Christmas Break Haiku

This break has been nice
with lots of activities
and family time.

I have had coffee
with hazelnut flavoring.
It was wonderful.

I threw bouncy balls

into my used coffee cup.

It was challenging.

Rock Band owns my life
Now I think with every song...
"orange, blue, green, red"

I also learned that
"haiku" in its plural form
is simply: haiku.

But, what I like most

about being home on break:

there is no homework.

Samson

Life can sometimes get busy. Right now, my life is pretty much only busy.

Unfortunately, I do not have time for drawings – I rarely have time for doodles.

Although through my busyness, I do have something I can share. I got to speak to a group of people – and most of them listened to me!


I spoke about Samson!

If you would like to hear it, you can click on this link to download the podcast:
http://stream.mvnu.edu/podcast/force-download.php?file=11.18.09chpl.mp3

Or if that doesn’t work, you can click here:
http://www.mvnu.edu/podcast/podlist.asp

Just look for the podcast titled “2009-Nov-18-Chapel: MVNU Student John DeMuth”

Note: At one point in my message, I used a visual aid. Both were images on a separate poster board for the audience to see. The first image was an outline of a goat. The second was baby Simba from Lion King. (I couldn’t think of a cuter young lion than him)

--John D.

The Opposite is (~)Giraffe

Oh, about nine months ago...
I was learning about opposites in Philosophy class. I've heard a lot of my friends tell me that Philosophy class was not fun for them. Philosophy is something that can be very confusing, and possibly painful for your brain. I'm not sure if anything really gets answered completely with Philosophy. I'm okay with that.
If you have never taken a Philosophy course... then you might not have any idea what I am soon going to talk about -- but I will do my darnedest to explain it!

What is the opposite of on?
-- off
(Okay, that makes sense)

What is the opposite of hot?
-- cold
(Sure. I'll agree with that)

What is the opposite of a giraffe?
-- uh... what?
(The correct answer would be "not(~)giraffe")
Giraffes do not have opposites. So it's opposite would be (~)giraffe.

I think instead of explaining how Philosophy justifies itself in this reasoning, I will just show you a picture of the not-opposite of a giraffe.

I created him out of masking tape.

This is the first time I used a tape canvas as well. I would rip pieces of the masking tape off, and place them onto the duct-tape canvas. I've never done any kind of art like this before, and I was pleasantly surprised how it turned out.

Also, I added the color in a neat way -- I wanted to keep the "rugged" look, so I used marker on the roll of tape, and then I ripped it off and placed it. His name is Ampherny, and I moved the duct-tape canvas onto a canvas-canvas.

It was bunches of fun!

--John D.

Something I have never told anyone.

Something sparked my memory. I do not know exactly what initiated this thought, but I do know what factors were involved:

1. I was awake -- several hours past my normal bed time
2. A good friend proposed a question, “So, when you’re standing in your room, do you ever feel really concerned that someone might be trying to sniper you from outside?”
3. For reasons unknown, I was thinking about my childhood
4. Because of #1, I was in a delicate state of “awake” and “asleep”

I am still uncertain if anything on the list actually attributed to my final thought process. Nevertheless, a memory resurfaced. This is something I have never told a soul…
Until now.

As a child, I lived at my grandmother’s house for several years of my life. (This is not that secret.) I have a lot of wonderful memories of large breakfast meals of homemade “biscuits and gravy” that could feed a multitude – and on many occasions, breakfast hosted a multitude. I didn’t have any neighborhood friends as an adolescent because I was blessed with a large family on my mother’s side. My cousins were my friends, and we had many adventures at my Grandma’s property. I do not remember most of these adventures being safe.

Two of us would run across a massive pile of railroad ties, trying to reach the other side before the other runner. We would also run fast so we didn’t die. (The massive pieces of lumber would roll as we sprinted across the mound.)

Another activity included destroying glass bottles. The glass bottles were left over after the garbage was burned, and we would throw them at large stones that surrounded the burn pile. (Living out in the country meant that trash could be burned instead of hauled away) It was a treat when an uncle would drop off an old television set that no longer worked.

