Tag Archives | absurdism

Toulouse Le Grandfig’s Summer Vacation: The English Disease

Dennis TravestyBrighton, circa. 2000

This young gent claims that his name is Dennis Travesty. Don at Prancing Fairy College.

I call him Coclear Implant. Wonder at his hat. The shoes.

And where, do you ask, are the monkeys in this photo? They consumed his artificial eyelashes shortly after it was snapped.

And still, I travel…

Next Time: When Fate Has Its Say

About the Photographer: Toulouse Le Grandfig was a surrealist painter, photographer and writer who never gave up dadaism. Also, he never said never … well, almost never.

You know who’s really attractive, especially when they’re wearing pants and paper bags? Nick Motbot, from Marvellous Hairy. Eat more stew! Originally published July, 2008.

Toulouse Le Grandfig’s Summer Vacation: Birdman

Lok-laach-doJanuary 22, 1978

It appears that in the future, the world is inhabited by a strange race of bird people. I am a happy fellow indeed!

Lok-laach-do is my boon companion, though he is molting.

His teeth are the razors in my soup! His hat is silly! Most egregious is his mustache.

And now, I sing.

Next Time: Land of Large Women

About the Photographer: Toulouse Le Grandfig was a surrealist painter, photographer and writer who never gave up dadaism. Also, his pate was paddled.

You know who could use a good paddling? All the characters in Marvellous Hairy. Them too. Originally published July 2008.

Toulouse Le Grandfig’s Summer Vacation: Departure

Agamon and Piffles on board the PlotnikDecember 37, 1932

My voyage begins on the Ukranian Steam Ship, the Plotnik. On the first day, I met our captain. A diminutive, if stern fellow, by the name of Agamon Destroyer of Life. His constant companion was a mute who went by the name of Piffles. (Though he also answered to “Ahoy Gregor you great walloping pederast.”)

We set sail from Kiev, a week before I left Paris. The sea breeze! The flying monkeys of the Ukraine. Ah, it was a dream come true.

Next Time: Buster Keaton’s Inner Ear

About the Photographer: Toulouse Le Grandfig was a surrealist painter, photographer, writer, and a tremendous watchtower, glistening in the fetid fields of the mind. He ate truffles, magnets and things that made him feel “squingy.” Also, he was a parakeet.

Marvellous Hairy is not a parakeet. It is a dolphin. A flappy, exuberant dolphin of joy. Alltop is a cruller. Originally published July 2008.

Nude Clanking Down a Staircase

female cyborgYou had to hand it to Wanda the Happy Ending Pleasure Borg; sure, she was two-thirds titanium alloy with Buckyball Graphite Tetro-Carbon piping, but she had a sweet disposition, a lovely singing voice, and legs that just didn’t stop.

She had hydraulic servo-motors in places where normal cyborgs could only dream of servo-motors, if you get my meaning. Her lung capacity and subsequent drawing power are also, rather, uh … bracing and give truth to her name. She was originally designed to work at the brothels on Bivalve 12, famed for the race of Silicoids. (You know, the glowing creatures with blood like lava and equipment harder than diamond.)

So don’t let her touch you with her hands.

From Toulouse Le Grandfig in the Land of the Future.

Alltop is also bracing. Originally published, June 2007.

The Curious Case of Toulouse Le Grandfig, Graphic Designer (Part Two)

Entry 2: Dictated: April 26, 1951 (continued from Part One)

For our first session, I thought I would try to understand Grandfig’s psychosis through the medium of his art. I brought in the artwork he had been working on for a hat-maker, and had him role-play what the characters were saying to one another. [Figure 8]

Hat dudesFrom recording of patient interview, April 26, 1951:

Dr. Cornelius: So what are the men in this first panel saying to one another Mr. Grandfig?

Gradfig’s voice: Hey Bob, how are things going with the new job?

Great Jim, I’ve just been assigned to CEO cleanup in sector 6.

Really, how’s that going?

Not well. They keep eating everyone. But at least I have this hat. Of course, it would be nice if it had a laser defense net too!

Dr. Cornelius: What is a laser defense net?

Grandfig: Something to keep the CEOs at bay. Long enough to find a baby or something to throw at them anyway.

Dr. Cornelius: What?

Grandfig: Should I do the next one?

Dr. Cornelius: Uh, I haven’t fully absorbed the first, but yes, let’s.

Grandfig: “Hey Steve how’s that hat feeling. Is the laser defense net uncomfortable?”

“Mrfpp, mdhgtr, pank mawlk … mipe.”

“Yeah, I had a cerebral embolism once too.”

Dr. Cornelius: So you think the man with the pipe had a cerebral embolism?

Grandfig: Of course not. Jones is an idiot.

[sound of heavy sigh]

Dr. Cornelius: How about this last one?

Grandfig: Oh, they’re in love.

[recording stops]

Apparently, Mr. Scott’s amateur diagnosis is correct. Clearly, there are repressed issues afoot, so for our next session, I asked Grandfig to create a painting of his family, and he produced Figure 9:

the family of T le G.

I administered 150 mg of thorazine immediately.

When Grandfig had calmed, I asked him why he was so obsessed with anthropophagy. Had he eaten people?

