I made this comic as a guest strip for Chain Bear a little while ago, but thought I’d share it with you here. I know, it’s a little purile, but it made me giggle drawing it.

So, then, I’m going to use this post to show you what you are all up to at the moment… Think of it as me holding up a slightly cracked mirror…

Brandy is currently writing some cracking things here at parkerbetz.com, including some really neat horror haikus. Shes also taking part in PaBeShStMo… and if you want to know what that is, I suggest you head over there.

Aliens:

Sigourney’s mullet

“Get away from her, you bitch”

Bishop is the king.

Parkerbetz.com

OK, next is Roo…  He’s been up to all manner of things science-based and yest still has time to start a new webcomic, The Skies of Home. Go on, check it out.

Ben is becoming a friend of the birds…

Check out some more similarly fantastic photographs here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/brokentoyshop/

Ambroziac is… well, barking mad… and it’s a very good read: http://donaldambroziak.com/

TNP Press has added some more new comics to the roster. They are also going to be present at APE.

Erika Hammerschmidt is still creating Abby and Norma as well as creating some lovely pieces of art.

Sitting Pugs is very much traversing the divide between sports and films (and possibly sports films).

Franzy is being a smart-ass and is now caffeinated.

Mr Cousin created this rather obscure line:

The reason for the abandonment of 600 type film – let’s not forget after a single evening – is unknown.

And The Great Joe Bivins has been promoted to The Awesome Joe Bivins after finding music from his youth.

Haven’t you all been busy? Give yourself a pat on the back in the name of productivity. Well done.

I know I’ve probably missed a couple of you out here… it’s not intentional and doesn’t reflect in any way what I think of your work… rather I have run out of time… This, therefore is an open thread on what you’ve been up to and what you’ve been making and doing.

You may have noticed a slight lack of updates recently… or, to put it in non-bloggy terms, a lack of comics. That’s because I’ve become a student again and as such I’ve been a bit busy.

I have been making some art though, which I was planning on showing you, but after looking at it I’ve decided there is no way I can reveal it to the word.

Is it because it’s a secret?

No.

Is it because by showing you I risk causing you mental, even physical anguish?

No.

Is it because it’s a bit rubbish?

Yes.

My tutor sat down and took a look at all of my work, the comics, the animations and some other things I’ve put together, and decided that I really like working in small scale two-dimensional black and white ink-based images.

‘Follow me’, he said, as he headed down to the store room. When we got there I was handed a pack of coloured pastels and two huge pieces of very nice textured paper.

An experiment in colour and scale.

The experiment, as I have mentioned, failed. I created a pair of horrible contorted mutants in colour… and like all mutants created under experimental conditions, they have now been locked up in a basement, facing a wall and never to see the light of day again.

However, as a reflective exercise on the nature of creating art it was rather useful. I now know that I hate pastels and that my technical ability with them is terrible. I also remembered why I love ink so much, the fluidity that leads the drawing. Plus, and this is the biggest shocker for me, I found that I quite liked working with colour. It’s pretty.

I want to ask you about your experiences with art materials… what does it for you and what doesn’t… and have you ever found yourself creating a monster?

Oh, and the comics… We’re back on track… I’m thinking of going up to three a week again with the Sunday strips being 3-celled… I have a few in reserve too.

I held off making a comic this last week or so because I’m not in possession of my pens and paper. But as I’m still not able to get at them I thought I’d have to go digital this once…I’ll come back and draw this in ink when I get the chance.

Actually I think I’m suffering withdrawal symptoms from the pens. I guess those fumes are addictive after all.

I’ve just moved house again… my things are wrapped carefully in cardboard and stored in a room far, far away. I didn’t really plan this one very well. This has caused a few problems. Mostly, I’ve been living with a minimal tool set for the last couple of weeks – A toothbrush, toothpaste, a change of clothes and a mug.

Spreading butter on my toast was not a fun experience.

