New Day (Part 3)

What was... life? What was it, but a slight flicker of light in the vast darkness of the universe? What separated that which lived from that which was inanimate, and what made man and beast draw breath? Those were great questions asked by great men. Grek was not one of them.
Seeing what separated the living and the dead in the village he had just attacked was easy, Grek thought. It was the energy blade he pulled out from the bloodied corpse of a man who had assaulted him with a wooden pitchfork. It was the rock an unfortunate villager had hit with his head as he tripped while running away from the black-armoured warriors, and it was the precise aim of a fellow warrior, striking another foolish villager who’d armed himself with a bow and a quiver of arrows. Understanding life was hard, Grek reflected, understanding death was easy. The end of all things. Oblivion. Darkness. In many ways, nothing made so much more sense than something. But then again, Grek was no sage.
He dropped the dead body to the ground as he lifted his sight to survey the conquered village. Warriors clad in obsidian steel with a blue shimmer to them walked all across it, subduing terrified survivors with voiceless commands. Men, women and children cowered pathetically in the mud as they begged intensely for mercy. Grek had not come to bring mercy. He had come to bring the light of day. The light of New Day.
Where life was a spark in cold, deep water, the light of New Day was an everlasting, imperishable flame. It would burn away the mists and cobwebs of the long night, it would fill the void of the universe, for so had the Many promised him. Grek was certain in his mission and in his cause.
“Orlam-Nebet,” a voice rang in the mindweb. Grek could sense its direction and turned to face one of the warriors that had participated in the assault. Their two metallic masks met with, and blue fire emanated from their eyes.
“Yes, Oppandas Seimu?” he responded to the soldier, who he knew best as Olmek.
“The village has been pacified, sir. All villagers have been accounted for, all resistance have been put down,” Olmek said. His mental voice yielded no sign of exhaustion. The battle had been short, and minor. Regular humans had little to stand up with against the might of the Chosen Warriors of the Many.
“Good, Oppandas. You may commence with the next step. I will be meditating,” Grek said as he turned towards a suitable hill overlooking the conglomeration of houses below.
“Yes sir. Honour to you, Orlam-Nebet,” said the younger Warrior before began issuing order over other chords of the mindweb. Grek could sense them, being the leader, but he chose not to hear them.
The setting sun bathed everything in a fiery hue. The memory of a orb of flame descending upon his home and the following escape snuck its way into his mind, memories of a time he could not say how long since. He remembered his uncle, his brother, the people trying to flee away from the destruction behind them, and of course the intense fear of dying.
Death; it was the end of all things. Nothing more. Darkness, oblivion. He remembered once being tantalized by this thought, but not anymore. The Many had promised him a life eternal. When he finally would exhale his last breath, and the darkness would overtake him, the Many would seize his spirit and pull him back from oblivion. They would bathe him in their minds, and he would become a part of them, directing the light of the New Day to all corners of the multiverse.
His musings were abruptly stopped by the incoming shape of what more than anything else symbolized the next step in bringing people the light. At first, it would appear like a rectangular, black shape in the sky, but as it came closer, Grek’s enhanced vision could make out a slightly pointed front, and triangular shapes surrounding the entirety of the back rectangle making up the bulk of the flying vessel. The shapes had their longest side attached to the vessel, standing vertically like giant arrowheads, their tips pointing upwards around the edge, and one of the edges extending from the vessel. As it moved closer, Grek saw the pilot sitting upon a pedestal almost at the very front, only superseded by a hook-like prow. Within the bow of the hook, a large blue crystal spun with great velocity, feeding the craft with its arcane power. His eyes automatically zoomed in on the craft, estimating its velocity and instinctively calculating its course. It hovered over the conquered village for a while, like a giant vulture skeptically observing its prey in search of life signs.
Grek stood up and began walking downwards to the village center.
“All perimeters safe? Answer men of Seimu,” he questioned over the mindweb.
“Odoaker Seimu, north side safe,” the first answer came.
“Ayubar Seimu, south side safe,” a second sounded.
“Lyndro Saimu here, the east side remains uneventful.” Good, now Grek waited for the last voice to ring in.
“Orlam-Nebet, I have yet to account for Arpratan Seimu, Oppandas Seimu over,” said the last voice in the mindweb.
“Where was his last reported position?” Grek messaged.
“In the western swamps. He was reportedly on his way to participate in the attack. I presumed he had been delayed by the terrain,” Oppandas responded.
Arpratan, that would be Galevo in personal name, Grek mused. Galevo would not let a mere swamp delay him, that much he knew. And if he had, then he would certainly not remain silent about it, someone would have had received a mess-
“Orlam-Nebet, I have a mindweb transmit!” he heard the young and eager voice of Ligaste, known outside his armour as Yuobe.
“I have a positive position, Orlam-Nebet,” sent the mindvoice again. “He appears to be wounded.”
“Oppandas, take with you Ligaste and retrieve our brother warrior. Make it quick,” Grek ordered. “I want mindweb contact in within standard intervals.”
“Affirmative, Orlam-Nebet. With outmost haste!” With that, he saw the monochrome, dark shapes of young Ligaste and Grek’s second-in-command Oppandas run towards the brown mists of the eastern swamps.
The Orlam-Nebet himelf, leader and father-figure of the Seimu fraternity of warriors, looked to the sky, at the still hovering craft. It was as dark as the armour of the warriors on the ground, and it even radiated the same obsidian like shine. The same blue lines of power traversed its surface, and the same mysterious crystal powered it. Like the armour he wore and was, it too was a relic of the Many, crafted for the warriors so that they might easier bring the light to the far corners of the multiverse, and fear no foe that inhabited it.
“This is Orlam-Nebet of Seimu, the area is secured. You are cleared for descent,” he sent across the mindweb to the pilot.

