Saturday, December 31, 2005

Drew these in Alias Sketchbook Pro.




1. She will be filed under Saturn.
2. A quick bird in profile.
3. The third child of Galactus.

Neo Khan: Stunkwave


Iron lungs simmer with countless algorithms poised to rewrite form and function. Cough a bullet to synapse leaking chakra. These counter clockwise arms are versed in ghost alchemy and precise calculus. They storm with analogue feedback. Ears bleed. Mouths run dry. For all, I spit conspicuous consumption. Mars will be the foundation of my flesh totem. We are the Gods Of Plunder. We are Mass Extinction. Push Ctrl-Alt-Del for salvation.

Spam in a Khan like nobody can.

The Revolution will be TiVoed...

...on Mars.

Saturday, December 17, 2005

Insectii Khan: Czarscream


Tantra ills on patience. I toil restlessly, bound to bloated husks droning static oblivion. Thoughts of murder creep on a throne of stressed tendons. The walls crawl with beads of fever. My throat crackles like dried human skin. The Khans will know me as their once and future king.

"Turn off your minds, relax and float downstream. It is not dying, it is not dying..."

"Tomorrow Never Knows."

Starscream's voice died of a cocaine overdose.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Decepti Khan: Negatrom


They are the strangest of creatures crowned with top-hats and worn overcoats, umbras of doom falling out their pockets. They leave tracks of vast charcoal and mark territory with the scent of pungent gunpowder. The drool from their muzzles glisten like diamonds falling on cobalt sands carving craters of glass. They flock in shapes of fleeting violence and thrill at the sight of carrion bleeding petrol. They speak in tongues, secret and callous. Their sigils, old as death and twice as bold, rest in hollow locks nestled in gilded ribcages. They conspire under steampunk monoliths, siege engines above, pumping the noise of free enterprise, flanked by an army of Strangelove automatons sired by Moloch. They ache for home, a far away world of grim iron orbiting a hollow shell uncharted by the science of learned men. They are Khan Men. They are legion. And they're gunning for the Kingdom of Mars.

Thursday, November 17, 2005

Sunday, September 18, 2005

Meanwhile on Saturn...


"All Aussies will be spared when we take over your planet. We use vegemite to power our ships after all."

...And they wonder if there's life on Mars.

Sunday, September 04, 2005

Work In Progress.


More details need to be added to the celestial alchemist in the foreground. And there's another visual element I have yet to sketch out for his surroundings. I'm not entirely sold on the hats I did for his pet birds either.
Coherence is sometimes just an afterthought on Mars.
What made me say that?

Saturday, August 27, 2005

"Show and Tell" on Mars.


"Hi, I'm Calburt. This is Figment. I made it out of spare parts scavenged about the steampunk alleys of an abandoned Martian metropolis. It took me 4 seconds, 13 hours, and 7 days to build. It's still learning to walk. My next project is a pocket-sized flux capacitor powered by burning fur and the screams of the innocent. Thank you."

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Old Martian nursery rhyme.


Efrosyni, Efrosyni, Efrosyni.  
Payed no heed to wise old granny.  
Made fun of the witch that lived in the gully.  
Was cursed, not once, but thrice too many.  
With fugly feet, a wing and taily.  
Was born a lefty, now a righty.  
The ears, however, are naturali.  
Efrosyni, Efrosyni, Efrosyni.


This sketch was from an earlier work-in-progress post. I won't go in to detail but a few changes were made. I'll leave it up to you to hunt down the old pic and see the tweaks for yourself. But I say stick a fork in this beyatch. It's done, more or less.

Monday, August 15, 2005



Hey Miss Maycee so spacey. Hope you had a smooth ride back to northern Cali.

Once again, happy berfday!

...And she wonders if there's life on Mars.

Friday, August 12, 2005

Dung Beetle of Mars.


Observe as the hairy, Martian dung beetle leap at the chance to claim a steamy pile of shit. These excreted treasures are then rolled into lumpy spheres by the curious creature. Rich in methane, these magnificent turds are dipped into sulfur puddles and left to bake in the sun. The beetle will then bury the volatile mixture underground forming a perimeter around it's burrow. These nature's land mines are then triggered by unsuspecting trespassers. Blown to smithereens, the intruder's dismembered parts are then collected by the beetle to be displayed as trophies around it's home. If enough body parts are acquired the male stands a good chance of attracting the female species for mating.

Saturday, July 30, 2005

Sigmund, The Humorless.


A stray beast am I for a task so hollow.
I alone will uproot that bloody Sacred Cow.
Weed Him out of existence.
Stab Cow's holy karma.
Choke His roots what stinks of resin.
Reality will fester on Him like rabid cancer.
His antler, I'll take for a crown, a symbol of my dynasty to come.

This is circumstance for murder pure and plain.

187 on a demigod.This too, is the Martian Way.

Monday, July 18, 2005

Gonzo's Lunch.


His kind would bust the shell with their beaks
and slurp the meat while the crab was alive.
There is no sport in cooked crustaceans.
Eat politely. The meat, white as ivory.

Saturday, July 16, 2005

Sacred Cow of Mars.

stereo mana,
mana stereo,

mana stereo,


Make Nonsense out of Sense.
This is the Martian Way.


Two hits. I hit you, you hit the ground.
This is the Martian Way.


One eye open, one eye closed.
This is the Martian Way.


"I declare Martian Law." -Capt. Murphy Sealab 2021

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Zensorship Kommittee.


Pestilence of Mars.


Shaman of Mars.


He belongs to a shamanic order known to harbor secret knowledge of Mars. He once told me that half a cup of gossamer fur nestled in the skins of berserker bunny men are capable of powering the stars if extracted correctly. The secret: gossamer fur are tightly-packed, curled up dimensions that vibrate to the tune of... uh, I've already said too much. Besides, QuanToon Physics is hard to comprehend.

I'm curious what these berserker bunny men look like. Stay tuned.

Friday, April 08, 2005

Work in Progress.

I have a picture in my head of this halfbreed gramocordion contraption the frog is holding. The sound it pumps is akin to the Blues filtered through a megaphone and a chainsaw motor. So, I'm still gathering reference for gramophones and accordions. Euro-industrial blue grass is what I'm hearing, like the soundtrack to prairiepunk.

I've been unwrapping UV coordinates all day. As a consequence, I'm seeing red dots and polygons everywhere.

Thursday, March 24, 2005

Five and a smile.

One eye is insomniac, and red as wine.
Another is lazy, near-sighted and stares into space.
The third is reflective and made out of glass.
The fourth is blind to color, and runs red lights.
And the last isn't long for this world,
itching to shut with a wink and a smile.

Sunday, March 13, 2005


This is an old sketch. One of the first drawings i did in Photoshop. I was creating my own brushes when a lazy spell hit me as I was scanning in drawings from my sketchbook, which was a pain in the ass at the time because of my slow Kompooter. So I said screw it and started drawing with my tablet. Tossed my sketchbook in the trash and never looked back. Muh Nuh, Muh Nuh.

Samurai Champloo is on. It's another mushroom episode. This one was weirder than the Cowboy Bebop episode which also involved eating shrooms. Something tells me Watanabe has tripped on psychedelic fungi before. This guy is a genius. Or not.