Very McGuyver.

So, as he would create some fantastic device from an elastic band, a straw and a paperclip, I’m going to pluck a question out of several badly formed paragraphs… What is the best device you’ve ever constructed… or the best use for something that it wasn’t built for?

I recently attended the christening of my nephew, the fantastic Stan…

These days it’s quite rare for me to be found in a house of God. His furniture is hard, his wine is weak and I’m not really a big fan of his music.

As a non-believer I always find being in church a little strange – like I’m being hypocritical or somehow devaluing the beliefs of the people around me.

However, christenings are different.

When you take away the religious setting and the mythical basis for the ritual, what you actually have is a group of people – family and friends – all coming together to make a promise to partake in the upbringing of a child. That’s pretty cool.

So, I’ve taken it upon myself to be responsible for a secular role in Stan’s life. To some of the people at the christening I may be ‘uncle Adam, the one who’s going to hell’, but to my nephew, I hope to be ‘uncle Adam, the one who’s still going to hell but is happy to ask questions about why that should be’.

EDIT: Due to requests, I’ve made this strip available as a print in a cafepress shop : http://www.cafepress.com/Flowfieldshop

Any profits from the sale of these prints will be put into an account for Stan that can be used at any time to fund the buying of scientific texts.

Tinned or canned food… it’s fascinating.

No, really, that was said without a hint of sarcasm.

It’s probably one of the greatest achievements of modern civilisation… Our great wonder. The thing that will probably remain in some form long after we are gone, alongside the mountains of plastic buried beneath the earth.

BC – Before Canning – food preservation was a pretty sad affair. Salting and smoking and drying. All reasonable enough for preserving food, but each changing the taste of the item preserved.

Admittedly, blasting a foodstuff with radiation or pasteurising it to within an inch of its integrity may alter the taste a little…but I think it does so in a good way… I like tinned food.

It’s an icon too. Warhol knew this… the uniformity of the modern vector for food is an ideal poster child for the industrialisation of art.

Remove a label from a can and what do you have? A mystery time capsule to be hurled into the future unknown.

And that’s what I have in my hand now. A naked can, containing godknowswhat. I can’t remember buying it and I certainly can’t remember what is in it… Perhaps I didn’t buy it, perhaps the previous tenant of this flat bought it and left it for me…

So what do I do, shall I open it to satisfy my own curiosity, do I keep it for a later date should I need it or do I put it back in the cupboard, and leave it there as I move out of this place (yes, I’m moving again) for the next occupant to wonder and ponder?

Last time we talked about The Flowfield Unity as a rescue home for slightly less than popular monsters… well, it hasn’t worked out and quite frankly I’m now overrun by them.

Normally, the sort of monsters I’m used to dealing with are uninvited insects and such, and my weapons of choice include whatever happens to be at hand. That’s why the last time I had to deal with a particularly large spider (I don’t like them and it was massive, honestly, massive) I could be seen looning around in my dressing gown carrying a broom handle and a can of deodorant.

Anyway, that’s the question… I’m overrun with monsters and I need to find ways to ‘neutralise’ them… what do you suggest?

Now mostly a gun will do the trick, but I want to look cool (as the do in those horror film things) whilst doing such a thing, so points will be awarded for style and irony.

There’s always a monster of the moment – whether it was the vastly popular zombie of last year or the re-emergent vampire of this… but all fail to compare to the omnipresent greater evil that is Cthulu.

Which is why I chose to make my next animation zombie-based:

OK, so my timing isn’t great, I’m at least a monster behind, but that’s no reason to worry. I recently received a great item of great evil through the post – A Cthulu tentacle scarf:

It’s made by the wonderful Rebecca from Creeplings (and thanks to Calan of Gingerdead for putting me in touch). I suggest that you check out the shop, it’s very good.

OK, back to the monsters. I nearly bought Pride and Prejudice with Zombies the other day. Then I had the idea that as one thing leads to another it wouldn’t be long before I ended up reading We The Undead by Ayn Rand… and no one wants that.

