Shop Mobile More Submit  Join Login


Closed to new replies
February 24, 2013


Replies: 498

Walls of text

Pynasta Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2013  Hobbyist
If there is anything that annoys me, there is walls of text, it doesn't matter where they show up, or in what context, but they make me want to poke my eyes out with a spoon. Or something. One thing is when you find it in random places on the internet, but my new history book has them. Or, it's not really walls of text, but instead of doing the normal thing, having an empty line between things, they just have one space. Like this: . That much space on the next line before they start babbling again, it makes reading almost impossible. On top of that the text is tiny, I wonder who thought that was a good idea. I'd like to find him, and tell him politely that it might be a bad idea. Then there is the stuff in internet forums. You find this post with an idiotic statement, and the poster says "don't argue if you haven't read the post", and then you have this meter long wall of text. Sometimes I try to read it, and it doesn't even make any sense, it wouldn't surprise me if half of it is just chatter about how handsome Justin Beaver is. How come some people do so many silly things, there are many other silly things people do that I don't really understand. For example wearing their pants on their knees, why on earth do they do that, it makes walking difficult. And why do people paint their faces, and shave off their leg hair? Speaking of shaving, I think more guys should have moustaches, like, those pretty twirly things. Only old men have moustaches these days, more young guys should have them. I'm sure, if women had facial hair they'd have all sorts of fancy things going on, colouring, curling, braiding, and probably some spectacular moustaches. But the boring guys just shave it all off. Why do so few people these days appreciate nature, I go outside, and just "YAY TREES", but nobody else I know seems to like it. Wind is fascinating, the way it works, and can get so powerful that it breaks stuff. And fire is fascinating, it can destroy almost everything, but at least here in the north we would probably be doomed without it. And water, water does that too, just that it does it very very slowly, but we would be doomed without that too. Come to think about it, if nature suddenly decided it hated us, we'd be dead in no time, no time at all. I think that maybe I'll just pour out everything on my mind now. Some atheists are obnoxious, okay, you believe in evolution, and you think I'm an idiot, I get it, now shut up. Not all of them though, some of my best friends are atheists, and some are actually Satanists, apparently. Oh well, I'm a Christian, and I don't think any of you will ever change that... Because... Because I've WITNESSED things! That means I'm either insane, or something is out there. Thinking like this, that should actually be proof that there is nothing out there at all, since it's established that my mind doesn't work correctly, but.... Oh well, but who decides what is correct anyway, maybe my mind is working correctly, and all of you people have minds that are broken, thought about that, huh? HUH? I feel like singing a song now. Nah, I won't. Now you've probably already gotten my point about walls of text, but I'll continue anyway. Does this forum even have a character limit? I think I'll tell you the h2g2 entry on Guinea Pigs now, because Guinea Pigs are awesome. Now wait a second, copy would ruin this, wouldn't it? Of course, I can't copy paste, and I probably have to make some sort of sense too, right? I think I'll write a poem. But don't poems get rubbish when writing them on a single line? I'll write a poem anyway, here goes. O little leaf lying on the ground, so delicate and round. Did you die by the frost, or did you get stuck in a pater nost.. er elevator? Now that is a poem worthy of a daily deviation, you guys should try a paternoster elevator some time. Also you should try Nordic humour, we find it hilarious, but you'd probably just find it sad. It's like, these super tragic things, and we call it comedy. I'm gonna watch some of it tonight. Okay, now I give up, I think this character limit is really far out there, so I'll give you the h2g2 entry on Guinea pigs. Guinea pigs are smallish, furry things that squeak. A lot. Loudly. They are cavies, a sort of rodent related to the squirrel and coypu. Capybaras are massive versions of guinea pigs that live in rivers and look at things with silly expressions, but guinea pigs are cheaper to feed and louder. They eat vegetables and can be trained to squeak at the sound of the word 'lettuce'. Like rabbits, they eat their own droppings in order to let them have two trips through the digestive system. Now that was only a part of the article, I think that's enough now. I'll find something else fun. Let's have a minutes silence for the victims of 9/11 now. There, now a minutes silence for the victims of the 22'nd of July. And the Chinese children who were stabbed, and the people that were negatively affected by that meteor in Russia. And for suicide victims. Now, let's look at this fact about Lars Monsen, taken from this website [link] , and translated by me: One time, when Lars Monsen and Chuck Norris me tin the woods, Lars Monsen shouted so loudly that Chuck Norris got red hair and freckles. Do you want another fact? Okay then. Lars monsen is 1.83m tall, when he stands on his hind legs he is 5.27m tall. Okay, one last one, but then we have to do something else. Lars Monsen can do with both his hands on his back. Okay, that's enough, let's look at the last thread written by Illastrat. "5.) They don't plan their compositions. If you are going to do a oil painting you should know your palette and decide how to implement the principles of design. Noobs never sketch out their compositions and they just jump right in. This is wrong.4.) They don't use references. References give your oil painting structure and takes off some of the strain of composition. Combining references is a great way to use them creatively.3.) Dirty colors. When you paint, ALWAYS clean your brush after each pulled color. If you are going for vibrant colors this is a must. Lack of color control is one of the main noob mistakes.2.) Using pure white for highlights and black for shadows. Pure white should never be used for highlights unless you are making an artistic point. Black should not be used either. Instead, you should mix white with a hint of chosen pigment and for shadows use deep purple or mixed blue and brown.1.) Lack of drawing skills. Drawing is a fundamental element. IF you can't draw you should work on that because that means you will never be able to reach your full potential as an artist. Your oil painting will only be as successful as your drawing ability. Painting is the evolution of drawing. If you can draw you should learn or kiss your oil painting aspirations good bye. And this brings me to my complaint, even though this list is concise and helpful, why are you going to scrutinize me? All that hate you have that you are manifesting, why? I am tired of noobs thinking they can be vocal and a critic when they don't even know what to do a partial contour drawing. I think people should humble down and study. But yeah, noobs will always exist but they should know their place." That was interesting, now let's carry on. You got my point yet? No, okay. Now let's sing a song. Bæbælillelam. No wait I don't want to. Let's look at Pakaku's latest thread then. "Or am I.It's been five whole hours and no new threads have been made? You guys are letting me down. Seriously letting me down.I had a silly idea for all of us to collaborate in, but no one is paying any attention! Oh no! Stop reading this instant and go to that journal, give me your thoughts, and continue on.Call-out threads are cool. Especially when you're the one being called out. This will be fun to play wi- Wait, Neuro locked the thread before I could comment??? Oh for fucks sake, you wily bastard, I wanted to have fun with it. Stop getting so excited over things, it's not natural.Somebody's mom wants me to design them a logo. For free. Come on, friend's mom, my art skills are worth some payment, don't you think? Oh, you need the logo by tomorrow? It's almost midnight? Well, don't expect fucking much. And sending the image is proving more difficult than it should be. GodDAMMIT.My attention span is down the shitter. I've been working on the same picture for the past week, since I had no school and piss all to do. It's saturday night and I'm on here, crying my heart out, and basically doing anything except for working on the drawing. Because I can't work on something for a week straight. (Disclaimer: going to force myself to finish it, because it is fucking worth finishing.) WHY IS ART SO HAAARD???Finally, if this complaint is overshadowed by another thread posted within ten seconds or so, I am going to bust out the Jack Daniels so hard you don't even KNOW it. Or maybe. I bought a small bottle out of peer pressure (you folks know who you are), but I'm just that paranoid about not liking a drink. I'm strange. Really....I don't have anything else for you. Sorry." That was a nice one, I'll give you the whole h2g2 article on fish now.FishFish are animals that live in water. They swim about and generally make their environment look a bit prettier1.
How do I know it's a fish?If it lives in water and has gills2, then it's likely to be a fish. Fish, as animals on Earth, have been about for a long time3. They are cold-blooded vertebrates that often have an interesting odour4. Some fish live in the sea, others in rivers and more can be found gleefully swimming about in lakes. Some even exist in ponds. Fish don't live in trees, so don't go looking for them there.There are many creatures that swim in water but aren't fish. The bigger ones you might see are whales and dolphins. These aren't fish, they're mammals. Then there are squid and octopuses. These have legs, which most fish do not. If fish have legs then they have either:Evolved.Mutated.Had them stuck on by someone with an absurd sense of humour.Other sea creatures include turtles, jellyfish, sponges, crustaceans (like crabs and lobsters), molluscs (like mussels and oysters), and smaller lifeforms such as krill (a variety of shrimp) and sea monkeys. None of these things are fish. They might live in the water and smell like fish, but they are not. Don't be fooled.Types of FishThere are many varieties of fish on the planet. Some live in cold water, others live in tropical waters. Some like seawater and there are those that prefer fresh water. There are big fish, like sharks. Then there are smaller fish, like salmon, tuna or barramundi. Then there even smaller fish that are lots of pretty colours, like angelfish or tetras. Some fish are poisonous and others are weird shapes and sizes, like swordfish, stonefish and flying fish. Some have interesting talents and others glow like neon signs. There are even fish called seahorses that aren't horses and don't look at all like fish, but are. Confusing isn't it? There's pretty much a fish for any occasion.Where to See FishThe best place to go and see fish is in their natural habitat - water. If you can't scuba-dive, or swim, you could try going to an aquarium. Many aquariums offer visitors wonderful experiences like 'touch pools' (where you can play with little sea creatures), 'feeding time' (where you can feed the fish) and expensive soft toys.If you have no money to pay the admittance charge to an aquarium your next best option is to visit a pet shop. They won't charge you for going in and looking and you could see some other nice animals too5.Another option is to try getting on a submarine. These vehicles can transport you under the waves into the realm of the fish, but a lot of them don't have windows so you may not see many fish. Lots of sweaty sailors, but no fish6.If all else fails you might try befriending someone who owns either a fish tank of their own or a pond7. Then you might see some fish. And have a nice cup of tea too.If you can't be bothered leaving the house to see fish you could just watch the television. From David Attenborough's Blue Planet through to fishing shows like Rex Hunt's Fishing or Fishing with John, you should catch a glimpse of a fish. Or nod off, which isn't bad either.Catching FishNot as easy as simply holding out your hand and letting a fish fall into it. Catching fish is not like catching a cold - it is an art form, which many people enjoy as a hobby. It is known either quite simply as 'fishing' or by the more technical term 'angling'. Fishing is undertaken in a variety of places throughout the world - be it on rivers in Germany or lakes in America, on the ice in cold places like Alaska or simply off a pier. It is generally done where you would expect fish to live8. Don't go fishing in an inner-city car park as you are unlikely to catch a fish, but more probably an irate motorist. There are places that fishing is prohibited due to environmental reasons, these may include: over-fishing, pollution or it being breeding season.If the traditional rod, line, hook and a worm method of catching a fish isn't your idea of fun, you could always try noodlin', a less expensive and far less effective form of fishing. Whatever method you prefer, once you have caught a fish you have a number of choices: Let it go. Just be happy you have touched one of nature's magnificent creations.Take it home and put it in a fish tank to look at.Kill it and eat it.Eating FishIf you choose option three, it is best you also know how to properly prepare a fish for eating and what beverage to drink alongside your meal. White wines are usually found to accompany fish well, although a good lager can be just as nice. Indeed, a clear, cool, refreshing glass of water would do9. Then there's also the matter of what cutlery to use. Eating fish can get very complicated...Fish, for the most part, have a poor lot. They are food for many other animals, such as bigger sea creatures, birds, bears and pets. Fish are enjoyed either as a main meal or just a snack and can be consumed raw or cooked. Humans in particular have developed many methods for serving fish. Recipes involving many different types of fish and just as many different cooking styles are found worldwide. In Japan sushi is popular, while in Britain the fish and chip shop is king of the take-away restaurants. It is a well-known epicurean fact that the battered fish (usually cod) goes alongside the chip as assuredly as the sky is up.In Asia and Europe soups and stews made from fish are common, while in the Americas and Australasia people prefer their fish grilled, fried or barbequed10. It is wise to eat fish freshly-caught, as it can cause stomach upsets if left for too long11. A general rule of thumb, which can be attributed to Benjamin Franklin, is: 'Fish and visitors smell in three days.'Fish - What Do They Represent?The word fish comes from the Old English word fisc and is related to the German fisch, the Dutch vissen and even the Latin piscis. George Bernard Shaw found it more interesting to use the word to highlight odd inconsistencies in the English language. He suggested that perhaps fish should be ghoti. The gh as in tough, the o as in women and the ti as in station. Whatever the explanation, it wouldn't really matter if fish were called bunkwobbits12, humans would still find them useful and exciting.Some cultures have worshipped fish as gods or higher beings. The Masai of Africa do not eat fish as they are considered sacred, in much the same way cows are sacred to the Hindus. Other religions have chosen the fish to symbolise their beliefs. Ancient civilisations have seen fish in the stars, the zodiac sign Pisces being represented by two fish. The story is as follows: Once upon a time, a big monster13 appeared while Aphrodite and her son, Eros, were bathing in the Euphrates River. They turned into two fish (Aphrodite being the larger one) to hide from said monster. The goddess Athena later put the two fish in the sky, the constellation Pisces being the end result.Fish are often used ornamentally, both as real-life additions to the decor and pictorially through the eyes of an artist. Many artists have drawn inspiration from fish, from the creators of Roman mosaics through to notable artists such as surrealist Salvador Dali and MC Escher.Some people have even invented fish, for example Douglas Adams created the Babelfish to explain why aliens all speak English in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. There are also many songs and stories about fish, like the traditional children's rhyme: One, Two, Three, Four, Five Once I caught a fish alive.And of course, this couldn't be a comprehensive guide to fish without mentioning Monty Python's Flying Circus's 'fish-slapping dance'. If it weren't for fish, many other parts of human life would be devoid of interest."So long, and thanks for all the fish." - Douglas Adams Attributed to space-travelling dolphins in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy1Except for the ugly fish.2The bits of a fish that act like lungs. They absorb oxygen and remove carbon dioxide so the fish can breathe. Nifty, eh?3Scientists believe that about 450 million years ago the first fish sprang out of the primordial ooze.4Probably giving rise to the phrase 'There's something fishy going on here.'5Birds, kittens, rabbits, hamsters, guinea pigs, mice and dogs. If you are extremely lucky you may find rats, snakes and spiders also.6For a deep sea submarine experience, there is the possibility of visiting a centre like The Deep.7Both of which are usually filled with the worldwide favourite pet fish - goldfish.8However, don't take a rod and reel to an aquarium, the staff won't like it at all. For that matter, the fish probably won't be that thrilled either.9Although WC Fields cautioned against drinking water, because (paraphrasing slightly) fish fornicate in it.10While in Iceland they do some interesting things with fish.11Although dried fish can be nice, and this involves leaving them out in the sun for a bit.12This is a made-up word.13Possibly a Megalodon. That was bautiful, Let's now look at an extract from the wikipedia article on idiot. Idiot as a word derived from the Greek ἰδιώτης, idiōtēs ("person lacking professional skill", "a private citizen", "individual"), from ἴδιος, idios ("private", "one's own"). In Latin the word idiota ("ordinary person, layman") preceded the Late Latin meaning "uneducated or ignorant person." Its modern meaning and form dates back to Middle English around the year 1300, from the Old French idiote ("uneducated or ignorant person"). The related word idiocy dates to 1487 and may have been analogously modeled on the words prophet and prophecy. The word has cognates in many other languages.An idiot in Athenian democracy was someone who was characterized by self-centeredness and concerned almost exclusively with private—as opposed to public—affairs. Idiocy was the natural state of ignorance into which all persons were born and its opposite, citizenship, was effected through formalized education.In Athenian democracy, idiots were born and citizens were made through education (although citizenship was also largely hereditary). "Idiot" originally referred to "layman, person lacking professional skill", "person so mentally deficient as to be incapable of ordinary reasoning". Declining to take part in public life, such as democratic government of the polis (city state), was considered dishonorable. "Idiots" were seen as having bad judgment in public and political matters. Over time, the term "idiot" shifted away from its original connotation of selfishness and came to refer to individuals with overall bad judgment–individuals who are "stupid". According to the Bauer-Danker Lexicon, the noun ίδιωτής in ancient Greek meant "civilian" (ref Josephus Bell 2 178), "private citizen" (ref sb 3924 9 25), "private soldier as opposed to officer," (Polybius 1.69), "relatively unskilled, not clever," (Herodotus 2,81 and 7 199).The military connotation in Bauer's definition stems from the fact that ancient Greek armies in the time of total war mobilized all male citizens (to the age of 50) to fight, and many of these citizens tended to fight poorly and ignorantly.In modern English usage, the terms "idiot" and "idiocy" describe an extreme folly or stupidity, and its symptoms (foolish or stupid utterance or deed). In psychology, it is a historical term for the state or condition now called profound mental retardation.Okay, if you have actually read what I told you, then you should be getting my point now, if not you are probably an Idi... uhm.. You have different opinions than me, and I respect that.

