Gary L. Simmons  rev 05/19/05
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Art Portfolio

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This section is my adolescent art. This is the stuff that we all drew during school when we were so bored we sat at our desks with swollen tongues and imagined teleporting the teacher onto a distant alien planet filled with the dreaded brain eating Factoids. Whose idea was it to put minds which were racing at 100 miles per hour into a room with Ben Stiller/Al Gore clones and let them woodenly drone out information at 5 mph on George Washington Carver and his damn peanuts? Not mine. Not yours. We had the cure though, we lost ourselves in a world of our own making. We had the tools at our disposal, a vast fiery imagination, a pencil and a piece of binder  

paper. Normally these things were created for the moment, to provide a cell mate with a single brief moment of sensation and then discarded as the crap they were. For some reason I kept a number of them. After having reviewed them lately I really wish I had kept more, as they really take me back to those days in school.

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At the Pentagon, a furious General Drake slams down the bakelite receiver of his telephone. A moment of silence witnesses a series of poorly suppressed emotions which only has his face for a stage. Grimly, General Drake picks up the Red Telephone. Without the necessity of dialing, there is only a brief 3 second delay before the voice of President Eisenhower responds.

"Sir, the situation is more serious than we could have possibly imagined. Within minutes of the alien rocket ship landing in the Arizona mountains our finest saber jets were there to recon the area. They were greeted with hostility by the largest creature ever to walk the earth. 3 of my jets are down. They report a gargantuan and monstrous being that appears to be part insect and part sea creature. It can produce a deadly destructive ray of some sort from it's antennae. Our weapons HAVE NO EFFECT on the creature!"

From the Red Telephone a distant muffled voice speaks in a rapid monotone.

" Mr. President", rasps General Drake, "I have no choice but to recommend the Atomic Bomb!"
Miss Cooke
In every child's educational experience there is one that stands out above all the others. Sometimes a young female teacher will make an incredible impression on an adolescent male student with a propensity for wearing his heart on his sleeve. Such is the case here. Miss Cooke occupied an enormous portion of my fantasy world, and resulted in her being the subject of many of the sketches I drew while in her class. Her presentation of English Literature is still with me today because of the intense feelings I had for her. Here in loving detail is a drawing I did in class that sums up the cavernous depths of my feelings towards this educator.
Future Man
In the incredible year 400 billion, man has changed dramatically. A product of his own self imposed environment he has evolved and over the countless eons of time he has adapted to the conditions he has been born to. Gone is the bushy bushy blond hairdo, horn rim glasses, and appendix. Gone also is the frivolity of time and energies wasted in those pursuits which bore no fruit. Man is now a thinking machine, devoted entirely to the acquisition of knowledge.

His legs will have atrophied from disuse as he now spends his entire lifetime sitting and reading. In stunning contrast, his arms will have become bulky with muscle from the lifting of tons of books and the constant manipulation of slide rules. His fingers are now long and slender to facilitate the turning of pages. A massive neck will support a cranium grown to tremendous porportions. Our ears will be dish like to gather more information and will be tuned to the frequencies of human speech and will filter out the static from school projectors during educational movies. Our eyes have become as large as saucers and can scan an entire page of information in a glance. Our teeth and digestive system will have devolved to those of sea creatures because our diet will consist entirely of brain food, fish. And finally, we will have evolved a subconsciously projected personal force field to protect ourselves so that we may concentrate on our studies undistracted.

