01
Title: Crash
Author: J.G. Ballard



Blurb:

In this Hallucinatory novel, the car provides the hellish tableau in which Vaughn, a 'TV scientist' turned 'nightmare angel of the highways', experiments with erotic atrocities among crash victims, each more sinister than the last; ultimately he craves a union of blood, semen and engine coolant with Elizabeth Taylor.

Design Principles:

Threat Detection

This was my first real attempt at creating a composite image in photoshop. I was compelled to do so after reading Collapsing Bulkheads, an essay by Rick Poyner from his book Designing Pornotopia. Over the years Poyner has collected different editions of Crash, partly to see wether any publisher would ever produce a visual interpretation that achieved the concentrated power of the books brutal erotic imagery.

'This is rich and provocative source material for designers and illustrators. How to visualize a piece of writing which is prepared to be, in Ballard's words, "openly pornographic" as a literary stratagem? On the whole, though, image makers have been defeated by Crash.'

I wanted to make something semantically charged. Inspiration came in the form of a train journey home one day. I noticed that a building outside Leeds train station had a slanted roof that looked like two facing Interflora logos, or so it seemed to me at the time. I realised later they were in fact, more reminiscent of car hood ornaments.

I chose two very well known models of luxury car for this illustration: Jaguar and Rolls Royce. Through research I discovered that the Rolls Royce mascot is better known as the Spirit of Ecstasy. Designed by Charles Sykes, it is in the form of a woman leaning forwards with her arms outstretched behind and above her. Billowing cloth running from her arms to her back resemble wings. She looks angelic in stainless steel, like some highly buffed Hollywood award. She stands 3 inches tall and, for safety, she is mounted on a spring-loaded mechanism designed to retract instantly into the radiator shell if struck from any direction.

I can only think of three kinds of ecstasy; Sexual, religious and chemical. Crash is obviously concerned with sexual ecstasy and Ballard himself described it as 'psychopathic hymn', and two out of three ain't bad.

If the Spirit of Ecstasy represents The character of Vaughan; a 'nightmare angel of the highways' the Jaguar represents bestial sexual, predatory aggression. It lunges forward, aiming straight for the jugular. It is also patently phallic in juxtaposition to the idealised femininity of Eleanor Velasco Thornton's simulacrum. Both are objects of fetishism as material objects and status symbols.

'Pinned to the walls and lying on benches among the enamel panels were hundreds of photographs... Most of them were crude frontal pictures of motor-cars and heavy vehicles involved in highway collisions... at first glance no recognizable human figures appeared in these photographs, but on the wall above the metal sink beside the window there were the enlarged prints of six middle aged women...'

pg 76

The extract above provided the theme for the composition; a photomontage 'where
any demand, any possibility, whether for life-styles, travel, sexual roles and identities, can be satisfied instantly.' A hallucinogenic blurring of documentary photography - of fact - with fiction.

The two photos are angled in such a way as to create a chicane which zig-zags through the composition. In the center a flare of light serves as both a vanishing point on the false horizon and light bouncing off a car which is speeding toward the viewer. In the final printed version on silver acetate (to emulate a stainless steel chassis), light literally bounces off this point and can dazzle the reader creating a slight frisson . The outer concentric circles of the solar flare become an ovum which is penetrated by a vector illustration of an electrified sperm, in the background a female pubis is discernible, pinned to the wall with a tack. A plane descends from above, on a road in the clouds. A wiper-blade etches out a curve of condensation on steamy windows and below shattered glass is covered in oil/ engine coolant/ blood. The use of vivid rainbow colours accentuate the flare and is reminiscent of petrol or oil on wet tarmac. A crumple zone of paper merges with the clouds.

On the spine, a free transformation of a single column of pixels is stretched out to create a speed blur and finally a tummy band is placed around the the cover. This band acts as a police incident cordon - the kind that have passing motorists rubber-necking to catch a glimpse of a car accident. It covers the more graphic part of the image which could be deemed inappropriate for in-store display. It also increases the visibility and legibility of the number plate inspired title which collides with the covers edges.