New Day (Part 2)

New to the story? See New Day (Part 1)

It had been nearly five hours of steady, unending walking. It had been five grueling hours of careful stalking through the waist-high waters of the swamp. He had taken all precautions. It had been done to all specifications, done to the very highest of standards that could be expected from one of the Augmented. It had all been in vain.
When it came, he barely had time to react. When it came he was tossed away like a leaf in an autumn storm. He was taller than any man, and heavier too, he was clad in holy armour, and yet the monster threw him several feet, his trajectory only stopped by a tree that broke in half as he smashed into it. The half-rotten trunk fell upon him, sending him deep into the brown waters. Instantly his superhuman body reacter. His body twisted, his feet kicked against the muddy bottom, and within an instant he drew himself up from the water. Gavelo wiped his ruby eye-goggles, searching for the monster that had completely ambushed him. His enhanced senses searched for, his eyes that could penetrate even the darkest places and sense even the heat of the body, his ears that blocked out sounds that were irrelevant and prevented him from ever being dizzy or nauseus. His nose that could pick and recall more smells than he cared to think of. They were divine instruments given to him by the Many as he had suffered in the Pools of Augmentation. And his screams of agony had not been in vain; they located the being. This time, Galevo did not intend to be surprised.
Quickly, the power crystal located in his backpack began humming stronger. Galevo drove his hands into the side of the belt, two pieces arcana automatically strapping themselves to the hand’s wrists as he pulled it out again. A previously unnoticeable cable going the length from the housing of the power crystal to the wrist-mounted heads began crackling with energy. The heads glowed faintly blue. After a second’s aim, Galevo mentally ordered the heads to release their stored energy. Two short, glass-like blasts of blue energy flew from his hand, striking the water with a sizzling sound. Galevo stood still to verify a hit. He waited for the body to rise ot surface, or signs of a fluid either his eyes or nose could recognize as blood. Nothing happened. Then, just as he realized his terrible error, the monster erupted from the murky waters from behind, Galevo, wise from injury spun around and jumped sideways, his armour allowing him to leap far away before the crushing blow of the beast’s serpentine jaws hit him. This time he wasted no time, he raised the arm again, and the bolts of blue energy struck the swamp beast straight along its long, scaly body. It screamed in agony as they burnt into its flesh. Galevo could smell the scent of burnt flesh, but the blast did little else than rile the beast up. In crazed fury, it slithered towards him, lifting its head with the dagger-like teeth ready to strike. Galevo jumped sideways as he fired the bolts, but this time the monster dodged them and struck him with its massive tail. Again he was sent flying, descending deep into the muddy waters and the mud below before he could regain control. He fought with thick roots, ripped them apart as he tried to get up, but it was too late.
The giant serpent’s mouth closed around him, lifting him from the depths and into the air. Even though the armour did resist the piercing teeth, Galevo felt the force of the crushing jaws. As the armour moved slightly, a rib cracked. Galevo reminded himself to check the injury later, as he struggled for the mental command he needed. He straightened his arm and pointed towards the beast’s head. It dropped him as the energy bolts struck it in the right eye, its body flailing wildly about. By sheer accident, the tail struck his head and the world went black with a violent thud.