Also, my grandmother had chickens.

This untold story is not about any of those adventures or any of my numerous family members. Instead, this account is about me during a different time in my life:

I was a young boy with a wild imagination. I don’t remember much about my childhood. Sometimes I wonder if my memories are just a product of my (still active) imagination, conditioned through time to result in memory. I cannot tell you how often family would come to my Grandma’s house for breakfast, but those memories stand out above the rest. One fact that I don’t second guess is my initial statement:
I was a young boy with a wild imagination.

I vividly remember going outside on several occasions and howling. I would not scream, I would howl – much like a wolf howling at the moon.
I was not howling at the moon.
I was howling at wolves – somewhere.

I knew exactly where I was. I was standing on a sidewalk leading to the back door of my Grandma’s house – I believed they could hear me. I know, without a doubt that I sincerely believed that there were wolves somewhere listening to me. How do I know this? I remember being ready to open the back door and run into the house as fast as I could as soon as the wolves got to my location.

I believed that the wolves could understand me, and I could communicate to them. So I would howl at them in the dark and expect their arrival. That was my plan in its entirety in one simple step: Howl at wolves.

I do not believe I was challenging wolves; I just wanted them to visit me. Somewhere deep down, I knew wolves were “bad,” but I still wanted to visit them, and see them face-to-face. Most people would not mess with a pack of wolves without a zoo fence separating the two parties, but I was ready to meet some wolves that I was communicating with.

I remember doing this more than once.
I remember howling at wolves on several different instances over a period of time.

Did I really expect wolves to come?
I think so; why else would I do this more than once?
Did the wolves ever come?
Unfortunately/Fortunately they did not.
What were my parents thinking?
I have no idea if they ever knew I did this.
I imagine if I told them this now, they would believe it without much problem.
Why am I telling you this? Is there a point to this story?
Not really.

Sometimes, learning about yourself and rekindling old memories that were once forgotten is a wonderful sensation. I’m not sure how memories resurface after years, and I haven’t the slightest clue on how our mind works to recall memories, but this I do know:

I was a young boy with a wild imagination.

--John D.

A Magical Kingdom

Sitting in the back of a 1989 Lincoln Town Car can be really boring -- especially if you are the only one in the car. I have never been in this situation. I am grateful for that.

Sitting in the back of a 1989 Lincoln Town Car can be really interesting -- for the exact opposite reasons why sitting in the back of a 1989 Lincoln Town Car can be really boring. This I can talk about from personal experience.

Bennett, while driving his brown 1989 Lincoln Town Car, made the following statement:

"We need a good video idea for CoSMO."

[[CoSMO stands for "Community Service and Ministry Opportunities." CoSMO is a pretty neat group that includes sub-groups. CoSMO groups help children, the elderly, teenagers, the homeless, and other people in need in a bunch of different ways. Each and every group is filled with people who care about other people. Period.]]

“How about a story book? Like reading a children’s book to a kid.”

With some more dialogue, drawing time, filming, editing, and working out most of the quirks... this video premiered. The response from the viewers has been nothing but encouraging.



--John D.

Ridiculously Happy Flower

When this blog started approximately a year ago I decided that I would not limit myself to just words. -- My first blog post was just words.

I was off too a good start.

Soon to follow was a monsoon of drawings, pictures, writings, and eventually videos. Unfortunately, many of the recent blog posts are just limited to writings(with little picture aid) and videos.

I kind of miss the drawings, and I hope you have similar feelings.


That flower is so much happier than any living thing should be. Ever.

--John D.

Larry King

Today I met Larry King.

Oh but not "that" Larry King. I'm certain that I like this Larry King a whole lot more.

