Otherwheres Collide… (A humorous science fiction thriller)… Chapter 2…

(Author’s Note)… Don’t worry. I will give you some background details on what is happening sooner or later. For now, you don’t need to know that a Xxo is a 9 to 12-foot-tall alien that has eyes and mouths surrounding its middle stalk, and tentacles on top and bottom, and looks a little like a giant broccoli. You don’t need to know how this series of action/humor science fiction books is responsible for me meeting Eric Idle of Monty Python fame. You don’t need to worry about who all the humans and aliens are, or why there are two Arthur’s… or three, if you count the one in this reality… or millions, if you count the ones in all the realities. Just read the story and see if it interests you. Or makes you want to buy the first three novels in the series… available over there—> in my sidebar… just in time for Christmas… wink, wink, nudge, nudge.


Chapter Two

 

Frodo came running back into the waiting room. “Arthur,” he said urgently, “the Xxo fleet is calling the command center. I can put it over the speakers in here if you wish.”

“Command center?” asked Arthur distractedly, “we have a command center?”

Mr. Toad spoke from behind Arthur. “Well, our communications system already spanned the entire populated universe. No Earth government has our capabilities. The President agreed that it would be best to just let you run things from here.”

Before Arthur had a chance to point out that the entire fiasco was being broadcast live, a voice came over hidden speakers to announce, “This is Councilor Commander X of the Xxo battle fleet. I need to speak to Mr. Blacke immediately.”

“This is Arthur Blacke,” said Arthur, speaking in the Xxo language, and hoping the commander would take the hint.

He did. “At your command, Battle Fleet Commander,” said the battle tested commander over the speakers.

“Wait, what?” Arthur shot back.

“The Council has decided that you should be put in overall command of our fleet. They still don’t trust the Warlord, or the General as you call him. Besides, it is tradition for the messenger who brings the call to war to lead. That is why he must fulfill the requirements,” was the reply.

Oh, crap, Arthur chided himself, I forgot that part. “So are you on your way?” he asked, feeling a faint stirring of hope.

“Yes, we are now in the process of sending ships through the Nexus Point nearest your Earth. But I have unfortunate news,” said the Xxo.

Of course you do, Arthur decided morosely.

The Xxo commander went on. “They managed to infiltrate more of those imposters onto most of our ships. They were mostly just lower rank engine or navigation personnel, but corrupted programs were introduced. Engines are malfunctioning and guidance systems are unreliable.”

Arthur felt a chill settle down his back.

The Xxo officer continued. “We have 270 ships that seem to be in good working order, but there may be more doubles on board some of them, or sabotage that has not yet been activated. Sadly, I must report that all our heavy battle ships and cruisers were disabled. Those units we are bringing are all light vessels, destroyers and frigates and some scout craft.”

“Okay, councilor commander, I should have seen this coming. An enemy fleet is gathering near Earth at this moment. Until I have more information on their strength, I just want you to form up your ships and start heading this way also. But do not enter our solar system until you hear from me.” Or whoever they put in charge after I get blown to smithereens, he didn’t add.

“At your orders, Commander,” said the Xxo, and signed off.

Arthur felt Mr. Toad pushing the camera in between him and the pseudo-Big Jonny and inside his not-quite friend’s leather jacket. He heard Tarlek Da’s voice on Mr. Toad’s phone speaker.

“Ah, as I suspected, this device is not from somewhere else. It is of Reaver manufacture. The Reavers make sophisticated weaponry, and I am no expert on their technology,” said the lava lamp-like scientist.

“No, but I know who is,” said Arthur. “Mr. Toad, buddy, tell the Prince to call the President and find out where Rubar and his boys are being held. You better get an executive pardon set up. Then send Gollum to pick them up in the Reaver ship that Ox brought back from the Hub. I need them here now.”

Mr. Toad scampered out and returned in just a minute or two.

Arthur’s cell phone rang again. The General answered it and informed Arthur that the President was on the line, then pushed the speaker button.

