Arts Champion!

This is my latest creation. He is called the Arts Champion, and he goes around Birmingham unlocking Brummies' creative powers at bus stops. In my experience, most Brummies' creativeness at bus stops extends as far as writing 'VILLA KILL BCFC' or 'SHAZZA IS A SLUT' on the window in permanent marker, but never mind.

The Arts Department of Birmingham City Council seem to like it, anyway. I've just got to letter it properly and get registered as self-employed at the tax office and I'll be rich beyond my wildest dreams!!!

I'm trying to be hyperbolic again.

Hiatus.

Hi there! I know you are all waiting for my next scintillating post about which music I hate, or Aston Villa, or some other bollocks which has pissed me off this week, but no! I'm far too busy working on my commission for Birmingham City Council, so I'll have to leave you all disappointed. To keep you all entertained until my next fantastically witty post, I've devised these (really easy) picture puzzles, all based on comics catchphrases. A Marvel no-prize for the first correct reply...



Back soon.

P.S. It's alright if you think my posts are less than scintillating. I was trying to be hyperbolic.

Colour Me In, Badd.

Here in Birmingham we have an event called ArtsFest. In their infinite wisdom, Birmingham City Council have chosen me to do the art for their 'Arts Champion' leaflet. I spoke to a very nice young lady today who said lots of nice things about my artwork, and I've got the gig! The leaflet will be a black and white superhero comic strip and one of the panels will be blank so kiddies can design a superhero's vehicle and colour the strip in as part of a competition. So if you're in Brum between 8-10 September, pick up an ArtsFest flyer! Colour it in! I won't!

The magic number.

Generally, I try to avoid memes. I think they exist to help waste time already at a premium. I like reading other people's answers, but I don't really like exposing too much of myself to strangers. Just the genitals, in parks.
I've been forced by the lissome lycanthrope loather Jemima Von Schindelberg to take part in this music meme. It involves naming five of your favourite songs that belong with a certain letter of the alphabet. Jemima shot her silver bullet at me and tagged me to name five songs that begin with any of the numbers 0-9. I don't remember numbers being in the alphabet before, but it's the future now, and there are people called John 5, C-3PO and Rocky Four mooching about. I was going to try being clever and use songs beginning with 'Pi', as that is a number between 0-9, but I couldn't think of any, much less any I like.
That's the general problem with this tag. Nearly all of the songs I could think of that begin with a number, I absolutely hate with a passion. No shock there, I generally hate everything I can think of. So I'm going to list why I hate these records, and once I've done that I might be able to come up with some records I like!
One Hot Minute by Red Hot Chili Peppers. Title track of a terrible, terrible album.
One Way Of Life by The Levellers. Back in my late teens/long hair and Docs days, this song would always come on at the esteemed Hummingbird nightclub (where I nearly always ended up) whenever I was lying in my own vomit. I also associate Move Any Mountain by The Shamen with being alcoholically unwell.
One Night In Heaven by M People. Harry Hill always did it better.
Two Can Play At That Game by Bobby Brown. Oh dear.I remember seeing this on 'Live And Kicking' and Andi "spell it with an 'I', it's wacky!"Peters saying how much he loved it. Having Andi "spell it with an 'I', it's wacky!" Peters liking anything is going to put me off that thing forever.
Two Little Boys by Rolf Harris. Never liked Rolf. He used to scare me as a child by lurking around swimming pools whispering 'Kids, they love the water.' before telling some scary anecdote about nearly drowning. And he can't paint the Queen properly. My Granddad likes this song, though.
500 miles by The Proclaimers. I tend to find being shouted at by two scots unnerving. Even if the effect is dimmed somewhat by them both looking like Joe 90. Another person with a number for a name.
Seven Tears by the Goombay Dance Band. Big shirts. Big hair. Big singalong chorus. Big load of shit.
99 Luftballons by Nena. Singing in German should only be allowed if you are holding a stein of lager in your hand and swaying. Or if you're Rammstein. Listen to Richard Cheese's version instead.

So, I can only think of three songs that begin with numbers that I like. I like One by Metallica, an anti-war song that ironically sounds like a battle. I like 2many DJs by Soulwax. They must be proud of it as well, naming their side-project after it. It's on the album Much Against Everyone's Advice . Check it out. It's ace. I like 7 Words by Deftones. It's on their first album, Adrenaline. It's kind of like Nu-metal but before Nu-metal and better than Nu-metal.Released on Madonna's Maverick label. Probably the only decent thing she's ever done is sign Deftones.
The fact that I can waffle on about stuff I hate for much longer and more articulately than stuff I like says so much about me.

