Spooktober 2024, Day Seven

SPOOKTOBER 2024!

Spooktober is a 31 day event of coming up with original horror ideas based on prompts my writing group voted on.  Carrying forward from last year we’re having optional sub-themes and I’m trying to do them all like Debbie do Dallas.  Book covers made with midjourney and photopea.


SPOOKTOBER DAY #7 — POSSESSION
(× Soap Opera or Mirrors or Dance)

TITLE:  Czarny Domowik

PREMISE:  The domowiki of the noble houses in Silesia always protect and reflect the families within them.  The Czajka family grew corrupt and discordant with time, generational abuse and trauma (Soap Opera) creating a cycle of doom and despair.  The spirit that once manifest itself as lizards to devour the cockroaches falls silent for a long century, then returns as a howling gadarene legion of miniature ghouls in every reflective surface (Mirrors), that drive the last of the line to end it all (Possession).

HORROR ELEMENT:  Justyna Czajka just assumes she’s going bonkers because of the abuse, smiles wanly, and goes about her day.  She comes home in the evening to find her remaining family members (abusers) dancing (Dance) from room to room, smashing against things, leaving skin and blood on the walls and doors.

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Spooktober 2024, Day Six

SPOOKTOBER 2024!

Spooktober is a 31 day event of coming up with original horror ideas based on prompts my writing group voted on.  Carrying forward from last year we’re having optional sub-themes and I’m trying to do them all like Debbie do Dallas.  Book covers made with midjourney and photopea.


SPOOKTOBER DAY #6 — CULT
(× 1990s or Game Show or Shyamalan Twist)

TITLE:  Kill the Lights

PREMISE:  In the late ’80s, Piper Herdez had the worst of both worlds – being exploited by a ruthless cult, then going through one of the more ethically dubious deconversions – abducted and bound, verbally abused like it was an exorcism.  But it took; now she recognizes what she was going through on the inside, and can never look at The Illumination Center (Cult) with the same eyes she used to.

Even so, she hates Gabriel Gundren -the deconversion guy her family hired- with a passion.  Her family came to see it her way as well, and are OK with her trying to snake some of his business.  She uses a variety of subtler methods to give cult members the perspective they need to escape, and targets people he was hired to snatch.

Gabriel starts to figure it out, but doesn’t have a chance to do much until, in 1992 (1990s), things come to a head.  Piper finds out he’s going after a man she knows from The Illumination Center, and she figures it’s time to use her inside knowledge to get close first.  Both of them hit on the same scheme:  infiltrating the set of the cult’s game show (Game Show), Kill the Lights.

HORROR ELEMENT:  The Illumination Center’s game show revolves around a $cientologyesque personality quiz, but played for prizes.  It’s also treated as a sort of humanist getting-to-know-yourself thing, where the studio audience awws at sympathetic moments of revelation.  Somehow this works for normies well enough that the show is a good moneymaker for the creeps.  Still, that money has to buy the cult leader’s tenth lambo, so the production is cheap.  Instead of pulling back tinsel curtains for big reveals, they turn off the studio lights, change things around, then turn them back on.

So horror:  The cloying atmosphere of a cult, the danger of being pulled back in or running afoul of the cultists, and what all can happen in that moment of dark?  Piper and Gabriel got jobs on the catering crew to get into the place.  Gabe was just going to snatch the boy and run, but he sees what Piper is up to and starts a cat-and-mouse situation with her.

The cult catches both of the infiltrators and forces them to play as contestants, bound to chairs like Gabe always used to do.  The twist (Shyamalan Twist): when the lights go out their souls are laid bare, and when the light comes on, they are Illuminated.  It’s always that the cult is right, isn’t it?

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Spooktober 2024, Day Five

SPOOKTOBER 2024!

Spooktober is a 31 day event of coming up with original horror ideas based on prompts my writing group voted on.  Carrying forward from last year we’re having optional sub-themes and I’m trying to do them all like Debbie do Dallas.  Book covers made with midjourney and photopea.


SPOOKTOBER DAY #5 — CLOWN / CIRCUS
(× Evil Twin/Clone or Poe Style or Burial)

TITLE:  Auto-da-fé

PREMISE:  Pierre-Claude and Claude-Pierre are twin clowns (Clown).  Claude-Pierre is morose and seeks affection or at least the attention of others in pathetic ways; Pierre-Claude (Evil Twin) is obsessed (Poe Style) with causing harm to his twin, which gradually ramps up toward lethal methods.  Gianotta is an Italian acrobat who would like to love Claude-Pierre, but is too depressed by his sad-sacking ways.  She falls in with Pierre-Claude but he has little interest in her, so consumed is he with his perverse take on self-destruction.