“Admiral, glad to have you back,” said the savvy politician. “We are watching you on a monitor right now. I have sent word to release the Reavers. They are being held in San Quentin quite near to you. Is there anything else I can do?”

“I’ll have to get back to you on that, Mr. President,” Arthur said. Mr. Toad rushed out to tell Gollum where to pick up the Reavers. Just as he came back in the room, a new voice came over the lobby speakers.

“Uh, Sir, this is the command center. You have an incoming transmission. I think you need to hear this, Sir.”

“Sure, I’m not going anywhere,” said Arthur with a bleak chuckle. “Put it over the speakers.”

“Well, if it isn’t my old buddy, me,” said a disturbingly familiar voice.

“Who am I speaking to?” asked Arthur, even though he already knew.

“Hey, you are talking to yourself, dude,” came the reply, “and you know what they say about people who talk to themselves.”

Arthur just closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

“You can smile and wave if you want,” continued the annoying voice. “We are watching you on the news right now. And I have to say, you look good. But how do you keep getting yourself into these strange predicaments, Arthur? These kinds of things never happen to me.”

“And just where are you watching the news from?” Arthur decided to ask.

“From the bridge of a warship heading towards your Earth,” said the voice. “Did I forget to mention that the Doraimee made me the commander of our first wave? I guess he just thought it would be funny.”

“So how does it feel to sell out your own race?” asked Arthur of himself.

“My race has already gone to a new owner,” said the other.

Arthur suddenly had an idea and he called Mr. Toad over and began to whisper in his ear hole. Mr. Toad grabbed Gup, and they trotted out to find the others and set Arthur’s plan in motion. All over the universe, more and more millions of beings made their way to monitor screens to follow the unfolding events concerning their favorite reality star. So far these events were as baffling as they were entertaining. Arthur just wished he could give his sore, cramped fingers a rest.

“We are going to be there soon, Arthur,” said his own voice over the speakers. “You were smart to pull your ships back. This is just the first wave of the invasion, and you don’t even have the forces to slow us down.”

Rubar and another Reaver suddenly burst into the room. They both came to attention in front of Arthur. “Reporting as ordered, Battle Commander,” bellowed Rubar. “Don’t worry, Sir, I brought my best bomb guy. We will have you out of there in a jiffy, as you humans like to say.”

No one noticed Gup and Frodo come in and stand below the floating Reporter where they wouldn’t show up on the live broadcast.

“Hey,” said the taunting voice over the speakers, “I can hear my own voice on the news. Hello universe, this is Arthur Blacke calling. That guy you are looking at is an imposter. I am coming to arrest him right now. Don’t worry, I will save the day again.”

Great, thought Arthur, I am a smartass with a twisted sense of humor in at least two realities. He glanced around to see if his friends were ready for their performance, and got nods and winks. He wasn’t happy about his plan. A lot of people were going to freak out, but it couldn’t be helped.

“My hands are too tired to hold him,” he screamed, “the bomb is going to go off.” There was a loud bang and a bright flash of light, and the room went dark.

All around the universe sentient beings watched the explosion, and then the live broadcast ceased. Across the stars there was a collective wail of misery and despair.

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Making Art’s art even more arty… part 3…

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This time, I am not even going to repost the original photo of the two vases from my glass blowing class.

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I will post that photo… which is the original photo that I moved into Photoshop and did a little magic on…

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The rest are just copies of that photo…

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With a few digital effects thrown in…

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For some reason, these filters show things in the glass that you can’t see in a regular photo.

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And that, perhaps, is why I never get sick of them.

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Making Art’s art even more arty… part 2…

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Hold on… don’t panic… I will explain it all…

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I simply took that photo of one of my glass blowing class projects… my very first one…

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Then I opened the photo in Photoshop, and made it a little more artsy…

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Before I added a few magic filter effects…

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Just for the fun of it…

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And these are what I ended up with.

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More arty Art art.

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Because that is what multimedia should be, right?