But I have been thinking that really zombies and vampires have dominated the media in terms of creepies in the last few years, decades even, and Cthulu has had a massive Internet following for a fair while too… perhaps it’s time we support an underdog. So my question is, which is the most neglected agent of darkness? Think of The Flowfield Unity as being like a donkey sanctuary, except for something that stalks in the night

Medication and animation,,,

Well, it’s been a long time coming, and I know some of you have been holding your breath (see, tangential link to the comic), but I’ve finally managed to get the first Flowfield Unity animation sorted.

Tada!

I think it’s pretty close to the original strip and it certainly looks like my drawings… I’m taking that as a good thing for now. They are what I’m calling ‘micromations’ – very short animations, less than a minute in length. They’re good for those of us with attention deficits.

I’ve also got several more waiting in the wings, made from a few of my favourite strips. I’m hoping to release them over the next few weeks.

Thank you to all of you that have already responded and rated the animation on youtube… you’ve been very kind, and as always, that sort of feedback goes a long way in encouraging me to make more of them.

If you have any favourite strips that you’d like to see  feel free to let me know and I’ll see what I can do.

In the meantime, breathe easy my geek brethren.

Nominative determinism… it sounds like a very hungry zombie to me.

I share the same level of fascination with it as the wonderful New Scientist, who have been running a list of such people for years, on and off.

There is the phlebotomist friend of mine who has the surname of Blood, or the vicar of the local church who is called… Tom McVicar.

Indeed, it used to be the other way around, that you were given a surname because of your profession… hence the proliferation of Smith (as in blacksmith)… or because of where you lived, Lancaster, for example.

I’m not sure what that would make my surname now… Adam Inkandstuff, probably. What about you?

As it stands, Gregory, is pretty apt. Apparently Greek in origin and means ‘Watcher’ or ‘Watchful’… how the Greeks new of my love of television I’ll never know (the guys in the basement are really behind schedule on the time machine…).

The thing I’m wondering about, and interested to know from you, is to what extent has your name determined your course in life? Did it influence where you sat at school and who you became friends with? Has it caused you to be mistaken for someone else? Do you have a name that is in any way related to your profession?

Oh, and as a side note, this is probably the first time I have mentioned John Carpenter here. I would have thought he might have cropped up before. So, which is his best and worst films, or woodwork projects?

If you’ve noticed that I’ve been quiet for the last week, then you might also like to know the reason for my silence was that I had the swine ‘flu.

Let’s catch up shall we?

I don’t know if the sarcasm comes across in the comic… I hope it does. The point I was trying to make, I guess, is that really, these new pandemics seem to be rather mild – partly due to vast improvements in medicine and understanding – yet we still treat these relatively minor outbreaks with all the same hysteria.

I’m better now… not that I was particularly devastated by it in the first place. It was a strange illness… the first time I have had a ‘flu with all the symptoms except for the streaming rivers of mucus.

This made the whole thing feel more like a hangover than anything else. Even so it didn’t stop me whining about it making ‘urgh’ noises whenever I had to move and generally moping around.

I went out one day in bright sunshine wearing my long coat. I was asked if I was hot in it to which I replied, ‘Yes… no… yes… no… …’. Temperature fluctuations eh?

Anyway enough of that.

I have other news too. I’m not the only Gregory making a bid for fame an fortune these days. My father recently made it onto the BBC news:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/lancashire/8141054.stm

That’s right, he’ll never be able to grace the bonnet (US: Hood) of a car again without some serious ‘nam style flashbacks. He’s OK by the way.

And then there’s the animation too – Using my sickness to some benefit, I’ve finally sat down to start animating some of the Flowfield Unity strips. I should mention that if you have any favourites you’d like to see in animated form, just let me know. I’m a little overwhelmed by the sheer number of them and so have been selecting in a rather arbitrary manner.

