Every year, on the Queen’s Birthday weekend, there is an event known as the Comikaze 24hr Challenge.

It’s basically an endurance challenge for cartoonists. As a breed, we tend not to exercise, or go outside much, so we have a different kind of endurance challenge.

We attempt to make an entire monthly publication’s worth of comic in a single period of 24 consecutive hours. This is hard enough. To make it harder, it should be noted that Queen’s Birthday weekend is the same weekend as my birthday. So I am basically guaranteed to start this event with a positive BAC reading. But just to make sure that I stay evenly juiced up with the “creative process”, there is generally about 6 liters of energy drinks, and a bottle of vodka, to keep me going.

The idea was originally floated by comic artist luminary Scott McCloud, but the American challenge (which produces a book of the winners each year) falls on a really suck date, so we started our own down under a number of years ago.

OzTAKU and Pulp Faction are the two largest groups that enter, alongside numerous individuals who have no affiliation with either, with Pulp Faction hosting most of the content.

My submission effort this year has probably been my best yet, although I really didn’t push myself, having only done 14 hours of work on my entry, and getting 11 pages done (as one seems to have gone missing, and all things considered, I’m far too tired to simply redo it as I already had the handicap of my birthday hangover). The story came to me while I was having a conversation with a friend on MSN the other day, and has been playing on my mind ever since. The idea that we are going to reach a saturation point with these devices, and the wireless network accessibility to allow people to be permanently Wired is a little frightening in some ways, honestly.

Already our generation has a preference to communicate via text instead of face to face, or even voice to voice. That I am telling you this via a blog, and you are reading it, and we might have a discussion about it in person, but far more likely to over MSN or Facebook is rather telling of that already. Now think about what it will be like when you can access the net quickly, and for free, while you’re on the go. You’re probably going to be so busy typing to 3-4 people at once, tweeting, updating statuses on various social networks, that a phone call is seriously going to throw you off your game. Better to just text the person to MSN you. Likewise, how much original content do you have to talk about when you see people in person, that you haven’t already said on one of your many social sites? And did you a raise an eyebrow when I just said “content” instead of something more “natual” like “fresh conversation”? Because if you didn’t, you’re already thinking about your social interactions with other people in terms of computer mediated encounters, or even just exchanges of information, instead of an actual honest-to-man conversation.

Anyway, enough blabbering on about my perfect future where personal space is broken down to the point that groping a tit is more acceptable than a handshake, and everyone shuts the fuck up. Enjoy Say Hello.[imagebrowser id=3]

If you’ve got a few hours to while away, I recommend you go and check out some of the other entries.

What time is it? IT’S SATURDAY!

That’s the crazy kinda shit that goes down with OzTAKU. If it confuses Westeners, it’s our bag! And we had a meet up on that Saturday.

Why do I bother mentioning a manga drawing community on a blog supposedly about gawths? Well, the answer should be that obvious, but in case it isn’t, you may have noticed a disturbingly large number of gawths still read comic books, particularly the slightly more “mature” kind, but either way, there are plenty of manga for goths. And if that weren’t enough to convince you, most of the community is full of goths anyway…

Lithe, pouting, full lipped pretty boys consistently mistaken for young women. Metal Heads consistently mistaken for insurance clerks. Supple young women consistently mistaken for Brian Malko. Minors consistently drawing pornography to vent sexual frustrations forced on them by overly restricitve ethnic parents, and others that inform you your facial hair feels somewhat like their nethers. Truly, it is a communicative paradise of comedy, comraderie and consistent face palming.

We aim for consistency you see.We also aim to be sell out whores, but somehow it fails, and we’re still poor. Damn you, starving artist stereotype!

Clearly though, this was getting me nothing but hunger. Hunger for comedy, lest I blow my brains out. So off I went, seeking such from other cartoonists.

Looking for comedy itself, I was sorely disappointed. There was nothing funny about Comic Book Funnies this week, much to my disappointment. What was I not disappointed by then? Why, The Sexy Men of Australian Australian Comics 2009-2010 Financial Year Calendar. Featuring sexy sexy men such as Patrick Alexander. And not only did I get to lust after such pinup material, I got to meet them too!.. Whcih is actually something I could do the first Saturday of every month at the Prince of Wales hotel if I wasn’t busy with other crap

But with that disappointment, I had no choice but to go home and weep… Or y’know, shower and change and get ready to go out to Black Widows.

I’ve got to say, it was a remarkably good night. The music was pumping up until about 2:00am when it became more glitchpop than industrial / danceable metal.

