Friday, August 29, 2008

Adventures in Ink

A comic made the old fashion way, with pen and paper! Click to view larger image.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

looking thru the filter.....

looking out over a landscape of rooftops can be a bit unnerving. if you're surrounded by the younglings on a somewhat regular basis, or happen to be in touch with your outer child, you may hear whisperings of chim chim cheroo or the like. when was the last time you tiptoed across a geometric up and over? were you down and out? buh-duhm ching.....

all inuendos aside, i had this wonderful view a few months ago thru a skylight across the ajoining rooftop, thru the trees, fluffy clouds and all, and it stopped me for a moment. just a wee one, mind you. i was, after all, on the proverbial clock. the skylight in reference has been gifted with a remote control that opens and closes to the owner's delight (i know....i don't want to hear it. i just work here). so, of course, you would need a window screen to keep the outside out and the inside in.
and it is this screen that i peered thru as i longingly rested my tender visage upon those clouds and cursed the bandana covering my mouth, protecting my lungs from insulation particles and sawdust alike.

gazing thru the mesh grid that filtered my view of the sky and trees below, i began to ponder my place in the world. (at this point, if you are becoming bored, go ahead and go back to whatever you were doing before you came here. but remember, i didn't give did). as i was saying, i began to ponder my place in the world. not in some sappy esoteric "hey, are you there god, it's me _________," but more in a "fuck, why am i in some yuppies' attic looking at the sky behind glass thru a mesh screen?" sort of way.

and then i went back to work.

that's right. i didn't climb down the ladder and walk off into the woods. i didn't close my eyes and float off into the heavens to converse with ghandi and einstein and kermit the frog. i picked up my hammer and commenced with constructing the matrix (i don't care what you might say to your friends, it's a great analogy). i had gazed thru yet another filter at the great and mighty wonder that is the living world around me, and for all practical purposes, i was unaffected.

now, at this point you may be judging me a little. no, it's okay. admit it to yourself. i'm quite sure there are any number of thoughts tugging at your psyche right now. i don't know what they are, you tell me. it doesn't matter to this guy. you see, your filters are creating them.

that's right.....your filters. created and assembled by everything you've ever seen or done. and that's what this is really all least for me it is. you are born and brought to conception with nothing but.........................................................................................................................................
if even that (i don't remember). beginning in the womb itself, your filters are being assembled.

by the noises filtered thru a sac of amniotic fluid. by that first moment where you are no longer breathing viscous liquid, but oxygen. stale hospital air vs. redwood forest is just one of the first filters. by the time you can talk, you are no longer recognizable as a pure piece of awareness, but are an assemblage of gender, race, religion, and whatever other filters you have picked up/had placed on you up to that point. and it continues on and on until that little piece of awareness blinks out, or goes back out into the everything, or whatever the hell it is that happens when our human body ceases to function properly, and gives up the ghost.

now there's not supposed to be a whole lot of judgement here on my part. i'm just making an observation. and so what, right? i'm sure you've thought about this twice today already, and there's no point to it anyway, and aren't you fuckin' hip and all that.

and, well, yeah.....i am. hip as all hell. but don't take my word for it. go find your rose colored glasses, and sit on top of a skyscraper and stare at the people below you.........until you're bored enough to turn your gaze upwards and gaze at the sun until you find something worth looking for.

let me know what you find. i'd do it myself but i get a headache after a couple minutes.


Thursday, August 21, 2008

Wataru is going back to Japan

I met Wataru Nakamura at the california college of arts and crafts. we both had studios on campus in san francisco and everytime i went there to paint, he would be there painting as well. I have a feeling now that all the times i wasn't there, he was there painting. He is a surfer, sushi maker, and a most talented artist in all respects. Now he's going back home to Japan, and this shall be posted in his honor. You can see his paintings and drawings on his new website or if you come to my house you will find "cheeseburger" and "sleep through" in my collection. I am currently holding on to "my dome" which you can see on his site. That painting is potentially on sale to the highest bidder so, take a look and contact me if you are interested in owning an original painting by Wataru. His paintings wander into the ethereal possibilities of acrylic/oil based atmospheres, often times locating small figures in fantastic and vaporous realms. The colors and textures promote slight hallucinatory effects when viewed correctly. Overall, his paintings are heavyweight, hand crafted, thick and skilled pastures that turn weightless when passing from your hands to your eyes. The above painting is called "California Sushi Wave/should i stay or should I go". We'll miss you my friend. Travel Well ! ! ! !

Sunday, August 17, 2008

News Flash: The Olympics are for Douchebags

Hey everybody, it's your old pal Harry, and I've got a new bone to pick.

