ago. My Father’s family rented one half – again, probably the servant’s half – of the main house, while the owners, complete with jet-setting, Lamborghini designing children, took the really posh bit. There always was, and is, something strange about moving through the main downstairs corridor that connects both family’s ‘homes’ – from the shabby, sepia tinted wallpaper that represented the world I lived in when I stayed there, and out into the clear, white, airy space inhabited by the other residents. There was a feeling of intruding, of being out of one’s depth. But as I got older and eventually got to know the entire place, I started to feel differently. In the end, the overriding feeling was simply that the way the other half tried to present itself was inherently dishonest. Not intentionally so, but nevertheless there was something anachronistic about the kind of aristocratic world that they, and the house, represented. Like a good deal of Edwardian stuff, it felt as though the house and its inhabitants somehow embodied the last, glorious, sad throws of a world that had only recently been devoured by social mobility, daytime telly and cultural relativism. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that, but there was something deeply melancholy about it – as though by peeling back the thick, red, draped curtains that weighed heavily on the bedroom windows, you could reach out, through, and touch that other world of bright sunny days, tennis on the lawn, and all that E M Forster crap. The place, even in the high rent bit, always felt faded, and like all proper mansions was cobwebby, the black wrought iron window-catches didn’t work properly, the grass in the orchard was often unkempt, and it was COLD. Wherever you went in the house, my abiding memory was that it was often bloody freezing. And it hasn’t changed much in that regard.
You have to kick the backdoor to open it – it’s bloody stiff!
![](https://mindlessones.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/09/500songs-1.jpg")