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tRump finally got something done… and it is going to come back to bite us all on the ass…

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Just sayin’…

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Making Art’s art even more arty… part 1…

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You will be forgiven if you don’t recognize that photo as one I took of some of the projects from my glass blowing class…

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There, now you can at least guess that it is a photo of two vases.

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Why am I taking photos of my art and making them more arty?

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Because it is fun!

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And because I can.

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And because why should I just leave stuff I made sitting on a shelf, or on somebody else’s shelf?

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But the thing is… (hello, thing, where have you been hiding?)… I do it mostly to keep the crack squirrels that live inside my head busy… so they don’t chew on the wiring.

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Otherwheres Collide… (A humorous science fiction thriller)… Chapter 1…

(Author’s Note)… It did seem obvious, as I reread this draft of the fourth book in my action/humor science fiction series: ‘The Otherwhere Chronicles’, that it might take you a while to get up to speed if you don’t know any of the characters because you haven’t read any of the other three self-published books… available over there—> in my sidebar. But just go with it. See if it entices you to want to read more. What is the worst that can happen? I mean, yeah, you can wait until they make them into a movie, staring Brad Pitt as me… I mean, not this me, the me in the story, the one from the other dimension exactly like this dimension, only chock full of aliens.

In future author’s notes, I will give some of the backstory. I will tell you more about me… uh… the other me… and the aliens, and I will throw in some pictures of the aliens too. Mostly, I am using posting this on my blog as an excuse to finish the final edits.

Oh, also, this might not be the final name of this novel. I might go with: The Gate Between Otherwheres, or: The Otherwhere Invasion.

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Chapter One

 

Almost as an afterthought, Mr. Toad added one more thing. “I nearly forgot, Arthur,” which Arthur found hard to believe, “there is a rather large human who has been hanging around for the last few days. He claims to be a friend of yours. He is waiting inside.”

“Did he give you a name?” Arthur asked.

“Yes,” Mr. Toad told him, “a Mr. Jon Von Icon, as I recall.”

“Big Jonny,” said Arthur happily, and picked up his pace.

Arthur had missed seeing Big Jon when he had been on Earth the last time. Jon Von Icon was an old friend. Not growing up together old, but they had been friends a long time. Jon had been a good friend of a girl Arthur was dating when he was twenty-something. Jon and the girl had moved from San Diego to attend U.C. Berkeley from the same high school. Arthur is six feet four inches tall, as I may have mentioned, and Jon is three or four inches taller than that, which I presume accounts for the nickname.

Jon was not only tall but massively built. I don’t mean chunky, he was just big. But he was also smart, sweet, and kind in that way that big men sometimes are. He rode a motorcycle and usually wore black leather riding jackets and boots. With his long, dark, ringlet-curled almost Rasta-style hair people could be excused for thinking him a hard-ass. That is until he smiled. Jon was a nice guy.

Jon rose from the couch in the lobby when he spotted Arthur, and as they approached each other he said, “Hey,” in that drawn out way he had of saying hello, and the two met in a back-slapping bear hug. And Jon didn’t seem to want to let Arthur go. Arthur was okay with that until Big Jonny whispered in his ear, “I am so sorry.”

Arthur realized with horror that this Big Jonny wasn’t really his Big Jonny, and that he might be about to die. This wouldn’t be just another attempt to capture him with a transport beam. And I haven’t even told my mom that I am an Admiral and Supreme Commander of the Combined Allied Defense Force, he thought sadly. He could feel Jon doing something with his right hand where it rested on the small of his back, and he knew he had to do something as well.

Before he even began to try to think of a plan, his ingrained memory stone-aided martial arts training caused his hands to open and move, his fingers pressing into nerve bundles on the base of Jon’s neck and spine. He felt his almost-friend stiffen as the attack on the nerve centers overrode his nervous system, locking his body down tight. All the other beings stood calmly about the room, watching the touching reunion, completely unaware that the hug had transitioned into a life or death struggle.

