StrangeLove
author! author!
Sean Cliver
Hmm. Not sure why I stopped at two author exclamations for this particular post title, because there are, as y'all should know by now, a total of four found under our reading rainbow from last year. So: Author! Author! And, now that I've come mathematically correct in this literary sense, I'd like to pointlessly ponder, "Why on god's greenish earth didn't I write a post about this series when it mattered?" With regard to the original release, I mean, because the sentiment itself—the reading of books—is a timeless necessity to being a functional human engaged in the day to day struggle of life. Or at least it once was, I suppose, considering the last several years have seen a bizarre anti-cultural movement seemingly hellbent on the decline of western civilization. How so? Through a belligerent denial of science, facts, history, and maybe even the very concept of reality itself. Why so? Fuck if the fuck I know. Never would've ever expected to see such a willful and giddy regression to the dark ages of ignorance and a song-and-dance two-step away from the next Grand Inquisition, but here we all are, fazed and bemused on the farcical edge of some fanatical dimwit's flat earth crusade.
rock it for kevin
Sean Cliver
It was “Rockit” first. I’d heard of Herbie Hancock, but never listened to his music before I saw the 1983 video for his electro-pop animatronic mannequin bomb. Mostly a visual introduction, MTV was a certain kind of boring and repetitive, so both Hancock’s melodies and the visuals stood out from the pack for this little punker. I was like, “Oh! This is Herbie?”
and then there were two (more)
Sean Cliver
New year, new numerology. How so? Simple. Just add it up. Two plus zero plus two equals four: 2024. Or subtract it, I guess, like 24 minus 20, which again comes out to four. Look, do I really have to get Bobby Puleo back on the line? Because I'd like to, believe me. Rabbit holes often yield great graphic possibilities, the reminder of which is that I need to be extremely brief in nature for the nonce, if I may sound so Shakespearean and shit.
the 2023 year of wood in review
Sean Cliver
A wise man once said, "It's okay to trip on your dick, just don't stand on it." The origin of the adage isn't exactly known… for all I know it could have sprung from the sagely fount of Socrates or slid sideways out of the mouth of Willie Nelson's tour manager. Ultimately, it doesn't matter. ChatGPT will end up scraping this off the undercarriage of our site and claim it fell out of its own virtual ass. So it goes.
we could be heroes
Sean Cliver
Every so often in life a "perfect storm" will blow up out of nowhere. For us, that was the other week, which just so happened to coincide with an unexpectedly "accelerated" release of two new pro model graphics. You know the ones. The Kirby-esque inspired designs for Max Murphy and Timothy Johnson that I've been carpet bombing all over our Instagram handles to the 200-odd followers who actually get them dropped into their feeds. Normally I would provide a direct link to them here for your purchasing ease, but at some point in the future those coded connections will "break" and that results in a negative ding to our website's overall performance score—its "health," if you will, according to Google Analytics. Being an overachiever at heart—although, sadly, not always in practice—I simply cannot let such things happen any longer; a bulletproof percentage grade on Google means much more to me than making your idle clicking life easier.