Afishionados,

Typically I reserve posting any design work until after I turn in the assignment. However, I feel pretty confident that I am done with this one, aside from some very minor tweaking here and there. It’s due Thursday, but you get to see it today because I care about each and everyone of of you dearly¹ and I am in a sharing mood².

This assignment has been one of my more entertaining ones (in terms of creating it). Each student in the class was given the option to choose one of the human rights from the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. I wanted Article 5, which states:

No one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment.

A lot of my school work up to this point has been very crisp and clean, and I wanted to get my hands dirty, so to speak. I was instructed to choose up to three human rights in the event that I could not get my first choice, but thankfully I ended up getting it.

The stipulations for the assignment were very general and open-ended. The finished product has to be at least 18″ x 24″ and must contain the right in its entirety. Because this is for my advanced typography class, it must also incorporate type in some fashion. Here is what I came up with:

The most difficult part of this whole composition was getting people to read the human right in the correct order. I presented this in it early state to various people all over campus and asked them to read it. Everyone could make it to “torture” but then got confused as to the correct order after that. Originally, the human right read from left to right and spanned across the blood spilled beneath the wrist. Instead, the gap created by the blood divides the right into two separate columns (like a newspaper article). Once I rearranged the human right text to follow the column-like setup, people were able to read it correctly (and hopefully you were able to as well).

The arm in the photo is my own. I’m right-handed, so I had to take a photo of my left arm in order to get a usable shot. I laid out some scrap paper on my desk and snapped it under a fluorescent light. After some quick Photoshopping, I removed the “seams” from the stacks of overlapped paper. My arm is the only subject matter in the initial photo. Everything else was digitally added after the fact. The very first thing I did was remove most of the color from my arm to give it a more corpse-like appearance. Doing so also tended to highlight the veins near my palm and throughout my arm.

Here is a close-up view of the arm carving. I “carved” this out using my Wacom tablet and gave it that nice gory effect in Photoshop. I can’t say as though I have ever cut myself, but after looking at people online who have, I think the illusion is pretty convincing.

All the bruises and stitches in the photo are real, by the way. They just aren’t really on my arm. My favorites are the wrist bruise and the stitches. In the early stages, I only had the blood in the photo and I wasn’t getting enough of an uneasy, disturbed reaction from people. After I added the stitches, bruises and “weapons”, people were really grossed out, as well as engrossed enough to read what the poster was about. Overly gory is ineffective if people are immediately turned off and don’t read it. I think I found a happy middle-ground.

Finally, I looked at a lot of horror movie posters for inspiration. Most, if not all, added some grain over the whole image to give it an even grittier, darker tone. It’s very subtle, but you can make some of it out in the carving photo above. This was the very last effect I did, and it’s amazing how different the poster prints with the grain than without.

I really like the medical tools and the razor blade. The stainless steel saw is fierce-looking, and really disturbs people I’ve shown this poster to. I’m also very proud of the rust effect I added to the razor blade (the image I used was that of a new, clean blade). Rusty razors are much more intimidating. Another “effect” that I am very pleased with is the shadows I added to the saw, the syringe, and the razor (sounds like a C.S. Lewis books from hell, doesn’t it?). It’s one of the effects that I hope people don’t even notice I added because that means it looks realistic, and therefore successful.

Want to see the original photo for comparison? I figured you might. Aside from removing the aforementioned “paper seams” and some very basic color correction, the photo is untouched. Here it is:

While I’m very happy with how the poster turned out, it remains to be seen what the professor thinks. I suppose if she hates it, I’ll try and sell it to Lionsgate for use as the SAW V movie poster.

¹Lies, all lies.

²Actually, I lied about that, too. I’m really in the mood for chocolate ice cream.

Afishionados,

This post comes with fine print. You must agree to the following terms and conditions before reading this post. If you do not agree, click here to go to a happy place.

By reading this post you agree with everything written, said, and/or posted on this blog. By reading this post you acknowledge that you might be one of (though certainly not limited to) the following:

Article I.

1. An Ubercunt.
2. An alcoholic.
3. An Evil Bitch.
4. A drug addict.
5. An absolute waste of human life.
6. A vindictive asshole.
7. A hypochondriac.
8. A liar.

By printing this post or any part of Old Fish and Lemonade and mailing it to ANY attorney you agree to ALL of the following:

Article II.

1. You agree to pay me $15,000 in cash.
2. You’re not worthy of the air you breathe.
3. Everything that I say is always right.
4. You’re completely incapable of doing anything for yourself because you can’t stand up to your parents.
5. I am absolutely fucking awesome.

If you do not agree with ALL of the above you are in violation of the terms and conditions hereby in effect immediately by order of the Awesome King as of this moment on Friday, November 30th in the year of our Lord 2007.

