Desert Humvee

A desert Humvee that's seen some action. 

 

Illusion

Last night I stumbled across this song by VNV Nation, a band new to me. The passion and sincerity in the singer's voice immediately captured my attention, and I was riveted by the lyrics, which somehow perfectly capture how I feel about the loved ones in my life who face deep depression, sorrow, feelings of inadequacy or alienation, and other extreme challenges. In a few words, VNV Nation captures the feelings I wish I were brave enough to express to the people I care about:

I know it's hard to tell how mixed up you feel
Hoping what you need is behind every door
Each time you get hurt, I don't want you to change
Because everyone has hopes, you're human after all
The feeling sometimes, wishing you were someone else
Feeling as though you never belong
This feeling is not sadness, this feeling is not joy
I truly understand. Please, don't cry now 

Please don't go, I want you to stay
I'm begging you please, please don't leave here
I don't want you to hate; 
For all the hurt that you feel
The world is just illusion, trying to change you 

 

Water Cooler Talk

Here's a 28mm-scale water cooler, perfect for your 28mm-scale office chats about last night's episode of The Office. 

Oscorp Tanker

Here's how my tractor-trailer rig looks with its alternate attachment, an Oscorp tanker for liquids. Given Norman Osborn's villainous alter ego, those liquids are probably dangerous. 

Here's the other side. Note the WHIMIS placard at rear. 

 

It Might Be a Front-End Loader

I believe this is called a front-end loader. Maybe. Anyway, I painted it. 
 

A Superman-Coloured Garbage Truck

The tractor I painted a few days ago now has cargo: a garbage compactor. Painting it blue to imply the city prioritizes recycling over landfilling (is that a word?) seemed the proper thing to do. 

Here's a look at the business end. 

NOTE: I didn't realize I painted this in Superman's colours until I came up with the post title just now. 

 

A Pandemic Thought

 I do believe my hair hasn't been this long since, perhaps, junior high school. Sylvia seems to like this new unplanned hairstyle, but only when it accidentally falls perfectly into place. She suggests gel. I am leery. 

A Visit from the Legion of Super-Heroes

 Last night's dream: 

Sylvia and I are at the kitchen table, discussing taxes. Suddenly, several members of the Legion of Super-Heroes come in through the back door: Superboy, Mon-El, Shrinking Violet, Shadow Lass, and Colossal Boy. I'm shocked into awed silence while Sylvia reacts with annoyance: "Excuse me, you can't just walk in here without an invitation!" she says. 

"Sorry miss, we're on an urgent mission into the past!" Mon-El says. 

"Space pirates from my homeworld of Imsk have a plan to change history!" Shrinking Violet says. 

"They're somewhere in this area!" Shadow Lass says. 

Sylvia looks skeptical and doesn't appreciate the skintight nature of the girls' costumes. But before anyone else can say anything, a spaceship about two feet long zips in through the open back door, firing multicolored rays at the Legionnaires. 

"Kryptonite--I-I'm blacking out!" gasps Superboy as he's felled. 

"Lead--my only weakness!" cries Mon-El. 

"Stun rays--knocking us senseless!" wails Shadow Lass as she and Shrinking Violet fall. 

Only Colossal Boy managed to dodge the assault, and he grabs the spaceship in both hands. 

"This'll put the fear of God into 'em!" he shouts, ripping off the nose cone of the ship as if uncorking a wine bottle. Then, he holds the ship nose-down over our sink, and somewhere in the neighbourhood of twelve to fifteen three-inch-tall space pirates go down the drain, shouting and screaming. Tossing the empty ship aside, Colossal boy then turns on the garburator and the tap, grinding the pirates into bloody paste and washing away the gruesome remains. 

A weakened Superboy reacts with horror: "Colossal Boy--no! The Legion code against killing..." 

"...You've broken it!" Shrinking Violet concludes. "You'll be expelled from the Legion!" 

"Please get out of my house," Sylvia says. And I wake up laughing. 

Hauler

Here is a 28mm-scaled, uh...you know, I don't even know what you call these things. Some people say "big rigs," but that seems wrong. "Truck" is too generic. Anyway, it's a thing that pulls trailers. Or maybe not; you're supposed to put a garbage compactor or a tank for liquid cargo on the back. So "hauler" it is until someone corrects me in the comments. 

A lot of vehicles like this are painted red, so...I painted this one red. And that's my story. 

It Slumbers Not

Deep within the bowels of the foundry
The great living engine sleeps
Skin a crust of black coal
Innards glowing magma
Its senses alien but keen
It does not see, hear, smell, taste, feel us
But it knows us nonetheless
And it shrieks silent hate to the world above
And we all know deep down
Someday it will come for us

Armoured Pickup

I primed this resin pickup truck in black and then drybrushed it in metallic shades. But I think I should have stopped with silver instead of adding the bronze and copper. This vehicle will be revisited. 
 

On the Rooftop

Welcome to the Prancing Peacock

Here's the front counter of the Prancing Peacock Inn, part of a miniatures and terrain set I Kickstarted a while back. I think I may finally be getting the hang of dry brushing. 

Here's the view behind the counter. 

 

A Shriek in the Night

 It is just before midnight, and after long hours of restlessness I am finally drifting off to sleep. Suddenly, curled next to me, Sylvia shrieks, her scream reverberating through the moonlit night. Startled, I jerk back to wakefulness. 

"What's wrong?" I ask. 

"I was dreaming of peanut butter!" Sylvia answers, and instantly falls back into slumber. I am left to wonder what's so scary about peanut butter...

Sign of the Times

Welcome, reader. I see you've found a pair of the special glasses that open your eyes to the truth of the world. We are being programmed by forces malicious and cruel, and recognizing that truth is our first step to liberation. 

You may have surmised that I opened the candy after all. I realized that the wrapper would fit perfectly into this 28mm sign. This'll be a nice little pop culture touch in my modern 28mm-scale city. 

Six Million Dollar Mag

Many years ago, almost certainly in Leaf Rapids, I bought this issue of Charlton's The Six Million Dollar Man magazine. Published in black and white, the magazine included comic stories and photo essays. 

The story descriptions on the table of contents provide a decent preview of the writing style used for the scripts. It's a very strange style; dry, with sudden jolts of emphasis. The art inside is quite decent, although the male gaze was definitely heavily in play when it comes to the women characters. 

If I still had the cover, I might have considered keeping this. But I lost it so many years ago I honestly don't remember what the cover looked like. And so the one and only issue of this magazine I ever read slipped into the recycling yesterday as part of my merciless quest to create space. 

Consume Obey Reproduce

These sinister candies came in the mail today. Given the wrappers, it seems I must eat them . . . and yet I fear the consequences . . . 
 

Na Noo Na Noo

Last night I painted this cheerful visitor from another world. Not bad, if I do say so myself. 
 

Higher and Lower

A few days ago, Letterboxd introduced a new statistic for Patron-level members: films you've rated higher or lower than the average Letterboxd user. 

Above, you'll see the ten films I rated more highly than the site average. I rated some films highly because of perceived technical excellence, hence the high ratings for controversial films like Triumph of the Will and The Birth of a Nation. Others I rated highly for entertainment value, such as Enter the Ninja, Bad Taste, The Phantom, and Snakes on a Plane. The rest I rated highly because I thought they were good stories competently told. 

Here are the films I rated significantly lower than the site average. These ratings are, I fully admit, more subjective and less rational than my higher than average picks. Simply put, for one reason or another, these films rubbed me the wrong way. Here you'll see that I'm not a fan of Disney or Mel Brooks. I don't like films that are overly sentimental or mawkish (Beaches, Funny Girl, E.T.). I'm not a fan of jingoism (Top Gun) or white savior narratives (The Help). The Florida Project is a technical masterpiece and tells a very important story, but its opening scene made me grind my teeth and took me out of the rest of the film. 

Please consider that these ratings are all snapshots of my feelings at the time. Looking back, I'd probably rate Chariots of Fire, Absence of Malice, Snakes on a Plane, Them, Bad Taste, Enter the Ninja, and Black Belt Jones a star or half-star lower. On the other hand, I can't see changing any of my ratings in the "lower than average" tier. 

Reading Ruination

In January, I read five books. 

In February, I read five books. 

In March, I read five books. 

In April, I have read no books so far. 

This is much slower than my normal reading pace. I can't blame the pandemic, because I wound up reading slightly more books in 2020 than I did in 2019. 

Am I just getting old? Is this what cognitive decline feels like? I love reading as much as I ever have, but my focus is really impaired when I try to read for pleasure. 

Oddly enough, I find that I can read with the speed and focus I'm used to if I'm sitting in the car waiting for someone. A few days ago I read over half a novel that way in about 40 minutes. But I haven't touched it since. 

Maybe I just need a change in scenery or routine? 

Vaccinated, Part 1

Today Sylvia and I received our first of two doses of the Pfizer COVID-19 vaccine. We were told that it's a sixteen-week wait until the second dose, which seems like forever. But we already feel a bit safer. Not that we'll drop our guard! 
 

Nuke Buggy

Here's yet another dune buggy, but it represents a new personal milestone: this is the first time I've used a stencil and weathering pencils. The stencil, of course, was used to create the radioactivity symbol on the hood. I used some sand and rust weathering pencils to add, well, sand and rust to the vehicle. My models still don't look as realistic as I'd like, but I think they're getting a bit better, inch by inch. 

The driver's arms are raised up off the steering wheel not because he's panicking, but because I glued them at an angle too high to give him the ability to grip the wheel. So he'll probably play the role of "terrified passenger" more often than "driver." 

The Greatest Challenge Yet

 

Paint It Purple

Here's a 1930s-style car at 28mm scale. I experimented when painting this one, using different shades of purple in an effort to make the application seem more natural, with shades fading into each other without sharp dividing lines. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out; the very dark purple wheel covers fade into the lighter body which fades into the still lighter roof. 

You can see the effect a little more clearly from the rear. 

I'm not sure what to call this car. It feels like it should have a name. 

 

A Small Junk Barricade

Here we have another junk barricade intended for play with Fallout: Wasteland Warfare. I'm delighted by the stop sign, which turned out to be something of a happy accident. While dry-brushing the sign edges, I wound up using too much paint, resulting in silver-ish patches appearing on the sign's red background, making it look like the red paint has worn away to reveal the bare metal beneath. My hand-scrawled "STAY OUT" warning didn't turn out quite as well, thanks mostly to my terrible penmanship. 

Here's the back of the barricade. 

I probably added too many bunches of flowers. I was trying to make it look unmaintained; instead, it looks like someone is deliberately cultivating flowers. 

 

A Bale of Hay

Here we have a bale of hay. I painted this! And I think it looks reasonably decent. I think I'm finally starting to figure out how to apply ink washes reasonably effectively. Sometimes. 
 

It Was X Number of Years Ago Today

Here's my brother Sean some decades-odd years ago, tuckered out in the boat after an afternoon of fishing near Leaf Rapids, Manitoba. Note his yellow lifejacket--safety first! One of Sean's claims to fame is this: he was the seventh baby born in Leaf Rapids. 

Happy Birthday, Sean, and here's to many more. 

Lovebirds Noir

Friday Floor

 

Daily Bugle Newsstand

I'm not sure how to characterize my results here. I like the streaks on the windows, which are supposed to suggest reflections. I like the colour scheme in general. I like my hand-printed notes. And I think I've finally figured out how to manage white paint. Drybrushing was hit-and-miss; the bugle logo looks fine, but the wordmark is muddy. 3/5?