I'm happy to say that the ink applied to the final print is easily scuffed and scratched, grubby finger marks render the shine lack lustre; already the cover has begun its journey toward the scrap heap.

The Princess and the Pee

Words and illustrations by Jabe

'This is a man's man's man's world' said James Brown back in the summer of 1966. But lest we forget that the Godfather of Soul said a lot of things; 'Jump back and kiss yourself, Papa’s got a brand new bag' and 'Take me to the bridge!' are just a few of his teachings I try to live my life by everyday. But when a convicted wife beater tells you that it’s a man’s world, you can’t ever take his word as gospel.

To quote another musical visionary ‘times they are a changing’. A case in point, who remembers the 90’s man? Caring and considerate he was a bloke who knew how to cook a nice meal for you and the importance of cleaning it up afterwards. He’d open a door for you but wouldn’t dream of ogling your derrière as you chassed by. So in touch with his feminine side was he that he’d pick you up a seven, take you to see Titanic, cry at the end and then champion Kate Winslet’s fuller figure on the way home. He was a Gentleman, he was a connoisseur, he was Sam Baldwin in Sleepless in Seattle but like him, the 90’s man was a fictional character thought up by a man to dupe women into a false sense of security. Deep down we’re all just plain old Tom Hanks.

I’ll let you in on another little Hollywood secret; when Sally faked an orgasm in that crowded café, Harry wasn’t squirming awkwardly in his seat because of his prudish male sensibilities; under that table he had a stonking erection! And you won’t see that in the DVD extra’s.

'You want the truth? You can’t handle the truth!' The sweetest guy you could ever hope to meet has already had ample time to mentally screw you three different ways before he’s even introduced himself, and hello! He just did. All guys do this; some of us are just better actors.

So whatever happened to the 90’s man? You didn’t clock him for the sugar coated charlatan he was; you just ate him for breakfast.

I’ll go out on a limb and make a sweeping generalisation here. You’re average woman today is so savvy, so confident and so sexually aggressive that us blokes have a tough time living up to her high expectations. Be honest, if the Prince charming you dreamt about as a child pulled up outside your flat in a carriage driven by four white chargers you’d raise an eyebrow at the matching white suit he was wearing. The average woman of today knows exactly what she wants and she wants it all and I mean EVERYTHING.

Now that’s no bad thing, let’s cut to the chase as it were, more power to you and all that but let’s not get too carried away with ourselves. We wouldn’t want to tip the scales too far in the opposite direction now would we? Would we? Just because you are the new Roman Empire doesn’t give you the right to go taking liberties like, invading foreign territories for instance.

They say no man is an island but if it’s a war you’re after you need only lay anchor on the porcelain shores of the Gent’s toilets and I’ll unleash hell. The next time I’m out in a nightclub and I pay a visit to the John’s please, please, pretty please stumble in behind me like a pack of pissed hyenas and make a beeline for the urinals. Come over and have a surreptitious glance at my genitals. In fact, better yet brazenly stare straight at them; no need to be shy. Perhaps you feel like making some mildly sexist remark about the length of my shaft, be my guest. Might I also suggest that my foreskin could be an interesting topic of conversation for you and your friends to discuss later over a coffee? Let’s face it; if I hadn’t wanted privacy I would have just urinated on your stilettos at the bar before offering to buy you a drink.

You Princess, are not the exception to the rule. You my dear, have to cue to go potty like all the other girls and I don’t care how desperate you are. You should have thought about that before you quaffed all those Bacarardi breezers. You know I really hate to be the one to break this to you but this isn’t nearly as hilarious as you think it is. Although the other guys aren’t making a big deal of it I can assure you that there isn’t a man in the Gent’s who doesn’t think you’re a t**t right now. In fact you’re probably just about drunk and stupid enough to sleep with one of them and you’ve just let them know it.

Now know this; for century’s women like the suffragettes struggled and even laid down their lives for equality and women’s rights. When I see a generation of younger woman abusing those hard won freedoms and corrupting those principles by engaging in activities which they themselves wouldn’t tolerate from men it makes me kind of upset. Ladies who habitually use men’s toilets should be as ashamed of themselves as the men they objectify.