Larry King is a simple man with a kind face and very white hair. He is 53 years old and wears really big glasses. In 1993 his mother died and he got in a car accident which severely damaged his leg. (The death of his mother and the car accident were two unrelated events) There are now two bars around his calf and this causes bad blood circulation to his left foot. For the last five years Larry has been battling skin cancer. He cannot hear out of his left ear because he had reconstructive plastic surgery on it. In my honest opinion, his ear looks really good, although Mr. King is afraid to shave around that side of his face.

"I let it grow out for an extra day or so, because I'm afraid I'll get a cut it will get infected. Sometimes my friends say things like, 'Larry, you are looking pretty rough.' Then I just tell them, 'I'm just letting it grow out for another day or two.'" Because he is deaf in one ear, he "projects" his voice more than most people. On Larry's right arm, there is a dime sized sore. It was a gaping wound about a year ago that, "was about the size of the bottom of this here Pepsi bottle," he would say as he moved his hand around the base of the Pepsi bottle in a clockwise motion.

Larry is unemployed but does odd jobs when he can. All his life he has mowed lawns and has done yard work. Right now he lives in a homeless shelter in Lima, OH -- I believe he said it was the Lima Rescue Mission, but I'm not completely certain on that-- and has been there for a year, maybe two years total. Larry compared the size of his room to a jail cell. --I have no idea if he has ever been in jail-- Each month costs under $200 to live there, and he missed this past month's payment. This was the first month where Larry King was unable to pay, but he is getting a check soon from his friend that he works for in Bowling Green.

His friend is a retired lawyer that lives right on the lake and by a small airport. Larry works for him and does yard work, on his six acre yard, when he can. Larry's 72 year-old friend is wealthy and has his own small private airplane. --This is why Mr. Retired Lawyer lives by the airport-- Years ago Larry took a ride with his friend on his airplane.

"When you are riding in a small airplane, you are right behind the windshield. You can look out the window and see the ground. It's terrifying, and I'm afraid of heights. We would take off, and I would hang on for dear life." Larry continued to explain to me how the airplane would land on the small airport, and then literally park in the back yard of his friend's house.

Larry's daughter has just went through a divorce, and he does as much as he can to help his daughter financially. She has three children, so that makes Larry a grandfather. The youngest is about three, the oldest eight, and the last grandchild is five. I listened as Larry told me the ages of his three grandchildren several times. He wasn't completely certain on their ages, but he knew he was really close.

Larry also helps his daughter with yard work, why just today he mowed her lawn. Larry told me about the little push lawn mower he used. It was really good on gas. He also told me about how he mowed the lawn. Larry was pressed for time today, so he wasn't able to mow the lawn diagonally to make it look really nice.

Larry talked a lot about his past. He also talked about his plans for the future. On September 5th he has a court hearing he has been waiting on for five years. If everything goes well, he will be able to get Social Security money and provide and have, in his words, "a normal life." I really hope things work out for Larry in September.

Larry has been through a lot, a lot more than I have. Despite everything, he has a very positive outlook on life. I thought I was an optimistic person, but I learned a lot today from Larry.
Right now I'm going to steal some words from a friend of mine, but I think it's okay because she stole them from her dad.

"...some people have lives that are really hard and they have a good attitude and they look at the good things and their lives aren’t so bad."

Larry is definitely this kind of person. He would constantly say how blessed he was with what he had. We talked about taking what life throws at you, then we also talked about God. He wants his daughter and his girlfriend to go to church. Larry also talked about how his faith in God was really strong even though he has been through a lot.

I met Larry King today. I gave him a ride which lasted no more than 45 minutes.


I almost didn't give him a ride. I almost didn't have a strangely wonderful conversation with a stranger in my car. I almost didn't pick up Larry King the hitchhiker. I drove past him once, but turned around at the next exit. I have no idea why I turned around, but I'm really glad that I did.

--John D.

The Dark Star Orchestra

Every year my dad and I attend a concert in Springfield, OH. Springfield is about a two-hour drive from my home but I'm sure we would still make the journey if that time was doubled. Our secondary reason for attending this concert is the admission price: free. Our primary reason is the band: Dark Star Orchestra (DSO).