So I was walking by the newsstand today on the way to and I noticed a curious picture in the NY Times:

Fig. A: two dudes about to throw a kegger

I've never watched the Olympics before, so I think, "Holy shit, those guys are Olympic atheletes? They look like douchebag fratboys getting ready to pull out the old beerbong and go on a drunken joyride in their hummer with one guy sticking out of the sunroof while shouting lewd comments and thrusting his erection at random pedestrians!"

I don't give a shit about sports, but I always thought the Olympic athlete was supposed to maintain a more noble image than your average jock, sort of like this guy:

Fig B: the myth

Then I get home and do a little research, and I find out that the douche in the picture goes by the name of Michael Phelps. The media is currently fellating him and calling him an American Hero or some shit because he won eight gold medals, which is something nobody has ever done before, apparently.

Anyway, although we're supposed to believe this crap about how the Olympics represent some magical time when the human race comes together for a common cause (to compare penis size) like we're told in that stupid Visa ad with Morgan Freeman (Goddamn, is there any gig this guy won't do? I swear, no matter how many blockbuster roles he lands, he'll appear on the Honey-nut Cheerios box if they ask him to), the hype is bullshit. The Olympics are about as humanitarian as college football is academic. While the games might be a peaceful gathering, they're an expression of the same base impulses of rivalry and aggression that form the basis of all bloodshed and injustice in this world. But because these expressions are confined to a safe, controlled environment, it's supposed to be productive healthy competition and shit.


Fig. C: sports are a safe and harmless outlet for multicultural tension

Speaking of Edward Norton with a swastika tattoo, why do you think Hilter loved the Olympics so much?

But anyway, this article isn't about the Olympics being evil and racist or anything like that; it's about them being an extension of the same douchebag jock-worshiping ideology that makes high school a living hell. My point is that this ideology doesn't end with high school; the Olympics are proof that this exact same bullshit is ultimately waged on global scale.

Whether he is a gold medalist or captain of the high school football team, the athlete hones his physical form not simply for personal power, but as an agent of ideology. His perfect, Apollonian physique becomes the body of the state, just as Foucault reasoned that the broken body of corporeally punished criminal becomes the body of the enemy of the state ("Discipline and Punish"). No matter how physically powerful the athlete becomes as an individual, he always serves his ideology first, surrendering his volition to "The Man". This is why we often see the curious sight of a lumbering quarterback who could rip a phone book in half lowering his head like scorned child when his fat old coach who can barely chew gum without having a heart attack yells at him for dropping the ball.

All his life, the athlete has had the motions of his body dictated by what the coach says. If Coach says straighten those legs, he straightens those legs. If Coach says give him fifty, he gives him fifty. When these young men enter high school, the coach evolves into something of a pederastic mentor, instructing them in the ways of manhood. If there's a party happening that night, Coach will say something about drinking responsibly and then, with a wink and nudge, something about proper condom usage. Without Coach's tacit approval, these boys probably wouldn't even be able to get an erection: his word is more deeply ingrained in their physical being than the word of God Himself.

The athlete's body is not built for his own pleasure, but for the vicarious pleasure of others. He performs so that his physically inferior coach and obese, chili-dog gobbling spectators may share in the triumph. The idea is not to become the ideal independent body, but the ideal appendage. The athlete's destiny is to become the giant throbbing cock on America's flabby, diabetic body, a proxy phallice for The Man to fondle as his own.

Fig D: fondling and pride

-- H.A. Farber

Georgian Bigfoot Hoax Actually a Cover Up

Truth is a Lie
Above Average Paranormal and Supernatural News

Georgian Bigfoot Hoax Actually a Cover Up
By Pal Paxius

Right: Photograph of alleged Georgian Bigfoot.

It was a suspiciously slow news day in Palo Alto when two hacks from Atlanta made a stink about a poorly conceived Bigfoot yarn. Go to Matt Whitton and Rick Dyer's “Bigfoot Tracking Website” (, and you are accosted by Reggaeton music, a video playing, a flashing tree background, text in all caps and hideous web design. This site is offensive and abrasive on all fronts. It is clear that this is not the work of serious professionals. These men are compromising countless individual's research of merit, but is there something even more insidious going on?

The offending site.

A Testament to the Legitimacy of their claims.

Rick Dyer was a corrections officer and an army ranger, which means he has an L Chip installed, and he could be easily controlled by the Department of Homeland Security's Invisible branch. While Matt Whitton is an officer who is on leave from a gunshot wound. He most likely received his implant at the hospital following the gunshot.

This sham is definitely meant to divert our attention from a much juicer scandal.

I have a few theories-

  • DHSi captured the real Bigfoot, alive, probably deep within the caves of Mount St. Helen's. What better way to discredit a whistle blower than spread an unbelievable mockery of the truth?
  • The 8th Coming of Ra, the Egyptian Sun God, again in Silicon Valley. Although there hasn't been a good “Xth Coming of Ra” in a while.