These terms and conditions do not apply to “Fellow Inmates” with the exception of Article II: Section 5.

::Whew:: Sorry about that. It seems that my Fairy Tale post has ruffled some feathers so I had to add a disclaimer for this one. Now, on with the post. And remember, NO PRINTING AND MAILING to attorneys without agreeing to the terms and conditions of this blog. Any similarities to persons or things in real life, no matter how guilty those persons or things’ consciences may be, is pure coincidence.

Once upon a time in Magical Happy Land there lived an Evil Bitch. She was annoying, had short hair, and hunched a lot.

The Evil Bitch could never do anything without the permission of the mentally unstable Ubercunt. No matter how much she thought she was independent, the Evil Bitch was not capable of thinking for herself or making decisions on her own, for fear of upsetting the Ubercunt. Upsetting the Ubercunt would only lead to panic attacks, severe dramatic upchucking, and a fast, albeit pointless, trip to the Room of Emergency.

One day, the Ubercunt got it in her head to continually pester the Awesome King by making shit up and sending him copies of his fairy tales by means of a Loiyar. Though the Ubercunt considered herself a super hero, the reality is that she was nothing more than a fat Ubercunt in really bad tights.

One of the claims of the Ubercunt and the Evil Bitch was that the Awesome King had been “text messaging derogatory messages” to the Ubercunt’s phone. This was not at all true, however, and the Awesome King would be MORE THAN HAPPY AND WILLING to submit the last few records of his cell phone statements as proof. After all, the Awesome King only gets 200 text messages a month with His Majesty’s Service Plan, and why would he waste them on the Ubercunt when he’s since met so many beautiful women at college and work?

The Ubercunt and the Evil Bitch also feared that a specific line from the Awesome King’s Fairy Tale was a threat to their life. “If only they could be silenced forever”. The Awesome King was confused by their reaction to a fictitious tale, and certainly never planned to take the lives of anyone. Especially not with gas at $3.15 a gallon. Sadly, the Ubercunt and Evil Bitch were gravely mistaken if they thought that the Awesome King cared enough to travel so far to do such things. No, children, the Awesome King would never do that. The Awesome King never meant it as a death threat. But no one ever said that the Ubercunt or the Evil Bitch were intelligent and that the Awesome King’s schedule certainly did not revolve around them and their guilty consciences.

In the end, the Awesome King also reminded the Ubercunt and the Evil Bitch that there existed, even in Magical Happy Land, the Bill of Rights. The Bill of Rights happened to include the First Amendment, which states:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

This gave the Awesome King the ability to continue to write his fictitious stories and share them with his followers and admirers throughout all of Magical Happy Land.

And so, the Awesome King continued to live a happier life with his newfound friends from school and work and the memories of much, MUCH happier times.

Afishionados,

My sister, her husband, and their children are in town for the Thanksgiving holiday weekend. My nephew is 4 and my niece is 1-and-a-half. I love them and usually it’s good to see all of them, but there are moments when I wish that the kids were still in Cleveland where they belong. For example:

My nephew, Austin, is mostly potty trained. I say mostly because he can do everything except wipe his own ass. A skill that, in my opinion, is essential to human survival and one that everyone should possess. Unfortunately, Austin hasn’t quite reached this milestone yet.

A few days ago, I found myself alone in the house with just Austin and Kevin, my other sister’s fiance’. Kevin and I were sitting at the kitchen table surfing the Internet when Austin decided to run like hell to the bathroom (which is just outside the kitchen) and shut the door. Aside from the speed at which the child had moved, I didn’t think much of it. And then the door slowly creaked open, and the a small, squeaky voice announced, “Uncle Atlas, I pooped!”

At first I thought that perhaps Satan was just a soprano and was playing an evil trick on me. And then the voice spoke again. “Uncle Atlas, I said I poooooooooooooped!” I looked at Kevin and he looked at me. His ashen face was like that of a deer’s just mere moments before a van drives into it at 100 MPH.

“Not it,” he said to me as Austin continued to stand in the doorway, pants around his ankles and continuing with the updated status reports of what he had just accomplished.

Kevin is a doctor and a future pediatrician. Apparently, the noxious fumes from Austin’s festering floaters had permeated his brain, causing cell damage and creating a momentary lapse in memory and judgment. Clearly, Kevin was misinformed. And so I took it upon myself to correct his misguided outlook.

“I’m a graphic designer. You’re the pediatrician. If Austin needs crayons or coloring books, I’m there for him. But if there’s chunks in his cheeks, that’s your line of work. Start wiping.”

