The Monster Lounge

A Feet Treet

2011-03-20T21:50:00.000-07:00

A Hand To Take Hold Of The Scene

2011-03-09T07:43:00.000-08:00

Spiky Fleur

2011-02-26T15:27:00.001-08:00

Map of The End Of The World by Two Sisters and a Friend

2011-02-14T08:34:00.000-08:00

Troubling Times

2011-01-26T15:22:00.000-08:00

A summer day. A jaunty baseball hat. Three blue slushies from Cumbies. A trip to the Shelburne Museum. Who could ever have foreseen that the idle combination of these elements would result in the emotional scarring of three young friends?

Once upon a time, three young people decided to take a trip to local museum.

“Why not?” “Why not?” “Why not?”

And so they went.

They paid the exorbitant entrance fees and began their wanderment. They toured the merry-go-round, the blacksmiths cottage. Finally, they walked into what they thought was the artist-in-residence’s home.

What they actually walked into was the aftereffect of a monster revolution.

Stuffed entrails dripped off balconies, refugees hung to ropes hanging ominously over open mouths and bared teeth. A single picture of a shell-shocked hat was snapped, and the trio left quietly, mouths hanging open, hearts and minds torn asunder. Never to be the same again.

The Casual Squid

2010-12-11T14:07:00.000-08:00

Casual Squids are full of tricks.

Namely one—they are never casual about anything.

Especially dinner.

Tomatoface Killah

2010-09-29T10:53:00.000-07:00

I never met a Tomatoface Killah I didn’t like.

EXCEPT FOR THIS ONE.

Ollenulus Peepus

2010-09-21T11:49:00.000-07:00

Let’s pretend for a second that it’s Easter—

You’re with your entire family. The Easter Bunny showed up trailing baskets stuffed with decorative grass. Your house reeks of the lamb cooking in the oven that your mom only makes for your dad on special occasions because it smells so strongly.

You are, of course, holding the traditional holiday candy called “Peeps” in your hand which you gobble all of in under 2 minutes.

You feel almost immediately sick.

Want to know why?

“Peeps,” otherwise known as Ollenulus Peepus, are actually an extinct and fossilized species. When you eat “Peeps” you are therefore eating fossils.

Should you eat fossils? I don’t think so; they undoubtedly cause stomachache.

Be safe this Easter holiday; be Peepless.

Monster Blood

2010-09-20T12:13:00.000-07:00

Besides being a Goosebumps book, Monster Blood also courses through monster veins and arteries. It pumps through monster hearts.

Octoblossoms

2010-09-15T12:11:00.000-07:00

Masquerading as harmless seeds in your crooked garden, Octoblossoms are dangerous crooks. They have crooked teeth, a crooked smile, a bunch of little crooked legs, and crooked little cute skirts.

They will destroy you by hook or by crook.

Probably by crook.

Keep an eye out for their crooked little box houses made of sticky tacky.

Cat Butt-Head

2010-09-12T14:11:00.000-07:00

If you give a mouse a cookie, he’ll want a glass of milk.

If you give a cat some sunglasses, he’ll unleash the horrifying snub-nosed creature that lives in his rear.

In Loving Memory of a Very Stupid Cat: Tiger (1996-2010)

Juanitasaurus

2010-07-27T13:18:00.000-07:00

In the news today: Juanitasaurus:

The Juanitasaurus, long thought extinct, has resurfaced in the quiet town of Post Mills, Vermont. This town, located five miles past Old City, VT and only 2 miles short of Beanville, VT, is enjoying its newfound sense of worth and glory.

“I’m not dead yet,” a 40 foot-long banner strung out across the town’s one mobile station accurately proclaims, because the strangest part of this story is that the Juanitasaurus is, in fact, alive.

Local 6 year old dinosaur expert John Little had this to say about this dinosaur’s mysterious living presence:

Well, it’s not dead, but it’s really slow. I think no one knew it was alive because it looks like wood, but if you try really hard and don’t blink for a really long time you can see its eyes moving like when dad pretends he’s sleeping on the couch so he doesn’t have to play outside.

What’s next for this slow and steady dinosaur? Locals seem to think it’s ready for the bigtime. Check out their website, and vote to get this giganta-beast its own reality show.