HORROR ELEMENT:  Pierre-Claude doesn’t directly hurt Claude-Pierre, because it would be too easy, and risk driving him away.  Instead, he gives him bad advice, turning Claude-Pierre into the circus daredevil and escape artist.  He finally encourages Claude-Pierre to get into a glass chamber filling with sand (Burial) while trying to escape from chains.  If you do this one thing, you will finally impress the crowds and be worthy of love.

Pierre-Claude and Gianotta watch from the shadows.  She notices Pierre-Claude pacing and biting his fist and pulling at his motley.  What is the matter?  He is at once ecstatic with watching his brother die slowly, and deeply upset he can only do this once, thus losing his only thrill in life.  Should he save the boy or not?

Gianotta figures out what’s going on and collars a gendarme to save Claude-Pierre.  The cop goes for the only solution they know, and tries to shoot the glass.  The bullet passes through the glass and the shallowest sand, through Claude-Pierre, out the back, and through Pierre-Claude.  Adieu, garçons.

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Spooktober 2024, Day Four

SPOOKTOBER 2024!

Spooktober is a 31 day event of coming up with original horror ideas based on prompts my writing group voted on.  Carrying forward from last year we’re having optional sub-themes and I’m trying to do them all like Debbie do Dallas.  Book covers made with midjourney and photopea.


SPOOKTOBER DAY #4 — WESTERN
(× Disappearance or Fire or Skeletons and Bones)

TITLE:  The Smokers

PREMISE:  Surprise Prequel to Fire Red, set in 1947.  Desert Rose, New Mexico is next to a reservation that is at risk of being seized by the feds because the tribe that it was reserved for is going extinct (Disappearance).  There are eight people left in the tribe, in the wake of a few diseases and disasters, and none remember the language, none remember the gods.  But a god of fire (Fire) remembers them, and stirs from his slumber like a cranky old man to spit curses indiscriminately.

Stars fall in the night as a posse of pinkertons comes to remove the last of the tribe from their homes.  The stars make all the fire on the land sick, and anyone who imbibes the fire becomes infected.  Just about everybody smokes, but the tribe was out of cigarettes at the time, so the natives are mercifully unaffected.

HORROR ELEMENT:  The infected become fiery freaks, immoral and violent and burning up from the inside.  Dina McMurtry, a spinster in her 30s, is the tribe’s warrior – technically a sheriff, in practice a social worker, and mean as hell.  She helps rally the tribe to defend themselves as the smokers close in, all while the adults in the tribe are jonesing for cigs.  Why are the pinkertons blowing up when they get shot?  Why are they crumbling to flaming skeletons (Skeletons) and bouncing around in the night uncanny like cinders lofting from a bonfire?  A few natives survive, but they didn’t know about the cigarettes, and become infected.  Dina keeps her cool just long enough to send the children away in a truck, before the tribe officially ends in a burning skelly pile.

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Spooktober 2024, Day Three

SPOOKTOBER 2024!

Spooktober is a 31 day event of coming up with original horror ideas based on prompts my writing group voted on.  Carrying forward from last year we’re having optional sub-themes and I’m trying to do them all like Debbie do Dallas.  Book covers made with midjourney and photopea.


SPOOKTOBER DAY #3 — DARK FANTASY
(× Imprisonment or Revenge or Cats)

TITLE:  The Claws

PREMISE:  Culgrum was cursed by the Vizier of Thrax (Dark Fantasy), transformed into a cat (Cats) and fed to the rats.  His sister Culpepper was a harem girl that secretly learned sorcery from the vizier’s books and managed to at least turn Culgrum into a man-sized cat-thing, which could easily trounce the rats.  The vizier got even crankier and sent all his goons after them, and they escaped into the wilds.

Now it’s kill or be killed, an eye for an eye for an eye (Revenge).  The vizier presses some desperate assassins into his service, Spinky Binch and Cloub Strofe, by holding their child hostage (Imprisonment) in the form of a nervous songbird that could die of a heart attack at the drop of a pin.  Spinky and Cloub join forces with their would-be targets to get vengeance of their own.

HORROR ELEMENT:  I don’t know I’m doing this way past my bedtime.  Maybe all the magic involves turning your body inside out and the vizier seems like the voice of reason while he does horrible things.  Being a cat probably sucks sometimes?  Spooktober fail.