Stick It Up Your Bollocks *

Apparently, Aslan hasn't won Big Brother. The continual winter is about to go on in Narnia a bit longer.
I'm so happy Big Brother is about to finish. I've only watched about ten minutes of it, and that ten minutes involved someone shouting 'wankers'. Exactly what I was thinking. Now they can put something decent in the papers. I don't care who is favourite to win, and I'm sick of seeing the various unattractive contestants in various states of undress on the front of the paper.
The world is in a shit state, and the only thing that sells papers is Big Brother? For fuck's sake....

*Title courtesy of Roy Keane.

We're getting Randy.

The once mighty Aston Villa are now owned by the man who also owns the MBNA credit card group. His name is Randy Lerner. (I've said (typed) this before, but every post is read by someone new!) It sounds like the name of student doctor from a Carry On Matron film.
Every time you pay your credit card bill, you are helping to fill Villa's war chest, so we can sign top quality players. Is there that special something you've got your eye on? An LCD telly? An iPod video? A Thai bride/bridegroom/both?
Go on! Stick it on the card! Your debt-ridden misery will be greatly appreciated by us Villains.

TaRa Deadly Doug! Mr. Ellis was probably the third most hated man in Birmingham, behind Enoch Powell and Robert Kilroy-Silk, well, by the claret-and-blue half, anyway. The local paper, the imaginatively titled Birmingham Mail, has for years reiterated its desire for the man to step down as Villa Chairman. Today, the turncoat, two-faced, trite twats published an 8-page special pullout : Villa: The Ellis Years. Kissing the old bastard's arse, painting his 38 year reign (on and off) as a good old laugh. The best bits of the last 38 years was when he wasn't in charge and we won the the League Championship and the European Cup!
Anyway, hopefully, the deal will go through, and the sleeping giant will wake up, scratch his balls, go for a piss, brush his teeth, have a wash and a shave, comb his hair, get dressed, comb his hair again, because putting his jumper on messed it all up, go downstairs, have his cornflakes and tea, and then go out and win some stuff.

Bored.

I am at a total loose end. My better half is out this evening. My kids are asleep. I have done every pressing art job I had, to clear the decks ready for the mammoth 20-page plus script that is supposed to be imminent. I tried watching the telly. It's shit. I tried the PS2. I'm shit at it. The computer version of Aston Villa are just as shit as the real one! I'm currently listening to the radio. That's shit as well. (Kerrang FM, if you're interested. If you like the Chilis, the Foos or The Killers, it's great. I don't.) I was going to take a picture of myself in a toilet, as that appears to be a new fad amongst some., but my other half took the camera, and you don't really want to see what I do in a toilet. I tried to think of something amusing to blog about, but I can't.
So I thought I'd ask some questions that bother me, to see if my five readers out in Blog-land could answer them.
1) Why do you never see brand-new ice cream vans ? They're always battered wrecks (it might be just here in Birmingham that it is the case.) Where do you buy ice-cream vans from anyway?
Actually, this reminds me of the ice-cream van that used to serve the street I used to live on in the peaceful, leafy vale of Perry Common, Erdington. The ice-cream man was called Clive and if you only had 10p, he would give you what was called 'froth'. You'd give him a bowl and he'd fill it with unwhipped creamy fluid that was either going to be ice-cream, or had been in its youth. Anyway, not only was Clive a purveyor of frozen ices, 99s and crushed nuts, he was the local loan-shark. So you'd stand there waiting your turn in the queue, behind a crying alcoholic asking to be 'let off' that week, as he'd pissed his giro up the wall. Very strange. But I digress.
2) Why do you never see baby pigeons? Are they hatched as adults? We have a 'pigeon park' here in Brum, where thousands of the lice-infested shit-machines congregate. Every time I've been there, I've never seen a baby one.
Digression time again, though not entirely unrelated: Today I spent an afternoon in Cannon Hill Park, where there seemed to be a violent bout of stomach illness going through the local goose population. Their shite isn't like other birdshit. It's not just a white mess, they produce what can only be called turds. These turds look like miniature pints of Guinness, black with a white top. It was everywhere.
3) Who is responsible for the pile of bollocks that is How do You Solve A Problem Like Maria? I bet Graham Norton spends every day regretting the day he signed that contract with the Beeb. At least he isn't Kate Thornton. I watched it today for ten minutes. I'll never get those six hundred whole seconds back again.

Anyway, I'm going to pack up now. I'm bored of this now. It's shit.

Comics coming home.

After the Brighton convention was cancelled, it seemed to us in the comics world that the winter would be a cultural wasteland, with only the meaningless and temporary distractions that Christmas brings.

