OUT THERE GRAPHICS FRENETICS

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A very nice Blues album by my good friend, Cole Prior Stevens. Check out his website:
COLESTEVENS.NET

Nobody's an expert at anything around here.
Our energies are in different categories, on seperate levels.

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ALWAYS DEDICATED TO THE MIRACLE OF IDEAS — MINE, NOT YOURS
On this website, the goal is to develop and feature original ideas using creative mediums to communicate a thought that would heighten the attitude of any viewer towards positive resolutions or inspire to better the quality of their life or someone else's. Inside this website, will be artistic contributions aimed toward that goal.

IF INSANE WAS GOLD — WE'D ALL BE RICH
what's that?

Picture if you will, a brand of homo sapien that blindly trusted every newspaper he read, and believed every news item reported on radio and television. Honey, pass the Prozac and Zoloft please. No wonder alcohol is popular. Your 24 hour cable news networks are hard at work dumbing us down. The 24/7 news networks need to put a lid on it and back off. The paranoia fluff is insulting. That is, the hunt by the news golphers to invent or bend the corners of actual situations to fill twenty-four hours on their government run news stations. Human rights inquiries? Go get bent. Why bring it up. That's the last thing on our minds. To make a positive change without, we must first change within.

With the arrival of the new millineum, I noticed that there were more than a few spaced-out-water-heads that thought the Y2K bug was going to be the end of us all. They missed the target by a mile. Sure there was a few man-made power outages, and some banks had difficulties keeping and registering the capital exchange coming in, going out with the transfer being done over the internet. So what. It wasn't the end of the world.

What about the wave of small web businesses springing up all around the country eager to sell you, for a nominal fee, a "survival package" consisting of freeze-dried goods, batteries, toilet paper, flashlights, maps, radios, etc. So where's the Playboy Magazines? Lord knows those have to be included just to make things interesting. Most of the would-be-doom-predictors seem to be individuals who have invested major capital toward the so-called End of the World.

These are the perpetrators that are trying to sell us these watered-down survivor packages -- with no Playboy or Penthouse magazines included. Lord help us should we consider having sex while eating a stale granola bar. I suppose Viagra's off of the list too. And what are we supposed to do with the batteries? Paranoia makes a great selling point. Do these lounge lizard entrepreneurs actually care about my survival? Hell no. They're just trying to trick me into being so maniacally paranoid, I'll eagerly buy their stupid products so they can buffer their bank accounts to purchase land in big sky Montana.

Should the end of the world happen, wouldn't it be something like our idiot President choking on a pretzel and tripping, falling on the launch button? Or a meteor the size of Long Island hitting the Earth or even a Tsunami? If these were the cases, there would be nothing left to have or nothing left to lose. Now, with 2005 in action, we can see there is always life. So why spend money on a survival package that's only good for a week? Even after all computers and power plants and banks were supposed to have blown up or shut down. So what happened? Nothing. We're still here and disfunctionally insane as ever.

Let's face it: We're doomed. One way or another, sooner or later, there's going to be some natural catastrophy that will bring the natural order of things slamming to a screeching halt. If you've studied the geographical history of Mother Earth, she is as unstable as pit bull in an apartment building. With that said, why the rush from self-proclaimed prophits and radio personalities to be the first on the block to make nonsensical predications of naturally occouring phenomena? Prophit for profit?

Why are children starving to death? Why is George W. Bush our President? I asked — why the hell is George W. Bush our President? That's why people go insane. That's why we need more bridges built to jump off of.

Here's my official Out There Graphics prediction — and hey . . . it's FREE!: Sometime between today and 500 Billion years from now, our Sun will red dwarf and nova all over the place, and our Solar System, all planets included, will be reduced to less than a dirty sock. In other words: Our Sun with burn out and then explode. Blow up. Expand on fire at a high rate of speed. Wow man . . . deep, ain't it? But this is what's important: Our function as humans is to advance technology and have our human kiesters relocated on a new m-class (Earthlike) planet in another solar system and watching our Sun explode on a high-definition widescreen jumbo-tron.

It's the Noah's Arc theroy come to life. Oh yeah . . . there will always be the usual earthquakes and occasional floods, so please sign up for a "Disaster Oriented Preparedness Experience" or D.O.P.E. study class. So in case you look up and see a meteor or satellite streaking down towards you, you'll know without a doubt you're going to take it in the shorts. However, if it makes you feel any better, carry an umbrella or do a weird dance or something before you're pancaked into eternity.

Until that time, I got two words for you: National Insecurity. It's a new age of slack-jawed political fundamentalists attempting to sell us with whacky, paranoia-laden, fun-time themes for all to deal with while we're working hard to maintain an honest, decent way of life for ourselves and our family. Borrow and spend, borrow and spend, etc.

Question: Why should I have to be forced to unconciously to think about terrorism?
Answer: Because the George W. Bush administration is allowed TV time every freakin' day, spouting the same mind controling terrorism catch-phrase bull-hockey, day in and day out on an hourly basis, while Dubya unknowingly re-defines the meaning of Jack-Ass, that's why.

"Honey, whatcha making for dinner tonight? (TERRORISM) Meat Loaf? (TERRORISM) Mmmmmm . . . that sounds great! Love you!" (TERRORISM)

I'm not buying into this goverment packaged propaganda campaign on terrorism. The word terrorist, is the same stereotypical discription as calling somebody a drug-addict. Like calling our President a Jack-Ass, but that's the exception to the rule. Our local and federal governments waste millions of tax payer's money in attemps to fix the effects, but not the cause, so they can line their wallets for their annual European Vacations.

Jack W. Ass, bring our soldiers home for Christ's sake, and stop your power-hungry, money-driven nonsense. Please?

GUARANTEED NOT TO CAUSE ETERNAL TORMENT IN THE PLACE WHERE THE GUY WITH THE HORNS AND THE POINTED STICK CONDUCTS HIS BUSINESS — Frank Zappa

THE TRAILER HEATHENS — DEAD OR ALIVE?
The Trailer Heathens is what started this web site in the first place. Since the conception of Out There Graphics©, the graphic load has shifted in many directions. Unfortunately, the Heathens have been down on the list of things to do in the last year. I have received many inquiries on the status of The Trailer Heathens, along with possible story lines and alternate characters. This demonstrates an audience for The Trailer Heathens and in the next few months, an effort will go in the Heathen's direction including guest appearances and character refinements.