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Thursday, February 13, 2025

Pulp Figures Mud Men


Here's a small squad of muscular dudes in fearsome masks. Pretty happy with skin tones and texture, their clothing (what there is of it), and the masks. Less happy with the sandy bases. Using glue, even though I'm trying to apply it as thinly as possible, tends to discolour the sand and create clumps. Later experiments show that adding a small amount of sand to wet paint creates better results. 




Wednesday, February 12, 2025

Tuesday, February 11, 2025

Dum-Dum and Recycling Bin

"Dum-Dum" because I painted him to look like a bullet, "Recycling Bin" because the world needs mobile recycling bins that come to your house and get your plastic bags and cardboard boxes. And also chastise you for leaving the tap water running while you brush your teeth.  
 

Monday, February 10, 2025

Doctor Moreau's Favourite

Pulp Figures created a small collection of human-animal hybrids inspired by H.G. Wells' The Island of Doctor Moreau. In the novel, Moreau is working on a puma woman rather than a tiger woman, but if I'd gone with a puma this model would be virtually all black. Therefore, tiger. Is she not woman? 
 

Sunday, February 09, 2025

Tropical Castaway Beachcomber

I had some fun with the basing here, trying to make it look like this castaway is enjoying gentle surf along the beach of his isolated tropical home. 
 

Saturday, February 08, 2025

True Blue Navy Through and Through

"Blast," he thought. "I've got shaving soap on my chin. Too late to do anything about it but doff my hat and hope no one notices. At least my wig is secured." 
 

Thursday, February 06, 2025

Leaning Cowpoke

The shifting sands
Shoveled softly
Sublimate and subvert
Slim Sanderson
Sinking slowly southward
Sighing softly

Tuesday, February 04, 2025

Flash! Oww-wwww!

Just a man
With a man's torn shirt
Nothing but a man
Covered with bruises and blood
No one but this pain-wracked guy
Can save our wo-orld
Oh, Flash
Oh, Flash
 

Monday, February 03, 2025

Rick Barlowe

"Rick, Rick, you still despise me, don't you?" asked Peabody, the little round-faced minion holding the silver snub-nosed revolver currently pointed at my guts. His wheedling was getting on my last nerve, so I snapped at him more unkindly than I could have: 

"I would if I thought about it," I drawled. I pulled a cigarette from my jacket, leaned against my desk, and scraped a match across the bottom of my shoe. I touched the resulting flame to the fag and took a deep puff, contemplating the ceiling fan that whirred above, undisturbed. 

"Stop mocking me!" Peabody spat, brandishing the gun. "I'll shoot you dead if you don't tell me what I want to know!" 

An ironic chuckle slipped free before I could suppress it. "Kid, if you shoot me dead, you're the one that's going to need answering--to the Slender Man." 

"I'm not scared of him!" Peabody yelled, quivering. "He knows I'm loyal!" 

"Oh sure," I said. "So was Dunwich. He was loyal. Quimby was loyal. They were loyal all the way down to the bottom of the bay." 

Peabody burst into tears, cradling his head in his hands. "Oh, if only that witch hadn't interfered! We didn't care about the inheritance! Only the notes! Only the Steinbrunner notes!" 

"Here's a note for you. Get out of my office and tell the Slender Man to come in person next time. I don't talk to flunkies." 

I thought Peabody's eyes would pop free of their sockets, so great was his rage. But after a moment, he left, stomping his size four feet all the way down the hall. 

I turned off the lights so I could stand in the dark for a while. Hallway light spilling through the glass window on my office door painted my name across the weathered wood floor at my feet. The letters were distorted, angular, like buildings in a German expressionist movie. It was the perfect visual metaphor for my state of mind--questioning who I was and what I was doing mixed up in this mess. A younger, smarter version of me wouldn't have gotten involved. But my hair was silver now, and climbing three flights of stairs up to my office had become an unwelcome chore. 

One way or another, this would be my last case. I wondered if I'd finish it dead or alive. 

 

Sunday, February 02, 2025

Slim

She walked into my office that stormy night with neon letters--E-A-T--reflected in eyes of midnight black; her pinched brow finished the sentence with S-H- --

But never mind that. I hadn't had a client in weeks and I was down to my last nickel. When she sat on the edge of my desk and dangled one stiletto heel from her toes, only part of my booze-fogged brain absorbed the details of her case; the other parts were focused on her writhing toes and the curve of that nylon-wrapped foot. Something about an inheritance due her, an inheritance contested by a long-lost supposed black sheep half-sister showing up on her doorstep at a time so inconvenient it beggared belief and buggered up the works. 