You can no longer comment on this thread as it was closed due to no activity for a month.

Devious Comments

John--Vincent Featured By Owner Mar 9, 2013   Traditional Artist
What is this? That stickman deviant's blocklist?
Cindertwig Featured By Owner Mar 4, 2013
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborumLorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborumLorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborumLorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborumLorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborumLorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborumLorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborumLorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum and so on.

Sauti-Alamisi Featured By Owner Mar 3, 2013  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
The furry fandom is a subculture interested in fictional anthropomorphic animal characters with human personalities and characteristics. Examples of anthropomorphic attributes include exhibiting human intelligence and facial expressions, the ability to speak, walk on two legs, and wear clothes. Furry fandom is also used to refer to the community of people who gather on the Internet and at conventions. According to fandom historian Fred Patten, the concept of furry originated at a science fiction convention in 1980, when a character drawing from Steve Gallacci’s Albedo Anthropomorphics started a discussion of anthropomorphic characters in science fiction novels. This led to the formation of a discussion group that met at science fiction and comics conventions. The specific term furry fandom was being used in fanzines as early as 1983, and had become the standard name for the genre by the mid-1990s, when it was defined as "the organized appreciation and dissemination of art and prose regarding 'Furries', or fictional mammalian anthropomorphic characters." However, fans consider the origins of furry fandom to be much earlier, with fictional works such as Kimba, The White Lion released in 1965, Richard Adams' novel Watership Down, published in 1972 (and its 1978 film adaptation), as well as Disney's Robin Hood as oft-cited examples. To distinguish these personae from seriously depicted animal characters, such as Lassie or Old Yeller, cartoon animals are referred to as funny animals, a term that came into use in the 1910s.During the 1980s, furry fans began to publish fanzines, developing a diverse social group that eventually began to schedule social gatherings. By 1987, there was sufficient interest to stage the first furry convention. Throughout the next decade, the Internet became accessible to the general population and became the most popular means for furry fans to socialize. The newsgroup was created in November 1990, and virtual environments such as MUCKs also became popular places on the Internet for fans to meet and communicate. The furry fandom is male-dominated, with surveys reporting around 80% male respondents. In Japan, the fandom and artwork is known as kemono (ケモノ?, from the Japanese for beast [獣], but always written in katakana). Allegorical novels (including works of both science fiction and fantasy) and cartoons featuring anthropomorphic animals are often cited as the earliest inspiration for the fandom. A survey conducted in 2007 suggested that, when compared to a non-furry control group, a higher proportion of those self-identifying as furries liked cartoons "a great deal" as children and recalled watching them significantly more often, as well as being more likely to enjoy works of science fiction than those outside of the community. Most furries believe that visual art, conventions, literature, and online communities are strongly important to the fandom. Some furry fans create and wear costumes, commonly known as fursuits, of their characters.
Fans with craft skills create their own plush toys, sometimes referred to as plushies, and also build elaborate costumes called fursuits, which are worn for fun or to participate in parades, convention masquerades, dances, or fund-raising charity events (as entertainers). Fursuits range from designs featuring simple construction and resembling sports mascots to those with more sophisticated features that include moving jaw mechanisms, animatronic parts, prosthetic makeup, and other features. Fursuits range in price from $500, for mascot-like designs, to an upwards of $10,000 for models incorporating animatronics. While about 80% of furries do not own a full fursuit, often citing their expensive cost as the decisive factor, a majority of them hold positive feelings towards fursuiters and the conventions in which they participate. Some fans may also wear "partial" suits consisting simply of ears and a tail, or a head, paws, and a tail. Furry fans also pursue puppetry, recording videos and performing live shows such as Rapid T. Rabbit and Friends and the Funday PawPet Show, and create furry accessories, such as ears or tails. Anthropomorphic animal characters created by furry fans, known as fursonas, are used for role-playing in MUDs, on internet forums, or on electronic mailing lists. A variety of species are employed as the basis of these personas, although many furries (for example over 60% of those surveyed in 2007) choose to identify themselves with carnivorans. The longest-running online furry role-playing environment is FurryMUCK, although it has been eclipsed in the area of text-mode role-playing by Tapestries MUCK. Another popular online furry social game is called Furcadia, created by Dragon's Eye Productions. There are also several furry-themed areas and communities in the virtual world Second Life. Role-playing also takes place offline, with petting, hugging and "scritching" (light scratching and grooming) common between friends at social gatherings. Fursuits or furry accessories are sometimes used to enhance the experience. Sufficient interest and membership has enabled the creation of many furry conventions in North America and Europe. A furry convention is for the fans get together to buy and sell artwork, participate in workshops, wear costumes, and socialize. The world's largest furry convention, Anthrocon with more than 4,000 participants, held annually in Pittsburgh in June, was estimated to have generated approximately $3 million to Pittsburgh's economy in 2008. Another convention, Further Confusion, held in San Jose each January, closely follows Anthrocon in scale and attendance. US$470,000 was raised in conventions for charity from 2000–9. The first known furry convention, ConFurence, is no longer held; Califur has replaced it, as both conventions were based in Southern California. A University of California, Davis survey suggested that about 40% of furries had attended at least one furry convention. The Internet contains a multitude of furry websites and online communities, such as art community websites Fur Affinity, Inkbunny, SoFurry and Furocity; social networking sites Furry 4 Life and FurNation; and WikiFur, a collaborative furry wiki. These, with the IRC networks FurNet and Anthrochat, form a key part of furry fandom. Newsgroups like, popular from the mid-1990s to 2005, have been replaced by topic-specific forums, mailing lists and LiveJournal communities. There are several webcomics featuring animal characters created by or for furry fans; as such, they may be referred to as furry comics. One such comic, T.H.E. Fox, was first published on CompuServe in 1986, predating the World Wide Web by several years, while another, Kevin and Kell by Bill Holbrook, has been awarded both a Web Cartoonists' Choice Award and an Ursa Major Award. The phrases furry lifestyle and furry lifestyler first appeared in July 1996 on the newsgroup during an ongoing dispute within that online community. The Usenet newsgroup was created to accommodate discussion beyond furry art and literature, and to resolve disputes concerning what should or should not be associated with the fandom; its members quickly adopted the term furry lifestylers, and still consider the fandom and the lifestyle to be separate social entities. They have defined and adopted an alternative meaning of the word furry specific to this group: "a person with an important emotional/spiritual connection with an animal or animals, real, fictional or symbolic." In their 2007 survey, Gerbasi et al. examined what it meant to be a furry, and proposed a taxonomy in which to categorise different "types" of furries. The largest group — 38% of those surveyed — described their interest in furry fandom predominately as a "route to socializing with others who share common interests such as anthropomorphic art and costumes." However they also identified furries who saw themselves as "other than human", and/or who desired to become more like the furry species which they identified with. According to four different surveys, 14–25% of the fandom members report homosexuality, 37–52% bisexuality, 28–51% heterosexuality, and 3–8% other forms of alternative sexual relationships. Of the furry fans that reported being in a relationship (approximately half of the surveyed population), 76% were in a relationship with another member of furry fandom. Examples of sexual aspects within furry fandom include erotic art and furry-themed cybersex. The term "yiff" is most commonly used to indicate sexual activity or sexual material within the fandom—this applies to sexual activity and interaction within the subculture whether in the form of cybersex or offline. Sexual attraction to furry characters is a polarized issue within the fandom; in one survey with 4300 furry respondents, 37% answered that sexual attraction is important in their furry activities, 38% were ambivalent, and 24% answered that it has little or nothing to do with their furry activities. In a different online survey, 33% of furry respondents answered that they have a "significant sexual interest in furry", another 46% stated they have a "minor sexual interest in furry", and the remaining 21% stated they have a "non-sexual interest in furry". The survey specifically avoided adult-oriented websites to prevent bias. A portion of the fandom is sexually interested in zoophilia, or in fursuiting, although a majority take a negative stance towards the former. In a survey conducted by David J. Rust in 1997-1998, about 2% of furry respondents stated an interest in zoophilia, and less than 1% an interest in plushophilia, though the survey's accompanying study doesn't comment on these results, and in another survey in 2008 attempting to replicate the results, 17% of respondents reported zoophilia. The