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Ah, the low budget paper
General | Posted 13 years agoI hate it when the paper on which I'm drawing gets all weavy because of my hand's sweating, but this exceptionally humid and warm weather isn't helping U_U
Extended
General | Posted 13 years agoI'm sorry, I'm not sure when I'll finish another page of the egyptian gods comic.
My apologies.
My apologies.
Holdup
General | Posted 13 years agoOh, lawdy, it's always so fun-fun-fun when your brand new router decides to die. Oh so very fun.
Happy easter
General | Posted 13 years agoHappy easter everyone or, as Mario would say, Buona pasqua (Mamma mia!).
Now I shall go and cook a pizza or something.
Now I shall go and cook a pizza or something.
A quick note
General | Posted 13 years agoMore of an addendum to the previous journal/comunication.
Starting next week I'll start doing guided tours to some sort of palaeonthology park for schools.
Being an archaeologist my knowledge of palaeonthology is quite scarce, for this reason I've begun studying it (though at a very basic level, I'll have to tour kid age 8-10, I won't have to be too specific). For this reason the the time I have to draw has diminished considerably; I'll probably manage to put toghether a new page once a week but maybe not even that.
My apologies.
# Dunkleosteus (which is not a dinosaur) rocks!
Starting next week I'll start doing guided tours to some sort of palaeonthology park for schools.
Being an archaeologist my knowledge of palaeonthology is quite scarce, for this reason I've begun studying it (though at a very basic level, I'll have to tour kid age 8-10, I won't have to be too specific). For this reason the the time I have to draw has diminished considerably; I'll probably manage to put toghether a new page once a week but maybe not even that.
My apologies.
# Dunkleosteus (which is not a dinosaur) rocks!
I'm slow, actually
General | Posted 14 years agoI've begun following courses at the university yesterday, and, since I'm really slow at making comics actually, probably I won't upload as many pages per week as before.
Jfyi.
Cheers
Jfyi.
Cheers
Trash movies
General | Posted 14 years agoLately I've seen one of the worst, most hilarious film I've ever seen: "Faster pussycat kill kill", can't say the title didn't warn me.
The dialogues sounded like they were rolling on charts to see what word to say next, the result was nonsensical to say the least.
"Sei proprio un guanto di velluto fatto di metallo"
"Torcerò il tuo ragazzo come una ciambella fatta a nodo!"
Probably was just the italian dubbing, but still...
The dialogues sounded like they were rolling on charts to see what word to say next, the result was nonsensical to say the least.
"Sei proprio un guanto di velluto fatto di metallo"
"Torcerò il tuo ragazzo come una ciambella fatta a nodo!"
Probably was just the italian dubbing, but still...
Rosetta stone
General | Posted 14 years agoUnlock a new Slot for accessories!
Zu hilfe, zu hilfe, zu hilf, ich ferlore!
La boda del hermano di Maria del Mar!
Solo cioccolato, dalle praline alle torte!
Meos parvulos equos, tunc petebam quem amicitam esset!
Nun krè methusthen!
Sat Ra Hemenet Imen Hatshepsut!
koyaanisqatsi!
Zu hilfe, zu hilfe, zu hilf, ich ferlore!
La boda del hermano di Maria del Mar!
Solo cioccolato, dalle praline alle torte!
Meos parvulos equos, tunc petebam quem amicitam esset!
Nun krè methusthen!
Sat Ra Hemenet Imen Hatshepsut!
koyaanisqatsi!
Scuregge vestite
General | Posted 14 years ago*prot* ma con indosso un frac ed un monocolo.
*prot* con bandana, jeans e collnine d'argento.
*prot* in mutande.
*prot* in abito da sera.
*prot* con bandana, jeans e collnine d'argento.
*prot* in mutande.
*prot* in abito da sera.
HA!
General | Posted 14 years agoHA!
Laureato!
Finalmente faccio parte anche io del gruppo di laureati disoccupati, so ethno-chic!
Laureato!
Finalmente faccio parte anche io del gruppo di laureati disoccupati, so ethno-chic!
Placeholder II, the revenge
General | Posted 14 years ago | |
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Insight
General | Posted 15 years agoI should be studying bronze age pottery right now, instead I'm surfing for porn on the internet.
Awesome? I guess not.
Awesome? I guess not.
Anaciclosys
General | Posted 15 years ago"Romae omnia venalia esse"
"Everything is on sale at Rome"
-Sallustius about 40 yrs b.C.
Still true.