Monster Hypnosis

2010-07-03T15:39:00.000-07:00

My Old Apartment's Face

2010-07-02T19:23:00.000-07:00

Self-Addressing Clip

2010-07-01T07:20:00.000-07:00

Manhog Drives a 4-Wheeler

2010-06-08T20:22:00.000-07:00

Lakes and Crakes

2010-06-04T19:51:00.000-07:00

While many believe in a monster (known colloquially as ‘Champ’) who inhabits Lake Champlain, this photo shows disturbing evidence of another type of monster living in these quiet waters—a giant swan (known colloquially-er as ‘Gilberta’?).

Mountster St. Helens

2010-06-02T05:16:00.000-07:00

Sometimes monsters get so angry that their heads explode.

Maman

2010-06-01T01:35:00.000-07:00

A giant spider invading The National Gallery of Canada:

Symbols are only empty bottles. They function only through what you put in them -- personal symbols mean personal alphabet, our uniqueness is all we have.

RIP Louise Bourgeois.

Fieldwork

2010-05-30T20:22:00.000-07:00

This image of a Smug-Stone was captured in the field (Nevada) by Julia. She said that it burst into a forced and screeching vibrato slathered rendition of Danny Boy, and then fell silent and proud.

Horizon

2010-05-28T19:24:00.000-07:00

A lovingly captured monster-squid painted with watercolors by Greg Stone.

Dino Brush

2010-05-28T02:05:00.000-07:00

Trepidly tiptoe down the road—Dino Brush roars tidings of parties from the country roses.

Bucket Face

2010-05-26T22:36:00.000-07:00

Craftily hiding amongst poolside buckets, ol’ Bucket Face’ll tell ya what’s up. He’ll yell ya what’s up. Get ‘im back with a mondo-super-ultra cannonball ta chill ‘im out, ya know?

Golden Phone

2010-05-24T02:36:00.000-07:00

Soundtrack to a happy monster’s favorite dream:

Micachu and the Shapes—Golden Phone

Soul Purpose

2010-05-22T00:49:00.000-07:00

I had worked hard for nearly two years for the sole purpose of infusing life into an inanimate body.

From Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, a new breed of literary device– the ironic foreshadowing pun, or i-shadun.

Fire (not) Ice

2010-05-19T21:55:00.000-07:00

While some people may not think so, I’m inclined to argue that razing malls to the ground and creating widespread panic across a city with conflagrations is a monstrous thing to do. (((--)))

One of my students in a discussion yesterday (before my School was closed) about the many fires in Bangkok spoke with the Thai-style mentality of let’s-not-get-too-worked-up-over-this-thing:

“This means we can’t go shopping!”

BONUS :: A counter argument from friendly smoke. (((--)))

Monster Mash

2010-05-19T21:28:00.000-07:00

Monster party theme music:

Yeasayer: O.N.E. [Secretly Canadian]

Wiggle Toes

2010-05-18T20:49:00.000-07:00

If you don’t dance to this song…

…Monsters will turn your heart into a swarm of bees.

Masked Car-Butt

2010-05-17T02:17:00.000-07:00

Making a relationship between two contrasting images or ideas is startling and often results in Shock Monsters. The popular animated series “Happy Tree Friends” which juxtaposes cute cartoon animals, and horrifying displays of murder and blood has the strange effect of making the viewer feel a blend of comfort and disgust; she is disarmed.

This Hello Kitty inspired exhaust pipe left me laughing, repulsed and as confused as a crocodile wearing a dress.

Tickled Fickle-Feet

2010-05-15T05:14:00.000-07:00

If you don’t dance to this song…

…Monsters will eat all your second cousins.

Pineapple Surprise

2010-05-15T03:49:00.000-07:00

A sidewalk pineapple plant struck me as I walked by it. And it hurt. I turned to catch the smacksome villain who dared smite me and saw nothing. I looked again with my Camera Obscura, and found this treacherous roadside beast, eager to cause strife of all varieties. I threatened to chop off its head and eat it, and it quickly groveled while I walked away. By the time I reached the corner I could already hear it giggling again. Alas that my reprimand was overlooked so quickly, but then again, who would eat an unripe pineapple?