survey's accompanying study suggested that the older, lower results were due to respondents being susceptible to social desirability bias. Early portrayal of the furries in magazines such as Loaded, Vanity Fair, and the syndicated sex column "Savage Love" focused mainly on the sexual aspect of furry fandom. Fictional portrayals of furry fandom have appeared on television shows such as ER, CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, The Drew Carey Show, Sex2K on MTV, Entourage, 1000 Ways to Die, and 30 Rock. Most furry fans claim that these media portrayals are misconceptions, while the recent coverage focuses on debunking myths and stereotypes that have come to be associated with the furry fandom. A reporter attending Anthrocon 2006 noted that "despite their wild image from Vanity Fair, MTV and CSI, furry conventions aren't about kinky sex between weirdos gussied up in foxy costumes", that conference attendees were "not having sex more than the rest of us", and that the furry convention was about "people talking and drawing animals and comic-book characters in sketchbooks. In October 2007, a Hartford Advocate reporter attended FurFright 2007 undercover because of media restrictions. She learned that the restrictions were intended to prevent misinformation, and reported that the scandalous behavior she had expected was not evident. Recent coverage of the furry fandom has been more balanced. According to Ian Wolf, a 2009 article from the BBC entitled "Who are the furries?" was the first piece of journalism to be nominated for an Ursa Major Award, the main awards given in the field of anthropomorphism. Milwaukee Brewers broadcaster Jim Powell was sharing a hotel with Anthrocon 2007 attendees a day before the convention and reported a negative opinion of the furries. Several downtown Pittsburgh businesses welcome furries during the event, with local business owners creating special T-shirts and drawing paw prints in chalk outside their shops to attract attendees. Dr. Samuel Conway, CEO of Anthrocon, said that "For the most part, people give us curious stares, but they're good-natured curious stares. We're here to have fun, people have fun having us here, everybody wins". According to Furry survey, about half of furries perceive public reaction to the fandom as negative; less than a fifth stated that the public responded to them more negatively than they did most furries. Furry fans' belief that they will be portrayed as "mainly obsessed with sex" has led to mistrust of the media and social researchers.
taste-of-teal Featured By Owner Mar 3, 2013
Ceibita Featured By Owner Mar 2, 2013
I bet walls of text in Chinese are 100x scarier.
ShadowMaker-241 Featured By Owner Mar 3, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
一個牆上的文字是,在最令人難以接受的,其實幾乎所有的互聯網社會,包括論壇,聊天板和偽基百科。你不應該做牆的文本,因為它可以讓你禁止在任何地方,除非它是一個地方,鼓勵牆壁的文字。我很懷疑任何地方不支持的刺激性和惱人的,但任何的東西可以存在,但不是真的,因為除非你是在天上,然後可能會發生。但居然沒有一個人知道,這僅僅是一個假設,這是一個跛腳的。其實不是真的瘸了。您可以創建一個網站的文字牆,但如果你這樣做,你會恨,不這樣做。但是你可以,​​如果你喜歡,但我勸阻了。現在的實際牆的文本信息。牆上的文字發明了上網的時候被發明,但實際上當時它是緩慢的。因此,一旦它變得快。但有需要的人一些自由或不自由的社會,而社會能夠有牆壁的文字。但是,社區可能不會實際上已經發明了牆上的文字。因此,基本上,除了上帝和戈爾沒有人知道何時何地或如何牆上的文字存在/被發明。 NOOBS可能發明的,但可能不是。誰知道。文本的牆壁通常是充滿了大量的無用信息和垃圾。信息和垃圾可以是相同的,但如果是垃圾信息或垃圾信息。但是誰在乎呢。內牆上的文字信息/垃圾的地方位於牆上的文字,但最好牆的文字,這實際上是最讓人頭疼的,最吸引眼球的出血的,是完全隨機的。牆的文本通常可以使的讀者asplode或他們的眼睛流血,掉出各自的插槽中。有許多人可以忍受,但無法讀取它們。其實,有些人可以站在他們。這些人沒有短的注意力。這些枯燥,有耐心的人有沒有生命在自己手中所有的時間,這是相同的,但不是真的。什麼樣的文字牆的處罰各不相同的嚴格的社會。但它並不重要。無人問津。文本的城牆遺址的整體目的的罵名牆壁的文本,因為它應該是免費的環節,不同的字體顏色,奇怪的字符,這是那些在社會中的其他符號,大寫字母。這使得他們看起來他媽的愚蠢和怪異的。文本的牆顯然是巨大的空間和出色的事情,比如大寫字母。當然,第絕不應的壁中的文本。壁是已知的文本創建噁心,混亂,頭爆炸,和其他。其他的東西,我不認為或者是因為我懶,如果我不喜歡它,我不能想到的任何東西。喜歡什麼他媽的?這是一個反問。怎麼回事?你實際上是沒有要求一個滿意的答复,你剛才說,因為你嘗試很有趣,或者你覺得喜歡它,如果你生氣。你必須得到適當的母狗打耳光停止牆的文字,但如果你是奇怪的,並不適用於您。刪除或分割成段的文字被擊敗的牆壁。或者一些其他的東西,將工作,但將需要幾個小時才能想到。人們被認為是滋擾,如果他們創造文字的牆壁。這可能是結束。如果你希望這是最後,我不知道。但是,如果我不知道,那麼我不會說。我應該知道。或者我應該嗎?做一個更好的和牆上的文字是最好的方法,複製並粘貼您先前輸入的或寫的。嘿,這讓我想起了。牆的文本並不總是在互聯網上!它們可以在任何地方,能夠以產生符號。 D'哦。一個牆上的文字是,在最令人難以接受的,其實幾乎所有的互聯網社會,包括論壇,聊天板和偽基百科。你不應該做牆的文本,因為它可以讓你禁止在任何地方,除非它是一個地方,鼓勵牆壁的文字。我很懷疑任何地方不支持的刺激性和惱人的,但任何的東西可以存在,但不是真的,因為除非你是在天上,然後可能會發生。但居然沒有一個人知道,這僅僅是一個假設,這是一個跛腳的。其實不是真的瘸了。您可以創建一堵牆的文本支持網站,但你會恨如果你這樣做,所以不要。但是你可以,​​如果你喜歡,但我勸阻了。現在的實際牆的文本信息。牆上的文字發明了上網的時候被發明,但實際上當時它是緩慢的。因此,一旦它變得快。但有需要的人一些自由或不自由的社會,而社會能夠有牆壁的文字。但是,社區可能不會實際上已經發明了牆上的文字。因此,基本上,除了上帝和戈爾沒有人知道何時何地或如何牆上的文字存在/被發明。 NOOBS可能發明的,但可能不是。誰知道。文本的牆壁通常是充滿了大量的無用信息和垃圾。信息和垃圾可以是相同的,但如果是垃圾信息或垃圾信息。但是誰在乎呢。內牆上的文字信息/垃圾的地方位於牆上的文字,但最好牆的文字,這實際上是最讓人頭疼的,最吸引眼球的出血的,是完全隨機的。牆的文本通常可以使的讀者asplode或他們的眼睛流血,掉出各自的插槽中。有許多人可以忍受,但無法讀取它們。其實,有些人可以站在他們。這些人沒有短的注意力。這些枯燥,有耐心的人有沒有生命在自己手中所有的時間,這是相同的,但不是真的。什麼樣的文字牆的處罰各不相同的嚴格的社會。但它並不重要。無人問津。文本的城牆遺址的整體目的的罵名牆壁的文本,因為它應該是免費的環節,不同的字體顏色,奇怪的字符,這是那些在社會中的其他符號,大寫字母。這使他們看起來他媽的愚蠢的,奇怪的和愚蠢的。文本的牆顯然是巨大的空間和出色的事情,比如大寫字母。當然,第絕不應的壁中的文本。壁是已知的文本創建噁心,混亂,頭爆炸,和其他。其他的東西,我不認為或者是因為我懶,如果我不喜歡它,我不能想到的任何東西。喜歡什麼他媽的?這是一個反問。怎麼回事?你實際上是沒有要求一個滿意的答复,你剛才說,因為你嘗試很有趣,或者你覺得喜歡它,如果你生氣。現在,我只是複製和粘貼的部分,這巨大的牆上的文字,這實際上是不。等待什麼呢?很高興吧? BA吊桿反問。這是結束的理智你的眼睛嗎?你他媽的做什麼實際讀取到了這裡?還是你跳到接近尾聲,並讀取此?無論哪種方式,你在生活中失敗。只是在開玩笑。是我嗎?哦。恭喜你,還是不行,其實不然。現在的生活。我生活在eBay上發現了一個便宜的,但便宜的生活中是罕見的。好了,找到一個好運氣。不!好了去殺死自己,但我並沒有這意味著。所以,坐在你的房子的角落裡。我不關心,只是呆在那裡和腐爛。如果你不是在一個地方的一個角落裡,然後你真幸運。如果你能找到一個。有沒有其他選擇,因為我說的話。現在,如果你委屈了自己最喜歡做的閱讀,然後做一些富有成效和有益的環境。我的天啊。好了,這是我在這裡。我開始一個新的這篇文章部分。我沒有在這上面的文章在這裡讀什麼,但請不要介意,因為我有重要的事情說了,你真的要讀。因此,只要跳過上述一切,只是來的這部分,並開始閱讀和同意。牆上的文字發明的工程師使用打字機。一切都在,因為它是由打字機,打字機字體( - 還記得當我解釋說,在前面的句子嗎?)和點使用的所有紙張,由於紙張是非常昂貴的,它剛剛被發明,我認為。所以無論如何,這一點是沒有利潤的頂部或底部或側面。如果你離開四分之一英寸的紙張的兩面,這是非常不好的。指導原則是:“這是很難寫的,所以它應該是很難讀”。因為他們是軟件工程師,而不是寫工程師。即使是有這樣的事情的書面工程師嗎?也許吧。但無論如何,請回到本文開頭的讀一遍。後約你讀它,你會得到一點。 10至15倍。 OK,你現在還好嗎?好。現在,讓我們說實話 - 你不讀了這一步。是你嗎?沒有人會讀這一步,除非他們是一個瘋狂的人。你是一個瘋狂的人嗎?你可能會。現在,我害怕 - 這是只有我一個人,一個瘋狂的人。沒有其他人讀這一步,只是你,所以只有我們兩個人單獨聚集在這裡。你打算做一些瘋狂的嗎?也許你會。請不要傷害我。如果你能保證不傷害我,我給一個免費的大滿貫丹尼的早餐優惠券好。 OK?現在只是做這一件事情對我來說,閱讀文章再次,只是一個更多的時間,而如果你真的真的不同意一切,那麼好,我會從我的工作與退休的鐵路和我們“會打電話給整個事情,只是去跳舞,只有兩個人使用,我(作者),你(完全隨機的瘋狂的人,實際上已經讀了這一步),男孩將我們不回頭,當我們查看Donner黨與整個洛克菲勒中心(Rockefeller Center)在拖!我們將整夜跳舞株檸檬吹笛,而意大利的第12裝甲師防止盟軍從我們的後方衝斷成!啊,我們會做什麼回憶,我永遠不會忘記你的,我完全瘋了素不相識的人。順便說一下,這是壯觀的例子牆上的文字。你必須要驕傲你讀它。現在,請再次閱讀文章,這個時候要注意。
Ceibita Featured By Owner Mar 3, 2013
ShadowMaker-241 Featured By Owner Mar 3, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
ContradictingCats Featured By Owner Mar 2, 2013  Student Artist
So I walked over to click this and expected a really short complaint to tell people to stop making walls of text. I did not get what I expected. Then I proceed to chuckle quietly to myself at this insane wall of text because it's exactly why the complaint is. Now I understand you've filled your wall of text with random stuff, so I must do the same. Here, I'll just stick my cat on the keyboard: My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt - sleeveless, white eyelet lace; I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a parka. In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America. It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent shade that my mother escaped with me when I was only a few months old. It was in this town that I'd been compelled to spend a month every summer until I was fourteen. That was the year I finally put my foot down; these past three summers, my dad, Charlie, vacationed with me in California for two weeks instead. It was to Forks that I now exiled myself - an action that I took with great horror. I detested Forks. I loved Phoenix. I loved the sun and the blistering heat. I loved the vigorous, sprawling city. "Bella," my mom said to me - the last of a thousand times - before I got on the plane. "You don't have to do this." My mom looks like me, except with short hair and laugh lines. I felt a spasm of panic as I stared at her wide, childlike eyes. How could I leave my loving, erratic, hair-brained mother to fend for herself? Of course she had Phil now, so the bills would probably get paid, there would be food in the refrigerator, gas in her car, and someone to call when she got lost, but still... "I want to go," I lied. I'd always been a bad liar, but I'd been saying this lie so frequently lately that it sounded almost convincing now. "Tell Charlie I said hi." "I will." "I'll see you soon," she insisted. "You can come home whenever you want - I'll come right back as soon as you need me." But I could see the sacrifice in her eyes behind the promise. "Don't worry about me," I urged. "It'll be great. I love you, Mom." She hugged my tightly for a minute, and then I got on the plane, and she was gone. It's a four-hour flight from Phoenix to Seattle, another hour in a small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive back down to Forks. Flying doesn't bother me; the hour in the car with Charlie, though, I was a little worried about. Charlie had really been fairly nice about the whole thing. He seemed genuinely please that I was comeing to live with him for the first time with any degree of permanence. He'd already gotten me registered for high school and was going to help me get a car. But it was sure to be awkward with Charlie. Neither of us was what anyone would call verbose, and I didn't know what there was to say regardless. I knew he was more than a little confused by my decision - like my mother before me, I hadn't made a secret of my distaste for Forks. When I landed in Port Angeles, it was raining. I didn't see it as an omen - just unavoidable. I'd already said my goodbyes to the sun. Charlie was waiting for me with the cruiser. This I was expecting, too. Charlie is Police Cheif Swan to the good people of Forks. My primary motivation behind buying a car, despite the scarcity of my funds, was that I refused to be driven around town in a car with red and blue lights on top. Nothing slows traffic down like a cop. Charlie gave me an awkward, one-armed hug when I stumbled my way off the plane. "It's good to see you, Bells," he said, smiling as he automatically caught and steadied me. "You haven't changed much. How's Renee?" "Mom's fine. It's good to see your, too, Dad." I wasn't allowed to call him Charlie to his face. I had only a few bags. Most of my Arizona clothes were too permeable for Washington. My mom and I had pooled our resources to supplement my winter wardrobe, but it was still scanty. It all fit easily into the trunck of the cruiser. "I found a good car for you, really cheap," he announced when we were strapped in. "What kind of car?" I was suspicious of the way he said "good car for you" as opposed to just "good car." "Well, it's a truck actually, a Chevy." "Where did you find it?" "Do you remember Billy Black from La Push?" La Push is the tiny Indian reservation on the coast. "No."
WalkingRen Featured By Owner Mar 2, 2013
ShadowMaker-241 Featured By Owner Mar 2, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
