Mindless Self-Indulgence

I was 2 [A4] pages into an in depth and passionate piece about climate change, when I realised, no one cares about climate change anymore, that’s so 2012. Now we’ve decided it’ll be too expensive and too much hard work to do anything about it so we may as well live in denial and blame all our problems on immigration. So instead of trying to make what little difference I felt I could within my limited means (without having to go outside), I thought I’d return to my more popular posts, of my shitty artwork. I don’t have a scanner anymore, so it’s photographs of artwork, which adds an extra layer to the artiness of it all. Pictures of drawn pictures, reflecting the technology obsessed youth, how we are all experiencing life through a lens and all that.

 

Natural

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I can just about draw breasts. I love breasts. Boobs, whatever you want to call them. I have an insatiable appetite for them. This piece represents the patriarchal society and how women are objectified, look at her face, she ain’t happy about that.

 

Flat Mate’s Shoes.

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As well as breasts, I really like drawing these terrible flowers

 

 

Drawn Man Dragged Off Page.

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There was once a whole man on this sketch pad, but They came and got him. This is clever as I ripped the page, making it more immersive. It looked better ages ago before I left it under the sofa and it got flattened. Trust me, if you had seen it when it was first done you’d have been blown away, both metaphorically and literally. The force of this drawing would have hit you square in the chest and blown you across the street.

 

Wit

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For those that can’t read my writing, the man is saying “Your art work is derivative.” To which the woman replies “So is your face.” The glasses symbolise her intellect, her boobs symbolise her boobs. On closer inspection I also realise my flies are undone… this is basically porn.

 

I Enjoy Taking Pictures of Myself Whilst on the Toilet.

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It’s like an addiction. I’ve had a haircut since then, if you saw my hair now you’d be blown away, metaphorically and….

This represents societies self-obsession and how even though everybody poops, we think our own bowel movements are somehow special. Mine are.

 

The Judgemental Hand of God.

 

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What is he really angry about I want to know.

 

A Pictorial Representation of the Phrase – Better than a poke in the eye with a blunt stick.

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For those of you that wondered about this phrase. It’s origins lie in one single event where a man was poked in the eye with a blunt stick. He really did not enjoy it. It gave him a new perspective on life. When anything bad happened he would shrug and say ‘better than a poke in the eye with a blunt stick.’ this was a sound philosophy until he once had both his eyes poked with two blunt sticks, which rationally speaking is worse than a poke in the eye with a blunt stick. He had a crisis immediately after as his world view was shaken and unfortunately killed himself.

Close Up of an Oil Candle.

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Bark

 

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Caffeine.

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Where’s My Millions?

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Having viewed my work, you are probably asking yourself the same question.  Where are my millions? Would no doubt be a more grammatically correct question, but it doesn’t flow as well. My flat mate told me this is the best thing I’ve done… art wise and in general. That makes me very sad.

Buy my surrealist book for .99p do it or I’ll sneak into your house and rearrange your furniture. It has a five star review from a random person, I don’t know them at all. I certainly didn’t ask them to rate it 5 stars in a vain bid to sell more copies. Shut up!

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Tiny-Compendium-Ridiculousness-Hubert-Watergipridget-ebook/dp/B00NX63R1W/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1469272168&sr=8-1&keywords=tiny+compendium+of+ridiculousness

 

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Pictures of Things With Filters

That’s it, I’ve had enough. I try you know, I really do. “Keep writing,” people tell you “You’ll get somewhere eventually.” I try to give you thought provoking, entertaining pieces. I try to talk of profound things, I try to write eloquently with some sort of flair. I try to entertain, inform and other such noble things. I even wrote a good piece on the upcoming EU referendum.

A handful of likes that got.  There’s only so much my ego can take!

So I thought I’d do some research into what people like when it comes to blog posts. I checked some guy’s out, he had a post that had garnered well over 267 likes. That’s a lot right?

It seems the global attention span has become a shrunken and shrivelled thing.  Words are old news. It’s all about a collection of pictures of things isn’t it? But not natural pictures, it’s all about the filters.

So this week I sank to your level. Enjoy my pictures of things with filters.

 

Sad Dying Flowers, Which is a Bit Cliché but There’s a Filter.

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Enter a caption

2) Bane of My Life.

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3) A Woman’s foot.

This one is very artistic. You see, the foot is oft sexualised (don’t know why, they’re the things you walk on so will naturally be the most disgusting), but this one is covered in an old and battered shoe. So it represents a long dead sense of subtlety and modesty. You can also just about see my knees, which means the woman’s foot is higher than mine. This can be seen in two ways 1) the dogmatic patriarchal nature of society (I’ve put my foot down!) or 2) an ode to uber-feminism in that ultimately the woman will stand higher than me, seeing as her foot is higher.

OR I accidentally took a picture without meaning to.

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4) Addiction Will Never Die.

Many charities, health practitioners and the various police forces have done a lot of work to tackle drug crime and drug addiction. My leftist views aside (most drugs should probably be legalised and made available on the NHS), I can’t help but feel the scourge of addiction will never be washed away from this Earth. We humans are too damaged, too scared. We were born with holes in our hearts (metaphorical ones, I’m not talking about genetic conditions). These holes suck in everything and can never be filled. We will pour what we can into it. For me it’s coffee. This is what I see in front of my face most hours of the day. It’s expensive, as a desperate man I have resorted to mugging old ladies just to fund my habit.

When will the government turn their protective and vengeful gaze upon the coffee shops?

 

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5) The Forgotten Spoon.

We are  a wasteful society. An arrogant society, that takes what we want when we want it and when we no longer want it and can’t be bothered to carry it around any more we cast it aside, as if it meant nothing to us.

Cars, clothes, oil, our children… even this poor spoon.

Never again will it fulfil its purpose of scooping.

Once again my egotistical leg couldn’t stop itself from jumping in front of the lens.

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6) Poetry Lives.

Pay at Meter

Display ticket.

Pure poetry right there. I know what the sign maker meant. In many ways we are all paying at the meters of life, feeling the need or some sort of social pressure to display our tickets. Or maybe because we are constantly aware of the 24 hour CCTV watching us that makes us compelled to display them. Which in this instant is clearly meant to be the ever present eye of God.

 

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7) My Lamp Shades Look Like Breasts.

Or I’m just sexually frustrated… which is entirely probable.

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8) Work Poos are the Best Poos.

Notice how doing a Poo at work seems to induce a manic sort of joy within me. It’s the best part of the day. Sometimes I stuff myself with dried fruit and laxatives just so I can prolong the feeling. I hate the outside world so much that I find I gain an inordinate amount of comfort from the enclosed space.

From an artistic point of view, you can say how most of our day to day jobs are no different from this act.

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9) I was once looking beardy in a pub.

 

So I filtered that son of a bitch and now it’s here.

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There! Are you happy? Will this get me the recognition we all know I deserve! I DO! I REALLY FUCKING DO! WHERE’S MY LEGIONS OF FOLLOWERS?

 

The Fuzzy Rambler.