At Rest and Play

2010-05-06T22:32:00.000-07:00

Monsters lounging in masks- common disguises employed widely and frequently for a variety of purposes. Used here as recreational devices.

Photographed by Monster-Spotter-At-Large, Kate Neely.

Miniature Howler

2010-05-04T23:06:00.000-07:00

This fine example of a Miniature Howler poked its face out at me on my walk to work from its perch on the back of a truck. These creatures are mostly harmless, though thought by many to be pests, and named after the piercing screams they eternally issue. Some experts think that this Miniature variety came first into existence when a Howler (a much larger, nocturnal creature that has a taste for raw chicken) and a robot squirrel mated. Due to its size and ability to forage, the Miniature Howler has infested much of Northern Thailand.

To Create

2010-04-28T22:53:00.000-07:00

I have spent a year and a half of time pouring and tearing hairs out at my book baby. 191 single-spaced pages and half a bald head later, the first draft is finally done.

This whole book is but a draught—nay, but a draught of a draught. Oh, Time, Strength, Cash, and Patience !

While my book is literally “but a draught,” this quote from Moby Dick reflects the appalling and awesome amount of work that still needs to be done.

But for now: Celebration dance!

Cinaverat Fimos: Vacuum Extraordinaire

2010-04-21T08:16:00.000-07:00

Young Cinaverat Fimos1, vacuum extraordinaire, enjoyed eating dirt. He also liked to listen to his owner sing covers of Lady Gaga songs about love2 to him. Cinaverat Fimos often didn’t understand the lyrics, but he tried to enjoy the rhythms and notes.

His life started to suck the day he found himself tasting concrete.

“And STAY out,” his owner screamed. Cinaverat Fimos was optimistic and licked the sand off some little sidewalk pebbles.

“Hey, this isn’t too bad,” he thought to himself, “I could get used to this.” Just then two wicked girls ran by and started pushing him around and spitting on him.

“You SUCK!” They yelled at him, laughing. He nodded, but grew wary of their attentions. He decided to drink a potion that an ancient and wise ironing board gave him a while ago.

When he swallowed it, everyone fell in love with him and chased him around trying to ogle his trash sack. You see, the ironing board had been ancient and senile and had given Cinaverat Fimos a strong philter. It was so strong, that to escape the throngs of civilians, Cinaverat Fimos gave a mighty bound and leapt into a tree.

Unfortunately, Cinaverat Fimos, in all his thundering youth and stupidity, forgot that vacuums can’t climb down from trees so he died. Some people say that they can still see the ghostly remains of his fan belt sucking sadly at Vermont treetops, but some people are liars.

1 Foreshadowing #1 [(Please forgive my (rusty Latin/ dear Aunt Sally)]

2 Foreshadowing #2

Monolith

2010-04-18T07:39:00.000-07:00

Near the monkeys and baboons of the Chiang Mai Zoo, this fearsome monolith eternally mouths his tepid putrescence at the live trees swishing above.

Kate snagged this great shot before we made ourselves scarce.

Animal Collective

2010-04-06T19:42:00.000-07:00

Monsters make masterful music.

Idiomatic tragic, they bend ears to their winsome wills.

Jeannie Tate

2010-04-04T22:27:00.000-07:00

This video (esp. between the time 3:36 and 3:41) reveals some disturbing evidence: Jeannie Tate is a hilarious monster capable of eating her own face.

Think Tank (Play in One Act)

2010-04-04T02:07:00.000-07:00

(Curtain opens to an empty stage. TT, a large, red, metal box sits exactly Center S. ME enters wearing sunglasses and a contemplative expression)

TT—Hey, girl in the sunglasses, what are you thinking about?

ME—(Stops and looks around in confusion) Hmm? Did you just speak to me large red metal sidewalk box?

TT—Yeah, call me Think Tank. What are you thinking about?

ME—Think Tank? Oh, umm I guess I’m just thinking about life. Life and the tomatoes I’m about to buy.

TT—Oh yeah? Life and tomatoes? That sounds pretty complicated. Take a seat and let’s talk it out.

ME—Okay, I’m not really in a rush to get anywhere. Where should I sit?

TT—Come on in, I’m well air-conditioned.

(TT’s face cracks open slightly. The opening reveals a small padded room. ME looks in, but isn’t convinced)

ME—It looks pretty small in there.

