Wednesday, June 24, 2009
8
Vlad
Written by Zach in Art

A picture of my terrifying buddy Vlad.  I’m trying to get my blog to penetrate the Russian demographic.  They’re a tough audience to reach.  This isn’t just a picture of Russian Prime Minister Putin, no sir.  It’s a picture of Putin holding a–what is that?  Is that a piece from the beloved game that Russian enthusiasts all around the world play?  YES!  It is!  Okay Russians, if a picture of your Prime Minister holding a chess piece doesn’t get you to my blog, I don’t know what will.


vlad-putin-blog

Thursday, June 18, 2009
0
Zach’s Blog
Written by Zach in News

monkey-and-bird

I have a blog now.  A to Zach Check it out if you have time or inclination!

Friday, May 1, 2009
12
CONTEST WINNER!
Written by Zach in News

Thanks to everyone who submitted.  Justin and I read through the entries and we concluded that S.D. Smith is the winner!  Congratulations S.D., Hallie will contact you today to arrange your prize.

I do have to give a few special mentions.  J. Benjamin Baxendell, your Bull in a China Shop metaphor was very funny.  N. Iggma (ha! are you a rapper?) you write beautifully.  Will Kelly, your story was charming, and Justin’s ego is now enormous.  He said that he wishes he had a sign that read, “Justinian Gerard: Portrait Artist and Illuminist.”  Thanks again to everyone (Mr. Skip, I hope your stocks do better).  Below is the winning explanation of the Mad Bull’s rage.


Who can account for the madness of Bulls?  You might be surprised to learn that there is an industry dedicated to just such an enterprise.  Jole Brant had worked there for seven years when his first field assignment was handed down.

His Department Head scribbled the warrant, tucked it into a folder, and called out, “Brant!”

“Me, sir?”  said Jole and Eathan Brant simultaneously.

“Jole”  he said, not looking up.

“Lucky man.”

“Unless the Bull kills me.”

“Good point.”

It was a good point, for Jole Brant was terrified of Bulls.  So was Eathan.  And everyone else.

Beyond that, no one had ever been able to determine the cause of these dastardly demolitions.  In the ruin of homes and shops people pondered the meaning behind it.

Before long the industry in which Jole was employed sprang up, and several capitol investors hired capitol fellows to meet the demand. With -so far- no success.

Jole hated his job.

He climbed the ladder to the Department Head’s desk and grasped the folder.  He quit the room and dashed out the door, like a man who dashes out doors.  He hailed a carriage.

“Where to?” asked the cabby.

“I wonder, can you hear that awful sound of terrorized screaming, destruction, and that distinctly metallic snort?”

The cabby cocked his ear.  ”I certainly can, sir.”

“Grand. That’s the destination.”

“Right, sir.”

They stopped a block from the furious, metallic Bull, from which a swirling trail of black smoke cork-screwed into the sky, obscuring the sun in an acrid plume.  Jole straightened his coat, coughed discreetly, and walked towards the Bull.  This was the first time he had really looked up-close at a Mad Bull.  Soon he was directly before the monster.  He raised a hand to hail it.

“Ho, there, Bull.  What’s the meaning of all this?”

The Bull paused its methodical destruction.  A moment later a clinging bit of roof-tile fell, like a lingering crumb from the mouth of a greedy giant, his repast interrupted.

Jole could read no intention in its amber eyes.

Then it lifted a massive, shining leg –and stomped on Jole.

He didn’t die.

Instead he found himself in the hollow of the hoof, which quickly filled with a steadily increasing flow of air pressure.  Soon Jole was sucked up inside a steam-powered, pneumatic tube and found himself before the Captain of the metallic beast on the control bridge of the Bull.  The Captain, to Jole’s astonishment, was an actual bull.

“Hello, old chap.”  The Bull-Captain said gruffly.

Jole was flabbergasted.  “You’re a real bull. And…you didn’t kill me?”

“Of course not.  How many people are killed by Mad Bull attacks?”

“Well, come to think of it –none.”

“That’s right.”

“Then what’s all the mayhem about?” Jole asked.

“It ain’t about murder. It’s about….well, it’s about…”

“…Insurance Fraud” Jole said, shaking his head in recognition. “Of course.”

“I’m afraid so” The Bull-Captain answered.

“Rather a let-down” Jole sighed.  “Tell me, are you hiring?”

Well done everyone and thanks again for all the submissions!

Tuesday, April 28, 2009
3
Tiger and Boy
Written by Zach in Art News

tigerandboyblog

Monday, April 27, 2009
1
Neil Postman Girl
Written by Zach in News

neil-postman-girl-blog1

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