A wall of text is something that is frowned upon in most, actually virtually all Internet societies, including forums, chat boards, and Uncyclopedia. You should not make walls of text because it can get you banned anywhere unless it is a place that encourages walls of text. I highly doubt any place does support something so irritating and annoying, but anything can exist, but not really because unless you are in heaven then that can happen. But no one actually knows that was just a hypothesis, a lame one that is. Actually not really lame. You can create a wall of text supporting site, but you would be hated if you do that, so do not. But you can if you like, but I discourage that. Now on to the actual information of walls of texts. The wall of text was invented when the Internet was invented, but actually it was slow at that time. So whenever it became fast. But there would need to be some free or not free community for people, and that community would be able to have walls of text. But that community probably wouldn't have actually invented the wall of text. So basically, no one except God and Al Gore knows when or where or how the wall of text existed/was invented. Noobs probably invented, but probably not. Who knows. Walls of texts are usually filled with a lot of useless information and junk. Information and junk can be the same, but only if the information is junk or the junk is information. But who cares. The information/junk inside a wall of text are usually related to wherever the wall of text is located, but the best walls of text, which are actually the most irritating, most eye-bleeding ones, are completely random. Walls of text usually make the reader asplode or have their eyes bleed and fall out of their sockets. A number of people can stand it, but not read them. Actually some people can stand and read them. Those people do not have short attention spans. These are boring and patient people who have no life or have all the time in their hands, which are the same, but not really. The punishment of what making walls of text varies of the strictness of the community. But it doesn't really matter. Nobody cares. Walls of texts should be free of links, different font colors, strange characters, which are those other symbols used in society, and capital letters because it ruins the whole purpose of the infamy of walls of texts. It makes them look fucking dumb and weird. Walls of texts are obviously free of huge spaces and outstanding things like capital letters. Of course, paragraphs should never be in a wall of text. Walls of text are known to create nausea, confusion, head explosion, and others. The others being something I can not think of either because I am lazy or if I do not feel like it or I can not actually think of anything. Like what the fuck? That was a rhetorical question right there. What the fuck? You are actually not requesting a satisfactory answer, you just say that because you try to be funny or you feel like it or if you are pissed off. You must get a proper bitch-slapping to stop making walls of text, but if you are weird then that doesn't apply to you. Walls of text are defeated by deleting them or splitting them into paragraphs. Or some other things that would work but will take hours to think of. People are considered a nuisance if they create walls of text. This might be the end. If you hope this is the end, I am not sure. But if I was not sure then I wouldn't be talking. I should know. Or should I? The best way to make a better and good wall of text is to copy and paste what you previously typed or write. Hey, that reminds me. Walls of text aren't always on the internet! They could be anywhere that is able to produce symbols. D'oh. A wall of text is something that is frowned upon in most, actually virtually all Internet societies, including forums, chat boards, and Uncyclopedia. You should not make walls of text because it can get you banned anywhere unless it is a place that encourages walls of text. I highly doubt any place does support something so irritating and annoying, but anything can exist, but not really because unless you are in heaven then that can happen. But no one actually knows that was just a hypothesis, a lame one that is. Actually not really lame. You can created a wall of text supporting site, but you would be hated if you do that, so do not. But you can if you like, but I discourage that. Now on to the actual information of walls of texts. The wall of text was invented when the Internet was invented, but actually it was slow at that time. So whenever it became fast. But there would need to be some free or not free community for people, and that community would be able to have walls of text. But that community probably wouldn't have actually invented the wall of text. So basically, no one except God and Al Gore knows when or where or how the wall of text existed/was invented. Noobs probably invented, but probably not. Who knows. Walls of texts are usually filled with a lot of useless information and junk. Information and junk can be the same, but only if the information is junk or the junk is information. But who cares. The information/junk inside a wall of text are usually related to wherever the wall of text is located, but the best walls of text, which are actually the most irritating, most eye-bleeding ones, are completely random. Walls of text usually make the reader asplode or have their eyes bleed and fall out of their sockets. A number of people can stand it, but not read them. Actually some people can stand and read them. Those people do not have short attention spans. These are boring and patient people who have no life or have all the time in their hands, which are the same, but not really. The punishment of what making walls of text varies of the strictness of the community. But it doesn't really matter. Nobody cares. Walls of texts should be free of links, different font colors, strange characters, which are those other symbols used in society, and capital letters because it ruins the whole purpose of the infamy of walls of texts. It makes them look fucking dumb and weird and dumb. Walls of texts are obviously free of huge spaces and outstanding things like capital letters. Of course, paragraphs should never be in a wall of text. Walls of text are known to create nausea, confusion, head explosion, and others. The others being something I can not think of either because I am lazy or if I do not feel like it or I can not actually think of anything. Like what the fuck? That was a rhetorical question right there. What the fuck? You are actually not requesting a satisfactory answer, you just say that because you try to be funny or you feel like it or if you are pissed off. Now I just copied and pasted part of this huge wall of text, which is actually not. Wait what? Nice right? Ba boom a rhetorical question right there. Is this the end for the sanity of your eyes? What the fuck did you actually read up to here? Or did you skip to near the end and read this? Either way, you fail in life. Just kidding. Or was I? Oh well. Congratulations, or not, actually not. Get a life right now. I found a cheap life on eBay, but cheap lives are rare. Well, good luck in finding one. Not! Okay go kill yourself, but I wasn't meaning that. So go sit in the corner in your house. I do not care which, just stay there and rot. If you are not in a place with a corner, then lucky you. Find one if you can. There is no other option because I said so. Now if you pity yourself for reading this like most do, then do something productive and useful to the environment. My goodness. OK this is me here. I am starting a new section of this article. I didn't read anything in this article above here, but nevermind, because I have something important to say, and you really have to read this. So just skip everything above and just come to this part and start reading and agreeing. The wall of text was invented by engineers using typewriters. Everything was in typewriter font (because it was made on typewriters - remember when I explained that in the previous sentence?) and the point was to use all of the paper, because paper was very expensive back then, it had just been invented I think. So anyway, the point was, no margins at the top or bottom or sides. If you left a quarter inch on the sides of the paper, that was very bad. And the guiding principle was "This was hard to write, so it should be hard to read". Because they were software engineers, not writing engineers. Is there even such a thing a writing engineers? Probably. But anyway, please go back to the top of this article and read it over again. You'll get the point after you read it for approx. 10 to 15 times. OK have you done that now? Good. Now let's be honest - you're not reading down this far. Are you? Nobody would read down this far, unless they were a crazy person. Are you a crazy person? You might be. Now I'm afraid - it's just me alone with a crazy person. No one else has read down this far, just you, so it's just the two of us alone together here. Are you going to do something crazy? Maybe you will. Please don't hurt me. If you promise not to hurt me, I'll give a coupon good for a free Grand Slam Breakfast at Denny's. OK? Now just do this one thing for me, read the article over again, just one more time, and if you really truly don't agree with everything in it, then fine, I'll retire from my job with the railroad and we'll call the whole thing off and just go dancing, just the two of use, me (the writer) and you (a completely random crazy person who has actually read down this far), and boy won't we turn heads when we show up at Rockefeller Center with the entire Donner Party in tow! We'll dance all night to strains of the Lemon Pipers while the Italian 12th Armored Division prevents the Allies from thrusting into our rear! Ah, what memories we'll make, I'll never forget you, my completely insane random person. By the way this is magnificent example of wall of text. You have to be proud you read it all. Now please read article again, and this time pay attention.
Fiction-Works Featured By Owner Mar 1, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Um. What did I just step into?
Solum-Ipsum Featured By Owner Feb 28, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
deviant-garde Featured By Owner Feb 26, 2013
This forum has become very bored.
Jellybean9000 Featured By Owner Feb 26, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Holy sweet mother of crap, that is long... :iconohnoesplz:
PuzzledHeartBox Featured By Owner Feb 26, 2013
"Geoffrey and Henrietta", by ~Angelpussy and *PuzzledHeartBox. Original can be found here: [link]