TT—Come on, girl, it’s not small, it’s snug. Don’t you remember comfort? Think about my four precise walls touching each other at exactly 90 degrees. Just imagine the luxuries available when everything is right or wrong.

ME—I don’t know…That seems like an over-simplified way of looking at life and problem solving.

TT—Get in already, girl. Hurry up!

(Smoke curls out of TT’s cracked face. Girl starts backwards in a great hurry.)

ME—I really must be going, those tomatoes might be sold out by now, I’ll see you later TT.

(ME trips as she tries to exit Stage R. She falls to the ground and explodes into a million shards of glass. Orchestra begins slow crescendo of warm-up noises.)

TT—(Barely audible over progressively loud orchestra) Grad school will get you girl, even if didn’t today.

(Curtain.)

Teddy Bears

2010-03-30T23:42:00.000-07:00

I wake up every morning. I brush my teeth, get dressed, stare blankly at myself in the mirror, and go to work. Then I do everything again the next morning. And the morning after that.

I thought my life would continue on in this comfortable way until the morning I looked out my window1 and saw that the world was really being run by giant teddy bears continuously crawling out of the ocean and eating people.

That shook things up a bit.

1 “Window” here rhetorically stands in for Sachar Mathias’ tumblr account.

Wilting Wails

2010-03-24T00:56:00.000-07:00

The delicately scented trees towering above--

“Have one on me” dripping into my thirsty ears--

My Costco brand sneakers burning up the fitness park trail--

ceased to be important at the sounding of a small incessant wail that left me shaking.

I searched for the epicenter of this low-coming noise. Its found face paralyzed me with a tripping combination of fear and empathy. Here was a once massive beast imprisoned in the thin shell of a leaf. Whatever mage turned this fearsome hulk into something a few inches long left it with the chilling power of wailing.

It sounded like a warning.

I ran away.

Worrisome Fossil

2010-03-10T07:42:00.000-08:00

Fossils sometimes appear in unlikely places. Often when this happens in America, instead of slaps on boney wrists, the powers that be give out medals. These naughty bags of bones become known as “State Fossils.” Disregarding the blatant favoritism involved with getting awards (not punishments) for being in unusual places1, let’s look at an example.

The Vermont State Fossil (Delphinapterus leucas, ‘Dauphin’ for short) was found when some 1849y locals dug it up looking for a railroad. They called it “Burt” but were reportedly disappointed by its dull attitude towards life. Upon giving to the government2 it was renamed with much sciencey thought. In 1993 it was given an award for being so whale-like, dead, and Vermonty3.

However many issues I have with fossils and their privileges, I have no bones to pick with their deadness. That is exactly why this recent fossil find of mine is so terrifying.

I have reason to believe that this orange bone is a fossil of some tall and terrifying beast. A beast which roams the streets of Chiang Mai in odious packs. I have yet to see a living form of this monster, but neither have I seen a bodied one in death. They are alive, or they are fossils. I truly am at a loss. Even as I write this I lock my windows and try not to make eye contact with the faces peeping in.

1 “Roofs of academic buildings are for keeping rain and snow out of classrooms, NOT for bawdy children to crawl all over.” –Saint Michael’s Security Guard #3

2 Probably still the Green Mountain Boys at this time, although I make no claims as to being a historian.

3 “That was the worst acceptance speech I’ve ever heard in my whole goddamn life.” –Saint Michael’s Security Guard #3

O-Range Bit

2010-03-07T17:31:00.000-08:00

I was sprawled reading on concrete steps when I noticed my toes were being nibbled by a puddle of blossoms at my feet. Closer inspection--the “blossoms” were O-range Bits. Closer still—interspecies war: fire ants versus O-range Bits.

O-range Bits (named thusly for their terrifying and fang-ringed ‘O’ mouths) live in trees until the day they plop down. Once arrayed in a pile upon the ground they roil in a Dionysian frenzy of nectar, biting, and being small[1]. In such a state of active energy they attack anything that gets too close, and bit the hardest at feet and small bugs.

I got away with only a few of my smaller toes missing, but continued to document the plight of the ants and the desperation of the O-Range Bits from afar.