Critical Diary Report 2 - Pi

“9.13. Personal note:

When I was a little kid, my mother told me not to stare into the sun. So once when I was six I did.”

-Max Cohen in the film Pi

Darren Aronofsky’s award-winning directorial debut Pi, is a science-fiction thriller about the haunting journey into the genius mind of a renegade visionary Maxamillion Cohen (Sean Gullette).

I was first introduced to Aronofsky's work when a friend lent me Requiem for a Dream (2001). Based on the novel by Hubert Selby Jr, the film sacrifices dialogue in favour of beautiful and harrowing visual imagery. The unique style of cinematography captured my imagination and I began looking for other examples of Aronofsky's work.

Watching Pi for the first time was an arduous yet ultimately rewarding experience. Shot in black and white, the monochrome images are grainy and underexposed. The script is dense with mathematical dialogue that is cipher like in its complexity and the underlying themes are nothing less than biblical. Not to mention the sequences in which Max's 'headaches' are shown in increasingly graphic detail to the point of self mutilation.

I have no intention of reviewing Pi for the purposes of this critical diary report. I invite open minded individuals to watch the film to inform their own opinions and I would warn mainstream cinema goers to proceed with caution. That being said I would like to explore in more detail some of the fascinating tributaries allured to in the film.

After watching Pi, for days I found myself contemplating the nature and possible implications of the following ideas. It’s just possible that they have altered my perception of the world we live in forever.

“12.45. Restate my assumptions.

1: Mathematics is the language of nature.
2: Everything around us can be represented and understood through numbers.
3: If you graph the numbers of any system, patterns emerge. Therefore, there are patterns everywhere in nature.”

- Max Cohen








The Fibonacci sequence

Max tells us that Fibonacci (or Leonardo of Pisa) was an Italian mathematician in the 13th century. In fact Fibonacci has been called the greatest European mathematician of the Middle Ages because he made a discovery which has excited natural biologists and mathematicians for hundreds of years.

In mathematics the sequence in which each number is the sum of the two preceding numbers is widely known as the Fibonacci series:

1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89, 144, 233, 377, 610, 987, 1597, 2584, 4181, ...

Many plants show the Fibonacci numbers in the arrangement of the leaves around the stem. Some pine cones and fir cones also show the numbers, as do daisies and sunflowers. Many other plants, such as succulents, also show the numbers. Some coniferous trees show these numbers in the bumps on their trunks. And palm trees show the numbers in the rings on their trunks.

Fibonacci number patterns occur so frequently in nature (flowers, shells, plants, leaves, to name a few) that this phenomenon appears to be one of the principal "laws of nature".

In fact the Fibonacci sequence appears everywhere in Nature, from the leaf arrangement in plants, to the pattern of the florets of a flower, the bracts of a pinecone, or the scales of a pineapple. The Fibonacci numbers are therefore applicable to the growth of every living thing, including a single cell, a grain of wheat, a hive of bees, and even all of mankind.

Spirals and the Golden Section

"My new Hypothesis: If we're built from Spirals while living in a giant Spiral, then is it possible that everything we put our hands to is infused with the Spiral?"

- Max Cohen

If you draw two small squares together, then draw another square using the combined lengths of the two squares as one side and carry on repeating this process you create a set of Fibonacci rectangles. This is a set of rectangles whose sides are two successive Fibonacci numbers in length, composed of squares with sides that are Fibonacci numbers, or in other words, the ratio of the sides of these rectangles equals that of the golden section.

A Fibonacci spiral can be created by drawing quarter circles through each square that together form a spiral. When squared, the spiral derived via the golden rectangle leaves a smaller rectangle behind, which has the same golden ratio as the previous rectangle. The squaring can continue indefinitely with the same result. No other rectangle has this trait.