"Everything is on sale at Rome"
-Sallustius about 40 yrs b.C.
Still true.
At loss
General | Posted 15 years agoI'm at loss of words to describe how much I hate latin grammar.
JCS
General | Posted 15 years agoYesterday I went to see the Jesus Christ Superstar musical.
It's simply awesome.
Jfyi.
It's simply awesome.
Jfyi.
Propertius
General | Posted 15 years agoCYNTHIA RESTORED
Sextus Propertius trans. Alan Marshfield
The Spirits do exist. Death’s never the end of us.
The fires of cremation baffled, the pale ghost escapes.
For Cynthia came, a vision, inclining across my pillow -
lately interred in the brouhaha of the roadside -
to see the poor insomniac, lately from love’s wake come,
racked that the sheets that were once his estate were cold.
It was still the same, her hair, as it was at her funeral;
her eyes the same; and the cloth at her side was charred.
The fire had eaten the beryl ring that was on her finger,
and her lips were chapped with the surface waters of Lethe.
Both were alive: the voice coming from her, the understanding;
but on her hand a splintery thumb-bone rattled.
"You bastard, though one couldn’t have hoped for a better man ...
Can sleep get to work so soon, when I’m hardly cold?
Our sleepless intrigues in the Subura erased so early?
And the sill our nocturnal tactics had worn away,
which I threw a rope from so often, dangling from it for your sake,
coming to enlace your neck, down hand over hand?
Our souls would blend as we made love on the forked highroad,
our mantles giving the cobbles a little heat.
So much for the unspoken contract whose fraudulent wording
the boisterous unhearing rain-wind has swept away!
As my eyes were going out did no one call after me?
If you had recalled me I’d have had one more day.
No watchman in my poor honour gave a rap with his cloven cane,
and my head, exposed, was gashed with a broken tile.
And did a single soul see you stooped at my grave in grief
or see your black toga grow hot with a stifled tear?
If you jibbed at going farther than up to my gate, at least
you might have seen the bier with less haste sent round.
Why did you, you, not petition the winds, thankless, for my tinder?
Why did my flames not emit aromatic spikenard?
Was this too much, to fling hyacinths, not exorbitant,
or propitiate my barrow from a spilt wine-jar?
And my serf Lygdamus: whiten the iron for him, cauterise him!
I knew from the wine when my blood went racing from it ...
And let Nomas, sly as she is, hide her vials of arcane salivas!
The scorching pit she used then will point to her:
only lately in public eyed up and down through her cut-price nights,
and now marks the ground with a gold-inlaid modish hem;
who loads her bolshie maid with lumpier knitting baskets
if the jabberer has excessively praised my beauty.
And Petale - because she took a wreath to the cemetery,
the old thing gets fettered to a disgusting log.
Strung up by her writhing hair, Lalage’s cut to pieces
because she dared mention rue when she asked a favour;
and you gave her that gold statuette of me to be melted down,
and so she acquires a dowry from my cremation.
Yet I won’t hound you, though you deserve it, Propertius, of me;
my despotic sovereignty in your verse was long.
I swear by the irreversible spell of the Fates, and may
the triple dog, for this, gentle its yelp around me,
I was always faithful to you. If I am lying then may
vipers hiss on my mound, make my bones their bed.
There are two haunts distributed by the ugly river
and all the riot dead must row either water;
one conveys the polluted Clytaemnestra, another carries
the freak timbers of the counterfeit Cretan cow.
But look, a garlanded sloop sweeps away yet another lot
where holy breezes caress the Elysian rose;
melodious strings and Cybele’s circular cymbals bang
to the strum of the Lydian orchestra dressed in turbans.
Andromeda and Hypermestra, those stainless wives,
relate the events, notable souls, they suffered.
One moans of the maternal chains that have bruised her arms
and the glacial rocks her hands had not merited.
Hypermestra tells of her sisters’ enormous daring
and how she had not the courage for such a crime.
And so with the tears of death we heal the desires of life;
I myself conceal your betrayals’ atrocities.
But now I am giving you orders - if by chance you can be affected,
if the herbs of Chloris have not yet seduced you wholly:
don’t let my nurse, Parthene, go short when she’s old and shaking;
she put up with you, you never have found her greedy.
And don’t let my darling Latris - her name’s from latreuein -‘serve’-
extend the looking-glass for a new employer.
And all those poems you have written around my name,
burn them for me, stop winning praise through me.