This photo is from the ranks of the fallen Bits and may be a bit graphic for some audiences.

[1] Lives which seem simple, but are probably just being over simplified here by me. I found it difficult to study this species closely; language barriers (as well as size differences) prevented both a figurative and a literal foothold in their society.

Phylacteries

2010-03-02T07:46:00.000-08:00

An important step to monster seeking is using proper protection. Many theorists argue whether these precursory steps are fair; the logical foundation of their arguments run similar to the “When-I-Can-Chase-A-Deer-With-No-Shoes-On-And-Kill-It-With-My-Own-Hands-THEN-I’ll-Eat-Meat” argument. Let’s assume for the sake of time that 1) deer do not equal monsters, 2) rifles and camouflage do not equal phylacteries, and 3) deer never wear shoes.

Monster hunters construct these protective phylacteries1 individually; they are localized in their ingredients, creation, and purposes. Anything from potions to spray bottles have been documented as effective. I created this Leaf Shield from leaves pilfered2 from an arboretum near my apartment in Chiang Mai. It hangs near my minuscule porch where it stops monsters from sneaking in through my lockless screen door.

The sight of lions or dragons guarding temples around Chiang Mai is a common one. In a frenzy of masking tape one afternoon this green dragon appeared on my wall. Normally fearful of such vicious creatures, I deliberated taking this fierce lady down. Her appearance was marked by such a strange surge of peace I decided she must be an image of my room’s guardian.

These strange creations on Kate’s walls were scoured out by us in much the same way as my dragon. Although her phylactery became very toothy, she remained pleasant. I rest easier at night knowing that we are both protected by these towering flat behemoths.

1 I would use this word’s cousin ‘talisman’ but shudder at how embedded ‘man’ is. ‘Taliswoman’ has less resonance, and ‘talisperson’ is too anthropomorphic. Greek it is!

2 Unknowingly stolen. They had fallen on the ground and I collected the fresher and more pliable looking ones. Upon leaving the scene I was accosted by a group of Thai workers who mimed written permission and peered into my clutched bag of evidence. I smiled and apologized until they handed me some tamarinds and a blossom and wandered away.

Birds

2010-02-26T05:11:00.000-08:00

Slip but don’t fall. Who knows where it goes?

The Littlest Birds - The Be Go...

Camera Obscura

2010-02-24T00:18:00.000-08:00

Eyes see what we think. Whether it’s something we like, or something we’re afraid of, mind pictures are not an objective summary of life (is such a thing possible?). Even cameras lie, and tell stories that have narrators and hopes. The two dimensional form they squash real space into is shaded all over with these ideas. So many beautiful ideas.

In the realm of monsters it’s important to remember that some of these creatures have been hitherto unknown. How can our eyes see un-liked, un-feared and un-thought quantities? Clearly, we need some help. This help comes in the form of my camera obscura, passed down (somewhat awkwardly due to its strange boxy shape) to me from a long line of monster-hunting ancestors. My camera obscura snags shots that slip my eyes’ grasp.

Here’s a freshly coiffed and slightly titillating monster lurking by the side of the superhighway on Chiang Mai. I stopped for a drink on my long dusty passage and had a feeling about that hair.

Kate helped wielded the unwieldy box to capture this fight. It happened with little understanding at the time. Instinct takes over, and time moves in circles more silly than usual.

small

2010-02-16T01:44:00.000-08:00

Small spaces fill me with intrigue. When a box (real or imaginary) catches a space inside of it, I feel myself pushing the possibilities of the area.[1] I strain to find something that fits physically, but that tells an intricate gangle of a story that touches far from itself.

These are the positive wonders, the wonders of when the sun shines. At night (real or imaginary) parasitic monsters leak into these boxes however hard I try to keep them out. They move with frightening speed and accuracy and aren’t content to merely touch far from themselves. Their touch is infections. Their touch is teeth.

Here are some found monsters. Thankfully, I met them in the heat of the day when their stories where warm and only mildly insolent.

I tremble at the thought of the terrible teeth they must grow every evening.

Kate poured this one into her mouth where it left her with a soulful glow of caffeine.

Harmless enough, but don’t pick those flowers. This monster’s heavy face can break your heart and your hand just as quickly.