In the end (no pun intended), Austin wiped his own ass and Kevin gave a thorough inspection. Austin had done just fine by himself, washed his hands, and stepped out from the bathroom. As he approached the table, I congratulated him on his success. “Good job, Austin. Today, you became a man!”

I had a similar experience with Austin this past summer, when I really was the only one (besides him) in the house. My sister and my mother had gone out shopping, and Austin told me that he had to poop. So I did what any paranoid man would do: I sent a text message to both their cell phones.

“Austin has to poop. Come home soon.”

Thankfully, my ingenious plan worked and they arrived within minutes. Of course, I was prepared and had a backup plan in place. If mom and sis had not returned in time, Austin would have been stripped naked and placed safely and securely in a bathtub full of water until someone (anyone) came home.

Afishionados,

In case you were thirsty, I’ve taken the liberty to fill up my fridge with something I figured you’d all enjoy. Well, except AngryMan. (Sorry, but they don’t make a penis flavored beverage for you.)

Photo (C) Samantha Murphy.

Afishionados,

Afishionado Andrew has, a great personal risk, kindly sent this along. Was this how Barbaro really died? Is it all just one big conspiracy? It looks like a black, government sedan… What do you think?

Afishionados,

Britney’s a bad mom for sure
Her ethics and antics not pure
Court order decree
That she lose custody
I wish we could get rid of her.

Afishionados,

A friend of mine requested that I Photoshop a friend of his playing the guitar. This is his friend and this is the original image (above). I made the guitar picture, but I also made one of my own. I think it’s funny enough to share, so here you go.

I think Richard’s face is what really makes it priceless.

Afishionados,

I’ve seen Dateline MSNBC’s To Catch a Predator many times, and I can’t help but notice that most of the predators caught share one common theme: they’re all very religious (or at least claim to be). Church volunteers, Jesus Freaks… you name it, they’ve probably been caught. I wonder if it’s just the way that MSNBC edits the show (cut out some of the predators that aren’t religious?) or is it really this common?

(For the record, I am not saying that all religious people are inherently predators. There ARE good religious people out there. Just not on MSNBC’s To Catch a Predator :-D).

Also, why are these underage teens always presumed to be 100% innocent? I’m certainly not siding with the predators, but at even at 13, 14, 15 years of age, etc., I find it difficult to believe that these teens don’t have any concept that chatting with people online and asking them over for sex is “bad” or “wrong”. And this opens up a whole other can of worms, too. Is it bad parenting? IS the teen, in fact, that innocent just because they’re underage? I’m a believer in the notion that the Internet is NOT a babysitter, and you shouldn’t let your children online without supervision.

Anyone else have opinions or thoughts on this?

Afishionados,

Or so he says.

Afishionados,

Another photo from Andrew heads my way, just in time for the 4th of July. Thanks, Andrew, I can always use more horse meat. I think I’ll use this chunk for my 4th of July Barbaro-B-Q.

I slept through the parade (again) but did manage to make my way downtown for the festivities. The old part of downtown was blocked off and was full of delicious, fried, and unhealthy food. Awesome. Since I live so close, I walked there, and on my way I couldn’t help but notice this crazy shit in the front of someone’s yard.

I snapped this with my camera phone at a good distance, but I think the photo came out really well, considering. In case you can’t read it, the yellow sign says “I think I can” and the red one says “I made a present”.

I hope you noticed the photo of Isaac. In his cowboy duds. In a toilet. In the front lawn. This is fucked up on so many levels that I don’t even know where to begin. Why would you dress your child up like a country western circus clown and take photos? Do you want him to be a virgin for the rest of his life? And yes, that really is a toilet, it just looks odd from the angle in the photo.

What am I saying? It would look odd at ANY angle. It’s a goddamn toilet in the front yard!

I’m really hope that Isaac is getting potty trained. Otherwise, the existence of the toilet completely baffles me. As for the “present” that Isaac made, well… Isaac, my friend, if you consider those things presents, have I got a treat for you. Come out with me after I’ve had some Chipotle and I promise to deliver you one HELLUVA gift. And since you’re claiming them as “presents”, Isaac, you just found yourself a spot in my ongoing feature, Christmas Gifts You Shouldn’t Buy. Congratulations. (For the record, I didn’t get close enough to the toilet to see if it was just dirt, or one of Isaac’s presents.)

On a more serious note, have yourselves a great 4th of July. Go buy some fireworks and celebrate our nation’s independence by blowing up a small part of it. And thanks to our troops, especially those overseas, who are over there so that we can celebrate. And to my good friends on the USS Abraham Lincoln, the USS Enterprise, and in the United States Marine Corps. Come home safe, you guys! Happy 4th of July and Congratulations to Isaac!