As Galevo and his brother ran into the village, they were met with utter chaos and mayhem. The east part had been completely eradicated during the fireball’s impact. The rest of the village had been knocked down by the shockwave, sending dozens of people to their deaths under heavy timber and stone. Several buildings were on fire, the volatile slavery of their fireplaces ended as the wood and thatch had collapsed upon them. People were screaming everywhere.
“Tom!” Galevo shouted, “Where’s mommy and daddy? I’m scared!”
Tom gave no answer, simply staring at the carnage with wide-open eyes, unable to comprehend the consequences of the situation.
“Tom!” Galevo was crying now, tears falling from his cheeks to the heated, ashen ground. Tom closed his gaping mouth, and turned to his brother. As their gazes met, Tom took a firm grip of his younger brother’s hand.
“Don’t worry, Gal, we’ll find them, I promise,” he answered at length. His voice was trembling though, his conviction only skin-deep. Galevo could sense him teetering on the brink of panic, and he knew they would both have to be strong for each other.
Hand in hand they ran through the ruin that had once been their safe home, shouting and hollering for their parents. Familiar faces stormed by with their own shouts and equally panicked expressions. People they had known their entire lives were suddenly like strangers, alienated by the trauma that had struck them to the very soul, ripping through their home, their families and their own body in order to reach it.
“Boys!” A familiar voice boomed. The two boys turned around, hoping to find the massive, safe frame of their father.
“Uncle Jem!” Tom cried, “What’s happening? Where’s mommy and daddy?” he asked, echoing his younger brother.
“Don’t worry,” Uncle Jem answered, gasping for air, “I’m going to take care of you. I made a promise, I swear, I’ll get you to safety.” He was talking to himself as much as to them. Galevo couldn’t understand what he meant.
“Why can’t they be here?” he asked. Uncle Jem looked at him with a haggard stare.
“Help me find a horse, boys. Galevo; you have to be strong now. You have to be strong.”

The voice resounded in his mind, the simple, desperate voice of a farmer from a world he had not seen in decades, a voice he had forgotten the owner of, insistently whispering a phrase he had could not recall the original significance of. It was a simple voice, and it was a simply sentence, but the way it was said made his every limb and muscle ache to move, to be put to use.
Be strong. You have to be strong.
Galevo opened his eyes, spending a second in complete disorientation. The Augmentation took over, the training he had recieved surging his being like cold water. Almost without understanding what happened, he straightened out his balled fist, making a flat shape with his hand. The two sylinders at each side of the wrist began glowing again, sending out their blue light, visible even when submerged in the muddy water. The light began crawling along the outline of his hand, creating a blue edge that shimmered like the bolts. Galevo felt the vibrations of the monster’s movement in the water through his enhanced ears. He tasted the monster’s blood through his enhanced tongue. He did not need his sight now. He knew what to do.
He did not think, he did not need to. The training did its job; he turned round underwater, leapt from the depths, rising like a spirit of vengeance towards the giant eel-serpent. His blade-hand struck true. With a last effort he drove it through its throat, and nearly beheaded in one clean sweep. Dark red blue washed over him, and the beast was caught in death cramps, but this time he dodged them, and soon they wore off. Then, in an anticlimactic turn of events, it simply died.
Galevo began feeling the immense pain from his head and abdomal injuries. The Augmentation would do its part, he knew. The wounds would grow faster than those of any normal man. Still, the ribs might heal incorrectly. And the head was a delicate thing. He needed attention.
As he was about to turn and call for aid through the Mindweb, his feet collapsed, sending the obsidian amoured figure down on the inert remains of the monster. Galevo took deep, painful breaths. The pain was slightly unfamiliar. Dulled by the training he had undergone.
Pain is an animal. Keep it caged and under control. Respect it, but be its master, he recited mentally.
“Arpratan Seimu to all nearby brethren. Require extraction. Possible serious head injury. Difficulty moving,” he sent. “Transmitting position,” he added.
He looke around, staring at the swamp and picking up every branch, root and rock. Every sight, smell and sound he could possibly sense. Then he sent the impression across the Mindweb to anyone of his brethren who would get it.
He then allowed himself to lay silent on the corpse of his slain foe. He felt little pride or satisfaction.
“Forgive me creature..." he coughed up blood some blood and phlegm before swallowing it again.
"...but I had to be strong,” he said at last with a rasping voice.