He was groggy, but he answered. “Not in this timeline Doctor. And in the Land of the Future, all I ever ate was one foot. One foot! You can’t be a cannibal if you eat one foot. Especially if you didn’t know it was a foot. You know I don’t mind telling you, I wish I’d never had my tail removed, then none of this would ever have happened.”

Entry 3: Dictated: April 27, 1951

Thanks for the thorazine!When I dropped by Grandfig’s secured room to see how his night went, I was surprised to see that he was gone. All that was left was a postcard and a small can of food. I ripped off the label, for the record.

The content of the postcard is clearly indicative of some kind of deep paranoia, probably brought about by eating a foot and/or being abused by homosexual Nazis. I must say, I was worried about the veiled threat that I would see Grandfig “in the future.”. The food was clearly mislabeled, as it turned out to be some kind of canned meat.

It was, however, delicious.

You can finds all sorts of canned meat here. My apologies to the authors of The Big Bus. Originally published June 2008.

The Curious Case of Toulouse Le Grandfig, Graphic Designer (Part One)

PATIENT HISTORY OF GRANFIG, TOULOUSE LE

File #: 12-23571-X
Dr. Abe Cornelius
Bellevue Hospital — Psychiatric Triage Center

Entry 1: Dictated: April 25, 1951

The patient was brought into the hospital by several co-workers, including his immediate supervisor at Vandelay, Alderson, Pentergrast, Ilterton and Deckard, a mid-sized advertising company on Madison Avenue.

The Creative Director, Mr. Hillary Scott, introduced Mr. Grandfig to me, and said he was not only a renowned Dadaist, but that he had been working at his firm since late 1949 as a graphic artist.

It is worth examining Mr. Grandfig’s work history to get a sense of the progress of his current disorder.

When Grandfig began working at Vandelay, Alderson, Pentergrast, Ilterton and Deckard (VAPID), he claimed to have arrived in New York from “distant lands” and needed to earn some money. He began working on the Petri account, which needed an “offbeat” touch. According to Mr. Scott, “Toulouse had a great feel for the material, and the odd touches tickled the fancy of our client.”

[See Figure 1:]
Figure One: Rodents in cowboy boots

Mr. Scott added: “The Petri campaign was quite successful, though frankly, all those rodents wearing cowboy boots were kind of disturbing.”

Next Grandfig was put to work on the Arrow Shirts campaign, which was not as successful. Though he did not actually write the copy on this ad, Mr. Grandfig did inspire it with his artwork.

[See figure 2:]
Repressed homosexuality

According to Mr. Scott: “This ad was trying to show how free you feel wearing Arrow Shirts, but frankly, it just screams to me of repressed homosexuality. That’s probably why our client liked it so much.”

Side note for later: examine possibilities of paper exploring how psychiatric terms have entered common parlance to the denigration of our profession.

From there he was put on the Jantzen account, for which Grandfig painted a number of lovely women sporting Jantzen’s clingy (and to this psychiatrist’s mind) deviant bathing wear. This went well up until sometime late in January, when Mr. Grandfig replaced the copy on the ad with his own.

[See figure 3:]
Terrfied sunbather

What other survivors is he writing of? Survivors of the war? Are these troubling images the result of some kind of trauma suffered under the Nazis? I must explore this issue in depth.

After this gaffe, Grandfig was not given any more lettering work. Left with no actual language, Grandfig clearly subsumed his rage and paranoia into his actual artwork. One glance at these paintings for the Van Camp corporation will reveal the sinister and depraved undercurrent to his thoughts.

[Figure 4:]
Demonic

None as alarming as this actual artwork, which Mr. Scott mimeographed for my records. [Figure 5.] Notice the label. Instead of saying “Van Camp’s Pork and Beans”, it clearly reads “Van Camp’s Long-Pork and Beans”. Luckily, Mr. Scott caught this artwork before it went into production.

“Actually, I was torn on whether to stop it or not,” Mr. Scott told me in our interview.

“Really?” I asked.

“Yes, I thought it would be amusing to see what would happen. To see if anyone caught the reference.”

“But you decided against that?”

“Yes, but I have the original hanging in my office. It’s quite brilliant.”

Putting Mr. Scott’s artistic proclivities to the side for the moment, it must be pointed out that long-pork is a reference to cannibalism. Has Grandfig been a participant or witness to such a morally proscribed event? Perhaps the other “survivors” he spoke of have done such a thing. I have heard it was difficult in Europe after the war, but I had no idea it was so serious. Perhaps it only happened in Belgium.

Next, he was caught sneaking into the lettering room to change the text on this advert for some grocery firm.

[Figure 6:]
Your Meat Team

According to Mr. Scott, the issue was brought to a head when this advert for a Chase & Sanborn product went to press, was put on the product, and very nearly went to market.

[Figure 7:]
You can smell the rich baby flavor!

Mr. Scott felt it was safest to bring Grandfig to the hospital for his own safety as well as that of his firm, VAPID.

According to Scott: “I’m pretty sure the copy writers were going to kill him if he changed any more of their work.”

Continued in Part Two.

Many health care professionals are concerned about the proclivities of this funny firm.Originally published, June, 2008.