The big breakthrough came in finding someone to narrate the animations. I did consider doing it myself, but then I would have to listen to my own voice repeatedly as I worked on the drawings, and I already have quite enough of that.

So, that’s mostly what I’ve been up to, what about you?

ADDITIONAL (30/07/2009) – Upon re-reading this post (yes, I do read them from time to time) I realise that about 30% of my commas are missing.

Had I lost my powers of punctuation? Had someone stolen them?

Upon checking I’ve now found that my keyboard is a little bit broken – just that one key and not all of the time.  I was tempted to correct the missing punctuation, but figured that it made this strip a little more believable…

James Cameron may have been working on Avatar for over a decade, but even back when he started, the idea of exploring (and frequently destroying) strange new worlds with the use of controlled characters was not a new concept. Back in those days though, we just called them computer games.

So, and feel free to join in, here are a few of my favourite avatars from the ancient days…

1. Eddie Honda

Sure, he was a little tubby, and not exactly quick on his feet, but when I became Honda-san I was a pretty mean fighter. It seemed that for the greatest degree of success, all I had to do was mash one of the buttons on the gamepad repeatedly until my avatar performed the hundred hand slap move.

2. Rick Dangerous

I could have picked Sonic, or even Mario, for my platform related adventures, but for some reason Rick captured a special place in my heart. Perhaps it was because I could play with him on my ZX Spectrum +2, treading where the blue spiky one and the jumping Italian stereotype did not. Plus, those trippy colours probably were addictive on some level.

3. Bub (but not Bob)

One of the most important things you need to know about your avatar is that they are going to do what you want them to. There’s no point in having one if it is going to go wandering off of its own accord or start jumping randomly… Maybe I had a buggy version of Bubble Bobble, maybe my second joystick port was a bit dodgy… or maybe Bob was a poor excuse for a blue, bubble blowing dinosaur.

4. Link

As far as interfaces for controlling your avatar go, none will ever compare to the N64. I was in Hyrule! I was riding Epona! I was battling giant boss monsters! I was wandering around for hours trying to solve a puzzle because I’d missed an apparently obvious switch earlier in the dungeon.

Whether it is a zombie plague, alien invasion or the dawn of our robotic masters, it’s probably best that you learn at least one Morse code signal – SOS.

It doesn’t mean ’save our souls’…. nor does it mean ’survivors on shore’ or ’save our ship’.

For a start, the international distress signal, SOS, was first used by the Germans in 1905, and I doubt they had the foresight to create a distress call as an English acronym. There are no spaces between the ‘letters’ either… dot-dot-dot-dash-dash-dash-dot-dot-dot.

It doesn’t really stand for anything other than what it is – a distress call (or Notzeichen in German).

But that’s not to belittle it. It is the best distress call.

The greatness of SOS is partly due to the what it inherits from mose code. An almost binary method of communication that can, with a little effort, be easily read and created by humans in a number of ways – electrically, sonically and via sound and light… or eyelids.

It is the best distress call. Sort of…

I’m assuming that when it all kicks off (and science fiction doesn’t lie… it will kick off) everyone will use SOS, leading to a virtual static of distress. So how will I know when you, my international Internet friends, are in trouble? I propose an extra distress call, to be used in conjunction with SOS, so that we can identify each other.

Any ideas what it should be?

I once started to write a novel. The opening paragraph went something like this:

Two men stand urinating, shoulder to shoulder, in Euston Station’s public toilets. However, the next time they meet only one of them would be holding his penis.

I didn’t say it was a good novel.

But I’ve always been struck by the etiquette of public toilets. Civilisation, as much as it has advanced, is still tethered by the fact that we can’t escape our bodily constraints…

I’m not talking about cubicles (here’s a tip for you who prefer a fresher bowl – statistically the cleanest cubicle is the one nearest the entrance door), rather the urinals.