The Golden Spiral is a mystical shape that is an absolute in both abstract mathematics and chaotic nature. It was first discovered by Pythagoras, a failed Greek messiah and mathematical cult leader in the 5th century B.C.The Pythagoreans loved the golden spiral shape for they found it everywhere in nature: the Nautilus Shell, Ram's horns, milk in coffee, the face of a Sunflower, our fingerprints, our DNA, and the shape of the Milky Way.

To this day the golden section is thought to be representative of infallible proportionate beauty. In the field of graphic arts, the golden section is the basis for ISO (International Organisation for Standardisation) paper sizes and its principles can be used as a means of achieving balanced designs.

Dr. Stephen Marquardt, a former plastic surgeon, has used the golden section to make a mask that he claims is the most beautiful shape a human face can have.

The Mask of a perfect human face

Chaos Theory



" That is the truth of our world, Max. It can't be easily summed up with math..."

- Sol in Pi

Max is looking for a way to understand our world. He applies the principles of Chaos Theory to the Stock Market (a non-linear, dynamic, chaotic system) in order to determine the pattern behind apparent random nature of market prices.Chaos Theory can be generally defined as the study of forever-changing complex systems. Discovered by a meteorologist in 1960, chaos theory contends that complex and unpredictable results will occur in systems that are sensitive to small changes in their initial conditions. The most common example of this, known as the "Butterfly Effect," states that the flapping of a butterfly's wings in China could cause tiny atmospheric changes which over a period of time could effect weather patterns in New York.Although chaotic systems appear to be random, they are not. Beneath the random behaviour patterns emerge, suggesting, if not always revealing, order.

Plato's Cave

Plato (427–c.347 BC) likens people untutored in the Theory of Forms to prisoners chained in a cave, unable to turn their heads. All they can see is the wall of the cave. Behind them burns a fire. Between the fire and the prisoners there is a parapet, along which puppeteers can walk. The puppeteers, who are behind the prisoners, hold up puppets that cast shadows on the wall of the cave. The prisoners are unable to see these puppets, the real objects that pass behind them. What the prisoners see and hear are shadows and echoes cast by objects that they do not see.

From this we can infer that human beings are incapable of comprehending absolute truth. Our own preconceptions and the limited capacity of our own cognitive powers and senses distort meaning in everything; all that is left is conjecture and partial truth.

Were the prisoner's in Plato's cave able to turn and see the truth behind them they would know God, as God is infallible and absolute.Max's own search to find meaning in the universe can therefore be read as an attempt to find God. Max's severe headaches could therefore be attributated to his attempts to atain God like knowledge. His mentor and friend Sol warns him of the dangers of reaching for these heights by recounting the greek myth of Ikarus to his former student.

Kabala

Kabala is an ancient aspect of Jewish mysticism dating back to the time of Moses. Consisting largely of speculations on the nature of divinity, creation and the soul, Kabala is said to have originated from the oral law which Moses received from God. The principle root of Kabalistic tradition is a belief in the divinity of the Torah (the first five books of the bible), and that by studying it one can unlock the secrets of creation.

"The Torah is just a long string of numbers. Some say that it's a code sent to us from God."

- Lenny Meyer, in Pi

During the course of the film Max is approached by Lenny Meyer a Hasidic scholar and evangelist who educates Max about the practices of Gammantria; the use of mathematics to unlock the secrets of the Torah.

Ancient Hebrews used the alphabet as their numerical as well as there lettering system, therefore, each letter was assigned a numerical value. For example the Hebrew "A," aleph, is equal to one, while "B," bet, is equal to two and so on. Taking this into consideration, we can then convert the entire Torah into a large string of numbers. When these numbers are analysed, patterns emerge, not unlike the patterns revealed in the hotly contested and now widely discredited book, The Bible Code By Michael Drosnin.

V for Vendetta

Good evening, London. March the 17th 2006 sees the UK release of Alan Moore's V for Vendetta. A frightening and powerful story of the loss of freedom and identity in a totalitarian world.

I've long been a fan of Moore and a worn copy of V has been sat on my shelf for years now, so I'm pretty excited to see what the Wachowskis have come up with.

Check out the website for details:

http://vforvendetta.warnerbros.com/

For more info on the award-winning writer Alan Moore:

http://www.alanmoorefansite.com/bio/

England Prevails.