Push the ivy off of my mound, which amasses and struggles with
its hairy twists bandaging my small bones apart.
And where fruit-bearing Anio communes with its branchy regions
and Hercules sees that the ivory never yellows,
these lines, I am worthy of them, write square on a pillar, but
make them, so the hurried commuter may read them, brief:
HERE LIES THE GOLDEN CYNTHIA IN THE FIELDS OF TIBUR:
NOW FAME IS ADDED, ANIO, TO YOUR BANKS.
And do not reject apparitions coming through holy porches,
when holy the apparition comes, it has weight.
By night we veer abroad, night loosens the pent-up ghost;
even Cerberus goes vagrant, the bolts dismantled.
At dawn we make for the swamps, compelled by Lethean law;
we sail; the ferryman catalogues his freight.
For now give yourself to others, soon I alone will have you,
and mixed in the grave I’ll grind you, bone on bone."
When in this way she’d ended her querulous dispute with me,
her spirit disappeared, my embrace was empty.
( http://colecizj.easyvserver.com/poprocy1.htm )
Sextus Propertius trans. Alan Marshfield
The Spirits do exist. Death’s never the end of us.
The fires of cremation baffled, the pale ghost escapes.
For Cynthia came, a vision, inclining across my pillow -
lately interred in the brouhaha of the roadside -
to see the poor insomniac, lately from love’s wake come,
racked that the sheets that were once his estate were cold.
It was still the same, her hair, as it was at her funeral;
her eyes the same; and the cloth at her side was charred.
The fire had eaten the beryl ring that was on her finger,
and her lips were chapped with the surface waters of Lethe.
Both were alive: the voice coming from her, the understanding;
but on her hand a splintery thumb-bone rattled.
"You bastard, though one couldn’t have hoped for a better man ...
Can sleep get to work so soon, when I’m hardly cold?
Our sleepless intrigues in the Subura erased so early?
And the sill our nocturnal tactics had worn away,
which I threw a rope from so often, dangling from it for your sake,
coming to enlace your neck, down hand over hand?
Our souls would blend as we made love on the forked highroad,
our mantles giving the cobbles a little heat.
So much for the unspoken contract whose fraudulent wording
the boisterous unhearing rain-wind has swept away!
As my eyes were going out did no one call after me?
If you had recalled me I’d have had one more day.
No watchman in my poor honour gave a rap with his cloven cane,
and my head, exposed, was gashed with a broken tile.
And did a single soul see you stooped at my grave in grief
or see your black toga grow hot with a stifled tear?
If you jibbed at going farther than up to my gate, at least
you might have seen the bier with less haste sent round.
Why did you, you, not petition the winds, thankless, for my tinder?
Why did my flames not emit aromatic spikenard?
Was this too much, to fling hyacinths, not exorbitant,
or propitiate my barrow from a spilt wine-jar?
And my serf Lygdamus: whiten the iron for him, cauterise him!
I knew from the wine when my blood went racing from it ...
And let Nomas, sly as she is, hide her vials of arcane salivas!
The scorching pit she used then will point to her:
only lately in public eyed up and down through her cut-price nights,
and now marks the ground with a gold-inlaid modish hem;
who loads her bolshie maid with lumpier knitting baskets
if the jabberer has excessively praised my beauty.
And Petale - because she took a wreath to the cemetery,
the old thing gets fettered to a disgusting log.
Strung up by her writhing hair, Lalage’s cut to pieces
because she dared mention rue when she asked a favour;
and you gave her that gold statuette of me to be melted down,
and so she acquires a dowry from my cremation.
Yet I won’t hound you, though you deserve it, Propertius, of me;
my despotic sovereignty in your verse was long.
I swear by the irreversible spell of the Fates, and may
the triple dog, for this, gentle its yelp around me,
I was always faithful to you. If I am lying then may
vipers hiss on my mound, make my bones their bed.
There are two haunts distributed by the ugly river
and all the riot dead must row either water;
one conveys the polluted Clytaemnestra, another carries
the freak timbers of the counterfeit Cretan cow.
But look, a garlanded sloop sweeps away yet another lot
where holy breezes caress the Elysian rose;
melodious strings and Cybele’s circular cymbals bang
to the strum of the Lydian orchestra dressed in turbans.
Andromeda and Hypermestra, those stainless wives,
relate the events, notable souls, they suffered.
One moans of the maternal chains that have bruised her arms
and the glacial rocks her hands had not merited.
Hypermestra tells of her sisters’ enormous daring
and how she had not the courage for such a crime.