[[Special thanks to the Springfield News-Sun for this picture]]

Most people react with a confused look when I mention DSO, they simply don't have any idea who they are. I could describe them as a "Grateful Dead tribute band," but they are more than that. According to their website, "(DSO) recreates the original song for song performance set list for an entirely new generation of, as well as old school, Deadheads."

Deadheads were die-hard fans of the Grateful Dead, and many would follow the Grateful Dead on tour. From my experience, they are a very unique group of people who are very passionate about their music.

I was born, and raised (in the early years of my life), a Deadhead. My parents were devout followers of the Dead, and I attended my first concert when I was one-month old. My parents' first date was to a Grateful Dead concert... in Buffalo, NY. According to my dad, the conversation with my grandpa went something like this:
Grandpa: When will you two be back from the concert?
Dad: Oh, in a couple of days or so.

My dad has also told me that he would do his best to attend every concert The Dead would hold in the mid-west. When I was told these stories as a child -- because I only vaguely remember one concert from when I was a toddler -- I would often wonder why my parents would follow them and watch the same concert night after night. They followed them because they DIDN'T watch the same concert night after night. The Dead would never play the same show twice. From their immense library of songs, The Dead would customize each night so that it was completely unique.

Dark Star Orchestra re-creates the original experience of The Dead. For instance, the concert that I attended, just a few days ago, was originally the set list from an Dead show in 1973. My dad has said, "When I close my eyes he(John Kadlecik - lead vocals) sounds just like Jerry(Garcia)." I've heard other fans say, "It almost sounds wrong to say it, but they almost sound better than The Dead used to." Bob Weir, one of the original co-founders of The Dead, has played with DSO. Bob has stated, "A couple of times when I had my back to John onstage and he started to sing, I had this weird sense that it was Jerry." I cannot speak from personal experience, but I do enjoy the music and environment.

The environment is unique to say the least. I have been in a lot of places with passionate people, but these concerts have made me rethink my definition of passion. The majority of people who attend really get into the music -- I mean REALLY get into the music. People singing along with the band. More people dancing, and not giving a second thought about who sees them, or how silly they look. Complete strangers hugging each other when their favorite song is played. When the rare fight breaks out, everyone around them makes peace (I've only seen one fight). So much love that it makes you feel uncomfortable. I love it.

Unfortunately I feel that this experience is tainted. If what I just mentioned were the only elements of this environment, it would be wonderful. Some other factors involved would be alcohol, smoke, and drugs. I find it horribly difficult to talk to someone who is having a conversation about the book they are writing (about the Grateful Dead) as they are having trouble standing up, and accompanied by alcoholic breath. The following story is about one such encounter:

