UNDERSEA AGENT - A 14 Piece Plastic Canvas Work

Each piece of the Undersea Agent Series is meant to both stand alone as well as fit into a larger narrative. The story created concerns a young sailor, shipwrecked and floating upon the mercy of the waves. As he descends into delerium, he imagines himself as a secret agent on a sub-aquatic mission of intrigue and danger. When viewed in order, these pieces tell that story. A handy slideshow has been added for your narrative enhancement.

Box of Fate Memorial Day Special featuring Bert Gatchalian's Custom Fat Ladies

In honor of all our dead, especially those that died for much less important things than war and the pursuit of defense. The totally sincere staging of these photographs features 4 of the 7 custom painted Fat Lady resin figures painted by Bert Gatchalian for the 2011 Box of Fate. I hope you enjoy these pics and the slideshow on your day off. Everyday is a holiday for the dead and they don't spend their time thinking about you. Do what I do- think about your dead people while at work.

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Check out Bert Gatchalian's airbrush skills on a variety of kaiju toys, as well as top-rate illustration and painting at his blog. His continued collaboration with the flavor scientists at Apocalypse Popsicle has proven to be beneficial, despite his diabolical designs on our patented secret recipe for "being nasty" but everybody's looking for that jive nowadays.







EXTRA CREDIT--


This cherub sits on the upper ledge of a 1945 Memorial for "Showfolks of America" -in other words, these graves belong to circus people. The surrounding graves are all dedicated or reserved for the deceased belonging to that diminishing, nomadic menagerie of artists, clairvoyants, and craftsmen. Stars of the Road Show and lowly carneys raising tents, selling tickets, all were now united in equality in the grave. It was beyond the pale and bizarre to think that here at this section of the graveyard, the show still goes on. They aren't buried with their families or in the Jewish section (for surely many were part of the diaspora of Euro-Judeo Gypsy tribes. Showfolk are beyond race. They are beyond equal.

Reserved now for future lion tamers' apprentices and trapeze artists who perform one too many times "without a net", the land was originally reserved in 1918 following a train wreck in Indiana where 86 clowns tragically died in one last skit of comically existential slapstick.
And that's no joke-
Great Circus Train Wreck of 1918

All right, full disclosure on the incident with the cherub at the Showfolks of America Memorial. I was going to end this "extra credit" section with the link to the train wreck site. But as I looked again at the pictures, I was struck by the twisted expression of the cherub's face.

I had already been in this particular graveyard for about 45 minutes as I began to take the first few shot with him in the frame. There had been no ill omens, like that time with the ants and the bat. Late in the afternoon and overcast all day, it had finally started to rain just as I arrived. I wouldn't have minded the rain, but then it cleared up and the sun came out, threatening to kill my sweet ambient light that had been the secret gift of the formerly overcast sky. By the time I got to the Showfolks Memorial, it was once again ideal. Overcast yet bright, the sun that eliminates the shadow.

So back to that disgruntled bastard stooping angrily up there- I'm sure you noticed his unique frilly clown collar. At first thinking this was part of the statue, I approached without hesitation and touched it. Soft and wet, a brighter color red on the inside indicating age and wear from the sun. There are two other flickr photos of this memorial- one from 2008 and the other from January 2009. Neither wear this collar. Also, it was a scrunchie.



I laughed. This is what amuses me- I would have done this same thing had I found a scrunchie on the grounds someplace. There were three types of people who could have done this scrunchie vandalism. It could have been a genuinely bereaved individual who thought this simple addition would bring joy to the circus-folk, whose lives were spent in selling mirth to the masses. Or it could have been a drunk person or listless teenager, which are combined into one possible suspect as they have the same motivations for public vandalism. The third person is someone like me. A moral and fair-minded individual, curious about the way humans view death yet blasphemous about it. A person who enjoys making anonymous public pranks that will be seen later by random people they may not even know. Someone who likes a good idea with a dash of devilish. Let me put it another way: this disrespectful act willfully desecrated the graves of clowns. People like me.

Having finished taking my pictures and depositing the toys back into the car, I re-approached the Showfolks Memorial to take some pictures of the shrine from all four sides. I thought to myself, 'Perhaps I should take that nasty old scrunchie off of that cherub and clean him up a bit.' I occassionally spend an hour or two in the afternoon in a nice graveyard just to reflect on life and jot stuff down in my notebook. However, I am not a goth These sojourns occur about once every two years when not forced into a graveyard for other, less desirable reasons.

Reaching out to grab the damp cloth, a chain on the flagpole just behind me rattled in the wind noticeably. I looked back up the pole, chasing the sound. There was no flag yet waving; it was Saturday on Memorial Day weekend and I'm sure they wanted to keep the flags nice for Sunday and the holiday. Thinking little more than that, I again took hold of the red material and gave a quick yank, up and towards me as to clear the chin.