Mythopeia Project: New Day (Part 1)

There was nothing in the whole world, nothing but mud. It stretched on for as long as the eye could see, it covered every tree trunk, every dislodged piece of flotsam, every broken twig and every surfacing rock. Galevo trudged through it all, his legs effortlessly pushing silt, rotting plants and the muddy waters that nearly reached up to his hip away. His breath was deep, slow and steady, preserving as much energy as possibly, while still on guard should the treacherous swamps and bogs choose not to be as lifeless as they seemed.
Galevo felt something slither along his left leg and stopped to take a better stance. Nothing happened. It was probably just a piece of local wildlife, swimming ignorantly past one of the most dangerous beings in the Multiverse. He saw the tiny raindrops descend from the brown-clouded skies, but he could not feel as they hit is face, covered in armoured plate as it was. His feet continued to trudge on, as effortlessly and steady as ever. He was armoured from top to toe, armoured in a blue-tinted, black steel, eerily marked by glowing, swirling patterns. He knew not their meaning, only that they lent the armour its supernatural strength and endurance. Lent him supernatural strength and endurance.
I am the armour, the armour is me, he recited mentally, remembering what he had been taught upon recieving the prized piece of arcana he now was not only wearing, but actually being a part of.
Despite being a second skin, despite granting him arcane powers only the gods could have once rivaled, despite all this, it had its drawbacks. As the rain fell on his face, he could not feel it through the metal mask, not through the emerald-like eye goggles. He vaguely remembered a state of being before wearing the armour, before being the armour.
I am the armour, the armour is me, he recited again, but this time it was not enough to keep his mind from wandering, wandering into areas even more treacherous than the ones he was traversing now. Wandering into the areas of his past. Before all this. Before the Trials, before the Augmentation, before The Many. Before... before he was who he was now.

“And that’s the Cicle of Yarud,” Tom said, pointing towards the stars. Young Galevo could barely make out four stars that might just look like a cicle. If you squinted your eyes a bit.
“And what’s that?” he asked his big brother, eagerly pointing at a fiery streak across the sky.
“Umm,” his brother responded while biting his underlip, trying to remember the name of the celestial body his younger brother had discovered.
“I’m not sure, it looks kinda like a snake of fire, doesn’t it?” he answered at last. Galevo nodded eagerly.
“Like a dragon,” he said, turning his head towards the bigger boy, smiling with a mouth with the occasional lacking tooth.
“Oh, you’ve been listening to old Omba again, have you?” his bigger brother asked disapprovingly.
“Just a little bit, I swear,” Galevo said, looking at the ground.
“Mother says Omba only tells fairytales. She says none of that ever happened,” Tom said lecturingly.
“I dunno, it was all a long time ago anyway. At least Omba says so. Before grandpa and grandmawere born. Before the village was built even!”
Tom nodded. That was a long time ago.
“Is it just me, or is the ‘dragon’ getting bigger?” Gavelo asked his big brother, they both looked to the sky.