Rusty was his name. He was about average height, with short, thin hair on his head. His facial hair was untrimmed to say the least, and he wore a purple t-shirt holding an unfamiliar, yet unique design, on the face of the shirt. He would stumble around and greet everyone that he would come in contact with. My dad and I assumed he was drunk, and that was very possible.
"Rusty," stated the man in the purple shirt as he held his closed fist toward my dad.
"John," replied my father, trying to shake his hand -- which was still a closed fist.
"No," said Rusty, "you hit your fist against mine, and then it explodes!" Rusty gave a visual example to my father. My dad did the first part right, although his hand-explosion could have used some work. I was proud of him though, this was new to him.
Once their fists touched, Rusty put his whole body into the explosion of his hand. Leaning back and making the best silent blast that he could -- a clenched fist evolving into an open hand -- fingers creating the illusion of an explosion.
Rusty turned to me with a simple smile, "Rusty!"
"John," I stated. We exchanged our personal explosions.
"Oh," Rusty continued his greeting, "Junior!"
I despise the title "Junior." Technically I am not a junior because my dad and I have different middle names. I'm not sure if it was Rusty's charm or the fact that I wanted to be polite and spare us both time in my explanation, but I just replied with a smile. (I'm pretty sure it wasn't his charm)
At this point Rusty left. He returned several times to talk about the music, each trip returning with another beer in hand.
Closer to the end of the show, I looked at rusty and we made eye-contact.
This was a mistake.
Rusty stumbled over with a mission in mind. Stumbling over some chairs, he made his way to me with a completely serious expression displayed on his face, "Do you play any instruments?"
I did not expect that question. I expected the heavy scent of alcohol on his breath. "Uhm," I started to say, "I play a little bit of guitar." I said this because I do play a little bit of guitar.
After asking me about my favorite bands, Rusty took it upon himself to explain to me which position -- in a band -- was the easiest to get into. "Keyboard is the easiest way to get into a band. Then bass guitar, and then drums and guitar." He mumbled a bit and then grew very silent.
"Do you shave your sideburns?" He broke the silence.
"Well," I was also very confused by this question, "Yeah. I do."
"They look really nice. I don't shave mine," Rusty then turned his head to show me his sideburns. After showing me them, he grew very silent again and looked me, straight faced and completely serious.
"If you see anyone wearing this shirt wondering around," Rusty said while pointing at his shirt, "he has really good ecstasy."
Rusty then kissed me on the top of my head, and left.
I made an effort to see if anyone else was wearing a shirt like his, but I could not find anyone. My dad and I are fairly certain that he was more than drunk.
The last I saw Rusty, he was wondering around -- wearing his shirt.

I sent several of my friends a text of my experience. Most of them replied with laughter in the form of text. One replied simply saying "You're lying."

Why do I love this kind of environment? Why do their actions challenge my definition of "passion?" Why did Rusty kiss me on the top of my head? Some things will forever be a mystery, but I hope to answer the first two questions.

As I said before, this atmosphere is surrounded with love of your fellow man. I've seen more love, and especially acceptance, at these concerts that I have seen between Christians today. I've seen people lost in the worship of music at these shows. People so lost in the music, and so filled emotionally with the music and memories.

I know that this may be a very cliche thing to say, but I'm going to say it anyway: Why can't Christians have that kind of passion about God? Why do I see Christians so full of "hatred" toward their brothers and sisters, instead of accepting them with hugs and kisses on their head?

I'm sure there are some Christians like this out there. I hear a lot of wonderful and amazing things about the international Church and how much they are growing. I have no idea what that environment looks like, but I do know what Christian environment I am used to seeing. I do know what Christian environment I am used to being involved in.

I sure do wish I had an answer to my problem. I guess it begins with me, on an individual basis with my own convictions.

--John D.

Twelve-Hour Chicken Wing Trip

My cousin is in Ohio, visiting for as long as he can for the summer. He lives in Tennessee. I'm not sure why, but I feel sorry for him. Probably because he lives in Tennessee.

One day, we really wanted to eat some chicken wings. I knew of a place, but it was about four hours away. I think we went just because we could, and just to say we did. So I made a video of it.



Most of the editing was done after midnight, so I'm not sure how well it actually turned out. Although as I was viewing the final cut (also after midnight) it seemed pretty swell to me!
--John D.

Surname

I am not for certain why I don’t want my last name posted on my blog. I don’t think it is paranoia or anything like that. I’m not even sure if it is humility. The only thing I seem to know concerning this subject is this: It will be very hard to write this blog without presenting my last name. (If you don’t believe me, just read the next sentence.)
According to HowManyOfMe.com there are 34 people with my name, John DeMuth, in the U.S.A. (The website did not capitalize the M. I don’t like it when the M in my last name is not presented in upper case.) Lots of people share my first name, over five million people according to this website--

Before I continue much further, I must clarify the validity of HowManyOfMe. The website itself, when addressing it’s own accuracy, states, “[The program is] more accurate than a Magic 8-ball. Less accurate than distributing and collecting 300 million surveys” and “In our completely non-expert opinion, we say that the program gives a decent ballpark estimate, but it shouldn't be used for anything more than that.” So it is very possible - almost without-a-doubt - incorrect. I’m perfectly fine with that.