I think it’s safe to say that of the common types, perhaps the most bestial is the trough. The one where you get a constant flow of other peoples urine passing you by as you create your own.

Yet despite this, there are still strict social conventions to follow – When selecting a urinal, or a place at the trough, it’s the done thing to calculate the maximum distance from any other users… don’t just wander up next to someone else in mid flow when you could be stood at the other side of the room.

Similarly, conversation is frowned upon, as is looking anywhere other than directly ahead, at the wall in front of you.

And talking… not the place, much less so for laughing too, for fear that you will instill an embarrassing case of bashful bladder in your comrades.

Then there are the intricacies… you walk into the room and the only one left is the obligatory child-height urinal. Do you use that, or do you wait for a more reasonably positioned one to become free?

The anxiety of performing a faux pas.

Fortunately it’s not all stress. There are plenty of things to keep you amused. Sure, in some of the more impressive modern facilities they even have television screens placed conveniently over that bit of wall you used to have to stare at. But even in the more low-fi establishment you can find reading material in the form of graffiti (again, depending upon the sort of place you are, some of them read like a phone book of obscenity).

My favourite piece of writing is the usually placed at the bottom of cubicle doors, by the gap, that reads, ‘beware limbo dancers’. There are some better ones here, at The Writings on the Stall.

Failing that, the cleaners very generously place urinal cakes for you to aim at, to pass the time as you pass.

In days gone by these would have been accompanied by cigarette butts, giving enough pieces to create elaborate board games, similar to table hockey.

I guess I’m just a little disappointed that we haven’t really advanced, or found a better solution for dealing with this particular function. Surely the time is up and the writing is on the wall…

So you stole the DeLorean, travelled back in time and assassinated a celebrity…

You’re going to have to explain yourself. Who was it, when did you do it, and what good were you hoping to achieve by offing them?

Science fiction… 

Let’s call it speculative fiction.

I’ve been thinking about it since the Sci Fi Channel changed it’s name to shed the connotations of geekery– SyFy (That’s right, it only makes a difference when said aloud).

“The name Sci Fi has been associated with geeks and dysfunctional, antisocial boys in their basements with video games and stuff like that, as opposed to the general public and the female audience in particular”

Tim Brooks, TV historian

Yet it has been a great few years for science fiction, on television, in the cinema and in print media. That stereotypical view of geeky basement boys rolling dice and reading about aliens hasn’t been true for decades and still it persists in the mind of marketing departments… 

You know what I think? I think it’s a double bluff… Here, have a look at this list of the top 40 grossing films to date, notice how many of them feature aliens, alternate universes, genetic experiments or comic book characters?

Sci-fi is mainstream, and clearly has been for a while.

So, why do the marketing boys and girls make such a fuss about making it accessible to a greater demographic?

Without wanting to sound like I’m filled with some sort of X-files-ridden paranoia, I’m going to suggest that it’s because they know that, numerous as we are, fans of science fiction like to feel as if they belong to some exclusive club – That we enjoy the connotations of geekery and that when it comes down to it, we get off, a little, on that smug, warm feeling that we are a little superior.

I suppose what I’m trying to say is, that despite rumours to the contrary, we are not alone.

Perhaps we’ll never know what makes the contents of our craniums so attractive to zombies… the gooey centre? The sound of a cracking skull?

They seem happy enough to eat it, but for some reason they never fill in the feedback forms, and generally seem to dislike being interviewed or asked to partake in focus groups.

I think it could be that they don’t know any better, that no one has shown them the delights of pizza or chocolate. My reason being that if they really were only interested in brain, they would have found some way to catch whales.

The human brain is typically about 1500g, now compare that to a sperm whale, a creature that carries around 7800g. If brain is your thing (and I believe it is for those of you shuffling at the back there) the whale seems like a far better prospect.

What’s that? You can’t swim? OK, could I interest zombie sir in the elephant?

The Asian elephant packs a hefty 7500g  into its skull.