“Uh, people, we have a slight problem here,” said Arthur in a weary voice. He suddenly realized that he hadn’t slept for more than twenty-four hours.

His friends exchanged confused glances. Ooox took a step closer to the two embracing humans. Perhaps the big one was trying to squeeze Arthur to death, and Ooox took his job as bodyguard seriously. Ox also moved, trying to fulfill his role as head of security.

“Stop,” said the General and the Warlord simultaneously, their keen military instincts sensing the danger if not its exact form.

“I think my friend Jon has a bomb or something,” Arthur tried to explain. “I have him immobilized. There might be a detonator in his right hand.”

Everyone started shouting, but Arthur couldn’t help but notice that not one of them moved. That only lasted a second or two, but it felt longer to Arthur. Then Mr. Toad, the General and the Warlord were leaping into action. Mr. Toad herded everyone else out of the lobby and told them to clear the building and the entire area. Meanwhile the General and the Warlord moved closer to inspect the unusual scene of this most uncommon terrorist attack.

Arthur broke in before everybody started to move. “Gup, I would really like you to stay. You are my tech guy. If anyone can defuse a device from another dimension, I know you can.”

Gup nearly shed tears of gratitude, but managed to just nod as he stepped up beside the other two Xxos. Ooox and Ox wanted to stay, but Arthur made them leave. He was at least kind enough not to say that the time of usefulness for either a bodyguard or a security chief had already passed. Or maybe he was just too tired and afraid to think of it.

Mr. Toad returned a few moments later holding a small video camera, a hybrid human-alien device manufactured by the Universe Company. Arthur asked Mr. Toad to withdraw to safety, but the plucky little executive secretary refused to budge. “I am sending this video feed to Tarlek Da,” Mr. Toad stated firmly. “His lab is safely far away. He may be able to assist us. He is, after all, a weapons specialist.”

What Arthur and even Mr. Toad did not yet know was that Mr. Toad had inadvertently brought one other thing with him when he returned to the waiting room. It was a Reporter globe, and it just drifted through the door behind Mr. Toad before the door swung shut. In less time than it takes to tell, a large percentage of the universe was once again glued to their monitors watching Arthur Blacke make a spectacle of himself. What they didn’t know was why watching Arthur hugging some other hairy human was supposed to be newsworthy. But strangely or not, virtually none of them decided to watch something else. Indeed, most of them contacted friends and relatives and told them to start watching too. The universe collectively decided to have faith in Arthur Blacke, faith that he would wind up in some outlandish and entertaining predicament that would make for interesting viewing. Well, they had no idea how right they were.

Arthur just stood still, pressing his fingers into the back and neck of the friend who was an enemy. He could hear Gup and the Xxos discussing what to do from behind him. “He is definitely holding a switch of some kind in his right hand,” confirmed Gup.

“There are wires running from it into his sleeve,” said the Warlord.

“And he is holding the switch down, which means it is a deadman’s switch,” stated the General.

Well of course it is, thought Arthur, if I let him go, he lets go of the switch and we all go boom. And my fingers are really getting tired.

“Move the camera please, Mr. Toad,” Arthur heard Tarlek Da saying over a phone speaker. “I need to see what the switch is wired to. Arthur, can you lean back so that we can get in between you and, um, that other fellow?”

“Not without letting him set off the bomb,” Arthur said seriously.

Bomb, thought the universe’s viewing audience, what bomb? You could really count on that Arthur guy to put on a show.

“What if I just hold down the switch and take it out of his hand?” asked Gup.

“That will only work if there are no backup detonation methods,” pointed out Tarlek Da.

Arthur decided to try talking to Big Jonny. He whispered in his ear, “Jon, can you hear me?”

“Uuuuunnnnggghhh,” said Big Jonny.

“You don’t really want to do this do you?” Arthur asked.

“Uuunnnhhhhhhh,” replied the nerve-locked individual.

“Are they forcing you to do it?” Arthur prodded.

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhh,” came the strained and less than helpful reply.