Mailpeople have the most difficult time getting junk mail to stick in this retching wall guardian.

[1] This is when Wall-Tape Monsters and Sewn Leaf Palettes come into existence.

Generation Monster

2010-02-11T03:26:00.000-08:00

Someone who knows a lot about things that I generally don’t once told me that my generation was the scariest group of people ever to have the responsibility of life stuffed into their hands.

It’s because we were raised by television monsters.

Silence

2010-02-09T04:10:00.000-08:00

Silence is golden. Silence is being quiet. Silence is hearing yourself breathe. Silence is not hearing any breath. Silence is what you commanded. Silence is a gap. Silence is words, ideas, terrors running through my crinkled mind.

Silence is a monster?

Silence is two perfect seconds.

El Pico - Ratatat

Bejeweled

2010-02-09T03:57:00.000-08:00

Ever unrelenting, monsters pace the outer edges. They stare in from dark places that we learn as young children to fear. Places of shame. Places of wild disorder. Places of disobedience.

Places of vanity and cannibalism.

These bejeweled dragons nearly shocked me off the sidewalk with such a spectacle. To retaliate, I bought the plainest socks I could find and nibbled my fingers when no one was watching.

Hexed

2010-02-04T20:11:00.000-08:00

Monsters are often fickle and prone to tempestuous mood swings. When dealing with them it is best to use caution, politeness, and a big stick in whatever order seems most pertinent.

While wandering in Nevada, Kate and Julia attempted to soothe a rock monster who apparently misunderstood their actions and decided to take revenge. As monster aficionados, we should have donned our bright orange safety vests and beat the rock with big sticks while apologizing profusely. We did not, and now Kate must suffer the consequences.

The sour-faced rock cursed unaware Kate with a hex which will eventually turn her into a tree-person. That rock monster has proved to be particularly powerful, or just particularly insulted at Kate and Julia’s imitations, and dealt Kate a curse the consumes her with agonizing slowness. After weeks of nails falling out and bark erupting in rashy patches, only Kate’s left arm is a stick.

Her other limbs remain fleshy; there have been worries of leaves, but it is not known at this time if leaves are growing on her head or merely seeking shelter there. All that is left to do is water her feet and hope.

Olde Monsters: Money

2010-01-27T02:33:00.000-08:00

Some aspects of monstrosity are those which come hand in hand with living in a capitalist society. Money makes the world go around; there is no limit to what can be put up for sale.

Trinkets, food, clothing, potted plants: these are the obvious examples of things which are available to be bought or sold. Buying any of these objects exemplify (even as this example simplifies) the utilitarian aspect of money. The idea of weaving yards of material out of cotton fibers to barter it for apples does not appeal to me. I would much rather wipe the butts of the elderly or speak in broken English with Thai people to make money I can buy apples with.

I’m not concerned about the buying and selling of tee-shirts or fruit, but I quake at the idea that happiness or love (themselves intangible and abstract) are able to be bought with the same money with which I buy socks. I do not feel loving, loved or even particularly happy when I buy socks. Even when I feel grateful at purchasing fruit, my gratitude stems not from ownership of fruit, but from the growls in my abdomen which are quenched when I eat the fruit.

I fear for the future of the beautiful young man pictured here. His pose indicates that he not only believes in the statement graffitied behind him but is enthralled with its message. In order to counteract this message, I will buy socks fervently and with growing depression until I can make this person understand that money does not equal love/happiness. I encourage all of you to do the same.

Yellog: The Thai Underdog

2010-01-26T03:06:00.000-08:00

Some monsters stew in secret. They wait for darkness to eat up the sunlight so they can billow around in shadows.

Some blind us with beauty. They throw wonderful straw men in our faces and hearts that make us forget the evil brewing beneath their charms.

And some are blatant and rely on brute strength to force us to their bidding. A sub-group of this blatant type are yellow and resemble giant humanoid dogs. This particular brand of monster, a Yellog, is both blatant and stupid. Yellogs are easily caught and trained by Green Professionals[i]. Which, luckily, are at least as abundant Yellogs.

[i] This is especially true when the GP in question has a 30 meter scarf at his disposal (Yellogs have very sensitive throats and are incapacitated by even something light and soft twined around their necks) which he, of course, has.