Like a brass bra in winter who had gone unwashed for what seemed like a century,
Henrietta stared at the moon while thinking of her husband, Geoffrey.
How her husband never complained much, not even about her lingering odour of decay.
Still, she had been dead for nearly a week, so some odour was to be expected.
He suffocated her, and started brewing a new perfume with her remains;
He was going to call it Espirit de Corpse.
Something so ridiculously special and delicious that even Channel N°5 would smell ordinary.
He rubbed his hands together and thought of the riches he would accumulate. After all, he could just farm the production out to some third-world country and then watch the profits mount up. He was so excited that he nearly orgasmed.
He shouted for joy as he pulled his dead wife out of the water tank, spinning her around and dancing. Her eyes, all watery and black, started twinkling underneath the starlight. Her head tilted over during his attempted lift and fell off, hitting him on the head.
Suffering mild concussion, he took a bunch of clothes pegs and proceeded to hang his wife from the linen line to dry, then put the head on the mantelpiece so he could still see her beautiful smile every day.
He then proceeded to light some candles, and continued reading his book "Taxidermy for Dummies".
"It's about time I changed her eyes," he thought, "they're turning into a mushy goo with a most awful smell."
Marbles would be the ideal choice, the candlelight would make them appear alive.
Being a rather elderly bachelor, he was fairly wealthy and so decided to drive his Lotus into the nearest town to find a toy store where he could buy some marbles; however, on his way to the shop he was distracted by a giant balloon.
He smashed his beautiful Lotus through the shop's window,
killing the shopkeeper and 3 customers.
He swiftly took the needed marbles and backed up his car, leaving shopkeeper parts everywhere.
By the time he maneuvered the car out of the shop, the balloon was gone.
Muttering to himself, he drove home, only to realise when he got there that he'd stolen the wrong kind of marbles. D'oh! Still his wife's head would be stuffed before teatime and the eyes replaced with the black and pink striped marbles.
As he sat down to marvel at his handiwork, he glanced at the TV where a news helicopter was filming a street below. Parked on that street was a Lotus with a trail of broken glass leading up to it. He froze in desperate fear with two choices foremost in his mind, to hide the precious head or to hide his wife's body again, which was still outside drying off...
Shocked by this turn of events he quickly stood up, grabbed the head,
Placed it gently in the kitchen cupboard and kissed it on the forehead before closing the cupboard door.
He then proceeded through the house opening one door and closing another to then eventually arrive in his garden.
His heart jumped for joy, for the body was still there, decomposing and creating a lovely atmosphere.
He gently removed the body from its pegs and placed it over his shoulders, the bodily fluids quickly staining his shirt and pants.
He then walked back into the house, casting a quick glance into his garden to see if he didn't forget any part of her. He had it all, every last piece of her, but to his great surprise, the mysterious balloon was once again visible.
Right there, floating above his garden, entrancing him.
Frozen in indecision, he heard a knock at his front door. That special knock used by the police.
Still entranced by the balloon, he shouted.. "Just a minute!"
He quickly ran down to his basement and placed his wife's body there, respectfully.
Upon his returning to his kitchen he could see the balloon was still there, hanging low, almost low enough for him to reach it.
Then it struck him, the sudden noise of wood being shattered. "That's the front door," he thought to himself.
Geoffrey tried to jump up and grab the balloon but it kept tantalisingly out of his reach.
"Enough of this shit," he muttered, and legged it back down to the basement. If he was going to be arrested, he'd want to be with his dear Henrietta.
Hearing the heavy knock-knock of police boots marching through his hose and no doubt leaving dirty marks on his expensive and highly-polished wooden floor, he lamented to himself that he'd not had time to set up the intricate anti-burglar system which by now would have led to at least one more death.
He huddled over his dead wife's body and tried to stay quiet. Had he locked the basement door? From this side? There was no time to check, he just had to wait it out.
The police started searching his house, from top to bottom, throwing everything around,
creating chaos in his once serene home.
Only just thinking about them touching it,
touching the place where she used to sit,
the place where her head used to rest, and gaze upon him.
He could feel the rage swell within him, fuelling his hatred for these pigs,
these fucking idiots who were about to ruin everything.
If only he had more time,
if only he placed his brutal anti-burglar system..
The noise increased, their footsteps became much more frequent.
Walking turned into running, and amidst the noise, screams were heard.
After several hours in hiding, Geoffrey was still not found. "Are they blind?" he thought to himself.
And then nothing more was heard, every sound had gone silent, no more footsteps, no more screams.
Only the smell of gorgeous blood penetrated his nose.
He kissed his wife, and thanked Satan for not being discovered. Slowly and carefully he walked up the stairs and quietly unlocked the basement door. Peeking out, he noticed that the police and news crews had left, but that his wonderful home that he had so many memories of, was practically destroyed.
He went out into the garden, and the balloon was still there. Seeing it clearly for the first time, he saw that it had "Fuck you" written on it. Shaking his head, he went to get his wife's corpse, which had now dried out and was starting to mummify. He also took her head and some industrial strength superglue.
He sat her up in the passenger seat of his Lotus, and used the superglue to fix her head back on. Jumping into the driver's seat, he gunned the engine and made a fast exit. Where would he go?
Sitting in his comfortable Lotus, wind in his hair,
He couldn't stop but think about the "Fuck You" Balloon.
What was it? Why did it keep appearing? Was someone stalking him?
All these questions and much more kept arising, but for now he was making his escape.
He turned around and gave Henrietta a nice big kiss,
and then continued his drive toward the north, he entered the Clearbridge tunnel.
Finally some shadow, the scorching heat was killing him, and it wasn't helping poor Henrietta either.
Upon his exit, the ominous balloon was there - again - hanging low,
and from it something was looking down at him; but what?
"Enough!" he said again, and screeched tyres to bring the car to a stop. Looking out of the window, he saw the balloon quite clearly. The 'Fuck You' was still there, but there was now a Gremlin holding on to the string and smiling at him.
Geoffrey took a deep breath in, and all he could smell was the New Car Smell and Henrietta's own blood - a tangy, metallic smell.
He tried to grab the balloon once again, but still couldn't. "Fuck," he said, "if it followed me out here it'll follow me wherever I go - and that Gremlin'll make a nice supper."
As he got back into his car, the Gremlin started to laugh. Now Geoffrey was used to people laughing at him - he had been a used-car salesman after all - but there was something off-putting about this laughter.
The laughter send shivers down his spine, it cut through bone and marrow.
Nothing like the normal types of laughter he was so accustomed to,
"Fuck you, fuck you and your stupid laugh," he was thinking.
He slowly walked back towards his car, didn't care to give the balloon a second glance.
And then he felt a sudden pain in his left leg,
He turned around only to see the gremlin sinking his teeth deeper into his flesh.
Just when he was about to grab the gremlin, it raced off, with a nice hunk of fresh meat,
torn from Geoffrey's leg. Geoffrey, infuriated, limped back into his car and started speeding.
"Destination : Anywhere but here," he thought.
Still angered and sickened at the sight of his own blood leaving his own leg, he turned his head to kiss Henrietta, only to notice her head had been taken.
By the time he finally processed the thought of someone stealing her head, the balloon was gone.
Geoffrey had a new mission in life: to find his dear wife's head. But before he could think of that he had to sort his leg out. He stopped in a lay-by, and tore a strip of his wife's skirt and used it to bandage his leg.
"That Gremlin was a bugger," he thought, as the bleeding finally stopped. Unfortunately, the bottom of the car was now stained with his blood - the metallic smell he loved so much.
After an hour of driving, Geoffrey came across a small motel at the side of the road. There was a house on the hill nearby, and he could see a curtain twitching as he pulled up.
"A room for two, please," he said to the clerk. After getting his keys he somehow managed to get Henrietta's headless corpse into his room.
What would he do now? Go back and face the music? Or keep travelling across the world and hope for redemption?
After a brief moment of respite, he came to the realization that hoping for redemption would be a foolish thing to do.
After all he knew how his Christian god works,
murder is a sin, one that cannot be forgiven.
He used to be a pious man, poor old Geoffrey, back in the days when he met his Henrietta.
She was singing in the church choir as one of the lead vocalists. He swore that day,
that he saw an angel, a sign from above. He continued to go to the church,
every day when she had to sing.
Eventually he could no longer hide his interest and love for her. So he slipped her a note on which he declared his love and devotion.
He told her nothing would keep them separated, not even death himself.
Then promised he'd always take care of her, even when she is no longer living.
"So you see, Geoffrey," he said to himself,
"You can't just ignore this and try to forget all about it.
Your angel has not only lost her wings, she's also deprived of her beauty.
The Gremlin claimed part of her as a wicked trophy, and who knows what he'll with it,
if you don't act accordingly."
And thus the decision was made, he'd face the Gremlin,
chase it throughout the entire world if necessary.
All to restore his deity to her former glory.
However, Geoffrey did not have far to go. As he drove away from the motel, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. The Gremlin was sitting on the back seat with its head out of the window, apparently enjoying the view. His wife's head was nowhere to be seen.
Setting cruise control, he slowly turned around in his seat and tried to make a grab for the Gremlin. It expertly avoided his tackle, and started laughing. Geoffrey felt pure rage, just as he had done when he'd strangled his wife. He leaned over to the glove box and pulled out a heavy and menacing looking pistol. The gremlin laughed again, then expertly punched out the glass and jumped out into the road.
Geoffrey stopped the car, then reversed at full speed back to where he thought the Gremlin was, only to hear an almighty crash. D'oh, he'd just reversed into a police car, and the gremlin was gone.
"For crying out loud.. curse me and my luck," Geoffrey said in a sarcastic tone.
The police officer steps out of his freshly hit vehicle and slowly moves towards the lotus,
Asking Geoffrey to politely and slowly step out of his car.
Geoffrey has no choice but to do as he is asked,
he stepped out, assuring the officer wouldn't see his gun.
It was laying on the backseat, right under a pillow.
They both proceed to the back of the Lotus.
As the officer begins searching him, a sudden surge of rage fills Geoffrey,
and he jumps in to the backseat, grabs his pistol and shoot the officer 3 times in the chest.
"That ought to do it," he mumbled.
He then proceeded in cutting off the officer's head and took it with him in the car.
He was in desperate need of company. Ever since poor Henrietta left him.
And once again the delightful metallic smell teased his nostrils.
"This will be a nice day!" Geoffrey thought to himself.
He then drove off at a monstrous speed,
in the hunt for the little devil and Henrietta's head.
After a few miles, he turned and looked at the officer's head. It was grinning at him in a way he was sure it hadn't been doing so when he took it.
As he drove on, he realised that his once beautiful car now seemed to resemble a rolling sneer, covered in dents and scrapes. He'd have to find another car from somewhere.
He stopped in a quiet lay-by, and propped his wife's body against the side of the car. He took the officer's head and tried to affix it to the body, but to no avail. Groaning inwardly, he went off into the bushes to take a piss.
When he got back to the car, the head was gone.
"For fuck's sake!" he shouted. Searching all-round the car, he couldn't find it, and was just about to explode when he heard laughing.
Once again the thief of heads, was making fun of Geoffrey,
Once again his laughing penetrated him into his very core.
But he wouldn't have it, he would get his hands on him, better sooner than later.
Armed with his trusty gun, he snuck back into the bushes. Awaiting the little demon spawn to reappear.
He could already imagine the Gremlin's head, aligning with his scope.
The muffled sound of bullet through skull, the sound of brains turning to a nice and mushy pulp.
Not only that. He could already imagine the lovely smell of blood on hot tarmac.
That smell of freshly shed blood on a summer's day.
It made his lip quiver with anticipation as his member was trembling in excitement.
This is what Geoffrey lived for, his elixir of life, his passion, his need, his drug.
And so he waited, lying in ambush.
Squinting ferociously, he made out the shape of the Gremlin's head in his sights. He pulled the trigger, and heard a satisfying sound. Walking over to claim his kill, he found the two missing heads along with the corpse of the gremlin.
"Bonus!" he exclaimed, and cut the gremlin's head off too. Carrying all three heads, he went back to his car, sat Henrietta up in the passenger seat, put her head back on, adjusted her dress, and drove off into the sunset.