Critical Diary Report 1 The Big Chill festival - a kind of religious experience

It’s the 11th of August, it’s 2005 and it’s my niece’s christening. I’m sat uncomfortably on the cold, hard wood of a pew in a gloomy church listening to a priest indoctrinate the latest addition of my ever-growing family tree. It’s not just the bench realigning the contours of my vertebrae that’s got me feeling uncomfortable though. And it’s not just because I spend a lot of my time feeling awkward and uncomfortable either (although I do). It’s probably the fact that I know an atheist has no business being in a church. But maybe, just maybe it’s because somewhere, some 200 hundred miles away, some lucky people (5000ish) are descending on the beautiful Eastnor Castle Deer Park for The Big Chill’s annual festival and I wish I was there instead.

But then again, maybe I was there. Maybe this was some cruel and convoluted hoax designed to dupe you the unsuspecting reader into believing that you’re wasting your time reading the worst festival review in the history of the world. Yes dear reader, I confess I have sinned for I did spend a long weekend in the Malvern Hills instead of attending my niece’s christening (Sorry Sophie). And I did make up that first paragraph but rest assured true believers; this WILL be the worst festival review in the history of the world and there IS a special place reserved in hell for people just like me.

But for those of you who are not like me, those of you who haven’t been to a Big Chill festival I should start out by saying that the Big Chill is unique among festivals. It’s the anti-festival. A festival for people who don’t like festivals. I think it was the Western Daily Press that put it best, and I quote ‘It’s all about de-stressing, kicking back and soaking up a smorgasbord of music from experimental electronica to funk, reggae and acoustic troubadours - as well as sipping rum cocktails, worshipping the sun, having therapeutic massages and fresh fruit skewered on kebab sticks for your breakfast’. All this is true, but then if you are anything like me (God help you) It’s also about smoking too much African style reefer and passing out on the floor of the Media Mix tent watching a live rescoring of Fritz Laing’s classic Metropolis at four in the morning.

My point is this; there aren’t many festivals these days that grant you the freedom to act like an individual, believe me I know. I was there at V98 when James Brown had his power cut after refusing to leave the stage. I was there at the Carling festival when the mighty Maiden returned after a 23 year long absence and I was there when the waiting times were upwards of six hours on the Glastonbury ticket hotline (subsequently I wasn’t there). But generally I was there, along with every other Tom, Dick and Harry. All crammed in together, herded between the corporately sponsored enclosures and set adrift in a sea of disgruntled people pissing in plastic cups.

Yes Ladies and Gentlemen I was a lost soul but then salvation came to me in the form of a book. Well, a page. OK, a web page...

www.bigchill.net

...and that was when I found my true vocation as a Big Chiller.

For me the Big Chill is about dropping out of society for a weekend and mingling with some of the nicest and most colourful individuals you could ever hope to meet; only ordinarily you wouldn’t get the chance. Maybe that’s why the Big Chill has always evoked such a strong sense of community amongst its faithful, whether it be online via the ever popular message boards or out in the middle of a field with the ever popular message boards. There’s always ample room to breathe, talk, and think. And if you’re not a thinker or a talker or a breather (R.I.P) then you can always go and shake yer ass.

Which brings me neatly onto the asses, I mean music. Now I don’t profess to have seen every act at Eastnor in 2005, or even half of them but I never saw the same act twice, if you catch my drift. If you didn’t let me put it this way; DJ Patife showed me how the Brazilian’s do drum and bass, The Bays showed me that live improvisation can sound as polished as any studio album and Fat Freddy’s Drop showed me that bass lines always sound better coming from a big fat guy on a synth. Fact.

There really is something here to tickle everyone’s particular fancy. For some it’s the Art trail that inspires and entertains. For others it’s the Body and Spirit enclosure which soothes and relaxes and for you it’s the Finlandia Cocktail Bar that gets you good and drunk am I right?

I might as well face facts The Big Chill is as close to Heaven as I’m ever likely to get and Hell, at least I can pay my way in.

Amen.