Somewhere along the way I caught her name: Slim. Well, slim she was, and so were her cigarettes. Also her patience, because she was snapping her fingers right in front of my eyes. 

"Are you going to take the case, gumshoe, or are you gonna keep staring at my feet?" she barked. Her breath smelled like coffee grounds and tar. I liked it. 

I drew back from her percussive fingers and rose up from my well-worn office chair. 

"My fee is ten bucks a day plus expenses," I said. "Don't ask me to carry a gun or otherwise fool with rough stuff. I'm strictly an investigator. I'm no one's enforcer, no one's goon, no one's gunsel. Get me?" 

She smirked with lips glossy as patent leather. 

"Sure, I get you. How you do your business is--your business," she said. "Besides, if you get yourself killed, no medical expenses. Or any expenses, I suppose." 

"You'll pay my secretary," I growled. She shrugged as if the cash didn't matter at all, then turned on her heel and walked out the door. 

I flicked off the light switch and stood by the window, looking down at the street, the big neon EAT sign flickering on and off, red-yellow, red-yellow. I hoped to see those long legs again, marching off down the sidewalk, but she must have headed west instead of east. 

I thought about going downstairs to the diner to spend my last nickel, but a coffee went for ten cents these days and I hadn't asked for an advance. My mind had still been preoccupied by the sheen of nylon stretched over smooth, uncallused feet. She was the kind of gal who used a pumice stone. 

A little while later I'd find out I was wrong about a lot of things regarding Slim and her case--but not the condition of her feet. 

 

Saturday, February 01, 2025

Harpo Barx

This poor fellow had a little bit too much to drink, and the results are all over the pavement. 
 

Friday, January 31, 2025

Sockbot and Flattop

Here's another pair of robots for Star Schlock. I find the sculpts for these guys pretty charming. 
 

Thursday, January 30, 2025

83

Dad would have turned 83 today, had pancreatic cancer not taken him away in 2018. Here he is at left with his father, William Woods, sometime in the late 1950s. 

Happy birthday, Dad. I hope you're flying something cool. 

 

Monday, January 27, 2025

Spy Smasher

Technically this is a Gyro Raider mini from Pulp Figures, but something compelled me to paint him in Spy Smasher colours. I think he makes a pretty good Spy Smasher.

Here's one of the images I used as a reference. 

Saturday, January 25, 2025

Courageous Mountaineer

Like brave mountaineers
We never were much bothered by time

 

Friday, January 24, 2025

Vivisection 31

Star Trek: Section 31 (Olatunde Osunsanmi, 2025) is the first direct-to-streaming Star Trek feature film. It also has the distinction of being the worst Star Trek feature film of any kind. 

Based on Section 31, the shadowy spy organization first seen in season six of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, this new film pulls Section 31 from dark corners and into the spotlight, thereby subverting and missing the point of the original DS9 episodes featuring 31. Rather than asking questions with some nuance and ambiguity about moral actions in times of war, Section 31 (the film) tries to turn one of Star Trek’s most despicable villains into a hero while replacing spy intrigue with fight scenes and explosions. 

Mission Briefing

Control speaking. You are directed to watch a very special episode of Mission: Impossible reskinned in Star Trek: Discovery and Suicide Squad (the worse one) garb. Believe in the extremely plausible redemption arc of Emperor Philippa Georgiou (Michelle Yeoh), admitted genocidal cannibal and torturer from the Mirror Universe! Watch her team up with a ragtag assortment of unlikeable Section 31 agents to chase a McGuffin before it wrecks the galaxy! Revel where no Star Trek story has revelled before! Revel, I say! 

Well, in the words of another Control before me, “That’s why it’s called Mission: Impossible, not Mission: Difficult.” 

Dark Origins

Originally developed as a new Star Trek series, Section 31 was whittled down into a single film presumably because Michelle Yeoh became way too busy (and expensive) to commit to a series in the wake of her escalating popularity rising from Everything Everywhere All at Once. This turn of events is a blessing, leaving us with just a couple of hours of agony instead of several seasons’ worth of pain. 

13 Things Wrong with Section 31

Cinematography. The camera can’t sit still, transitioning from snap-zoom to snap-pan to shaky-cam to torturously elaborate spins and swoops that distract from the story telling. 

Editing. The hyperkinetic editing brings to mind the excesses of later Bourne movies; it’s distracting and fails to capture the stunt work of the fight scenes, rendering them impotent. 

Plot. In a remote corner of the galaxy, outside Federation space, someone has a doomsday device and it’s up to our heroes to get it out of the hands of the bad guys. Absolutely by-the-numbers with not a single interesting take on a very old trope. 