That, however, did not prevent me from being an angsty fuck, because I had not taken a fair does of Fukitol as I should have. The secret to happiness, after all, is self medication. This was qickly fixed with three shots of overpriced Sierra Tequila which I managed to get at a discount. I now recall why I stopped drinking cheap tequila. It didn’t help that people kept coming up and asking if it was Zak. For fuck’s sake, it was not fucking Zak! Leave Zak alone! Those that attempted to cheer me up, appreciated… but don’t do it next time.

 

Rant aside, perhaps the best part of the night was remaking aquaintance with someone who insists she’s a “sex ninja”. It’s certainly more original than “vampire”, and more interesting than “pagan / witch”. I’m leaving money on the dresser in the hopes that she comes some night. Although more entertaining was introducing her to Jaz. It’s always an awkward moment when introducing your partner to someone you met without her, regardless of your intentions. You’re unsure if they will get along, or throw down, and an inflattible children’s pool filled with jelly will mysteriously appear (well, it’s King Street).

Speaking of unspeakable sexiness, I did manage to catch up with my doppleganger and arrange to record his bizarre sex life for the purpose of documenting it as a comic. Said arranged time? Why, the very next day! And you’ll be privvy to the opening of that inanity tomorrow… Eventually, this recording will form the basis for an entire movement in and of itself: Wadeing in the Gene Pool.

To Be Continued… again…

For a weekend in which I was meant to get a whole lot of work done, it seemed I did almost nothing. I only managed to get 3 hours of work on Manifest down, not including the meeting. Fairly relaxing, non-productive weekend… and it all started on Friday night when I started hearing the blingleblingleblingle sound of an inevitable flashback sequence. Unaware of what it was at the time, I assumed it was the last gasp of a dying heroin addict.

You see, I was in Brunswick at time for a friend’s farewell party. He’s off to the US to marry his Texan beau. Most of us think he’s insane. But he met her online, so we know it’s true love, even if she is a man of which we are most assiduously assured she is not. Having actually met her, I’ll reserve my judgement until I’ve slept with “her”.

So there we are at the Retreat Hotel. It’s a hole very reminiscent of that first level of Guitar Hero. It also happens to be right across the road from The Brunswick Green. Another hole that is similarly reminiscent, but it does have the one charming feature of being a regular haunt for the goths that live in the area. If the party had been there, I’d have been able to get a meal more appetising, and had conversation with people who weren’t going to chastise me in the same way they do to the kindergarten children under their care, or like I was some amazingly weird, drunk asian man hitting on them.

Inevitably, it began to rain, and it was no longer my scene. I decided I’d go and hang out with my favourite DJ couple, who are also getting married soon incidentally, only to find out that one half had gone to Sound Tech at the Eltham RSL for some band or other… So there Jaz & I sit, with a certain Pooley ne Brand delivering head scritches whilst we watched the original X-Men movie (with the original Sabretooth) and Dark City, before heading back to the farewell party, which had moved to Noise bar by this time.

It’s at this moment I’m beginning to think everywhere in Brunswick must be a hole, because Noise bar manages to be one such place. In its defence, it has a well stocked bar and a stage with live performance that you can hear perfectly well from the area where you don’t actually have to pay to see the performance. I believe by the time we arrived the Funky Brews & Bastian were long gone, and we were down to Dawn Curfew… A totally vampiric name, steeped in stygian darkness beset by mesmiroh fuck it, I really wasn’t paying attention to the music. I cared that much. I had Care Factor Zero. Amazingly enough, the same name as the band playing at the Eltham RSL.

It was around this time my errant friend ZhengQi had managed to get himself amazingly wasted, and be all over an ersatz friend without even realising it… There is nothing funnier than the look of put upon woman who normally handles three year olds for her day job, and is now being handled by someone in a state of similar mental capacity.

Well, maybe someone with a thick Indian accent telling you about big breasted strap on lesbian porn they watched the night before… I’m amazed I don’t have a link to send you to for that one. Clearly I’m slipping.

As it was I left for the evening, having much to do the next day. Apparently those remaining thought otherwise, and wandered off to the Men’s Gallery. And this is, for me, the funniest part of the evening. About this time, yet another friend was at Red Moon, being abandoned by her friends and asking to meet up with us. I mentioned the strip club plan. There was some hesitation and delay… before being asked which one. In ZhengQi’s mind however, it was none. He insisted that he didn’t want to go somewhere that made you pay without getting to touch… so he went someone where you pay to touch, so I’m told… although no pix, so I guess it didn’t happen.

I decided to have a good night’s sleep as I had much to do th…

To Be Continued… tomorrow…