Midnight Storm by *PuzzledHeartBox - [link]

And so they slowly moved towards the door, checking the lock, seeing if it's all still in place.
Between lightning and thunder, they heard a howl emerge, the neighbour's dog, lay there dead still in their backyard with its paws facing the starlit sky, smouldering, and the smell of burnt flesh quickly reached their nostrils.

They hastily ran back to their corner, and sat down facing their windows, swiftly looking across the room. Just in case someone or something where to break in - or who knows, it already did.
Because it's hard to tell between howling wind and breaking skies, if the sound was heard from the in or outside.
Father decided it would be best if they moved to the cellar, seeking refuge from the passing storm, ride it out, with only the gentle fading candlelight to accompany them.
The screeching noise they heard before persisted as ever, continuing its cries and pleas for help: something was going on this night, something wasn't right,
this storm and the weird occurrences. First the dead bodies on the street, now the dead dog in their backyard.
Seems this storm is hiding something, something foul - Something reeking of death and decay.
In all haste towards the cellar, their youngest one fell over the carpet, though he didn't mutter a single word nor cry. He remained silent like the body of a man locked in his grave,
petrified and scared out of his mind. He wanted his teddy bear, his faithful friend.
So instead of continuing towards the cellar he quickly ran up to his room. His parents in all haste failed to notice his disappearance,
not until they reached the cellar, not until the screeching ended, not until the darkness dissipated at the glimpse of their candlelight.
But never did their youngest know, he'd find more than his little teddy, he found the source of the screeching noise staring right into his soul,
piercing the boy's skin with its dreadful dead eyes, looking straight at him - whilst the screeching stopped, the scratching begun.
The beast's nails slid across the wooden floor leaving it's marks well visible. Dripping from its foul mouth the still warm blood staining the boy's best friend.
He screamed in anguish and anger, and then… such calming calm that it disturbed the silence.
No scratching, no screeching, only the dripping; with the resonance of the drops of vitality, tipping in irregular timing.
The boy's parents startled by the noise quickly ran up the cellar stairs seeking out their youngest, but the door wouldn't budge, it wouldn't move. And blood started slowly running down their stairs, accompanied with soft smothered cries.
And then it suddenly all stopped... nothing but a pure calming silence entered the room. The door finally gave way to their weight and they fell right onto the kitchen floor.
And then there was nothing more but the resonating drip.. drip.. drip..

Part II - [link]
The storm subsided; it's howls ended... and the house once again felt empty and safe...
Though - minus the blood and clutter filling their kitchen; their kitchen was completely demolished... Half of the wall leading to their garden was shattered to bits, pieces of wood penetrating the interior walls;
And the body of the neighbour's dog was displayed right in front of them, at the basement entrance.
The air again turned hot and dry.. Yet scented with fresh blood - an eerie feeling came over them as they realized, that during all this, their youngest one was still to be found....
Father quickly scanned the room, looking for a sturdy piece of wood, or a big kitchen knife that he could use as a weapon... for whatever it was that made the screeching noise.
He decided... the butcher's knife - his own personal favourite - would suffice; and they silently proceeded to their child's bedroom... That was the place where the sound originated from.
As they proceeded through the corridors, they could smell piss and blood mingled together;
Blood was still dripping from the ceiling and walls as if it was freshly applied paint;
Their precious Persian carpets completely ruined; and their antique cupboards were nothing but firewood now;
And then it resurfaced... that unbound fear for the dark... the ominous presence of a beast - a beast so ferocious and strong, that it could tear a grown man to bits in a mere second.
Thoughts of the street flashed back before his eyes; his adulterous mistress; his bowling pal;
All dead... all completely shredded... All their blood - stained the once calm streets of their ever so peaceful suburbs.
Nevertheless his fatherly instinct forced him to proceed, knowing the dangers that may lay in wait.
He promptly stepped over the carpet, refusing to stain his 150$ shoes with the blood and piss of another....
Mother stepped back as she watched him knock on the door : Knock, Knock, Knock… "Son? Are you there? Are you ok? Are you hurt?" Her husband shouted.
The room remained silent... the door opened... and their son uttered in a silent, scared yet glad voice "Mother!"
Mother, overwhelmed by motherly instincts... disregarded the possible threats, her survival instinct completely supressed by seeing her only son. She ran towards him at full speed...
And then it struck her.
The two eyes from the dark peering right into the depths of her soul, petrifying her with fear.
They were fixed upon her, and only upon her. Those dead empty hollow eyes... The sound of blood dripping resonated in her ears. Drip.. Drip.. Drip.. as her mind envisioned her falling in a pool of blood, drowning her.
For a brief moment she regained her own consciousness no longer hypnotized by those eyes.
And she looked down to where her stomach is...
only to see it penetrated by a long dark venomous spear like object that seemed to be attached to the creature, It appeared it could manipulate its body freely.
Blood rushed to her mouth, filled her lungs as her innards bled out, and she collapsed.
... Only to hear a last smothered cry "MmmoooooOTHERrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!"
Bytestream Featured By Owner Feb 26, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
ITT: Wikipedia
PurpleAmharicCoffee Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2013
I have a newly built wall. How do I convince the system that it isn't spam?
Cosmic-doodle Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2013  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Everything about this thread scares me.
MasterPlanner Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2013  Professional Artisan Crafter
The Galactic Empire is one of the main factions in the fictional universe of Star Wars. It is a galaxy-spanning regime established by the series' lead villain, Palpatine, to replace the Galactic Republic in Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith. The Galactic Empire is introduced in Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope. The Empire also appears in Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back, and in Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi and are the main antagonist in all three films.
The Empire's origins are explained in Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, where it replaces the Galactic Republic in the midst of a galactic civil war orchestrated by Palpatine, then the Republic's Supreme Chancellor. Palpatine is also secretly the Sith Lord Darth Sidious who intends to purge the Jedi and restore the Sith to power in the galaxy. Palpatine's Sith identity is only known by a small few throughout his life. Palpatine claims that the Jedi attempted to assassinate him and overthrow the Galactic Senate and declares the Jedi to have committed treason. Palpatine declares that the civil war with the separatists in combination with the Jedi coup d'état require the reorganization of the Republic into a state that can provide stability, and a safe and secure society, a Galactic Empire with himself as Emperor. The Senate that he has manipulated overwhelmingly applauds Palpatine's decision.
Emperor Palpatine proceeds to purge the Jedi, who had been the upholders of peace and justice in the Old Republic, and replaces them by redeeming the Sith. Though Palpatine's Sith identity remains a secret to most, his apprentice Darth Vader is the Sith Lord who is publicly known to the galaxy as the ally of Palpatine who is serving the Empire to purge the Galaxy of the Jedi. Vader is the ruthless henchman of Palpatine who is feared by many in the galaxy. By the time of A New Hope, the Empire has transformed into a fully totalitarian regime, with opposition in the form of the Rebel Alliance.
The Galactic Empire is described in various Star Wars media as a brutal dictatorship, one based on "tyranny, hatred of nonhumans, brutal and lethal force, and, above all else, constant fear."[1]
Contents [hide]
1 Depiction
1.1 Origins
1.2 Organization of power
1.2.1 Imperial Army
1.2.2 Imperial Navy
1.3 Resistance to Imperial rule
1.4 Expanded Universe
2 Themes
3 See also
4 References
5 External links
5.1 Fan Societies / Clubs


Ian McDiarmid as Palpatine/Darth Sidious, the Emperor, in The Return of the Jedi
The Galactic Empire is born out of the collapsing Old Republic. However, the seeds of change are planted during the Clone Wars, the epic war between the Republic and the Confederacy of Independent Systems depicted in Attack of the Clones.
In Episode I, amid a trade dispute, blockade and invasion of Naboo by the Trade Federation, then-Senator Palpatine convinces Naboo's Queen Padmé Amidala to address the Galactic Senate, in order to call for a vote of no confidence in Chancellor of the Republic Finis Valorum's leadership, due to his alleged inability to act quickly to end the occupation of Naboo. The crisis in Naboo allows Palpatine to be elected Chancellor.
When the extent of the Separatist threat becomes clear in Episode II, the Old Republic Senate, the legislature of the Republic, grants Palpatine emergency powers to deal with the crisis. This conflict allows Palpatine to remain in office long after his term as Chancellor officially expires. Palpatine promises to return his powers to the Senate once peace and order is restored to the galaxy. His first order is to create an army of clone troopers resulting in the construction of a massive military. He takes advantage of the conflict to increase the office's power until by Episode III, he is effectively a dictator.
The Jedi begin to distrust the Chancellor's motives, fearing he has come under the influence of a Sith Lord named Darth Sidious. Palpatine insists to the Jedi that the war, and thus his emergency powers, will continue until Separatist leader General Grievous is killed. Their concerns are shared by several Senators, who suspect Palpatine may not return his emergency powers to the Senate as promised. Among them are two who had long supported Palpatine, Padmé Amidala and Bail Organa. The film eventually reveals that Palpatine and Sidious are one and the same, and that he has been manipulating the Republic and the Separatists against each other.
When the Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker discovers Palpatine is actually Darth Sidious, he returns to the Jedi Temple to inform Jedi Master Mace Windu what he has learned. Windu then leaves with three other Masters to arrest Palpatine, instructing Anakin to remain at the temple. Anakin ignores Mace Windu's directive and returns to the Chancellor's office to prevent the Jedi from killing him; Palpatine has manipulated him into believing that he has the power to save Anakin's pregnant wife, Padmé Amidala, from dying in childbirth. Mace Windu, with a cadre of Jedi, enters Palpatine's office and declares that he is under arrest and that the Senate will determine his fate, Palpatine dispenses with his false modest persona and reveals his power-hungry nature, retorting "I am the Senate!". Palpatine quickly produces a lightsaber and dispatches all but Windu. When Anakin arrives, Windu is standing over the disarmed Palpatine, prepared to strike. Anakin intervenes on Palpatine's behalf by cutting off Windu's hand, allowing Palpatine to send Windu plunging to his death with a blast of Force lightning. Anakin then submits to the dark side of the Force, becoming Palpatine's Sith apprentice, Darth Vader.
Palpatine declares the Jedi to be traitors and enemies of the Republic, and issues Order 66, a secret order he implanted in the clones to overthrow their Jedi commanders. In a matter of hours, the Jedi Order is all but wiped out in a massive galaxy-wide slaughter. Secure in his power and position, Palpatine reorganizes the Republic into the Galactic Empire, with himself as Emperor for life. The Senate enthusiastically supports Palpatine, although a few, like Padmé and Organa, realize that the freedom enshrined by the Republic has been destroyed in the name of a "safe and secure society." A deleted scene in the film establishes that the two are among the main founders of the Rebel Alliance, which later arises in A New Hope.
Two remaining Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda, attempt to attack and destroy the Sith once and for all. Yoda confronts Palpatine, and Obi-Wan duels his former apprentice, now Darth Vader. Obi-Wan defeats Vader, but Yoda's duel with Palpatine ends in a stalemate and he is forced to flee for his life; both Jedi are forced to go into exile. Padme's children, now parentless except for a Sith Lord, are placed into adoptive families until such time as the living Force reaches out to them and they take up their destiny.
Led by Darth Vader, the Emperor's Army of stormtroopers all but exterminate the Jedi Order.
[edit]Organization of power