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Spooktober 2024, Days One and Two

SPOOKTOBER 2024!

Spooktober is a 31 day event of coming up with original horror ideas based on prompts my writing group voted on.  Carrying forward from last year we’re having optional sub-themes and I’m trying to do them all like Debbie do Dallas.  Book covers made with midjourney and photopea.


SPOOKTOBER DAY #1 — DEVILS AND DEMONS
(× Retro Neon/Synthwave or Apocalypse or Teen)

TITLE:  Malcolm Hyperian vs. The Fiends

PREMISE:  I happened to already have a (Retro Neon) (Teen) (Apocalypse) or three up my sleeve.  This is the same setting as my unfinished novel Love is Torment, the far future world of Breana IV, where a world-spanning city is mostly inhabited by monsters, the only humans living in enclaves where ancient technological barriers against the supernatural still function.  Powerful monsters are called fiends, weaker ones ukubien (Devils and Demons).  Humans with powerful enough psychic abilities and combat skills go out in the wilds to make trade happen between enclaves.  Most are mercenaries working for tribes, some work for a fascistic government that rules the largest enclave – the closest thing to a city that’s left.  That’s Ißbanbat, which has an aesthetic somewhere between the Empire in Space Shooters and the Hell’s Angels.  The tribes have accidentally’d into a semblance of early ’90s R&B aesthetics, where all celebrations look like proms in bright tacky colors.  This was all an elaboration on a dream I had a long time ago, inspired by playing an old RPG.

Anyway, Malcolm was originally Molly but I’m a changed person and fuck it, trans all your old OCs.  Malcolm is a hetero trans dude on that harem anime bullshit, where three weird girls love-hate-love him.  He and one of the girlfriends are in the academy at Ißbanbat, the other two girlfriends are just civilians.  The civilians stray too close to the wild and get seduced into becoming fiends.

HORROR ELEMENT:  The girls find out their fiendhood was just part of a scheme to penetrate the city’s protections and feast on humans.  They betray the fiends by letting Malcolm know about the invasion, but it’s too late, and all four of the youths end up in the middle of a prom gone bad, attacked by demons.  Malcolm augments his fists with telekinetic energy and beats their intangible asses.

 

SPOOKTOBER DAY #2 — FOUND FOOTAGE/EPISTOLARY
(× Paranoia or Big City/Skyscraper or Erotic Thriller)

TITLE:  The Stairwell Letters

PREMISE:  In a big old building three young ladies live alone in their own separate little apartments (Big City), while working as secretaries or nurses or whatever in a more sexist time.  They are genial with each other, but have very incompatible shifts – one on a day job, one working two jobs, and one on-call for a hospital.  Ships in the night, they leave each other little notes in the stairwell (Epistolary).  They have secret spots where other tenants should generally not happen across them.

HORROR ELEMENT:  It’s all cuteness and light, if in a sorta depressing milieu, but things get weird.  Linda and Sandra begin to fall in love, but Roberta becomes obsessed with Sandra, and has a weird kind of dubious sexual magnetism that lets her initially get away with seducing each of the other ladies in turn (Erotic Thriller).  Feeling ashamed about having been involved with Roberta, and therefore unable to compare notes in a way that would reveal her malevolence, Linda and Sandra fall prey to a thousand little tricks and torments (Paranoia).  How bad could it get before the truth is revealed?  And even when they find out, it’s not like they can call the cops and out themselves as sexual deviants.

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It’s a Me

On my most recent May Flowers post, I commented with AI-assisted illustrations for the entries.  The last m’flower was a poem written in first person, that included a section wherein I blast on some creepy bugs with guns.  So my illustration was chosen from a set of midj images like these…

And how did I make these greatamericansatanesque clowns emerge from an AI mo’ chine?  By feeding it this terrible screen capture from my rap debut video (at right).  Like many artists, I find the image of myself – or the idea of the image – to be intellectually interesting.  It makes me feel some kinda way, like who is this creature that is I?

The way it works is called “image prompting.”  Your prompt in an AI art program is the words you use to tell the AI what you want.  When it is just words, it’s referencing the tagging system of the program.  When it’s an image, well, I don’t really know what it’s doing.  AI art is the work of a “denoising algorithm” that uses statistical probability to place pixels, with those odds altered by the prompt.  There’s an explanation out there for how image prompting works that I ain’t bothered to dig up because I don’t care that much.  I figure it’s one of two things:  Genuinely using the image to nudge probabilities, or just reverse engineering the image into a verbal prompt and using the undisplayed verbal prompt to control the AI.