“Arpratan Seimu, respond. I repeat, respond Arpratan Seimu,” the voice ringed inside Galevo’s very mind, ripping him from his daydreams, bringing him back to the dull brown swamps. He gathered his mind to send the required mental messages over the web of thoughts that connected him to the rest of his brothers on this world.
“Arpratan Seimu responding. What is the situation, Ligaste Seimu?”
The Mindweb crackled again; “Orlam-Nebet reports a settlement two thousand paces up north. We are to converge on it, you take the eastern flank. He’s transferring his visions shortly,” the message rang.
“Affirmative. Be adamant, honour the Many,” Gavelo sent to his brother-in-arms.
“Honour the Many,” came the response, and then the Mindweb went silent.
Galevo felt a tingling sensation in the back of his mind as the visions from Orlam-Nebet, the group leader they mostly referred to as Grek, poured into his consciousness.
They were were sights, sounds, smells and other sensations. For a second he could feel the beating of Grek’s heart, the breeze of his breat, the very sensation of being another person as if you had never been anyone else. It was awkward, Grek was a brother born from the Augmentation as himself. Similar in all ways, yet feeling his every fibre of being showed Gavelo that they were in fact different. Similar, but different. Shortly after, the scope of the visions reduced to what was important; the sights and sounds.
He saw a small hamlet of thatched huts. People in woollen clothes walking about tending their own business. He saw smiths, shepherds leaving for the fields, children running after dogs, playing with each other in the muddy streets, and mothers shouting at them not to get themselves dirty, all in vain of course.
It was a village that reminded Galevo of the distant place he had once called home. Distant, not only in space, but in time as well. It was a village that reminded him of his birthplace, and more importantly; it was a village like a thousand thousands of villages in the Multiverse. Orphaned places, where humanity lived on in ignorance.
They believed the death of the Ancestor Gods had broken the Multiverse, broken the Web of Worlds connecting them. They had slept through Long Night. Well, it was time for them to wake up.
It was time for Galevo to stir their sleepwalk, and bring the light of New Day.

Mythopoeia - Preparations.

Presenting the winner:

"Well done warrior. You have made yourself worthy to serve Us. You have gone through the Augmentation, you have met the dangers and faced the Trials. Now go forth, unto Our enemies. Be adamant in your quest, be ruthless in your execution. Serve Us well, bring Divine Light to the darkest corners of the Multiverse. Please Us, Our child, and your soul will be immortalized upon death. You are a soldier of the Many, and your destiny is to die. Never forget that... Child of Ours."

So what will I make out of this? Well, I am for one going to emphasize on the "and your destiny is to die" part. Sounds badass, right? Not only that, but it also a chance to explore the psyche of someone whose destiny is indeed to die.

Other this to shed some light on are the capitalized words, the Augmentation and the Trials. As well as getting to know who these mysterious "We" are, the so-called "Many".

So here's the first few thoughts:

I was thinking at length a few days ago exactly what setting this would require. Fantasy? Sci-fi? Alternate history? Something entirely else? In the end it was the word "Multiverse" that drove it home. The decision is quite simple; I won't place great emphasis on the setting. The Multiverse is a concept quite close to the universe, but it is somewhat different. This is something I'll make clear. There will be different worlds and travels between these, but these worlds won't necessary be planets.

This also lends me some freedom regarding what equipment and abilities will appear. Want swords and guns bashing each others? Well, why not!

Hopefully, I'll have some of it up in short time. Just for fun.

Mythopoeia - Results

It was a close race between option nr. 2 and nr. 4, with two leading for a long time only within the last couple of days being overrun by option nr. 4. 1 and 3 however, never received even a single vote. Interesting.

And so it comes to pass that Option 4 is the definite winner. I will get to defining the backstory and supplement what I can as soon as possible. In fact, I have quite a few ideas already, and hopefully they'll be fresh and inspiring. I can tell you so much that they involve parallell worlds, mystically powered armour, fanatic warriors and possibly a virtual reality. Who knows; I've been known to change my mind before.

Updates will appear shortly. Let's see where this takes us, people.

Mythopoeia - Mythmaker

I have always been fond of using my imagination - and a fair amount of intellectual theft - to make up imaginary worlds, something my friends all can give testimonies on. I remember early on in Elementary where I used to play with a few other boys that we were soldiers in space fighting aliens, or brave knights killing monsters and undead, or even superheroes with different items and backstories granting us our superpowers.