Then Arthur’s cell phone rang. What is it, Arthur pondered, with cell phones? He felt a tentacle lift the phone from his belt holder.

“It is Capt. Browne of the Obama, Arthur,” said the General. “She says it is an emergency.”

“By all means, put it on speaker,” replied Arthur with a sigh.

“Sir, I was not informed you were back on Earth, but one of my off-duty officers said he saw you on the TV in the ward room.”

“I was about to call you, Captain, but something came up,” said Arthur dryly.

“So I have been told, Sir,” said Captain Browne with equal aplomb. “But I have to report that scanners are picking up a large fleet gathering outside the solar system. It isn’t the Xxo fleet, Sir. I’m afraid the invasion may have just begun.”

Invasion, wondered the universe’s news junkies, what invasion?

“You’ll have to start the dance without me, Captain, I’m a little tied up at the moment,” was all Arthur could think of to say, at least at first. “No, wait, pull all your, uh, our forces back to the far side of our system. Do not engage the enemy until I give the order. You must stay alive and in one piece until our friends arrive. Maybe they can attack from the rear. We have to stall for time.”

“I’m not going to argue with you, Admiral,” said Capt. Browne. “That fleet is already huge, and it is still growing. And you try to stay in one piece as well, Sir. Obama out.”

Very funny, thought Arthur peevishly.

Admiral, wondered the Universe at large, did she just call Arthur Blacke Admiral?

Great, Arthur decided to himself, the Supreme Commander just gave his first order; run away. My life is a bad comedy sketch. “Jon,” he whispered fiercely, “whatever hold they have over you isn’t going to go away if you blow us up. You can’t trust Fahh, you know that. We have to beat him.”

“Uhhhhggghhhh,” came the strained reply.

“Is there a backup detonation method?” Arthur asked softly.

“Uhhhhhhhh,” was the expected but completely useless answer.

Arthur felt the cramps in his fingers getting worse. That’s when he noticed the Reporter hovering near the ceiling. He felt himself beginning to get angry, and it occurred to him that the enemy most likely monitored the news also. So now they knew he was alive but helpless, and that he had just ordered their only defense force to retreat, and that there were reinforcements on the way. To top it all off, he was making the worst début as a Supreme Commander in all of military history while billions of people watched.

Could this day possibly get any worse?

Well of course it could.

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The fire bowl… with some extra magic…

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These are some photos of the ‘fire bowl’ I made in my glass blowing class.

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I guess, technically speaking, these are all the same photo…

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Of the same bowl…

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And I just did some special effects on them…

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Thereby turning my art into even more art…

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Because I am funny that way.

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Otherwheres Collide… (A humorous science fiction thriller)… prologue…

(Author’s Note)… Well, here it is. I am going to start posting the chapters of the fourth and probably not final book of my action/humor science fiction series: The Otherwhere Chronicles. Although the books are, I think, able to stand alone, it would obviously behoove you to buy the first three, if you find yourself getting sucked into the story. They are available right there—> in my sidebar—> by clicking on the little pictures of my book covers.

Even if you don’t care about how all the hundreds of characters and dozens of races ended up where they are, or why they are doing what they are doing, please feel free to give me some feedback. Pointing out any glaring mistakes would be helpful too, but I did get around my inability to edit my own work by having this story be written and told by some unknown alien. So, if he isn’t an expert in the English language, don’t blame me.

Here is the prologue, which begins each of the four books. It will give you some sense of what is going on… I suppose… And I am not going to put the list of characters and races that are included in the books, unless a few of you really want me too. Why distract you from some light reading. Also, I will not post the last quarter of so of the book. Something about a cow and giving the milk away for free. HA!

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Otherwheres Collide

Prologue

 

I would like to take credit for writing this story, but the truth is that I did not. I realize that by placing my name on it I seem to be taking credit for its authorship, and I do apologize for that. In my own defense I feel justified in claiming some ownership because in a way, this story is about me. Oh, it isn’t about the me that is writing these words in this time and place, but if I am not mistaken, the hero of this story is another me from another reality.