Come with me now, if you dare, to view the chilling creature we will all become... and remember if you think he is hideous, think of the amusement and disdain he experiences when he views your ancient and primitive fossilized bones.
Self Portrait
At this time in my life surfing was very important to me. I found the combination of nature's soothing symphony of ocean, wind and the call of sea birds truly and profoundly relaxing. When I am surfing it is though I have left my old self far behind and have joined Neptune's children in the graceful dance of the sea. After catching a wave to the shore I would be shocked back to reality as I witnessed the dismal and chaotic existence of my fellow humans. Inspired to share my ocean-Zen-trance with others so that they may suckle at the breast of my inner peace, I drew this self portrait. This self portrait is the sum of the psyche of the incarnation of my inner child as it floats in the amniotic love ether of the womb that is surfing.
Long before Pathfinder and the tragic failure of the Mars Polar Lander, long before television science fiction and B movies, long before pulp science fiction and novels by H. G. Wells, long before the Pope burned people alive for writing about it, long before Aristotle's boy friend pioneered palimony, long before cavemen danced naked in front of a fire while wearing only a mangy skin hat from a clubbed wombat, people have been wondering what life on the planet Mars would look like. I of all my classroom peers was selected to be the recipient of a telepathic vision. Along with my vision was a message, a tome of hope and inspiration and guidance for humanity. This message was for all men, be he a grit-eating nose-picking curb monkey or a lying pickle-polishing "leader" of a nation. Awash in desk drool, I awoke from my vision and immediately recorded it on binder paper for all of mankind. Nobody ever thanked me either!
War Brought Home
You read about it in the paper every day. War. It always seems so distant and impersonal. The horrors of war are so mind boggling that it is incomprehensible for you or I to... er... comprehend (sorta painted myself into the corner there). Anyway, how do I convey the needlessness of the absolutely despicable acts that one man may commit against another? How do I bring the concept of war to the average Joe? This hard hitting expose on the brutality of war you are about to download is how. Please be forewarned, the image you are about to view is graphic in nature... JPEG I believe.
I moved to the Philippines when I was 14 and instantly became a beach bum. That calling was but one of the many tragic results of my post pubescence. Early on I developed a morbid fascination with sharks and presented here is the first of a short series of shark pics that reflect that obsession. The species of shark represented here is the dreaded Bone Sucking Shark. This shark had the most fearful means of feeding of all the families of man eating sharks. Apparently from this graphic, the shark would literally suck every cell of flesh right off a man's bones not unlike Marlon Brando power vacuuming the meat off of a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken drumsticks.
Surfers are a close knit group of sporting enthusiasts. We are always looking out for the other guy and many of us have taken the bullet for another surfing companion. That is just the caliber of people we tend to be. Our tremendous compassion for one another meets and exceeds the requirements for the job that Mother Theresa signed up for. We are as the Corsican Brothers, feeling one another's pain just exactly the same as Slick Willie Clinton feels each of your pains. Here in loving, feeling, fluffy, warm, and fuzzy detail is a dramatic representation of just how we are always there for one another.
Certain shark behaviors are learned. Much as the common household frizbee dog learns that it will get a treat from its master if it can catch the flying platter, the Frizbee Shark has learned that if it hangs around sharp, jagged, barnacle crusted, spired and pointy rocks some idiot will soon surf near them. All a Frizbee Shark need do to supply its bottomless maw with fresh wiggling meat is to loiter patiently with its head stuck out of the water like Flipper and catch the first fool to fly by. In a grim reversal, one is reminded of the bears in the Northwest sitting at the top of a waterfall catching salmon as they migrate to spawn. Of such is the wild kingdom.
Not only is this the photo that got Kahuna impeached, it is the only known picture of the Bone Sucking Shark! Notice if you will, the rib cage of the body that is sinking and the skull lying on the ocean floor. SUCKED CLEAN! Yes, only the horrific Bone Sucking Shark will do such a thing to its victims. If we can manage to swallow our revulsion and urges to harpoon this denizen that claws at our nightmares we might learn something about the behavior of this creature. Due to the reduction in size of this picture it is difficult to make out, but that is a human ear floating between the partially consumed corpse and the swimmer. The skull was totally sucked clean except for the ear. Therefore it isn't the gristle in the ear that repelled the shark for the gristle in the nose was vacuumed clean off the skull. Perhaps the Bone Sucking Shark saved the tastiest morsel for last and is now making a pass to pop it into its happy little mouth while it does the "mmmm mmm twinkie dance" you often see small children doing. There is SO MUCH yet to be learned about the Bone Sucking Shark and other hideous monsters that actually really should be nuked off the face of the planet instead.
I'm not completely stupid. I know a lot of you skeptics think the Frizbee Shark is just an illusory by-product of my cornucopic blow hole. Well here is proof I was not just making it up! I have here yet another unretouched picture of the controversial Frizbee Shark. Notice if you will this shark ALSO has his head stuck out of the water like Flipper waiting for a fish to be tossed to him. What do you say NOW?? SEE!!!