-- Now, what about my last name? Only just over 2,000 people get the privilege of having the same last name as me. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were jealous. Most last names only have one capital letter, and of the few that have more most of them start with “Mc” I would say that you have every right to be envious, but I wouldn’t encourage it.
I was going somewhere with this - Oh! - DeMuth. Most people pronounce it incorrectly, or at least differently than my line of family pronounces it. It is not “Duh-mooth” or “Deh-muh-th” or even in the worst instance “Doo-Math.” In case you are wondering, it is, in the best way I can pronounce it with text, “Deh-Myouth” If you are still confused, just give me a ring.
Needless to say, but I shall say it anyway, DeMuth is not a very common name. (Not to say my mothers maiden name of “Sulfridge” is much better... and I won’t even try to teach you how to pronounce that one) I would imagine that some people meet strangers in their lifetime that share the same last name. I say “I would imagine” because this has never happened to me. Still to this day everyone whom I have ever met with the last name “DeMuth” are related to me in some way. To make matters worse my father has three older sisters. It is not particularly “worse” because of the fact alone that he has sisters, but it is particularly “worse” if you want to see your family name continue. In most cases a woman’s last name changes to her husbands when they get married, and this is not good for me or my last name. It is specifically not good for me alone because I am the only son of my father that shares his last name. I hope I have a son some day.
(I keep trying to transition to a particular idea that inspired this blog, but the segues are not working out for me so far.)
Ahem. I was listening to the radio today while I was driving. The radio station I was listening to was not doing a very good job at holding my attention, so I decided to see what else was on. Now channel surfing on the TV is much different than on a Radio. You don’t have any pretty colors or text to catch your eye, you only have sound. I don’t know how long I was scanning the FM frequencies, but that doesn’t matter too much. What does matter, is that I heard it.

“Duh-mooth.”

Two men, apparently uneducated in the proper way to pronounce DeMuth, talking about the author of a new book Daisy Chain by Mary DeMuth. -As far as I know, we are not related, and the good news is, she is married. So that means there is at least one male DeMuth out there helping to keep the name alive.- After listening for about five minutes, I discovered that the name was spelled the same - with my much loved capital M and everything!
Without too much more details, I have learned something about myself. I want to read a book for the first time, not because of a catchy tile or description, but solely because the author shares the same last name.

I’ll let you know if I enjoy the book.

--John D.

Fancy Promo Videos

This is merely an introductory paragraph. The goal of an introductory paragraph is to catch your attention enough for you to read the reset of whatever it is you are about to read. In this paragraph, it is my job to do just that. Instead, I would like to just post a couple of videos for you to watch.
So that's what I'm going to do.
Right now.

Video 1:


Video 2:


The conclusion paragraph will do a little better in my opinion. These videos were made to promote a day that I invented. "Dressin' All Fancy" Day is a holiday-esque day, or more like a rally of some sort... but with almost no purpose. If there were motive, the only true reason would be enjoying one's self, and looking down-right dandy.

--John D.

Keeping Promises

RECENT ACTIVITY

Kevin became a fan of Chuck Norris!
Kevin became a fan of The Chuck Norris.
Kevin became a fan of Chuck, Norris.
Kevin became a fan of Barbie.
Kevin joined the group RAINBOW.
Kevin became a fan of Rainbow.
Kevin joined the group RaiBoW LoVeRs ;).

Kevin changed his Profile Picture.

[[Edit: For some reason, I drew Kevin as a very horrible version of Pee-Wee Herman...]]

My Dearest Kevin,
I need to apologize. I need to apologize because I am a man of my word. I made a promise to you a long time ago, and today I was able to keep my promise. I wish I would have gotten my promise in writing, but for now I will have to paraphrase.
"Mark my words, the next time you leave facebook logged on, you will not know what hit you."
I'm almost 100% sure that I did not say it like that, but for now it will have to do. Also... you know what hit you.