I realize how confusing this must be to you. It certainly confused me when I first began to try to understand it all. And the story itself, not just the details surrounding it, is strange and a little mystifying.

For one thing, it seems to have been written by an alien. And as if that wasn’t difficult enough to take in, the alien in question has a tendency to ramble on and then suddenly veer from the course of his own narrative to go shooting off in some completely new direction. He also has a penchant for leaving important details out and then coming back to them at a later time, at least when he isn’t going into incredible depth of detail over some seemingly insignificant bit of information.

If you can manage to make it past these idiosyncrasies the story is absolutely incredible. Moreover, I believe that every word of it is true. I have not edited or changed the story in any way despite the unusual style of the writing. I want it to unfold for you in the same way that it did for me. I did not feel that it was my place to second-guess the author’s choice of words nor the order in which he placed them. Once you get used to the manner in which he wrote, the style has a certain grace, elegance and flow that is really quite charming.

Perhaps I should begin at the beginning.

The manuscript containing this story showed up on my front porch about a year and a half ago. Someone dropped it off, rang the doorbell, and then disappeared. It arrived wrapped in a large leather pouch. I am assuming that the pouch was some type of leather, although unlike any that I have ever seen For one thing, it was a deep, rich purple color. I don’t mean that it was dyed or otherwise colored purple. I mean the skin of whatever beast the strangely textured hide came from was actually purple.

The paper on which the story was written was likewise otherworldly, and I do not use that word lightly. The paper, if paper it was, was a bright, shiny white and was thinner than any tracing paper, and yet I could not tear it with my bare hands. It could be cut with sharp scissors, but it would not burn even when held in the flame of a candle, nor would it be dirtied by the soot of the smoke.

The words themselves, in English, were written by hand. But as I have stated, I have come to believe that the hand that wrote them was not the hand of a human being. The ink used was red, and glowed with a faint inner light. You can, in point of fact, read them in a completely darkened room.

As you read the story you will come to understand that the narrator is describing events that he actually witnessed and yet he takes no active part and the participants in the story seem to be unaware of him. I am convinced that the being who wrote these words did indeed observe all the events that transpired without being a part of them, if that makes any sense at all.

Of course I thought this was all some elaborate hoax when I received the package, a practical joke being played on me by some particularly clever friend. But I rapidly understood, as the miraculous properties of the ink and paper made themselves known to me, that this was not the answer to this mystery.

Once I began to read the words themselves, written in a beautifully flowing script, I ceased to worry about the origins of the documents and became instead enthralled by the story itself. Oh, the style of the storytelling can be trying but once you get past that, the story begins to sweep you along. You are floating on a raft in a river of words, and you begin to wonder what strange places this magical river will meander to next. Yes, you get delayed by swirling currents or sidetracked into small tributaries, but even these diversions from your journey offer panoramic vistas or unexpected delights. They add to the adventure rather than detract from it, and you never know when something that you learned during one of these interludes will become important later in your voyage.

The story is like a river in one other way. As it progresses it becomes deeper and wider and swifter in its passage. The journey becomes ever more exciting as you pass through rapids and dodge jutting rocks. And if, as I believe, it all actually happened, or will happen, or is happening, then there is hope for all of us. And I don’t just mean all of us here on this planet.

I found this hope in the hero of the story who happens to share my first name, and if he is real, a great deal more than that. Oh, on the face of it he is a most unlikely hero. He is over 50 years of age. He works as a custodian on an alien space station and is in no way important or even special. He isn’t particularly strong or brave or clever or smart. He is, when you get right down to it, quite reluctant to take on the role of hero, and yet take it on he does despite his feelings. And in a strange way that is the most heroic thing about him.

He is lazy, sarcastic, irreverent, irritable, stubborn, self-centered and quirky. But he can be funny and charming, loyal and even brave when it is required. But he also refuses to take himself too seriously, and this goes a long way towards making up for his less than stellar qualities. He may well be, as I said, the most unlikely hero ever born of our species, and yet somehow that just seems to make him more human.