Well worry no longer! I know to some that this is old news, but I was talking to one of the organisers, Andy Baker, last night. There is to be a comics show in good ol'Brum! Birmingham held the first ever comics expo back in 1968, and this new one will be a belter. I can confirm that I, megastar Mick Trimble, will indeed be there, behind a table, trying to flog the excellent MC2 anthology to punters with discerning taste. (It will be out in November, we're having a launch party at the Custard Factory, the same venue as the comics show, sometime during the second week of that month.) Andy told me that John Cassaday and Mike Mignola also said that they were doing the show, only now Cassaday has pulled out, and Mignola might not appear as he has 'family vacation issues'. Even so, there is still a strong line up, with gods-amongst-men Dave Gibbons and Alan Davis confirmed to show. More on the show here. The Custard Factory will be an excellent venue with plenty of galleries, bars and atmosphere, with everything on the same site, unlike Bristol, which suffers sometimes from having events in two venues. Please come!

Sun Lounger Price Query.

My local Woolworths is rubbish. The only thing Woolies is good for is nicking pick n' mix from while you're shopping for school clothes for the breadsnatchers. My local Woolies doesn't even have pick n' mix. What it does have is loads of clearance baskets of crappy CDs no-one's going to possibly want and garden furniture blocking up its entrance (ooh, matron!).
I was in there the other day whilst my better half was looking for a birthday gift for a colleague. While I was doing that obligatory 'man shopping' thing (ie. Huffing and moaning and saying 'Yeah, that's nice' to everything I was asked for my opinion of), an elderly lady came up and asked me how much the sun loungers were. I told her I didn't know. There were no price labels on them. She then said 'You don't work here?' and I replied 'No'.
'Just looking?' she then asked.
'Just looking', I replied.
Now, I can understand her mistake if the rest of the staff had sunglasses and a (tasteful) 'Incredible Hulk' T-shirt on, but they were all wearing red polo shirts with 'Woolworths' written on them. Ahhh, those funny elderly folk. Bless 'em. Anyway, for everyone's future reference, I've posted a picture of some smiley Woolies staff. Let's have some fun!

Pow! Biff! Part 5.

This post harks back to an earlier one I did about comics adverts. I saw this the other day, and it spoke volumes to me! This totally explains my unmarried state. My Vacutex is on its way.

Reasons I Love Comics (issue#6): To The Batmobile!

Batman has no superpowers. He may be one of the best detectives in the world. He may be an accomplished athlete and gymnast. He might even be shit-hot at unarmed combat. He can do all of this because of his training and his iron will to carry out his driven mission of vengeance and justice. But when it comes to superhuman ability, he is severely lacking. This means he needs a method of conveyance to get from A to B, because he can't fly or bamf! or run super-fast or slide along on an icy carpet. He can't even catch a bus (his cape gets caught in the doors.) This means he needs a car; and when you are billionaire businessman Bruce Wayne, this means you can afford the coolest car on the planet- The Batmobile.
I'm obsessed with the Batmobile. I have six different large die-cast batmobiles on my mantelpiece. (If anyone has a 1/16 scale Batman Begins die-cast they don't want, I'll have it! I'll be your friend!) It's a brilliant idea; give the hero a car that's as cool as him, a car that could only belong to him. Any other superhero's rip-off vehicle is rubbish in comparison (they came after the Batmobile, vehicles like the Arrowcar or the Fantasticar or Wonder Woman's stupid fucking invisible plane!).
Although the gadget-laden batmobile (as opposed to just a black custom car with fins) only really appeared after James Bond's DB5, Batman's car, in all it's various incarnations always looks cooler than 007's. Also, the batmobile always changes to suit the mood of the times. Compare the 1966 Adam West cute- looking car with it's red 'go faster' stripes to the recent tank-like batmobile of Batman Begins. It suggests to me that the criminals of today are a greater threat than they were in '66 and need more sophisticated weaponry to take them down. (The idea of a Bat-tank was nicked from The Dark Knight Returns, set in a dystopian future where the bad guys really did need taking out with heavy artillery.)

I mean, just look at the late Anton Furst-designed Batmobile from the '89 Tim Burton movie. It is a beautiful machine. It just exudes cool. That particular movie has its flaws, but the look of it, and the car were exactly right. It is big, dark, powerful and menacing. Just like its owner.