… or maybe it isn’t about pure size, but perhaps the ratio of brain to body mass. Humans have a surprisingly high ratio, about 2.1% of our body mass is brain. The whale fares less well with about 0.008%. 

But if that is the case then the true delicacy of the zombie world would be the common mouse with 3.2% of its body mass attributed to its brain.

I’ve never seen a zombie nomming on a mouse, perhaps we should point it out to them to save ourselves.

At least that’s how I made it through the day whilst working as a typesetter.  I even had my own theme tune, playing in my head whilst I toiled away at the type face.

Korobeiniki

Bad typesetting is everywhere, leaving in its wake widows and orphans. In many ways that job ruined a lot of books for me. The temptation to take out my green pen and circle the mistakes as I read through a paperback is almost too much.

It’s not just a case of convention either. Typesetting is like manners, that is once you know the way to do it you are at liberty to ignore certain things… you know which rules matter and which are flexible.

Good typesetting is rarely noticed. It’s function is to enable the reader to do just that, read, comfortably and unimpeded by the structure of the physical book.

Bad typesetting gets in the way, however. It makes you struggle to get to the information, it makes you flick pages back and forth to finish sentences. At its very worst it changes the meaning of the text… like a hyphen at the end of a line splitting the word ‘therapist’ in two… the-
rapist.

Some of my favourite books, in terms of their design and implementation, are the Penguin Classics series, particularly these three:

Design as Art – Bruno Munari

Ways of Seeing – John Berger

The Medium is the Massage – Marshall McLuhan

Not only are the covers beautiful, but the text inside is fantastic. There’s also some amazing typesetting gymnastics in McLuhan’s book by Quentin Fiore.

Holding these books, as objects as well as vectors for information, is a joy for me… and what I want to know is if any book does that for you. Feel free to name and shame some that really don’t too.

I’m technically homeless at the moment… and without constant internet access. And whilst this situation is soon to be resolved, I’m going to rely on you to keep me in touch with the world at large.

Your comments here get sent to my mobile phone… which, fortunately, even as a transient, I can carry in my bindle.

So, I want you to tell me what’s happening, what’s caught your eye in the news or general goings on.

Have you caught the ‘flu yet?

Are you, like Ben, celebrating a birthday this week?

Happy birthday Ben!

So then, what’s going on?

[Edit: I will also, due to slightly less than popular demand, be setting off on a twitterthon this week... again through my telephone mostly. I'm hoping to score one for every half hour I am awake and at least one for every five hours I'm asleep. You can follow me here: https://twitter.com/Adam_Y]

As the factual programming of Hollywood tells us, when it’s all kicking off, the apocalypse is coming, the building you are in is collapsing, your ship is sinking and the dead have risen, the only thing you should really be thinking about is getting it on with one of your co-survivors.

There are so many films out there where a love story has been shoe-horned in, much to the detriment of the storyline.

But I’ve been thinking, perhaps it’s true, that as a species, when faced with certain doom our instincts to breed are initiated. I know it happens in some simpler organisms… but then they can reproduce in a matter of hours, they don’t have a nine month gestation period followed by at least a decade of dependence… It’s hardly an immediate threat when you have time to do all of that.

Still, when faced with the end,is there anything more productive to do?

I was reading this article the other day and it cracked my somewhat cynical heart a little.

Whilst long distance relationships are not anything new, the internet, it seems, has become a facilitator of love… and that’s not a euphamism for the sheer volume of pornographic sites out there… apparently.

It seems too that this phenomenon is not just due to the numerous dating sites either, rather it is like any other venue where you may bump into a potential love. Work, a bar… Second Life…

So, what I want to ask, really, if it’s not too personal, is how many of you have found your significant other electronically? Do you know someone who has? 

…or are there any horror stories – meeting up only to find that blonde haired beauty called Michelle is actually an overweight builder named Steve?

