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-Burn To Do List

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A song I wrote for nobody

When I wrote this song, I had Erik Saties Gymnopedie playing in my left ear on repeat the entire time. That song is absolutely gorgeous

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The legend of the Easter Bunny



The freshness of the spring dew glistened on the ground

as the sun rose high into the sky. A new day had come around.

Two little boys called Sam and Ben woke up early and bright

So excited about the Easter bunny who left the presents last night.

The legend of the Easter Bunny was known far and wide

This may be the first time, however, that you hear this side.


On Easter Sunday every year all the children would wake

and in their gardens they would find chocolate eggs and chocolate cakes

It wouldn't take long for the little children to have chocolate all over their faces

from scoffing the lot so greedily, they would even have races.

Who could eat the egg the fastest or could put the most in their gob

and when they had eaten the lot the spoilt children would start to sob


Who put them there? I hear you ask, the Easter bunny of course

he'd creep in and leave them, I hear from a reliable source.

Now mothers would prepare themselves with buckets at the ready

and by night fall the flow of sick from greedy kids was fast and steady

The point of the Easter bunnys generosity was not as nice as it seemed

His purpose was to be forgiven and so he would be redeemed.


The bunny was very greedy and selfish when he was younger

And as a result of this greed his family suffered with hunger.

Sick of his self serving ways his family severed their ties

They had enough of his carelessness and enough of all his lies

The only way to be forgiven was too do his best and ensure

that the gluttonous behaviour he had, was not repeated any more.


Knowing that they wouldn't listen and had to realise themselves

that overindulgence was not a good feeling and made them very unwell.

He supplied the chocolate in the form of eggs, bunnies and cake

and encouraged them to eat it all from the moment they would awake

Only when a child refused to eat it again would the Easter bunny win

and he could join his family free from any sins.


So back to the little boys unaware of their impending test

Wolfing down their breakfast and leaving the table in a mess

They hurry on their shoes and reluctantly put on their jackets

holding their buckets firmly they go outside and make a racket

screaming with excitement eveytime an egg is found

the spring birds flock away on the utterance of any sound.


The Easter bunny left ten eggs each and soon the boys had the lot

they went inside and counted out the ones they had got

the foil wrappers around the eggs identified them as milk, dark or white

containing nuts, jellies, fruit or toys, to keep them occupied into the night.

Ben took off a golden wrapper and punched the egg into chunks

he picked up the biggest shards and into his milk he dunks.

Sam decides to follow suit and smashes his first egg to bits

and tries to put as much of the egg in his mouth that it will permit.

Soon the boys have devoured their first, their second, third and fourth

by fifth and the sixth they hold their stomachs and rock back and forth

Their mother tries to stop them by hiding them away

but it doesn't stop them finding them, they have no intention to play


They ate and ate and stuffed their faces hiding under the table.

The seventh was a battle, they ate as much as they were able

Sam knew he would puke if he ate the eighth one

Ben finished his eighth egg but knew he was done

They automatically started to peel the wrapper of number nine

the fresh smell of the chocolate was where they drew the line


The syrupy burp crept up on them and left a bad taste in their mouth

their tummies let out a gripy rumble and they dropped their head south

Any movement triggered nausea and an unwillingness to move

but competition was too strong neither was wanting to loose

They reluctantly persevere each determined not to fail

but one bite into nine and Sam had to bail.


His mum was there at the ready with a bucket already in hand

cursing the bloody rabbit thinking of how to get him banned

Sam is retching up a treat and each time the urge is worse

vomiting up his chocolate lunch hoping it will soon disperse

The smell of vomit fills the air and poor Ben didn't stand a chance

he stands there and lets it out, mesmerised in a trance


The mum swears to hunt that rabbit for what he has done

she will serve him up for dinner and then she will have won

The boys continued with their stomach pyrotechnics well into the night

they sat on their beds clutching the tummies not feeling very right

by early evening they had enough and want to go to bed

they couldn't face a cup of water or even a slice of bread


Their mother came in to wish them sweet dreams and then tucked them in

she also bought in their final eggs and had a wicked grin

“would you boys want egg number ten?” leaving it on their beds

“no no no” came the replies and they vigorously shook their heads.

“Well never eat chocolate again” Sam said hiding in his pasty face

“take it away please mum, can you get out of this place”


“What, never again?” she asked fingers crossed behind her back

“yes yes, I never want chocolate again” Ben called out. And that was that.

The Easter bunny heard this and he beamed from ear to ear

is it true at last? Has a child conceded? He can barely hold back his cheer

The next morning comes around and the boys slowly get out of bed

Egg number ten just sitting there..............................


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went all out with the weird on this one 

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I'm really interested in minimalist posters, this is one I made a while ago and I only just found this collab.

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high speed footage with some playing and distortion (to speed and sound, other versions will play more with comping and combining with some other shots and footage that we took, it will be super cool). other versions and takes coming. This stuff we shot together like this is meant to be remixable assets for season 2, and I will try more experiments and comps and upload more (and also zips with raws and others, soon. We have thrown buttons, dropped buttons, spinning buttons, buttons that grow on trees (except not at all that last one). More coming soon.


raws and first passes of most of this stuff is 720 HD so that I could get 120fps shooting speed.

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Eyho, another minimalist poster. This is another horror one I guess, maybe slightly moreso than the Chasing the Cicada one. I dunno. Please do leave feedback and kepp recording!

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1920x1080/jpeg/taken via iphone with a clip on Fish Eye Lens


The talented Cerebis was kind enough to give me some tips today on how to use this lens. So at dusk I went out and took a few random shots to practice.

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okay, this movie barcode took a while together, and is probably the only full episode one. still going to do sequences from the number one, too.

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drew this while in Google Hangout

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All poets are traitors.

All sinners are voyeurs.

All lovers are gamblers.


There’s no pen mightier

There’s no third eye wiser

There’s no even keel


And I may as well just wage the war

And I may as well just fulfill the prophecy

And I may as well just take the chance


That will bring me to my knees.

That will seal my proper fate.

That will topple this house of cards.


It will save time.

It will save my soul.

It will save my life.


It’s a kind of suicide when you refuse to die the rightful death.

It’s a kind of mercy when you find the dignity to acquiesce.

It’s a kind of miracle when you accept the odds may be stacked.


But I’ll kill my heart before I’ll watch yours break again

But I’ll carve a reminder before I’ll sink beneath this stone

But I’ll meet the blind before I’ll throw in this hand


And then charge a heaving beast across a page to annihilate that truth.

And then pull a blanket of moss across it to hide my naked words.

And then beat a spiny path to a bluffer’s paradise.


For all the ink on this battlefield

For all the shimmer in this crystal ball

For all the bravado at this table


I still feel the rushing of the blood.

I still feel the beating of a heart.

I still feel the stumbling of a truth.


Your blood.

Your heart.

Our truth.


In my mouth.

Against my chest.

Suspended aloft.


All poets are traitors.

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