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Showing posts from February, 2021

Walter Brown Declines Surrender

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  https://misterscribbles.blogspot.com/2021/02/stud.html  

A Class Act

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Gunner Walter Ernest Brown, V.C., DCM Date of birth: 3 July 1885 Place of birth: New Norfolk, TAS Date of death: 28 February 1942 Place of death: Malaya Unit: 20th Battalion, 5th Brigade, 2nd Division Date of Action: 6 July 1918 Place of Action: Villers-Bretonneux, France Born in Tasmania on 3 July 1885 he spent his early years in New Norfolk. After leaving school he worked as a grocer in Hobart until moving to Sydney, enlisting with the AIF on 26 July 1915.  Brown left for Egypt in October 1915 joining the 1st Light Horse. In Egypt Brown made up a story that he has lost his false teeth so that he could be sent to Cairo, where he transferred to the 20th Battalion reinforcements. On 30 September 1916 Brown left for France where he spent a month serving with the 55th Battalion.  In September and October 1917, Brown served at Passchendale, for which he was awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal for aiding his fellow wounded soldiers under heavy fire, and after his serge

Dog Air

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Steve Davis  

Slam!

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The other drawing I made of Gulliver Foyle vainly signaling for help from the wreck of S. S. Nomad. https://misterscribbles.blogspot.com/2021/01/i-kill-you-deadly.html After my brother messed with it.

Pity This Idle Bunny Not

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 Billy was feeling reflective so he walked to the stoneyard and thought on Those That Came Before.  He is meditating on a favorite poem of his.  He is remembering it wrong, but he does have the gist of it, although his memory has changed the entire meaning. pity this busy monster, manunkind, not. Progress is a comfortable disease: your victim (death and life safely beyond) plays with the bigness of his littleness —- electrons deify one razorblade into a mountainrange; lenses extend unwish through curving wherewhen till unwish returns on its unself.                          A world of made is not a world of born —- pity poor flesh and trees, poor stars and stones, but never this fine specimen of hypermagical ultraomnipotence. We doctors know a hopeless case if —- listen: there's a hell of a good universe next door; let's go   pity this busy monster, manunkind    e.e. cummings, 1944  Like all the talking animals, Billy has never seen a man.  They died out long

The Mills Of God Grind Slow, But...

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The rabbit drew a salacious, impudent, provocative picture and posted it, laughing at his own cleverness.  2 hours later the kitten shredded it.  Laugh now, bunny!  

Juan Modesto

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 Juan Modesto.  Born Juan Guilloto León, he was a worker who became a corporal in the Spanish Army.  A communist, when the war broke out he became an officer and participated in most of the big battles.  While no great strategist, he was brave and he fought.  The Republic had few leaders of ability, primarily due to their habit of executing anyone who did not toe the Communist Party (Russian) line and Modesto was the best, plus he looked good in photos.  The Republic was addicted to announcing victories that had not occurred, and then sending soldiers to their deaths trying to achieve real victory.  It was a formula for defeat and the Russians knew it, Stalin wanted the Republic to lose so as not to jeopardize foreign investment.  For political reasons he had to send help to Spain, the only other country to do so was Mexico.  The United States had a strong Catholic lobby and well publicized (and true) accounts of murders of priests and nuns kept America neutral, despite popular sympath

Where Is That Damn Rabbit?

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Where is Billy?  Is he in a coffee shop or trying on clothes?  We have a shoot scheduled now and he's nowhere to be found.  I bet he's getting his nails done and gossiping with his friends again.  The last time this happened the cops brought him home in tears and told me that not everyone was a helpless little bunny, if I wanted to be a big man I could just step outside with them.  When I looked for Billy to ask him what was going on he had locked himself in his room with the stereo on full blast and I'm pretty sure he wasn't alone.  The next morning my car was sitting in the neighbor's flower bed and the same two cops were coming up the sidewalk to my front door.  Sometimes I think that I must have been Hitler or something in my last life and this is just the beginning.

The Inchcape Rock Part One

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No stir in the air, no stir in the sea, The Ship was still as she could be; Her sails from heaven received no motion, Her keel was steady in the ocean. Without either sign or sound of their shock, The waves flow’d over the Inchcape Rock; So little they rose, so little they fell, They did not move the Inchcape Bell. The worthy Abbot of Aberbrothok Had placed that bell on the Inchcape Rock; On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung, And over the waves its warning rung. When the Rock was hid by the surge’s swell, The Mariners heard the warning Bell; And then they knew the perilous Rock, And blest the Abbot of Aberbrothok. Robert Southey   

Another One Bites The Dust

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S. Clay Wilson died yesterday. His work was unconventional. I first ran across him in Zap Comics when I was 15. To say the least, this caught my attention. I liked the Checkered Demon. Checks was nobody to fuck with. He had a thing about bikers and pirates, dykes and perverts. Captain Pissgums had an unusual fetish.  Can you guess what it was? Different strokes and all that. Socially responsible. His art could be very intensive... ...primal... ...but above all action packed. Steve Clay Wilson, hero of the revolution.  July 25, 1941 -  February 7, 2021    So long.    

Come On, Steve!

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Come On, Steve! was a very popular strip written and drawn by Roland Davies.  His name was a tribute to famous racehorse jockey champion Steve Donoghue, the spectators would yell 'Come on, Steve'! and it became a nationally known expression.  Mr. Davies was a consummate professional artist, he was a pioneer of British animation when he made a cartoon of Steve the carthorse in his kitchen, eventually producing 6 of them.  The strip ran from 1932 to 1949.  Steve is anthropomorphic because he is of human level intelligence and he can read. Clay statuette of Steve, possibly a production prototype. I had to copy and paste this, I could not enlarge it. For decades this was the only example of the strip I saw. Oh, well, in The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe Mr. and Mrs. Beaver eat ham - “Now, Mr Beaver, just reach down that ham. And here’s a packet of tea, and there’s sugar, and some matches".  So a horse wanting a fur coat makes sense.  English sense. Collected rep