Actually, why not take this a little further too… any unusual place or circumstance you’ve found love…

You all know Roo, right?

He made this comic…

Well, last year I got to meet him when he came over here to walk the infamous Offa’s Dyke trail.

Being a host and a representative of the UK in general I decided to treat my Trans-Atlantic friend (who had just travelled for hours on a flight) to a trip around the city of Manchester.

We wandered the art galleries, we strode the streets (an awful lot due to my terrible sense of direction) and we sought coffee…

Then the night came and the coffee turned into alcohol… a lot of it, because that’s what we do here.

I’ve never apologised to Roo for dragging him around after an epic journey, getting him superbly doused in drink and leaving him with only a few hours sleep before he had to embark on a trek through deepest darkest Wales.

I do feel a little guilty about the state in which I left him (the next day I went home to bed, knowing he was off for a train journey, a hike and then a night in a tent on a lonely hillside)… So, sorry Roo, I hope the hangover isn’t your only memory of a night out in Manchester, and when i turn up in your neck of the woods, please feel free to retaliate.

Magritte titled the piece below ‘The Treachery of Images’. He wasn’t wrong. 

Images will quite happily stab you in the back, they will slander and smear you to get ahead… what’s more you can’t even trust them with your children.

Images are treacherous things indeed.

Sometimes you get warning, like on the news where they tell you that they may be disturbing or when someone sends you a link containing the now ubiquitous acronym, NSFW…

Anyway, your mission, should you accept it, is to find a picture and slogan it to make it safe in the same way as I have done, by taking Magritte’s lead:

‘This is not an x’

If you fancy doing such a thing, don’t forget that GIMP is a free image editing tool, but failing that you can always link to the image with the phrase in the comments too.

I should start by stating this rather excellent idea for a strip was not my work… credit for that must go to Brandy, reporter extraordinaire  for the superb Moue Magazine.

The Secular Society has been making moves recently… they have suggested that the NHS shouldn’t be paying for in-house chaplains, and that the money would be better spent on actually treating people. They believe the church should be paying for that service.

I have no problem, however, with money being spent in this way… whatever makes you feel better and provides you with comfort is fine with me. 

I do like the idea of an atheist  minister stood on vigil by my deathbed, reassuring me that when I die I’m going absolutely nowhere. That comforts me.

There is a problem though… God doesn’t leave answering machine messages, that would be too easy, however there are people who do genuinely believe they hear messages from him. Some of these people are quite ill and are in mental health facilities. Schizophrenia and the like.

The problem I have here is that religious ministry is at odds with their treatment. Yet it still happens. On one side you have doctors and clinicians trying to help someone deal with some genuinely disturbing effects of mental illness, and on the other you have opportunistic recruiters telling people that God does speak to people, and that’s OK.

What we need is a test, a way to know whether someone does have a serious mental illness or if they are indeed having some sort of chat with God… I’ve been trying to come up with one, but I’m left waiting for divine inspiration.

I’m joking kids. Drink sensibly, have a designated keyboard operator.

Graphics tablets… I’m wondering if one will help me draw things quicker, but I know it won’t help me draw things better.

It certainly won’t make me a better artist…

What would?

Maybe it is… Maybe the Fritzl case is still too fresh, too recent… maybe the death of reality star Jade Goody is off-limits because she died today… maybe… maybe not.

My point is that there’s a reason why we joke about these things. Through humour we can talk about things that are too horrible to contemplate in any serious manner. And yes, it sometimes comes across as bad taste, but usually the people who see it as such haven’t really grasped the context and meaning of what is being said.

I’ve heard it called black comedy, mortuary humour or gallows humour… the idea that stressful events can be relieved and placed in context through laughing at them. It’s not insensitivity, it’s the opposite. It’s the need to talk about things we lack the emotional dexterity and the distance to discuss.

Besides, is it any more in bad taste to joke about something like this than it is to talk about it endlessly or read about it in print, revelling in all the gory details?