I especially remember one of "my" earliest creations - this was before I was of school age, mind you - where I and two older boys played we were superheroes. I developed a fictional backstory for these three as we all made up their abilities. I remember finding a piece of metal that looked like sword and inventing a story about a magic blade granting heroic powers, and a ring that gave powers to what essentially would become the swordsman's sidekick (me, since I was the youngest). The third was a spider-man like guy named "The Hook" who had powerful equipment that revolved around shooting hooks and slinging from rooftop to rooftop.
Ah, those were the days.

Now, I have always kept this interest moderately active, and now... in the words of a certain psychopathic serial killer; "I'd like to play a game."

I'm going to write three short texts, or quotes rather, and then you'll vote on which will I'll develop further. Nothing big, just for you entertainment. Voting will be done in the poll.

Here we go:

1.
"It is the year 2009, and the world's superheroes are busy fighting crime and stopping the evil masterminds in taking over the world. Norway is no exception; here the magnificent Baldr, the stoic Lion of Norway and the vengeful Hird does battle in order to preserve - or destroy - the nation. Who will win in the end? And what will be of the victor?"

2.
"There can be no peace between Klore and Daynelle. War is the natural state, as the gods intended. Be it on the fields of battle, at sea, in the skies of even the underworld itself; we will always fight one another.
As is only right and just."

3.
"Commander's Log. Entry #244.B89/q - We have succesfully left the system where The Breathing Faclon was lost. Already now do I see the tensions between the Seculra and Vinatri. Their ancients struggles are rising to the surface. The prophecies are hard to swallow, and more and more Urgites are closing down in stasis. I fear for the integrity of the crew, I fear for the future of the Undertaking. My own Mekanth have promised their loyalties to me if the worst should happen. Fools - can't they understand that as their commander I must remain above their petty conflicts? And yet - my hunch is telling me that the darkest hours are yet to come. Regardless, the Undertaking goes on."

4.
"Well done warrior. You have made yourself worthy to serve Us. You have gone through the Augmentation, you have met the dangers and faced the Trials. Now go forth, unto Our enemies. Be adamant in your quest, be ruthless in your execution. Serve Us well, bring Divine Light to the darkest corners of the Multiverse. Please Us, Our child, and your soul will be immortalized upon death. You are a soldier of the Many, and your destiny is to die. Never forget that... Child of Ours."

I hope this will spark your imagination. Choose wisely. :-)

Eg Hev Blogg Anbefaler Internettegneserier, Del 1

Jeg oppdaget fenomenet internettegneserier for noen år siden da jeg surfet rundt. Etter som årene har gått har dette utviklet seg til en form for lidenskap og tidrøyte, og også gitt meg en helt ny respekt for mediet tegneserier.

De aller fleste av oss tenker nok på tegneserier som noe enten barnslig og enkelt, eller i den andre enden av skalaen hvor det er så blodig og perverst (gjerne samitidig) at de aller fleste sier "eh, nei takk" og går.

Dette er ikke sånn det er, langt ifra. Hvis du beveger deg vekk fra det kommersielle hyperspeedmarkedet hvor alt handler om svære pupper på lettkledde jenter med rosa hår (manga) eller menn med så store muskler at enhver bodybuilder burde gå og grine (superhelttegneserier de siste ti årene) så kan du finne perler som oppfordrer til ettertanke, latter eller bare ren og skjær leserglede.

Men, tenker du, jeg gidder ikke betale for det. "Din dritt," kunne jeg sagt, "gå og la hjernen din råtne mens du spiller *grøss* Sims," men det gjøre jeg ikke. For i denne "spalten" kommer jeg til å presentere GRATIS tegneserier av HØY kvalitet!

Alt jeg ønsker tilbake er å få vite om du har lest noen du liker, eller om du leste noen du ikke likte.

Rice Boy - av Evan Dahm


Rice Boy skrevet av den særdeles undrende og talentfulle spanjolen (bosatt i North Carolina) Evan Dahm er noe av det aller, aller beste jeg noensinne har lest, og da inkluderer jeg bøker og - pokker heller - filmer også.
Historien er vanskelig å plassere i noen sjanger, men den har en surrealistisk form som slår meg som svært lik Tove Jansons Mummitegninger. Her kan alt skje, og alle slags merkelige skapninger dukker opp. Men den er så utrolig mye mer; det ligger en sammenhengende historie over hele tegneserien som drives nådeløst fremover med klare farger og enkle streker som lar deg sittende igjen undrende, samtidig som du suger til deg hver eneste detalj av de utrolige omgivelsene.