So welcome to my jungle.  I gots fun and games.  Wherein the fun is masturbatory omphaloskepsis and the games is art that nobody asked for.  I’d lead in with the cliche of “you asked for it” but you very much did not.  I hope you get a chuckle or divertingly creepy vibe from the display.  Proceeding thus,

This first set was just putting my image as the prompt and running my “pretty girl” style filter over it.  I’ve posted these girls in comments somewhere, I kinda love ’em.  But are they mees from another mother?  Would this love be a thought crime against nature?

Another time I mashed my selfie up with the “glitchcore” AI art from that one post, and again, I did note them in the comments.  It’s like dollar-store replicant daryl hannahs.  Getting a little less transgenda lookin’, which is a shame, from my point of view.  I think passing is a scam meant to drive trans suicide rates, like dieting is for… everybody at this point.  Whatever.

This one was mixing my selfie with an image derived from a crappy old version of stable diffusion, 2022-style.  You can see that image on my bloge in a Spooktober post.  Closed eyes are the sensuousness, when equipped with horse eyelashes.  Gothique.

The next set is the least passing trans gals in human history, courtesy of mashing myself up with a random pretty-ass 19th century painting lady.  Think she was a nymph or something, don’t care enough to dig up the original pic.  Again, I love ’em.

What’s the most obvious lady pic in human history to mash oneself up with?  The Mona Lisa.  This produced a character that looks very much like NaNoWriMo dot org’s most imperious mod of yore, so I viking hatted her ass, and it was a wild success.

Remember that part in Blue Velvet where Dean Stockwell lipsyncs to Roy Orbison’s In Dreams?  Fucking epic.  This was mashing my selfie up with him.  Kinda reminds me of Phil Hartman, aww.

Here is where things got really interesting for me.  I used a strange painting of Salome in a Babylonian throne room.  The style might be called expressionist or symbolist, I think, and had a fuzzy and drippy effect almost like you were seeing the scene through rain – despite the golden glow.  Cool piece, again, I forget whodunit, but I was very intrigued to see the AI interpret that as motion-blurred degraded VHS!  This is me as tour guide at a desanctified cathedral or castle…

I took that set and mashed it up with an image of a demon from a funky grimoire, and a cool pic of the dudes from The Damned, resulting in these fucked up Marilyn Manson hillbillies.  Very amusing.

Leaving out the cathedral set to only have my selfie mixed with the demon, we get… wigbeard!  Amazing.  I love it.  This is also a good example of the strange things that happen when you mix a photo and a drawing in AI art.

The first image below on the left is actually from artbreeder, which is kind of a fun website.  I added some human “DNA” to an image of a cute puppy, creating an abominable bog mummy standup comedian.  On the right you can see what comes of that mixed with my selfie – some kind of queer grunge bassist who wasn’t cool enough to OD.

Mixing my selfie with a beautiful AI pic yielded these VC Andrews -styled queer cuties, who I mixed with some other stuff to get the characters from this other one.  Anyway, by my affectionate words you may be starting to get an idea of which ones I find genuinely appealing.  Ignoring the fingers, of course.

The one on the left below was mashing myself up with the edgy angel from the cover of the Kult TTPRG, and to my great amusement, it became some kind of hair metal groupie from the late eighties.  Mashing her up with another image full of homunculi yielded this bumper crop of selfcestuous cultist little people.

Those lil’ gals became bigger and gayer and sleepier in subsequent iterations.

it’s a good time, but has this narcotic quality about it… soporific… think im gonna fall asleep now… gnite.

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100 Words on Metamorphosis

Got a donation with a suggested topic I don’t quite understand.  I wonder if it’s a sex thing.  Phrased, “A butterfly/artist go-lightly. ;-),” it contains evocative words.  I got evoked.  Let me answer it as impressionistically as it hits me…

A butterfly, an artist, go lightly between lives, between colors, between forms. Yea tho any given moment be as solid as a chrysalis, what lies within is the fluid that bridges one unknowable state and the next.

Know me now?  Think again.  Know me in another minute?  Keep guessing.  My love and my passion are colors of light that oscillate through bandwidths beyond your limitations.  Transmutation, alchemy, coagulation, dissolution, thesis and synthesis, these words are pathetic feints at the meaning that underlies my life.  Take my heart if you dare.

This has been a metaphor for butt stuff.  Thank you.