Kevin, don't get me wrong, this was nothing personal. I am not angry at you, and this is not a grudge. You should be happy to know that I am a man of my word.
I am glad to have you as a friend and a co-worker. You have been nice to me and had an opportunity to attack my facebook, but you spared me. Now, I hope that you will return the favor to me when I get careless.
Your friend, coworker, and mutual enemy,

--John D.

Bathrooms and Evolution

This blog has almost nothing to do with evolution, and most things to do with bathrooms. To be even more honest, I don't think I'm going to talk about bathrooms that much.
I just wanted to share an image I made that should make an appearance in a video soon. I am promoting for an event called "Dressin' All Fancy" Day. A day where people all over campus, both far and wide, dress up for a day while attending classes and everyday activities. I hope to post some videos and pictures of the day very soon, shortly after May 15, 2009.

--John D.

Block Party

Well, I've been busy here lately, but somehow I find time to do help with fun projects. This is a promo ad for MVNU's Block Party this Friday.

Block Party - "Numa, Numa" Promo Clip from MVNU SGA on Vimeo.

--John D.

A New Game

So, I have co-discovered a new game. I have no idea if there is a game already like this, but I'm sure someone out there plays it.
I call it "the drawing game" or "the squiggle game," mostly because I'm not that creative with names unless I try very hard.
I didn't try very hard.

Here is what happens in this crazy cool game.
Someone draws a squiggle of some sort. A line with a curve, a circle with a stick, letters. With eyes opened or closed, as long as it is a squiggle that does not look like much of anything.
Then they pass the paper with the squiggle to another person, and they have to add onto that squiggle and make a picture or something out of it.
Then after doing so, and everyone looking at it and going "Oooooohhh!" they draw another squiggle, and then pass the paper again.
Then you repeat until you run out of paper.

[[This is an example of a two player game. You can tell we are art majors.]]

(Click on it)

I think this is my new favorite thing. I have noticed that some people like to do simple squiggles, some very elaborate, and even some with only straight lines.
It's pretty nifty if you ask me.

--John D.

Episode 6: "Lice Lice Baby"

I think this one is my favorite so far. It's a little shorter than the other full episodes, but I love the random humor in it.

--John D.

My parents always said...

My parents always said that ever since I was young, I have always been able to entertain myself. I think that this is a very useful tool to have in life. There have been many times where I was alone, or with other people and there was down time. Down time, with nothing particular to do, can be horrible if there is nothing done with it.

So here are a couple of examples of how I have found myself creating entertainment for myself and others.

1) Toys:
Toys are a wonderful thing. I can honestly say that toys have saved my life from boredom time and time again. Anything action figures to Rubik's cubes: Toys are life necessary in my book.

Example:

2) Simple things:
I have seen some very elaborate advertisements, movies with amazing visual effects, and technology that can do anything that anyone would ever want to do. Saying this, I have also seen all of those from a horrible light. Such as advertisements that have so much "flair" that it's hard to access the information it is throwing in your face. Horrible plot lines that, not matter how amazing the explosions are, just don't serve the movie justice. I don't think I need to expand on technology here.
Simple things are wonderful. Simple things are attractive. Simple things are efficient and in some cases fun. I like fun and simple things.
I am like a child with a cardboard box. I can have fun with a single piece of paper and a pen. Trading my $0.25 for a bouncy ball from a quarter machine is the best investment I have ever made. A simple, yet creative, message with text alone can bring joy.

Example:

So, I hope you find enjoyment in the little things in life. Big fancy things are not always the way to go. Find joy in everything you do, it's well worth it.

--John D.

Rompin'

Stompin'
Hollerin'
Wavin'
and Rompin'

Today I was taking notes in class. I drew this wonderful man... who, for reasons unknown, was angry at the world, and he was saying just as much with his body language.

(Clicking on this picture will not make anything larger)

Just some notes in class.

--John D.

Episode 5: "Puppet Puppet Show Show"

The fifth installment of The John and Bennett Puppet Show is now in existence. John and Bennett decide to host a puppet show called "Bennett and John Puppet Time!"
Flowers are involved!