Banner of the Galactic Empire
With the end of the Clone Wars and the formation of the First Galactic Empire, Palpatine rules the Empire with absolute power, with third-in-command Sate Pestage as Grand Vizier to run the Empire day to day. Vader is the Emperor's second-in-command as well as his chief enforcer. In the 20 years between Revenge of the Sith and Return of the Jedi, Palpatine rules the galaxy from the confines of his heavily guarded palace on Coruscant. During that same time, Vader travels extensively to most of the galactic regions to enforce the Emperor's rule.
The Senate nominally continues to exist, though it is a virtually powerless debating society. Palpatine dissolves the Senate in A New Hope after discovering that several members of the Senate are members of the Rebellion. Aside from Palpatine, the real power in the Empire is in the hands of planetary governors, sector governors (the "moffs") and Grand Moffs overseeing collections of sectors such as Grand Moff Tarkin. After Palpatine dissolves the Senate, the regional governors are formally granted control over their territories.
In A New Hope, Tarkin explains the Empire's philosophy as "rule through fear of force rather than force itself." The instrument of this power is the military, which includes the Imperial Stormtroopers, a massive fleet of starships, and at its zenith the Death Star, a moon-sized superweapon capable of destroying planets. Plans for the Death Star first appear (in universe chronology) in Attack of the Clones; construction begins at the end of Revenge of the Sith.
[edit]Imperial Army
The Imperial Army is the main ground force of the Galactic Empire. It operates massive ground combat vehicles and maintains garrisons across the galaxy. It also cooperates with other branches of the Empire in a variety of operations. The Imperial Army consists of a considerable number of legions, enough to project power throughout the galaxy. Some of the legions are stationed on the capital planet Coruscant as part of the Emperor's security, while others are scattered in the Imperial Navy and planetary garrisons across the galaxy. Imperial Army officers and crew typically wear olive-grey uniforms when not clad in armor. Contrary to popular belief, the stormtroopers are not in fact the army, but rather an elite corps that works as a ground force for the Navy--similar to a marine corps.
[edit]Imperial Navy
The Imperial Navy, also referred to as the Imperial Starfleet, was the military arm of the Galactic Empire in charge of maintaining security, peace and order in the galaxy. Commanded by Darth Vader, it absorbed the military forces of the Galactic Republic after Palpatine's declaration of the New Order. Organization of the Imperial Navy is assigned to the Moffs.
At its peak, the Imperial Navy fielded at least tens of thousands of warships and fulfilled the Emperor's will throughout the galaxy. After its defeat at the Battle of Endor, the Galactic Empire splits up into warring factions and the Imperial Starfleet splinters along with it. While much of the remnants of the Imperial Navy were later reunited under impressive Imperial commanders, the military organization covered in this article ceased to exist shortly after the death of the Emperor.
Specific responsibilities of the Imperial Navy included defending Imperial citizens from space-based threats such as pirates, smugglers and rebel contingents, enforcing Imperial Will, and overseeing commerce through customs and blockade operations. The Imperial Navy also performs orbital bombardments, transports major ground force deployments and supports them with space and aerial support.
Imperial Navy uniforms come in a variety of designs and colors depending on unit, but are usually black or olive-green for officers with the very highest ranks wearing white.
The Stormtroopers operate with the Navy, and are fielded like marines separate from the army.
See also: Stormtrooper (Star Wars)
[edit]Resistance to Imperial rule
In The Force Unleashed, three influential senators — Bail Organa of Alderaan, Garm Bel Iblis of Corellia, and Mon Mothma of Chandrila — meet in secret to form the Alliance to Restore the Republic, more commonly referred to as the Rebel Alliance. During the two decades that take place between Revenge of the Sith and A New Hope, the Rebellion's early groups are all but crushed by the Empire, and its leaders are constantly forced into hiding or killed.
The Death Star, a moon-sized space station (the construction of which is in an early stage at the end of Revenge of the Sith) with sufficient firepower to destroy an entire planet, is designed to be the supreme weapon of the Empire's power. Grand Moff Willhuff Tarkin, the station's commander, demonstrates that power in A New Hope, when he destroys Alderaan merely as a show of force. In the film's climactic scene, however, the station is assaulted by a small force of Rebel starfighters; the battle ends with the Death Star's destruction at the hands of Luke Skywalker. The victory is the Rebel Alliance's first major success against the Empire.
A critical blow is struck against the Empire in Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi. In the film's climactic battle, the Rebellion destroys the second Death Star and a great portion of the Imperial Navy's highest-ranking officers. During this battle, Vader is redeemed by throwing Palpatine to his death, but is mortally wounded by Force lightning intended to kill his son, Luke.
[edit]Expanded Universe
In the Expanded Universe, the Rebels, renamed the New Republic, fight to claim the galaxy from remaining Imperials styling themselves as independent controllers of portions of the galaxy.
In the Jedi Prince novel series, a group of impostors calling themselves the Prophets of the Dark Side install a three-eyed mutant named Trioculus as Emperor by claiming that he is Palpatine's son. By the end of the series, Palpatine's true son, Triclops, helps the Rebels defeat this new enemy.
In the Thrawn trilogy book series, the New Republic is almost brought to its knees by Grand Admiral Thrawn, the new leader of the remnants of the Empire and a military genius. By the time of the third book in the series, Thrawn has nearly defeated the New Republic, but they claim victory in a last-ditch effort, and Thrawn is killed by his own bodyguard, shattering the Empire's unity.
In the Dark Empire comic book series, Palpatine is reborn in a clone body and unites most of the scattered remnants of the Empire, hoping to retake control of the galaxy. By the sequel, Empire's End, he is defeated and destroyed once and for all.
In the Jedi Academy Trilogy, an Imperial admiral named Daala commandeers the remainder of the Imperial Navy and mounts a ferocious assault on the New Republic. She nearly succeeds in taking over the galaxy, but is foiled by New Republic pilots Wedge Antilles and Lando Calrissian in the final entry, Champions of the Force.
In the novel Darksaber, Admiral Daala, frustrated with the Imperial warlords in the Core fighting and bickering amongst themselves, orchestrates the warlords' deaths and unites and becomes the leader of the remaining Imperial forces. After being defeated in battle once again by the New Republic, she resigns and selects Gilad Pellaeon (originally in the Thrawn Trilogy) as the new leader, where he becomes Grand Admiral Pellaeon.
By the time of the New Jedi Order series, the remaining Imperial military factions sign a truce with the New Republic, becoming the Imperial Remnant. The former enemies then become allies against the invading Yuuzhan Vong.
The Star Wars: Legacy comic book series, set 130 years after Return of the Jedi, explains that, during a civil war, the New Galactic Empire known as the Fel Empire declares war on the Galactic Alliance, the successor state of the New Republic. This conflict begins the Sith-Imperial War, which after three years leads to the eventual defeat of the Galactic Alliance and the Galactic Empire asserting its domination over the galaxy once again. Another split occurs as the Sith Lord Darth Krayt the leader of the One Sith, usurps the throne and forces Emperor Roan Fel to take refuge in the fortress planet of Bastion. The Galactic Alliance Remnant, Fel's forces known as the Empire-in-exile and the New Jedi Order unite against Darth Krayt's Galactic Empire and successfully destroy it and the Empire-in-exile, the Galactic Alliance Remnant and the New Jedi Order formed a new galactic government out of their organisations called the Galactic Federation Triumvirate and subsequently dissolved their old parties one by one. Thus Palpatine's New Order was finally brought to an end after 157 years of imperialism which opposed to his 10,000 year rule that he had promised at its formation.

Reichsfuhrer SS Heinrich Himmler in black SS uniform, visiting a concentration camp. Mary Henderson in Star Wars: The Magic of Myth contends that Darth Vader's all-black uniform and his devout obedience to the Emperor has allusion to Nazi Germany's SS.
Star Wars creator George Lucas sought to make the Galactic Empire aesthetically and thematically similar to Nazi Germany and to appear to be fascist.[2] Like Nazi Germany, the Galactic Empire is a dictatorship based on rigid control of society that dissolved a previous democracy and is led by an all-powerful supreme ruler.[3] The Empire, like the Nazis, desires the creation of totalitarian order[4] and utilizes excessive force and violence to achieve their ends.[4] The name of the Empire's main soldiers, the Stormtroopers, is somewhat similar to the name given to Hitler's Sturmabteilung (SA) paramilitary bodyguards.[3] The visual appearance of Darth Vader in his all-black uniform combined with his devout obedience to the Emperor has allusion to the black-uniformed Nazi Schutzstaffel (SS).[3] The uniforms of Imperial military officers also bear resemblance to uniforms used in Nazi Germany as well as nineteenth-century Germany's ulans (mounted lancers)—who wore a tunic, riding breeches, and boots like the Empire's officers wear—as well as the Imperial officers' cap resembling the field caps historically worn by German and Austrian troops.[5] In addition to Nazi Germany, there was also at least one portion of the Galactic Empire that was based on the Soviet Union, which is the various military personnel and TIE Fighters are flying in formation as Palpatine arrives on the Death Star in Return of the Jedi. George Lucas admitted in the commentary that he based it on the May Day military parades in the Soviet Union.[6]

Napoleon Bonaparte. Bonaparte rose to power as First Consul of the French Republic and later declared himself Emperor of a new French Empire.
The rise of Palpatine dismantling a democratic republic to rise to supreme power is related to the real-world examples of Julius Caesar, Napoleon Bonaparte, and Adolf Hitler.[7]
h-irsch Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2013  Student Digital Artist
So anyways, I haven't ate anything today and I'm growing a headache.
Gallifreyan-girl Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2013  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Dying of laughter, thank you for making my night. gonna go back and read it now
XXtraPrince Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2013
Never before in my life have I seen so much horseshit outside of a stable.
LadyDeven Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2013  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Holy mother of tealed text wall. I read all that, forget the cookie, I deserve a medal.