And so with the tears of death we heal the desires of life;
I myself conceal your betrayals’ atrocities.
But now I am giving you orders - if by chance you can be affected,
if the herbs of Chloris have not yet seduced you wholly:
don’t let my nurse, Parthene, go short when she’s old and shaking;
she put up with you, you never have found her greedy.
And don’t let my darling Latris - her name’s from latreuein -‘serve’-
extend the looking-glass for a new employer.
And all those poems you have written around my name,
burn them for me, stop winning praise through me.
Push the ivy off of my mound, which amasses and struggles with
its hairy twists bandaging my small bones apart.
And where fruit-bearing Anio communes with its branchy regions
and Hercules sees that the ivory never yellows,
these lines, I am worthy of them, write square on a pillar, but
make them, so the hurried commuter may read them, brief:
HERE LIES THE GOLDEN CYNTHIA IN THE FIELDS OF TIBUR:
NOW FAME IS ADDED, ANIO, TO YOUR BANKS.
And do not reject apparitions coming through holy porches,
when holy the apparition comes, it has weight.
By night we veer abroad, night loosens the pent-up ghost;
even Cerberus goes vagrant, the bolts dismantled.
At dawn we make for the swamps, compelled by Lethean law;
we sail; the ferryman catalogues his freight.
For now give yourself to others, soon I alone will have you,
and mixed in the grave I’ll grind you, bone on bone."
When in this way she’d ended her querulous dispute with me,
her spirit disappeared, my embrace was empty.
( http://colecizj.easyvserver.com/poprocy1.htm )
Carmina
General | Posted 15 years agoCarmen 16
"Pedicabo ego vos et irrumabo, Aureli pathice et cinaede Furi [...]"
Catullus
"Pedicabo ego vos et irrumabo, Aureli pathice et cinaede Furi [...]"
Catullus
There and back again
General | Posted 15 years agoby Bilbo Baggins.
Working
General | Posted 15 years agoI'm back from a month of unpayed work, I think it's supposed to be called "stage" or something. Anyway I had fun, so I guess it's fine.
Stuff
General | Posted 15 years agoAh, the implied meanings, those are that which in a word, or sentece, cut most deeply and most effectively. Insidious things, they seem to have a life of their own, as the one who voice them often does not even know it just did that.
Words and concepts escape the control of those which use them, and people wonder why I speak little.
Words and concepts escape the control of those which use them, and people wonder why I speak little.
Cover metal
General | Posted 15 years agohttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pwaGdVoqk9w
Also, began drawing comic strips for a WoW guild (on an unofficila server). Not much time to do anything else.
Also, began drawing comic strips for a WoW guild (on an unofficila server). Not much time to do anything else.
Liber linteus Zagabriensis
General | Posted 15 years ago"Nice" in etruscan is "mlach"
I rather think it sounds like a curse or, possibly, someone throwing up.
-Nunthen Thesan tins, Thesan eiseras seus, anuch mlach nunthen.
I rather think it sounds like a curse or, possibly, someone throwing up.
-Nunthen Thesan tins, Thesan eiseras seus, anuch mlach nunthen.
Portal 2
General | Posted 15 years agoI've just finished seeing portal 2 trailers and gameplay videos. NERDGASM.
Easy-to learn talian
General | Posted 15 years ago-Selvaggina: Little Female Savage
-Lampione: Big lightning
-"Calza a pennello": Sock at brush
-"Gira i tacchi": Turn your heels
-"Grazie!" "Prego!": Thanks! I pray!
-Fetore: King Fetus
-Occhiali: Eyes at there/ Wingeyes
-Avvoltoio: Me wrapped
-battibecco: beatbill
-Conte: With you
-testa: You stays
-Restato: king nation
To non-italian reader: I'm pulling your leg, this aren't real translations.
-Lampione: Big lightning
-"Calza a pennello": Sock at brush
-"Gira i tacchi": Turn your heels
-"Grazie!" "Prego!": Thanks! I pray!
-Fetore: King Fetus
-Occhiali: Eyes at there/ Wingeyes
-Avvoltoio: Me wrapped
-battibecco: beatbill
-Conte: With you
-testa: You stays
-Restato: king nation
To non-italian reader: I'm pulling your leg, this aren't real translations.
recurrence
General | Posted 15 years ago E' tutta mattina che ho in mente il titolo di una canzone degli Iron Maiden
"Only the good die young"
A toast.
"Only the good die young"
A toast.