1000 Words on the Topic of Something That Amuses Me

I’m going to write 1000 words now on something that amuses me.  I came up with the name for this fundraiser while I was in the dentist chair, and told my dentist about it.  She was amused, said, “Well, it’s all about getting attention.”  That it is, but it can also be about yuks.

Inspired by this financial predicament and my funny little idea, I scribbled the banner image in a notebook, right there in the car.  Here’s the drawing, snapped with my cellphone camera later that night:

I snagged the banner from my last fundraiser to get an idea of the proportions I needed to squeak it into, using that as the foundation in photopea.  It was tricky.  First order of business, I had to scale the self-portrait to fit the right end of the banner well, not get cut off too awkwardly.

Next I stretched a copy of the title to fit the space left to it, leaving room above and below for the words I meant to add later with a text tool.  This did not fill the space with my hatchy background texture right, so I used a combo of distorted duplicate layers and the clone tool to fill the area around the words.

You may have noticed the title is blurred subtly toward the left side of the image.  If this was not meant to look like a sketchy pile of shit, I would have taken a new photo of the image to get past that.  However, sketchy style, stuff can look rough.  I copied a layer and did unsharp mask until it looked more legible, which blew out the other end of the pic.  Then I used a quickie layer mask to make only the part I wanted look crisped.

At this point, my boyfriend would be preserving every layer, but I get refrigerator blindness when I see a bazillion layers, so I merged that shit.

Next comes text.  I like something in the ballpark of horror novel cover fonts, circa the early 80s.  So Benguiat -esque.  Photopea’s collection of I-presume-legally-public-domain fonts does not include Benguiat, and this one was kinda sorta close enough.  I did it bold, but it didn’t look bold enough, so I added a one pixel stroke in the same color as the font.  I used outer glow instead of drop shadow, changing it to a dark color and blending style, to make the white font pop from the predominantly white page.

Remember the floating star from the original photo?  I was thinking ahead when I drew that.  I knew I wanted to make it white and splash it around the finished image.  One of my “Great American Satan” bits of iconography is the five point star of the american flag, inverted to resemble the goat pentagram of satanism.  I made a layer of pure white and copy-pasted the star into a layer mask on it.  I adjusted the levels to remove most of the background, then brushed out the rest in a few seconds.  I applied the layer mask, and voilà, little star.

Then I carefully scaled it and put it into parts of the image where it wouldn’t interfere with the composition.  A little dark glow to make them pop, and I really liked the end result.  The scratchy pen strokes have almost a 3d quality to them.

Oh, and one last thing.  The color of the image at this point was a slightly pukey pink-grey-brown.  I made a red white and blue gradient layer, then scrolled through blend styles until I found one I liked, then reduced the opacity a little, to get the subtle americana look of my beauteous masterpiece.

This image amused me a lot.  The idea for the name amused me, and the image turned out great, at least to my eyes.  The drawing aspect isn’t brilliant.  My skills are a bit degraded from lack of use.  No, not because I’ve been doing AI.  Just because I don’t have an ideal space for drawing, and my vision is getting worse, and I’ve been busy with lots of other things – particularly writing.  But the drawing didn’t have to be great.  It’s a scratchy mess in a scratchy mess.

That’s a bit shy of a thousand words, so maybe a bit more about how I’ve done as an artist, throughout my life.  I used to be among the best few artists in my high school of about 2000 students, which gave me a big head.  I came to art school, and I was only in the top 20%, which was a bit humbling.  Then, as part of that education and practice, I started paying closer attention to the artwork I like, and comparing myself to the greats.

That was very humbling.  Enough to make me decide, hey, I don’t even wanna bother competing with that.  There’s this philosophy espoused by the H. Jon Benjamin character Coach McGuirk, on the old cartoon Home Movies, goes something like, “Why bother to do anything if you’re not immediately good at it?  Playing guitar is hard.  Martial arts are hard.”  I was only willing to do what it takes to be skilled at art as long as it wasn’t difficult.  When it came to the big leagues, I was like, eh, minor league is good enough for me.

Maybe this is projection, but I think everybody does this, and the greats of art just had more talent to start with than I did.  For them, it was easy, the same way I had enough talent to coast past a few thousand other kids, once upon a time.  Years of practice helps.  I have no doubt that many of my fellow high schoolies could have spent a decade of discipline getting better than me if they had the time and inclination.  But the discipline to get good at something through effort is a much rarer quality than raw talent itself.

But in the words of ZZ Top, I might be mistaken.

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