My all time favourite Batmobile has to be the one from the 1966 TV series, probably the most accurate comic-based TV show ever. The primary colours, the wacky camera angles, the ridiculous deathtraps and super-imposed sound-effects. You pick up any silver age Batman comic and it is almost exactly the same as the TV show (except the comics Batman of that era fought more alien foes than he did in the TV series). Batman's car in that was cool. It was jet-propelled, it had a mortar cannon, and Batters had a carphone at least twenty years before anyone else did. What cracked me up was the fact that that car had a number plate! It's bleedin' obvious who it belongs to! This car is probably the quintessential Batmobile. The one I fell in love with as a nipper. The one I had a Corgi model of that I used to fire matchsticks with. The one bloody Blogger won't let me upload any pictures of!
More Batmobile stats n' pix here!

We daint talk loike that, loike.

I don't know if you've seen the latest ad campaign for Churchill insurance. It's called 'Challenge Churchill' and it involves that stupid annoying dog puppet (see photo) going around Britain in a coach being asked questions by members of the public, and generally answering 'oh yes', in that stupid fucking way he does.

There's one section of the advert where he comes to Birmingham. Where I live. The coach is parked outside the new Selfridges building (which looks like a giant pregnant dalek) and the dog gets asked a question by a woman who is supposed to be a Brummie. I've lived here all my (me) life, and I've certainly got an accent, but I'd have to have years and years of speech therapy to talk like that woman! They were filming it here, why didn't they use someone who talks normally and not some poxy actress who has never heard the accent before in her life?

Generally, I tend to get pissed off at how Brummies are used on the telly. You've had Timothy Spall doing a shit accent in Auf Wiedersehen, Pet. Fucking Benny Hawkins in Crossroads. Beryl bastard Reid. Robert Kilroy Cuprinol Silk. Jasper Carrott. The Grimleys. All tossers.

When we do have a Brummie on the telly, they give him a broad 'yam-yam' Black Cuntray accent, while here in Brum it isn't as extreme. I might accept that it isn't the nicest accent in the world, it's the way we talk! Get over it! It isn't going to change.

Whole.

These are the edited highlights of the
FutureQuake strip "Whole" which will be in issue #7, out this Autumn. It's quite a dark 'Future Shock' type story concerning the ramifications of cloning. The full pages are on my Flickr page. So click on there if you want to have a good butcher's.

Bottoms up.

Generally, it's been a good weekend. Martin the Messiah was installed on Friday, and I finally cleared the backlog of art jobs that had accumulated on account of me being a lazy bastard. I also managed to get some exercise for my injured shoulder last night, as well (see photo). I will get around to posting up some of the pages very soon, as Blogger is being a lazy bastard as well and won't let me upload the images.

Messiah Martin.

May I take this opportunity to welcome Martin O'Neill to Villa Park.

Yeeeeesssss!!!!!!!

At last! Doug Ellis has finally managed to make the right decision before he finally fucks off. Villa have managed to appoint a manager who has actually won trophies! England, Charlton, Middlesbrough all wanted him but we got him! Villa is still a plum job! Hopefully, he can teach Juan Pablo Angel how to run again.

Hopefully now, Ellis will sell to Yank billionaire Randy Lerner ( who sounds like a trainee doctor from a Carry On Matron type film!) and the glory days can return to Villa Park.

Reasons I Love Comics (issue#5): Back-issue boxes.

When I go to a comic shop, I have to wade through Darth Vader masks, Hellboy fists, Randy Bowen Busts, Topps trading cards, Macfarlane action figures and Graphitti T-shirts to get to the actual source of this merchandising; the comics themselves. Increasingly, these days, it is getting harder to buy comics in comics shops. It's even more difficult to buy what us bona-fide piss-smelling self-abusing comics nerds really want (besides a good bath): Back issues.
I love sifting through boxes of old comics. Even if I have no intention of purchasing any. You can't beat having a good old mooch, checking out the covers and shaking your head at the prices of some of them ("£18!? But it's Herb Trimpe!).
Those days are going. eBay has all but killed the back-issue business. I'm being a bit hypocritical here, as I've purchased old comics from eBay, in fact, the most I've ever paid for one comic,£17, was for a Marvel Team-Up #1 from eBay. The reason I bought the issue from them and not from a comics shop is probably the main reason that we don't see back-issue bins in comics stores anymore; the price. Old comics are expensive, and once the store has factored in its overheads and profit, it gets too much for your average punter. the cheapest I'd seen a similar-quality MTU#1 in a shop was for £40!
There are still comics fairs and marts and memorabilia shows to go to, but these mean mingling with people who smell of wet dog, and there's always some bastard looking at the box you want to rummage through! These fairs are also increasingly being taken over by the action figure/trading card/anime merchants. It shows me that your average geek these days is more interested in comics stuff than the actual comics themselves.