norwottuck animation
I’ve been working on this test animation, on and off, for about a week. The music was recorded and the source video was shot all in one day, but it’s taken about a week to animate. I’m very proud of how it came out; the DVD-quality version is really pretty, but since you’re not at my apartment, this smaller QuickTime version will have to do:
Norwottuck Rail Trail (use QuickTime 7 or VLC to view)
~jeff
October 7th, 2005 at 4:54 pm
Jeff-
You seem to have found yourself another vehicle in which to convey your genius to the rest of us, who are helpless to do anything but stand in seemingly endless lines and trample each other to limp lifelessness at the faintest hint of the coming of a new Hobbs original. I would pour sugar in the gas tank of the second coming of Jesus’ RX-8 if I thought it might get me closer. Needless to say, that would put me only ankle-deep in the wretched, bottomless waters of abominable sin through which I would blissfully dive to reach the uncharted depths of malevolence necessary to keep me within a six-hour flight of your inner-circle. But before I dash hopelessly towards the eye of another Jeff Hobbs ego-tickling, balls-deep suckfest, I would like to put an end to this jibber jabber long enough to cash in a favor… (remember that time I bought you that beer?… that “tall” beer?…)
While this newest creative outlet is certainly a nice, full, pendulous set of tits above and beyond some of the shit you’ve been choking me with lately, I need to ask that you suspend all other artistic endeavors for enough time that you could become my voice on an anxiety that has become such a cancer in me that it has toxified, blackened and corroded my spirit to the point of silence and immobility that I can compare only to the cold grip of death itself. In case you haven’t already guessed, I’m speaking of “emoticons”.
While I never granted them much thought beyond being a new, trivial manner of communication for the most spiritually bereft of “individuals” within a culture so obsessed with symbols and abbreviation, it has now been years since my tolerance was first tested. I am now reduced to a quivering, soiled, dumb, wordless mute with ruddy features, a grinding jaw and fists that are clenched to just below the point at which the bones of my fingers would suffer stress-fracture every time I see them in use. It seems I will never be able to escape. Co-workers,.. family,.. and now even friends are beginning to allow these hate-symbols to enter their electronic vocabulary. I have had friendships survive defects in the human condition ranging from infidelity to addiction, but I don’t think I can find any part of my soul that might forgive this. How could I forgive those long nights when my loving fiancé would have to talk the pencils out of my hands, whose sharpened points were readied and taking dead aim at the centers of my pupils, ensuring an otherwise easy end to this abomination?
That is why I need you to become my voice, Jeff. I am helpless, and yours is the only wit I can trust to cut deep enough that it might start a fatal bleed. I need you to deal whimsical jabs like aces. One after the other so that I might sit back and hurl fistfuls of popcorn at the screen in enraptured agreement, pausing only long enough to recover those pieces caught on the belly of my stained “amimorganfreemanornot.com” t-shirt, and to recover my breathing after freeing those other morsels that have been deflected to the “wrong pipe” as a result of my epileptic glee.
Go on now, Jeff, and make me proud!!
And may God help you if you begin with “So what’s the deal with emoticons?…”
October 7th, 2005 at 5:11 pm
Is that going to be a volkswagon commercial?