Dialogue. The dialogue is filled with painful catchphrases stolen from 21st century sitcoms and action movies, ruining our immersion in what’s supposed to be the far future while annoying us at the same time. None of the cheap laughs land at all.

Characters. Aside from Emperor Georgiou, who benefits from the character development she enjoyed on Star Trek: Discovery, none of our protagonists exist as other than as science fiction tropes decades old. There’s a sexy vamp, a grizzled combat veteran (with a thrown-in backstory established strictly in dialogue to tie the story back to better movies and shows), the comic relief, a shapeshifter, the Starfleet officer pressed into Section 31 service because she somehow messed up (never explained), and a guy in a really janky-looking mech suit. 

Cheap laughs and cultural insensitivity. Two of the characters have exaggerated Irish (?) accents because ha ha, accents are funny and just add to the quirkiness of this lovable bunch. You’d think we’d have outgrown this kind of humour by now, but no. 

Direction. There’s no tension in any of this. There are foot, hovercar, and spaceship chases without any zing or real stakes. Also, the actors are either explicitly told to ham it up or the director just can’t control them. Half of these performances are so over the top you want to throw things at the main viewscreen. Er. The TV, I mean. The other performances are TOO understated. And finally, an unforgiveable sin outside of parody: the protagonists walk toward the camera in slow motion to show how badass they are. At least there wasn’t an explosion blooming behind them. 

Twist. There’s a twist. This isn’t a spoiler, because you’ll see it coming from a mile away. Actually there are two twists. You’ll  see both of them coming from two miles away. Each twist is explained with exposition and flashbacks to be sure you understand each twist. 

Music. The music, even though created by the talented Jeff Russo, is bland as bland can be, especially for an action film. 

Phasing. Remember that episode of TNG where LaForge and Ro are out of phase with the rest of the people on the Enterprise, and yet they don’t fall through the floor? Section 31 makes the same mistake and compounds it by having a character get stuck while passing through a wall without the wall exploding or their foot being severed at the ankle. 

Most embarrassing surprise cameo ever. Oh boy, I would have loved this for this person if it had been any other Star Trek project. Alas. 

Extreme stakes. Far too often in modern Star Trek the heroes face galaxy- or even universe-threatening disasters, and Section 31 does the same. NOT EVERY STORE CAN HAVE STAKES THIS HIGH. The impact is utterly lost. 

And most importantly and most damning of all: Why is this even a Section 31 story? The way this tale is structured, it could just as easily been the crew of the USS Cerritos taking on this mission. Or the folks from DS9. Or maybe a pack of Klingon warriors. Any of these would have worked just as well as Section 31, because there’s no spycraft in this story! There’s no skullduggery! No questions of morality or ethics are ever raised, aside from one character’s note that “I’m here to make sure no one gets murdered.” This film is about Section 31, but aside from the limited participation of Control—the mission commander—this story has none of the essential trappings of the organization it’s purportedly about, nor does it touch any of the original themes raised in DS9 in any meaningful way. It’s “rule of cool” taken to ridiculous extremes, except none of it is cool.  

Stories I Enjoyed More Than Section 31

Every other Star Trek film. Yes, including Star Trek V: The Final Frontier, Star Trek: Nemesis, and Star Trek Into Darkness

“The Alternative Factor”

“And the Children Shall Lead”

“The Way to Eden”

“Turnabout Intruder”

“Shades of Gray”

“Endgame”

“These Are the Voyages”

Season two of Star Trek: Picard

At least these episodes and movies, as flawed as they are, were made with a level of professionalism and pride that eclipses the laziness and cynicism on display in Section 31. Every example named above tried to be about something--or at the very least was brought low by production difficulties. Section 31 has no such excuse. 

I would also rather rewatch

  • Any Transformers film
  • Artemis Fowl
  • The Blind Side
  • Attack of the Clones
  • The Rise of Skywalker

Well…maybe not that last one. But boy is it close. 


Thursday, January 23, 2025

Shrieking Dale Arden


"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY HANDS?!" 

Sorry, Dale. At least the rest of you looks decent enough. 

Wednesday, January 22, 2025

Dr Cyclops

This is one of my favourite pulp minis. I love the retro mad scientist vibe, masked behind a radiation suit and wielding a futuristic ray gun. 

As another Doctor Cyclops (below) said, "Now you really can call me Doctor Cyclops...because I have one good eye." 


Tuesday, January 21, 2025

Joey the Trainer

"Ya gotta hit him from the left, ya lousy bum! Are you throwing this fight on purpose? You better be, because if this performance is really the best you can do I'll make you start sparring with my gramma! She'll teach you a thing or two, you lazy louse!"