Det er en ferdig, helt fortalt tegneserie, og jeg er utrolig glad for at jeg har lest den; aldri vil jeg være den samme etter å ha lest om eventyrene til Rice Boy, The One Electronic (T.O.E) eller noen av de andre karakterene i denne verdenen.


Det er riktig, T.O.E, det er så visst ikke over ennå. BOOYAH!

Flere Youtubekomikere: Derrick Comedy!

Her er en ny gruppe fra min prisbelønte* serie om youtubekomikere! Derrick Comedy er en gruppe på fem personer fra Ny York by som lager noen helt geniale sketsjer.

(*prisbelønt av meg som "Nettets Fordømt Beste Artikler Noensinne, Fy Feite!")

WQXR: The Cool Breeze:


Daughters:


Men det stopper ikke der. Gutta (og jenta, det er en jente som er med) har også produsert sin første spillefilm, som visstnok har fått ekstremt gode kritikker. Den ble først vist i januar i år, og hvis jeg noen gang finner den, så skal jeg leie/kjøpe den.

Mystery Team:

Machinima!

Machinimadefinisjon (wiktionary.org):

1. (video games, filmology) The rendering of computer-generated imagery using low-end (real time) 3D engines such as those found in video games, as opposed to the high-end, complex 3D engines used by professionals.
2. (video game genre, filmology) The genre of films created by such techniques.

Machinima er med andre ord filmatiseringer laget i et datasspill e.l.. Dette er veldig interessante greier, og jeg skal nå introdusere den gjengse n00b for fenomenet.

Rooster Teeth
Rooster Teeth er mest kjent for serien Red versus Blue, som tar plass i Halo-universet, om enn en veldig useriøs og sinnsyk versjon. Serien omhandler stort sett to dysfunksjonelle grupper med hver sin farge på romdrakten, som forsøker iherdig å banke dritten ut av hverandre. Needless to say; hilarity ensues.

Disse gutta er så gode at de har fått lov av Bungie (produsenten av Halo) til å distribuere og selge DVDer med materialet sitt.

Her finner du hjemmesiden deres, med mange andre serier de har laget også.

Første episode:


Smooth Few Films
Min personlige favoritt, disse gutta lager et heidundrandes "reality"-show som heter The Leet World, om en gjeng terrorister og kontraterrorister som må leve sammen i et hus og klare strabaser som å vaske opp, prate sammen, og... av og til, banke gørra ut av hverandre med dødelig utfall. Hei hvor det går. Legg spesielt merke til det ultrakule stemmeskuespillet. Disse gutta har det gøy med det de gjør, og det synes... eh, høres.

Hjemmesiden deres ligger her.

Dette er traileren for The Leet World


The Duo Group
Jeg kan ikke så mye om disse gutta, annet enn at de har laga en av de beste machinimaene jeg noen gang har sett, og sannsyligvis kommer til å se. Den er laget av ren badass og vinn.



Sangen heter "Last Farewell Ride", er skrevet av en fyr som heter Beck, og gir meg frysninger ned på ryggen. Fy feite. Jeg tror jeg har en oversettelse jeg lagde en gang liggende her.

Uansett, deres nettside finner dere her.

Håper dere alle kan finne et nytt medium og en ny kunstform å få endeløse timer med *gratis* underholdning fra. Cheers!

Lonely Island - Youtubekomikere!

Det finnes noen skikkelige perler inne på tuba. For det meste er det hjemmelagde musikkvideoer til Linkin Park og My Chemical Romance, videoblogger av folk som ikke har stort mer å prate om enn smaken på maten de fikk i dag, eller sinnsyke konspirasjonsteorier som uten unntak innebærer overtakelsen av verden av den skumle New World Order, eller masse anna dritt.
Men av og til dukker det opp noen skikkelige folk, som er genuint kreative og flinke. Her presenterer jeg EN av disse gruppene; Lonely Island! :-D

Her følger et TJUE MINUTTER langt sketsjshow!


Flere filmer finner du på deres brukerside