  • Loose Alien Hypnotist. It could be that the government ties are a red herring.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

D.I.R.E. podcast

Songs Songs Songs

home made music from san mateo and around. dire friends.

Monday, August 11, 2008

Corpoculta - Short Film

(click video to get into YouTube and watch in High Quality)

Corpoculta is a student film produced by Adam Harms during his stint at the New York Film Academy in L.A. in 2001.

This was shot on 16mm Black and white film and edited on a West German Steinbeck.

The soundtrack is from the album Twelve(12) by the Midnight Dozen, soon to be re-released by Official Incorporated.

Friday, August 8, 2008

Fozzie's Camouflage

Hey there, True Believers! Can you spot everyone's favorite stand-up bear in this picture?

Who's hungry? Wocka wocka!


Thursday, August 7, 2008

Doomsday Device to be Activated for Purely Wank-related Purposes Later This Year

Hey there, folks! It's you're old friend, Harry Farber! Boy, have I got a scoop for you! As it turns out, the world could very well end in a month! That's right, I'm talking about a real bona-fide doomsday! I wish I was just making a dumb joke, but no, it's actually true. Just click on the image below and all will be explained.

Fig. A: click the techno-sphincter and learn the truth

Okay, so maybe the visual aid takes some liberties, but I can assure you that this thing is real. As Levar Burton always says, you don't have to take my word for it. Here's proof: Big-bang Machine Raises Doomsday Fears

From what I've read, it's obvious that these guys don't know what will happen once they start playing with dark matter and micro-black holes (otherwise they wouldn't spend five billion dollars to find out, would they?), and yet they insist on going ahead and pushing the button because they're just too damn curious. If this sounds more than a little familiar, there's a good reason: like many of the threats we face today, we were warned about this shit years ago by a very prophetic piece of science fiction...

Fig. B: we were warned about this shit

Well, it's been nice knowing all of you, but it looks like we won't get to see the end of this movie called life, and all because some asshole is more interested in taking apart the projector to see how it works rather than paying attention to what's on the screen.

-- H.A. Farber

iPod Song - Brand New Zenrootin song

The newest creation from exspiritualmental band Zenrootin is a Pop Love Song. This song is very beautiful and is sure to touch your heart.

Look out for the "iPod Song" single and the new Zenrootin album coming Fall 2008, released by Official Inc.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

Hedge - Video Game By Adam Harms

Explore and escape the amoral micro world of hedge! But beware, Hedge is not always as it may seem!

For Windows 95/00/XP/VISTA etc.


note: joysticks are no longer supported

Saturday, August 2, 2008

The Missing Box Radio Show - Ep. 20

The latest installment of the Missing Box on 9th Floor Radio about Zines is a must listen! Host Alese Osborn and special guest Melissa Neal (Ms.Catatonic) read snippets of Alese's and other's Zines, touching on topics such as:

- Living on a budget ( a real budget not a "$100 Coffee Table" budget)
- P.T.S.D.
- How to pee outside for girls
- Feeling comfortable walking alone at night (by acting crazy)
- Coping with Addiction and finding other stuff to do
-Sexual Abuse
- Big Miss Moviola
- Make your own Panties
- Lists of Lists

The Grand Croutons - Short Film

-Part One-

-Part Two-

Run time: 20 min

A movie about a restaurant feud between the "Yellow Jacket" Lounge, and the Maroon Lagoon. At the Maroon Lagoon, employees are slacking, foreign dignitaries are rampaging, and the food isn't quite ready. Meanwhile, a spy posing as the entertainment plans to poison a desert bound for a very rich, very powerful, and very strange customer. Will the Maroon Lagoon be in ruin?

This short film was produced by James De Loza and Adam Harms, with an original score by Jesse Elias. This surreal melodrama will have you laughing, confused, and never bored. Dive into restaurant politics in another dimension. A different sort of "Comedy of Manners"


Written and Directed - James De La Loza and Adam Harms
Original Score - Jesse Elias
Costumes - Ashley Rogers
Song Vocals - Danny Echevarria and Amirose Eisenbach
Lighting - Ian Paul
Production - James De La Loza and Adam Harms

(in order of appearance)

The Chef - James De La Loza
The Chef's Assistant - Ben Samuel
Wally Perkins - Brett Wiltshire
Dusty Sanders - Dusty Heaton
The Man of Bad Manners - Ian Pines
The Translator - Nathan Kosta
The Hungry Ghost - Adam Harms
Cherry - Ashley Rogers
Nappy - Nick Dickson
Barry the Manager - Dan Mack
Francis Squash - Adam Harms
The Drug Dealer - James De La Loza
The Drug Dealer's Apprentice- Sandra Markarian
Thomas Scheckellberger - Jesse Elias
Mom- Celia Harms
Kid- Adam Harms
Porno Guy- Jesse Elias
Stella Davenport- Monica Avellino