War of the Worlds
War is an UGLY thing, well not as ugly as say, hmmmm... Rosie O'Donnell waking up in the morning, but it is pretty diddily dang ugly let me tell you yessiree Bob! Once again the topic of war occupies my otherwise vacuous adolescent brain pan. What were we studying that day in school? Who knows! I was busy fleshing out this confrontation. If one were to resist the temptation of wading the picture up and attempting to make a basket in the trash can, one could see that the peaceful nearby planet (Svornia) has been attacked and has a huge chunk blown out of it. The Svorn Empire has launched a vicious counter attack consisting of a fleet of automated destruct-o missiles.
Egg Shells
Yes, I am a health nut. My body is a temple, well not so much a Shirley Temple as it is a pimple temple, but it IS a temple. Of sorts. OK OK, it doesn't have an alter where beasts are relieved of their existence and set ablaze. And although I once swallowed a little plastic army man, there is no real statuary to speak of in me. I know what you are thinking, Conan the Barbarian has NEVER once snuck into me and killed a giant snake, I'll grant you that. ::sigh:: Yes yes it's true, my body doesn't have lots of worshipers walking in and out of it nor after I die will there be a tradition of head bobbing Hebrews wailing at where I used to sit. ALL RIGHT! My body isn't a @#$%^&*! temple already. Sorry I brought it up. Bugger off already. But I'm sticking to my segue and I'm a health nut and I eat healthy food blah blah, now go look at the damn picture and admire my spelling!
As a fragile and sensitive youth, given to the vapors and fainting, the subject of capital punishment was not brought up in my presence in my home. It wasn't until Junior High that this horrific subject was presented to us in the classroom. We were told of how a heartless and self-righteous government has taken it upon itself to execute those convicted of certain heinous crimes against humanity. Furthermore it was explained how the constitution protected its citizens against cruel and unusual punishment. This was all so new to me and so difficult to comprehend that such a thing was happening here in America. I immediately penned this letter to President Kennedy. Boy am I lucky I never sent it but instead just slipped it to the classmates seated near me. Such activism, I am sure, would not be very well received.
Revolt On Mongo
Well, you are probably wondering what the hell I am foisting on you now, right? Well this isn't actually a flim flam so much as it is a lesser micro scam or some minor leg pulling hog hooie. I am not trying to convince you that this is real in any way, my point is that THIS COULD HAPPEN. Oh sure, it couldn't happen on the head of a pin because of all those big butted manna fed angels slam dancing on it. True, it couldn't happen in the Clinton Oval Office cause they would have to wear raincoats to keep any of IT from getting on them and there are no raincoats on Mongo. Equally improbable would be for this to happen say, in this dimension/universe/psycho-play/Platonic conceptualization... but HELL it had to have happened somewhere because I got this DAMN PICTURE OF IT!!! So, anyway, here is the sad documentation of the breakdown of negotiations in the Planet Mongo peace talks of the Jelly People of Zebulon..... Hey, I heard what you just said!!! I'm not nuts... YOU'RE nuts!!
Modern Art
When I lived in the Philippines we had a maid. She would make the most incredible spam sandwiches this side of a sun baked dumpster. I mean these sandwiches were so bad that if a fly landed on one the fly would get this disgusted look on it's face then go wipe its feet off on some dog shit. I am convinced to this day that spam has psychotropic properties and can lead to permanent brain damage. I mean, just look at me today! So anyway, this picture was drawn under the influence of an uncooked spam and mayo sandwich that sat unrefrigerated for 5 hours in a paper bag in my locker in the tropics. No joke, I'm lucky to be alive.
Remember the glow-in-the-dark radium dial watch? That innocuous invention from a more innocent era has turned out to be the very locus in the twist of evolution that redirected our path from becoming perfected, shining, angelic beings of light to... well, er, something "else". Now, in the fantastic year 93,568,999 the various genetic schemata known as our new DNA no longer spirals, it loopty loops, does the hokey pokey and swallows it's own tail. Yes, just because we wanted to know what time the damn neighbors dog was barking in the wee hours of the morning, we are now 32 feet tall from the tip of our horns to the web of our feet. Our double-forked tongues and quadra-tentacled arms are no more outrageous to our distant progeny than their little pig noses, dagger-like teeth and deelie-bopper eyeball feelers. Apparently our minds will have degraded to those of a Fredericks of Hollywood model because according to the graphic I am about to present here, all it will take to make us as happy as an itchy hog rubbing against a rail fence is a good snug pair of leopard print underpants!
Thor's Hammer
July 5, 1960, Galdhøpiggen Peak, Norway. An archaeological team working out of the small town of Kyrkja and under the supervision of Dr. Erlend Bjørge from the University of Oslo has recovered an ancient document from the glacier ice during the summer thaw that has the potential to blow the lid off of the world wide theological community. The Ecumenical Council of European Churches has angrily denounced the document as a fraud and points to the blue lines and binder paper holes found in the controversial document and its carbon dating estimating the date that the document was created at approximately July 1, 1960. Experts in the field are undecided and a heated debate (read scream fest) has ensued. View the document that started the hub bub and decide it's authenticity for yourself!

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