It slowly dawned on me, as I began to read about this other Arthur, that he was in fact me. There are facts in the story that only someone who knows me intimately could possibly know. Many of the facts are just a little bit wrong, the details just a little bit different, but the similarities are overwhelming. This is me. But another me from another reality, another dimension.

I realize this is all hard to believe. I know that it requires you to accept as fact that there are endless otherwheres and otherwhens and countless other yous out there. I was forced just then to use words that do not exist to try to get you to accept the existence of places that do exist but that you can not see or touch. If you cannot bring yourself to see the truth in all this, I cannot blame you. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to believe either.

But once I got past all that, and I accepted the fact that we are not alone, that the universe is populated with a multitude of other beings, and that this isn’t the only universe, I began to realize that being alone on our planet is much worse than being a part of a much larger family. And not only you, but each and every one of those beings out there around us also has their own endless version of themselves in other universes, universes quite like ours and universes so different that we would recognize not one bit of them.

It is that very endlessness that gives me hope. Because endlessness, by definition, never ends. And that means that we will never end, no matter what befalls us in this reality that is all that we know.

So believe or not as you choose, but the aliens will find us sooner or later. They will come and most of them will be friendly. And if some of them are not friendly, just know that somewhere out there is a man named Arthur who has a way of keeping bad things from happening.

I am fairly sure that I am not the only me to get a copy of this manuscript. That other me, the one around which this story centers, now has the ability to cross between realities. I think that he is giving the story to as many other hims, or us’s, as he can in his spare time. I am not entirely sure of his motives. It might be his way of telling us that momentous events are coming our way. But I suspect that the main reason he is doing it is that he just thinks it’s funny.

  1. H. Browne
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I swear we are almost done with the four-headed giraffe thing… the final chapter…

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This is one of my favorite filters in than free online website I am always trying to get you guys to use to spice up your blogs. It is called ‘groovy rainbow’, and is under the ‘animations’ menu.

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Yes, it turns my silly ‘four-headed giraffe with gratuitous ostrich heads’ picture into the closest approximation of growing up in the Berkeley side of the San Francisco Bay Area during the sixties and seventies that you can get from a free photo manipulation program… but it also works on your photos of your family, or vacation pictures.

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Once again, I am throwing in a few variations of this picture I did, with different backgrounds, just to highlight how the effects work in different ways on each picture you upload to ‘Lunapic.com’… which, once again, is free and very easy to use.

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Just go in there, upload a photo, and start playing with the menu options.

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Two or three clicks, and then you just download the new image right to your computer.

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And, just so you know, I am still doing these same things to those photos of the glass pieces I made at my glass blowing lessons.

a 5 a

Because the only thing cooler than making art, is making the art into even more artsy art, am I right?

a 5

Of course I am. My name is Art… and I am all art-side-of-the-brain.

b 1

But look! Even without a fancy background, this is still a cool effect.

b 8

Now, I am going to go stick all these on Facebook… to make my friends worry about my mental health.

 

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I swear we are almost done with the four-headed giraffe thing… part 3…

a 1 a

Here are a few examples of what the ‘flame effect’ menu option in ‘Lunapic.com’ can do for… or too… your photos.

a 1

And, as you can see by the unaltered version of each picture I am posting below the altered version, you never know what any of the effects will do to your photos.

a 2 a

I don’t work for Lunapic. I get nothing by suggesting you visit their website and try playing around with some of your photos in there. Or your artwork.

a 2

I just think everybody should upload some stuff into it, and play around.

a 3 a

I know that I started off with a fairly interesting piece of art to begin with. But this all works just as well on any picture. Look how the chain link fence in that one actually looks like it is getting heated up by the flames.

a 3

Try putting a bad selfie of your own face in there, and see what happens.

a 4 a

Open all the menus and play with all the options in them.

b 7

What do you have to lose?

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