--John D.

HLC Project

You: What?!? A drawing AND a video?!
Me: Yup.

This is a project that I worked on for MVNU. It played in chapel as a commercial type thing, and a lot of people seem to enjoy it, and I enjoy the compliments.

First the drawing:

(Click on this image, and just like magic, through the wonders of the internets,
it increases in size!)

Second, the video:



Now some more information:
All in all it was almost a miracle that this video got completed. When I first heard about the video, and the concept, I had about a week to have a finished product. Using the excuse that I work better under pressure, I decided to do it all in one night, and have it done two days early.
Then the power at college went out. Four hours before the deadline I had arranged to have a rough cut. The power stayed out for most of the night, and then until 11:30am ish the next day. So I tackled this beast in about two hours total: finishing the drawings, filming, editing, voice over, and such. Then I presented it, and it was greatly loved. And my baby was born and now I get to share him with the world. I hope you enjoy it.

Side note: There is a puppet intro because this was played in chapel. The intro serves no purpose except to be an intro, and catch peoples' attention and make them be quiet before the video officially starts.

--John D.

Episode 4: "Valentine and tine Again"

Sometimes I feel like I only use this blog to post my projects, and lately that is true. I should have some good writings or more drawings soon, but for now enjoy your Valentine's Day and this video too.



--John D.

Episode 3: "Babysat-squatch"

John and Bennett have another internet adventure. Bennett gets a job, I think that is all that needs to be said.



--John D.

Episode 2: "Phone-ing at the Mouth"

I haven't been blogging much recently, but I have been making movie magic. The next video to probably never be featured on youtube is here. Well, not exactly "here" but and you can click on some stuff on this blog to get to "here". (a.k.a. "there")
I hope you enjoy it.

The official continuation of "The John and Bennett Puppet Show."




--John D.

Episode 1: "Strangers than Fiction"

I have to tell you about something amazing. Something so amazing that I cannot describe it in words. Actually, I'm pretty sure I can describe it in words, but it's still pretty awesome.

It is the official start of the "John and Bennett Puppet Show"



I hope you love it.
--John D.

Exclamation Points

I'm pretty sure "Face" is my favorite action bubble ever.

(Click the image, it gets bigger when you do)

Although, Potato might trump that one.

--John D.

A true Need for Speed

Once upon a time, there was a Snail. (His name is not important.)
As the story goes Greg wanted to be a Race-car driver. (Okay, I guess his name was important.) All of his life little, but average snail-sized, Greg dreamed of driving at extreme speeds--going faster than any snail has ever gone. Even faster than that one snail that everyone knows about that went faster than any snail has ever gone. (I think that snail's name was Andrew, or Seymour or something like that. But he went really as far as snails go.) The legend says he had magical slime that allowed such amazing speeds.
Anyway, one day Greg's dream came true. He had the opportunity and enough sponsors to have his own race-car, and it was even specially designed for Greg to control. What snail could ask for more? Greg only encountered one problem: All of the numbers were reserved for human drivers. So Greg wanted to put the letter "S" on his car. ("S" is for Snail!) It only made sense.
The very next Sunday, Greg was in the big race. He was so excited despite being in last place for most of the race. Even with the odds against him, Greg zoomed past all of the competition during the final laps and finished in first place.
The commentators were stunned. The crowd in the stands were astonished. Most of all all of the drivers were ashamed to have been beaten by a Snail!
All that anyone could say was...
"Look at that S-Car Go!"

- - - - - - - - - -

(As always, click the image to make it bigger.)

--John D.

How the Buffalo roam

I need to first explain that drawing buffalo is not easy. I think I did well, but boy oh boy was this guy a pain. This was the first time that I used the sketch as a final product, because the final product looked more like a not-buffalo.

Behold. A Buffalo. On Stilts.

(1. Click Picture; 2. View larger picture)

--John D.

Y2K-9?

First comic of the new year about the new year, almost.

(click to make this humongous)

--John D.