And memorials. Here’s my modest contribution to the current spate of “I’m This or That” posters, memorial days, public displays of…grief? and so on. My wee “Not charlie!” poster started an almost-trend on Ipernity of posters remembering those totally forgotten, unfashionable and not-worthy-of-notice(-let-alone-mention) victims, like the American Indians, the Uyghurs, etc -although not the Australian Aboriginals. I wonder why. Too recent? Too ongoing? So I did this one for a very nice Ipernity contact. Bon apetit, folks. NB. I don’t think I’ll be doing any more of this stuff because 1: the possibilities are too-too endless and 2: I have other fish to fry. Having said that, I may indulge myself and do one in memory of all the people who that much-loved mass murderer (and pimp), Winston Churchill, managed to obliterate during all his sad years in power. Hai! Hai!

Update 05/02.15 That other bloody MawkFest and awful concotion of middle-life Crapitalism is fast approaching and the “encouragement” to buy-buy-buy is relentless. So here’s the first of my antidotes to it. I’ve tagged it under Homages, Politics and, naturally, Love.

Update 08/02/15 Have a topical one of sorts. Ad hominem attack? Damned right!Who does the ghastly little man think he is, going places to tell folks what should or shouldn’t do? Or who they should bomb to smithereens or not, as the case is here. Pah!Mind you, this is a specific-but-not-exclusive ad hominem attack. If the spirit prods me again (and if I can be bothered…) I might do one for Obama; or Cameron. In fact, I could do one a day for a whole year and still not run out of targets. But I would not do one for the Farrago Thing; his wet dreams are probably too, too obscene for images. A Gorgon has standards, what!

Update 12/02/15 And here comes an antidote to all that Valentinic nonsense, folks. The story so far: Two defecting Lloigor have come together to share vino and tittle-tattle. One of them has just had a very scary meeting with the itinerant spectre of one Margaret “Maggots” Thatcher and is now recovering from the shock and commenting its harrowing experience with its mate. The chum’s last remark and final word is “Stupid old cow!” in Welsh. (Translation courtesy of my most learned compadrito, don Ricardo Hincks.) NB. This is my first collaboration ever. The creature I’ve used as a foundation for this illustration is a Lloigor figurine crafted by John Morey, ridureyu1 on Flickr. Here’s a link to the wee resinous chap itself. Do have a shufti at John’s page if you like your monsters tri-dimensional; some of them are absolutely to die for.  https://www.flickr.com/photos/74529773@N07/8592983461/in/set-72157632510311496      John provides some information about these much maligned creatures on that page but you know, for mucho pan nunca mal año, so here’s some more. The Lloigor are rather enigmatic non-material beings made of some kind of psychic energy or other but capable of manifesting themselves occasionally as massive dragon-like creatures.  The Cthulhu Mythos Encyclopaedia (Daniel Harms, Elder Sign Press) has this to say about the Lloigor, amongst many other things: The Lloigor are filled with a never-ending pessimism. Their minds are not divided into the id, ego and superego, as those of humans are. As a consequence of this, they are unlikely to put any of their plans into action.(Which is not only good news for us puny humans but also very wise in any case. Would that NATO should observe such exemplary behaviour!) Still, it should be realized that they may be dangerous foes to those who learn of their existence. My own experience of these beasties (limited to the defecting variety though it is) is that you buy them a few drinks and volunteer to listen to their bitching about Azathoth till they turn purple in the face and you’ve got  friends for life. NB2. The reason this lot here speak Welsh is because Wales happens to be one of the traditional centres of Lloigor activity. Having said that, these two have long absconded from their original tribe and only hang around Wales because they happen to love the place. And who wouldn’t?

Update 15/02/15 Depressed about the latest political shenanigans in Ukraine? Deeply despairing of things EVER getting even a micron better? Bored to tears with ObamaBabble? Scared stiff that some multinational is going to start fracking in your back garden? Not to worry. Ask Ibliss, the Massive Shoggoth and his associates to take you on a Free-Floating Experience weekend break. Free, painless and very good for your complexion. And far, far healthier than FaceFuckingBook! Look how happy the Discarded Teddy looks. You, too can feel the bliss of detaching yourself from gross matter and your vile body. Bookings now open.

Update 17/02/15 To end on a cheerful note… (Peripherals by the Gorgon. Sitting skeleton pic found in Flickr’s Powerhouse Museum Collections. Acquisition credit line: Gift of the Estate of Raymond W Phillips, 2008 Thanks Raymond!)

Which has begun with a couple of small massacres. But…because they were perpetrated on “us”, the Good Guys, the outcry and the outrage and the outpouring of crocodile tears and herd sentimentality has been overwhelming (not to say nauseating). Mmmm. Does anybody remember, ANYBODY at all, in our wonderful “free, balanced and impartial” western meedja, or on our “must have” “social” networks, shedding a single tear, raising a single solitary dissenting or complaining voice when last May nearly 100 people were criminally incinerated in Odessa? No, of course not. So, here’s my version of free speech. Take or smoke it, it’s all the same to me. By the way, this vexed question of free speech… The way it’s handled in these our thoroughly indoctrinated cultures reminds me of something that Henry Ford was supposed to have said regarding his cars: You can have any colour you like as long as it’s black. Thus “free speech” chez nous. You can say anything you like as long as it’s the correct, appropriate, sanctioned thing. What nice times we live in… The second is a little bit of pre-election blues. Mrs Worm is having all sort of interesting encounters on her way to or from the forest market, these days. Lucky her. Update 17/01/15 The back has been playing up like it’s going out of fashion but it hasn’t really stopped the flow. Zo zorry… Only slowed production a bit. Here be the latest. The nearing-extinction Dinos is for me, because that’s how I feel more often than not. I refer not so much to physical extinction, naturally, but to the fact that a generation or two may possibly see the disappearance of any form of dissent but the most sanctioned kind. The one that is safe to “express” and “share” and “liiiiike”on FaceFuckinghBook and Twatter. Oy vey… The second is a small but passionate tribute to all those wonderful Big Mouths all over the world that have caused/cause/will cause embarrassment (not to say irritation) to the psychotic cleptocracies wot rule the world. Chapeau, les enfants! The last is little Jimmy Two-Tails’ contribution to the impending election. Ma foi! if I could, I’d vote for him, I swear. Mind you, given the current “choices”, I’d vote for a fucking tadpole. Or the Shub-Niggurath. She’d like that. On a happier note: the reaction to the Not Charlie! poster was quite unexpectedly mostly positive on Ipernity, look you! Apart from a feeble attempt at censoriousness (oh, how can you?!? etc), the damned thing opened a small can of closet worms of its own, started a lively discussion (blimey! never had so many comments on a single page of mine…) and out of the woodwork slithered all sort of supportive comments, nods, nudges, winks and say-no-mores. Even on the more “sedate” (like in Vallium?) Flickr it attracted a few brownie points. Sorry gold stars. See, life does NOT always stink, ye Gorgs of little faith. Update 30/01/15 To end on a nice agit-prop note, here be a modest p’litical poster to celebrate Greece’s swing to the…I hesitate to call it Left. Still, as I never tire of saying, a girl must dream.