Ramblings from the Desert

The man who trades freedom for security does not deserve nor will he ever receive either. ~Benjamin Franklin

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Location: New Mexico

Author of the urban fantasy novel, The Music of Chaos, and the paranormal romance, The Canvas Thief.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Desperately Seeking Funny

Trying to find "funny" and not getting much:

**Lee Goldberg found a LJ community devoted to Insane Clown Posse slash fiction. Translation: People writing homosexual fan fiction about members of a rock group who wear scary clown makeup. The concept is probably funnier than the execution, but then I didn't actually read any of said fiction.

**The Casual Friday proposes renaming hurricane Katrina to "That Fucker" with amusing results.

**Romance Novel covers are reliable fodder for funny. As BAM of It's Not Porn I Swear, says, "It's like shooting fish in a cup." Heck, it's like you're out hunting deer, and out comes Bambi, and he stomps up to you, rips the rifle from your hand and blows his little deer brains all over the forest. It's that easy.

Smart Bitches Who Love Trashy Novels also gets out the cover snark.

Of course I've made no secret for my loathing for computer-generated people on covers. Stiff, dead-eyed people who look they belong in "The Polar Express for Zombies" ("Polar Express," whatever, shitty movie, fugly animation). Like this one. WTF?

It turns out there are software packages that crank out this shit. (In the hands of someone with real talent, it might be possible to create something great; in the hands of a hack, oy veh.) Input some parameters and out pop plastocene-skinned people, all bendy and ready to pose in unnatural positions. There is so much wrong with covers like this--composition, balance, etc.--I could write a dissertation on the subject.

My theory. This garbage isn't done by real artist. Instead Ellora's Cave has a sweatshop in Indonesia. There, adorable children with big brown eyes are chained to a desk where they are forced to create the ugliest covers possible.

About 650 words yesterday. Stopped so I'd have some inertia left for today. On that note, off to do some writing.

P. Kirby


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