twasdandish Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2013
o shiut.
Pakaku Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2013
...I converted the thread into a spoken track. It's 22 minutes long.
Princess-Rufflebutt Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2013  Student General Artist
I don't know what I was expecting when I opened up this thread.
Werewolfferret96 Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2013
hmm me too, I see a wall of words, my brain just jammed..
Princess-Rufflebutt Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2013  Student General Artist
Basically how my brain reacted
Werewolfferret96 Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2013
GreenEyedYoshika Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
I saw this and my first reaction was "Holy shit"
Jellybean9000 Featured By Owner Feb 26, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
I saw this and some of the replies here and said the same thing.
CheshireLies Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2013
He didn't know what he was doing here. It had seemed a quaint idea at first, just run down to Joan's, grab a cup of coffee and listen to one of the hippie solo artists who perched on a stool with a battered guitar and sang about freedom. Sure. The old Jesse would have loved the idea. But things had changed. Coffee that had once soothed the mind and freshened the body now tasted bitter and burned the back of his throat. He hadn't really had the money to spend, but it had seemed such a nostalgic idea, to throw away a few dollars and a few hours to just relax. Jesse supposed he had built it up too much, the expectation could never become the reality. Still, he could at least enjoy the time he had set aside for nothing. The bustle about the recent activity in the area had died down, and he felt reasonably sure he had nothing to worry about. Not today, no today was just for listening and waiting. For what, he hadn't yet decided. Tables were often shared by strangers at Joan's. This he remembered, and half way expected. He had chosen a table, empty, where he could sit and see all the doors. One wall was taken up by a long bay window with a couple of cushions in it, and here sat the solo artist of the evening, a girl with long, ash blonde hair and a necklace of turquoise beads on a hemp string around her neck. She sang in a very acrobatic way, making it hard to hang on to the lyrics. Still, it was pleasant to listen to, and the guitar was well tuned. It was always a nice surprise to listen to a strange artist and find them on key. Especially here, in the backend of nowhere. Jesse's coffee had grown cold by the time someone joined him. He had taken to studying the paintings that covered the other walls, abstract things with bizarre structures or landscapes set in forests he had never seen. All of them were painted by locals, just like only locals worked in the shop, just like only locals came here. Jesse loved small towns for this reason, but hated them at the same time. Everyone was involved in everything, in things that weren't their business. He was staring at one trying to judge whether the creature painted in the jagged shapes was a hedgehog or a particularly scruffy pig. Hell, it might have been a platypus for all he knew. So absorbed in the painting, he didn't notice when the music had stopped. "Hey." Her. The guitar case thumped against the table, and after some fiddling the singer set it against the wall. Jesse gave her a smile, a reply to the dazed, dreamy expression she had on her own face. Then he realized that was just her usual face. "Hey," he replied. "I know you." She nodded a few times, as if she couldn't help it. Jesse felt a pang of alarm. Her eyes, pale green, didn't look red at the whites but maybe she really wasn't on drugs. Maybe she was just weird. "Oh?" He said casually, sipping at his coffee. It was cold but somehow tasted better. He kept that note in mind for the next time he ordered something. She grinned at him, tucking her ash blonde hair behind her ears, and nodded a few more times than was necessary. "Yeaaaah, you was at Hutch's place, weren't you? Man, he was ... he was drunk." Jesse stared at her. "That was a long time ago," he said, flabbergasted. Frankly, he felt he should be flattered she remembered. She didn't look exactly like the most down to earth being, not someone who would have remembered someone she'd seen for a few minutes years ago. "Yea, I guess it was." Her whole body nodded this time. It would have been funny, but Jesse was starting to feel faintly motion sick watching her. "I'm Debbie." "Jesse." He held out a hand, which she took sort of halfheartedly before dropping her hand on the table. So her body didn't just sway with the music, unless she could still hear music in her mind. Now that was an idea. The plainness of her name had surprised him - he had been expecting something like Belle or ... Strawberry. Something weird. She stared at the drink in front of her, as if she didn't remember getting it. Why in the world was he here? Trying to regain a bit of his childhood, maybe. It sounded stupid, even to him. "That party was wild. Wooooo." The sudden, high pitched exclamation faded in to nothing, and a few customers look around to find the source of the noise. Debbie didn't seemed to notice, staring out the window while she swayed. Jesse looked around, trying to determine if he was the only one unnerved by her behavior. Some ignored her, but he caught a few watching with amusement. This must have been regular behavior for her. "You, you, you left early, dinja?" Jesse nodded, then realized she wasn't looking at him and wouldn't see. "Yea." "I - " She took a sip of her drink and made a face. Jesse waited patiently for her to focus her attention. After a few more seconds she regained the ability to string words together. "I know what you did." "Excuse me?" "You left ... early. Erin left ... later. But I, um. I." She laughed, and her hair fell in her face. Her voice dropped to a whisper, but the pitch made it a carrying one. "I saw you pick her up. That red car. She didn't want to goooo, go go go ...." "What are you talking about?" "Erin Rose, red rose. Red car." Debbie took another drink. "Screaming, she was screaming, and then later. Down in the ditch, like, like ... roadkill. Pch!" She made a gun with her hand, holding the 'barrel' to the side of her head. Debbie mimicked the sound of a gun going off. "Debbie, honey, what are you doing?" Joan Ferrel bustled over, dressed in a plain apron and her frizzy red hair pulled back in a bun. Smiling, she took Debbie's hand and gave Jesse a glance. "I'm sorry if she upset you, she likes to make up stories." "Pretty vivid stories," Jesse remarked dryly. He was waiting for Joan to remark on how loudly Jesse's heart was beating. Joan took out a small bottle from one of her apron pockets and dumped two small pills in to her hand. "Come on, Debbie." The singer took the pills and swallowed them dry, making another face. She scrambled for the coffee and took a long drink. Jesse watched curiously. So, clearly, she was unstable. Still, her words had unnerved him. He had been stupid back then, reckless. It seemed he still had loose ends to tie up. "Do you need any help?" Jesse asked, standing. Joan studied him for a moment, as if trying to see something. "St. John, right?" Jesse nodded. "Jesse St. John." "Well." Joan nodded at Debbie. "She needs a ride over to the pharmacy, if you can take her. I hate to leave the shop ..." "Sure." He smiled, charmingly, and Joan gave him a weak one in response. The coffee-house owner shuffled Debbie outside to where Jesse had left his car parked on the curve. Jesse tossed his mostly untouched coffee in the trash on the way out. As she walked, Debbie's guitar case smacked against her ankles but if it hurt she didn't seem to notice. Still smiling, Jesse picked up the guitar case and set it in the back seat. Debbie turned red in the face as he opened the door for her. He smiled at her, waiting till she was safely inside. The pharmacy. He took hazardous directions, burning more gas than it should have taken. When they got there, he let her out, then drove away. She called goodbye, staring in the opposite direction as she waved. Jesse killed the engine and waited. Waited awhile long. He waited. That was always something he had been good at. He sat in his car, drinking from a soda he had purchased at the convenience store across the street. There was a battered paperback under the seat, but after twenty pages he realized why he had found it laying in a gutter. It was nearly another hour. Jesse watched the pharmacy door and, after a time he saw the door open, and Debbie stepped outside. She looked steady. Whatever the doc had given her, it must have kicked in quickly. Her face was blank and she didn't question his appearance, climbing into the car without a word. Debbie said nothing as Jesse drove on, pulling off the main road with the muffler rattling. The first flicker of surprise crossed her face as he pulled out the gun as they hit a country road, but there wasn't much remaining when the bullet exploded from the back of her skull.
Nicholai-nii Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
>Attempted to read
>Didn't even get halfway through
>Now has headache

CheshireLies Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2013
the whole thing is in actual readable format somewhere in my gallery
Nicholai-nii Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
dadona777 Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2013
rocketslugrockscp Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Azza9 Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2013
Call in the sappers, this wall is gonna take a while to get down.
SophizzleIzHere Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2013  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
I attempted to read this.
Big mistake my head hurts like fuck. :iconstareshakeplz:
Werewolfferret96 Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2013
this is better than the wall words..
HorrificSensation Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2013
yeah i kno right. fuck words when theres art :D
Werewolfferret96 Featured By Owner Feb 25, 2013
ash-ketchum09 Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2013  Student Digital Artist
Needs more eye-rape.
thesurrealisticMind Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2013  Hobbyist Artist
Death to the mortals! :iconevilgrinplz:
LudwigvanKickass2 Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2013  Professional Traditional Artist

Philip Guston (June 27, 1913 – June 7, 1980) was a painter and printmaker in the New York School, which included many of the abstract expressionists, such as Jackson Pollock and Willem De Kooning. In the late 1960s Guston helped to lead a transition from abstract expressionism to neo-expressionism in painting, abandoning the so-called "pure abstraction" of abstract expressionism in favor of more cartoonish renderings of various personal symbols and objects.

1 Childhood and education
2 Early career and influences
3 Teaching
4 Abstract expressionism
5 Return to representational art
6 References
7 Further reading
8 External links

Childhood and education

Phillip Guston was born in 1913 in Montreal, Canada, Guston moved with his family to Los Angeles as a child. Guston's Ukrainian-Jewish parents escaped persecution when they moved from Odessa, Ukraine. Guston and his family were aware of the regular Klan activities against Jews, blacks and others which took place across California during Guston's childhood. When Guston was 10 or 11, his father hanged himself in the shed, and the young Guston found the body. Guston began painting at the age of 14, and in 1927 he enrolled in the Los Angeles Manual Arts High School, where both he and Jackson Pollock studied under Frederick John de St. Vrain Schwankovsky and were introduced to modern European art, oriental philosophy, theosophy and mystic literature.

Guston's early work was figurative and representational. His mother supported his artistic inclinations, and he often made drawings in a small closet, lit by a hanging bulb. Apart from his high school education and a one-year scholarship at the Otis Art Institute in Los Angeles, Guston remained a largely self-taught artist. During high school, Guston and Jackson Pollock published a paper opposing the high school's emphasis on sports over art. Their criticism led to both being expelled, but Pollock returned and graduated. At Otis on scholarship, Guston felt unfulfilled by the academic approach which limited him to drawing from plaster casts instead of the live model. Before dropping out of Otis, Guston spent a night in the studio making drawings of these figurative plasters scattered all over the studio floor.
Early career and influences

As an 18-year-old, politically aware painter, Guston made an indoor mural in L.A. - for the John Reed Club -, depicting the Scottsboro Boys. This mural was defaced by local police officers, which impacted Guston's political and social outlook.

In 1934, Guston, as Philip Goldstein, along with Reuben Kadish, joined the poet and friend Jules Langsner in a trip to Mexico where they were given a 1,000-square-foot (93 m2) wall in the former summer palace of the Emperor Maximilian in the state capital of Morelia, where they produced the impressive The Struggle Against Terror, an antifascist mural clearly influenced by the work of Siqueiros. A two-page review in Time magazine quoted Siqueiros describing them as ‘the most promising painters in either the US or Mexico’. While in Mexico he also met and spent time with Frieda Kahlo and her husband Diego Rivera.

In 1934-35, Guston and Kadish completed another mural at City of Hope, at the time a tuberculosis hospital located in Duarte, California, that remains to this day. In September 1935 he moved to New York where he worked as an artist in the WPA program. During this period his work included strong references to Renaissance painters such as Paolo Uccello, Masaccio, Piero della Francesca, and Giotto. He was also influenced by American Regionalists and Mexican mural painters.

A powerful and enduring influence, whom Guston was to acknowledge throughout his career, was Italian painter Giorgio de Chirico. Musa Mayer, Guston's daughter, recalled in her book Night Studio: A memoir of Philip Guston how the artist kept a De Chirico monograph in his studio, to which he would often refer.

Guston's first foray into teaching was as an artist-in-residence at the School of Art and Art History at the State University of Iowa (today the University of Iowa)[1] from 1941 to 1945. There he completed a mural for the Social Security Building in Washington, D.C., turned to easel painting, and had his first solo exhibition in 1944. After this he was artist-in-residence at Washington University in St. Louis, Missouri until 1947. He continued to teach at New York University and at the Pratt Institute.[2] From 1973 to 1978 he conducted a once-monthly graduate seminar at Boston University.[3] Guston's students include two graduates of the State University of Iowa, painters Stephen Greene (1917–1999)[4] and Fridtjof Schroder (1917–1990)[5] and Ken Kerslake (1930–2007), who attended Pratt Institute. Those who attended his graduate seminars at Boston University include painter Gary Komarin (1951-)[6] and new media artist Christina McPhee (1954-).[7]
Abstract expressionism

In the 1950s, Guston achieved success and renown as a first-generation Abstract Expressionist. During this period his paintings often consisted of blocks and masses of gestural strokes and marks of color floating within the picture plane. These works, with marks often grouped toward the center of the compositions, recall the "plus and minus" compositions by Piet Mondrian or the late Nymphea canvases by Monet. Guston used a relatively limited palette favoring whites, blacks, greys and reds in these works. This palette remains evident in his later work.
Return to representational art

In 1967 Guston moved to Woodstock. He was increasingly frustrated with abstraction and began painting representationally again, but in a rather personal, cartoonish manner. The first exhibition of these new figurative paintings was held in 1970 at the Marlborough Gallery in New York. It received scathing reviews from most of the art establishment (notably from the New York Times art critic Hilton Kramer who, in an article entitled "A Mandarin pretending to be a Stumblebum" ridiculed Guston's new style). One of the few who instantly understood the importance of those paintings was the painter Willem de Kooning who, at the time, said to Guston that they were "about freedom" (cited in Musa Mayer's biography of her father, Night Studio).[8]

As a result of the poor reception of his new figurative paintings, Guston isolated himself even more in Woodstock, far from the art world which had so utterly misunderstood his art (see the initial reaction of Robert Hughes, critic for Time Magazine, who later was to change his views, in a scathing review entitled "Ku Klux Komix", and Hilton Kramer's NY Times review).[9] His contract with the Marlborough gallery was not renewed and, after a short period without any dealer, he joined the recently opened David McKee Gallery (he had known McKee at Marlborough) to which he remained faithful until the end of his life.

In 1960, at the peak of his activity as an abstractionist, Guston said: "There is something ridiculous and miserly in the myth we inherit from abstract art. That painting is autonomous, pure and for itself, therefore we habitually analyze its ingredients and define its limits. But painting is 'impure'. It is the adjustment of 'impurities' which forces its continuity. We are image-makers and image-ridden." From 1968 onwards he made these words his motto. In this body of work he created a lexicon of images such as Klansmen, lightbulbs, shoes, cigarettes, and clocks. In late 2009, the McKee gallery in NYC, Guston's historic dealer, mounted a show revealing that lexicon in 49 small oils on panel painted between 1969 and 1972 that had never been publicly displayed as a whole. Guston is best known for these late existential and lugubrious paintings, which at the time of his death had reached a wide audience, and found great popular acceptance. Guston died in 1980 in Woodstock, New York.
HorrificSensation Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2013
heres some weird shit! :D
HorrificSensation Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2013
Sapphire-Ashesx Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2013
Add a Comment: