1914-1981. Struggling to understand Robert Aickman’s third-way psychological horror. Three used books on their way.
30+ Cornstarch Fireballs
1080p (vertical) shot of 1 teaspoon of cornstarch blown into the air near a flame source about 30x. Filmed at 120fps, playback at 30fps. As much fun as you’ll have doing this yourself, these pyro elements are released into the public domain for any and all usage, commercial or otherwise.
These elements were created for Troy Minkowsky’s “The Garden 1910” a Rhino Crate production currently in post.
To the extent possible under law, Matthew I. Rasmussen has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to 30+ Cornstarch Fireballs. This work is published from: United States.

Academic Art is a Guilty Pleasure
Academic Art: The Adult Contemporary of fine art.
Strip the striving out of Romanticism, the fear out of Symbolism, and this is what you get. Endless Joans of Arc, Opheliae, Venuses. Putti, cupids and angels. Nudes. Sentimentalism.
Note the awkward, static poses of Academic art. Any pretext for nudity. There’s a reason this movement fell out of favor. (But are Schiele‘s sneering portraits of his own corrupted harem any more pure as art for having their beauty removed?)
Note Bouguereau’s almost paternal use of the same models sometimes for decades: the same faces appearing on children, youths, mothers, lending his work a hint of something deeper than critic-pleasing cheesecake.
How hard do you come down on Orientalism? No matter how bubbled the glass, it remains a looking outward, a fascination with Otherness. Darkly will be glimpsed our dreams–sweet, cruel, lascivious, and all three–but we look only to be looked back upon. Gleyre’s Persian girl still fixes us in the gaze of an undeniable humanity.
Is there an opposite to Orientalism? Peasant fascination in Academic Art tends to represent only the dream of Arcadia, not any deeper social conscience. (But then there’s Makovsky’s gypsy.)
You know Arcadia. It’s there behind the bluetooth headphones Starbucks paperboard the stab of parking car headlights 69 megapascals of compressive force darkened glass bad music discount raincoat soap as an offensive perfume and cologne as an offensive weapon some girl life moving around you where are you going why have you been that person you should text her you should text her blue asshole lights in the rain darkness glistening like surgical instruments and the dream of Arcadia.
Imagine Peel’s juvenile shepherdess as a photograph leaked onto the internet. Is it any wonder that the soft simplicity of the dream still speaks to us?
























































































































50 Lies About Woodchucks
Or, What Happens When a Facebook Thread Gets Out of Control
- The woodchuck is unique among the animals in that it has 14 different gizzards.
- Every woodchuck has a 1963 Ford Fairlane on blocks out back.
- Counter to popular belief, Woodchuck Cider is not named after the well-known rodentia, but rather after the accident that left founder William Turkle incapable of making a beer worth a damn.
- Traditionally, a woodchuck is required to pump the bilge and prepare light snacks on all seagoing Inuit kayaks. This is the origin of Washington state’s motto.
- Al Gore stole the plans for the Internet from a woodchuck he was roommates with at Harvard.
- Woodchucks are the only animals who do their own taxes.
- After a woodchuck is mature, they are expected to give three years of their life to their King in military service with the hopes that one day, there will be an end to the Great Beaver War.
- No woodchuck has ever been convicted of serious fraud. All such trials have resulted in a hung jury.
- Chuck Norris was named after the respected and feared creature.
- Woodchucks live in the deepest corners of the Serengeti, and not the bottoms of the oceans as we once thought.
- Instagram is now 90% woodchucks.
- There’s a new drug plaguing our streets derived from woodchuck droppings that has similar addictive qualities to heroin and Sunny D. The depraved youth ensnared in its smelly grasp refer to the act of taking the drug as “chucking” or “doing the chuck”.
- Woodchucks are circumcised in utereo.
- Of course, in the ancient tongues, ‘woodchuck’ means ‘one who seeks vengence upon his enemies…’
- Woodchuck urine is used as a coagulating agent in chewing gum and hot dogs.
- No human has ever photographed a woodchuck in the wild. All such photographs are of cardboard cutouts. The photographs used to produce the cardboard cutouts are taken by marsupials.
- While many woodchucks died in the Polish uprising, the Tomb of the Unknown Woodchuck in Warsaw is believed to be the result of a spelling error.
- If you see a woodchuck in the wild, you should not approach it. It will “friend zone” you.
- At least two woodchucks are required to initiate critical mass in a sphere of U-238.
- Woodchucks are known for their sharp wit and unparalleled literary prose. They are actually behind great works, such as “Henry IV Part 2” and “The Little Engine That Could.”
- A woodchuck can metabolize wood cellulose into AIDS. But only the bad kind.
- The first woodchuck was discovered during the Crusades. The second during the roaring twenties
- In a rare artistic move, Michael Bay has cast only woodchucks in “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles”.
- The woodchuck is the only animal mentioned favorably in Leviticus.
- Spontaneous generation was disproven when a jar of spoiled meat was covered with cheesecloth and no woodchucks were present after several days
- In Japan, the woodchuck is known as “The Silent Fang Devious Fighter Monster”.
- The woodchuck cannot actually chuck wood.
- Being in possession of one or less woodchucks is only a civil offense in Massachusetts now.
- What is thought to be a plesiosaurus in Loch Ness is actually just a really fat woodchuck.
- During WWII, woodchucks were used as transport for ammunition and cigarettes for Allied forces.
- I did not have sexual relations with that woodchuck.
- A homeopathic remedy prepared by a woodchuck will in fact work.
- Before reaching terminal velocity, one should apply a salve of two parts woodchuck excretia, one part egg, and one part pine sap to exposed flesh to prevent chapping
- A murder of crows. A gaggle of geese. An overbooking of woodchucks.
- Don’t pour salt on a woodchuck.
- Modern woodchucks use lasers to accomplish in minutes what, only a few decades ago, would have taken months.
- The “sleep of the woodchuck” and “woodchuck’s bane” are fighting styles studied in the countrysides of France, England and Belgium.
- Woodchucks do not get cancer. They give it.
- That which does not kill you, makes you a woodchuck
- Not only can a woodchuck divide by zero, they will brag about it to anyone that will listen.
- It is a 19th Century misconception that people in Columbus’s time considered the woodchuck flat, or good at baseball.
- The woodchuck will build a time machine and then travel back in time to a point before the machine was turned on. They will then use their knowledge of the future to make life difficult for the beavers.
- Be careful not to confuse the major categories! Some woodchucks are doric, others are ionic, but all woodchucks are corinthian. This can be remembered with the mnemonic “SPECKLEFLAB.”
- Did you know I was raised by woodchucks? My mother, though a bit bitey, would lovingly send me off to school with a bag of homemade toothpicks for lunch. School was difficult though. Kids would pelt me with their cruel taunts like, “Want some wood chips, up chuck?” and “Hey, look at the naked kid who thinks he’s a woodchuck!” One day, my mother, after trying to gnaw my face off with care, said I’d have to go live amongst the humans and never know true woodland joy again. To this day, when see a stump carved by a chainsaw sculptor or smell the saw dust on a bar room floor, a tear comes to my eye. I miss you mom.
- The popular slogan, “Just give me a woodchuck and I’ll show you who’s cock of this motherfucker!” is attributed to American founding father Benjamin Franklin. He is known to have screamed it during an orgy with 14 aristocratic French women, and was probably high at the time. Steven Foster’s 1889 song has been recorded by such luminaries as Artie Shaw, Janis Joplin, and A-Ha.
- The classic film, “The Wizard of Oz”, originally had woodchucks instead of munchkins. The original Tin Woodsman had to bow out not because of an allergic reaction to metal paint, but rather violent facial and ass attacks by woodchucks.
- Everyone’s spirit animal is a woodchuck.
- Alan Ginsberg wrote an unpublished poem called “A Furry Fanfare Ferociously Fandangoing” describing the plight of the woodchuck in Man’s world. Ginsberg’s mistress was a woodchuck.
- Conceptually brilliant but uneven in execution, woodchucks are known as the Joel Hodgson of the animal kingdom.
- The famous woodchuck scene from “Bambi” is the longest orgy in any Disney movie.
Briefly Noted
The blog is back online. Older posts will return as soon as I find a way to rescue them from my broken copy of Blosxom…
Panorama: Sennebec Pond, November 2012
Union, ME.
Stitched together in Hugin from seven iPhone4 pictures. HDR off. Miller Cylindrical projection.
(I should be working on “Super Life.”)
Pioneering Scientists Poster
This poster is the result of a call for art for my best friend’s baby room. She had her first, a girl, the precise day in August after I dropped a framed copy of this off. The process started back in June, when I commissioned illustrator Kristin Palach to design and ink the characters. I loaded her down with a novella’s worth of notes, but Kristin was fantastic to work with, and her art is utterly squee-worthy. Colors and layout are my own.
YouTube Captioning: Hello! Project Egg Interviews
Dozens more captioned YouTube videos, including several complete feature films, at YouTubeCapper.Blogspot.com. Create your own embeddable captioned YouTube videos with the YouTube Captioning Thing Editor!
You need Flash player 8+ and JavaScript enabled to view this video.
Cute
Ranch House
I need suburbs. I need a ranch house. The suburbs I can build, but I need photographs. I need a ranch house in Boston.
There is one, according to a real estate website. Not far from me, maybe, as the crow flies.
Taking a neighbor friend’s camera stranded with me for over a week thanks to a pointless whateverthefuck with her roommate, I set off, round the lake and the roundabouts, and mount the hill. I’ve soon been walking for half an hour, and the light is slipping away.
This is where the wealthy, if not the superwealthy, live. You could forget you’re somewhere between the Arboretum and West Roxbury for a moment and believe you’re on a summer colony road on the coast of Maine. Gardens, hedges, slate, brick, and tiny golf green lawns. Sidewalks begin and end at random on the twisting hillside street. Clip off three feet of that decrepit mansion’s lawn to complete a sidewalk? He knows the mayor! If he’s still alive in there…
I’m not a student anymore. It’s been a long time. I’m moving discreetly along streets where people don’t walk to visit anyone, snapping pictures occasionally with a manual zoom lens. Should I say I work for a real-estate company if some gel-combed executive dad stomps out and demands to know what the samhill? Tell the truth, that I’m compositing bits and pieces of different photos into backdrops for a virtual film set? Say I’m on a public sidewalk and he can go fuck himself, more likely. You get more of yourself under yourself in your thirties, but you no longer have the endless blind confidence of a college student. It was a long time ago, and you thought the East Indies couldn’t be more than three weeks’ sail to the west. I must be supremely bored if I’m even wondering about this.
Farther than I expected, but there it is, marked by the real estate sign. A single-floor ranch. Brick. The wrong era. Built into a hillside, and almost entirely obscured by a hedge. Fuck it. Snap. Snap.
Up the hill. Dead end. That sounds good. A few more single level houses, also the wrong era. No era in particular, in fact, unless you call the ’80s trying to hide its shame an era.
“I was there, Gandalf. I was there, in the 1980s! I was there when the strength of men failed.”
Wend my way around. A different way off the hill. The light is going. Some interesting houses for later – once I’ve Photoshopped out the trees, hedges, power lines. Why must houses hide themselves away? A latchkey sprinkler erodes a mossy sloped lawn to mud. Old garage doors built into the hillside molder, automobile mausoleums waiting for the final burial of the car. It wasn’t the auto that built these suburbs and exurbs in the 1920s, but the light rail, and thermodynamics always win in the end.
That night. Transfer the pictures. Call the girl. Voicemail: I’d like to chat. Text: What’s up? Me: Help me run your roommate’s camera equipment back up? Her: Did you call her? Me: I want to talk to you, but figured we could do something useful as well. After a while: Will it help if I promise I’m not a vampire?
She comes downstairs, grabs an armful. She says she doesn’t have time to talk. Up the stairs. She doesn’t appear to be doing anything. Later in the week? I accept.
I’ll be shocked if she calls. She’s so much like me as a student, putting things off until they go away, avoiding life, covering for her shyness. So much like me now. But I’m sick of the whole thing. I’m sick of being a gentleman. I’m sick of identical “It’s not you, it’s me” speeches from women with nothing else in common.
Men. Women. The unfinished revolutions. The uncomfortable détentes. The ugly houses, zealously maintained.
“Marboxian” on YouTube
Speaking of film school, a new copy of my award-winning short “Marboxian” is now available on YouTube, in one piece and in crisp 480p resolution. Slightly smaller embed below.