As I pulled, a pincher beetle jumped out from beneath the scrunchie. The hair tie did not want to come easily and I'd have to really grip it. How many more pincher bugs might be nesting? While considering what to do with my hands, my attention was drawn to the statue's face. He was scowling at me. I could feel him glaring angrily at me with disgust. I ceased my effort to remove the scrunchie. He could be a real Showfolk "tiniest man alive" type of performer whose train-mangled corpse was used to make a concrete statue of an angel. I don't know, but I have some other theories as well.




All pictures here and many more are available at the Apocalypse Popsicle Flickr page-
http://www.flickr.com/photos/apocalypsepopsicle

BOX OF FATE 2011 PRE-ORDER NOW!

7 glorious Boxes!
SOLD OUT SOLD OUT SOLD OUT
$130 + $17 shipping US ($35 international)
SOLD OUT SOLD OUT SOLD OUT

Limit 1 Box per household. Twins that live together are allowed to buy only one box unless they can prove that they both have girlfriends/boyfriends and are planning on getting their own places. And stop dressing like each other, you're 35- it's creepy now.



Aqua Violet Pearl Old Toby

Featuring the new Judgment of the Snailfather Playset with the Snailfather figure being sculpted by the multi-talented Dustin Cantrell!

One Off Hotrod Frankensnail by Paul Kaiju! (as seen from the rear)

Here's the lowdown:

-- All 7 Boxes will contain toys and Plastic Canvas pieces.

-- One box will be a wicked sweet fine art box with mostly custom paints and Plastic Canvas pieces.

-- All 7 Boxes will contain a custom "Mr. Scratch, Soul Broker" figure painted by the incredible Dustin Cantrell

-- All 7 Boxes will contain a custom "Fat Lady" figure painted by that cool commander of color, Bert Gatchalian

-- All 7 Boxes will contain a Kirkland Jue of Toybotstudios Blog Custom.

-- This year roughly fifty percent of the 7 boxes will feature "Old Toby" Figures.

-- The other half will feature "Judgement of the Snailfather Playsets" - a 6 figure set

-- The "Judgement" Playset features the Snailfather demon, the first Apocalypse Popsicle figure carved by the crazy-talented Dustin Cantrell

-- Magnets. I know how they work. I have applied the Plastic Canvas techniques to the smaller scale.

-- One Off Custom Painted Figures by Paul Kaiju, Leecifer, & Super Secret Guests Randomly Distributed
(no guarantees you'll get a PK or Lee custom)

-- New Frankensnail Mori Katatsumuri Hotrod Version

Boxes are $130 plus shipping.

Holler at your ice cream man!
apocalypsepopsicle@gmail.com

Playtime with Dustin Cantrell's Anklyosaurus

Greetings fine specimens of dignity and taste! I was lucky enough to help Dustin Cantrell with the moldmaking for his awesomely detailed Anklyosaurus sculpt. Dustin is already well known as a smooth artist with the airgun. Once he started sculpting, it was obvious that these two talents should merge. The noble steeds of our infernal stable here at Apocalypse Popsicle Farms wish Dustin the greatest of success in what we're sure will prove to become a toy-making addiction for him. In fact, while we were just sitting around watching rubber cure, I tossed him a few choice snail skeletons and he went berserker on some clay on a new figure to be released in the Apocalypse Popsicle Box of Fate 2011 (pre-order this Friday). More of that later.

Here's a few pictures I took in my yard with the two early casts I got to keep. I poured the orange and green bi-color clear figure myself. In these photos, the two dinosaurs defend their nest, which is a real nest which was abandoned by the ground-nesting birds in my yard. The cat spooked them. And though I didn't let her out for another ten days, they did not return.












http://dustinsmonstershop.bigcartel.com/
Dustin has some awesomely painted Anklyosaurus figures painted up professionally on his big cartel page. Go get one!

The Pamphlet of Schnarfenfigelheim & Origin Story of the Fat Lady Crew

The Pamphlet of Schnarfenfigelheim is an apocryphal document drafted in the early 6th Century by an advisor to the line of Clovis, which would eventually become the Merovingian Dynasty of Frankish rule. King Theudebert, the grandson of Clovis who first led the Franks to Christianity, was not content to merely be another notch in the belt of the Roman Christian diaspora. Gathering his priests around him, he demanded prophecy, revelation, and strongly hinted that these wise men might include some mention of the inherent divine right of the Germanic peoples. Of all his sages, Theudebert valued the wisdom of the elder Schnarfenfigelheim most. It is in the Pamphlet of Schnarfenfigelheim that the traditional story of Genesis Book 1, Chapter 1 is re-written with a more in depth look at the denizens of Hell prior to the Fall of Lucifer and his host.
The toys I make in the Fat Lady Crew & The Brothers Tingle are inspired by characters from the Pamphlet.

For your consideration, the opening stanza of The Pamphlet of Schnarfenfigelheim:

"In the beginning, God created many curious and irrational things and no one was there to write them all down. In the very beginning, only one irrational thing existed and it was this thing that became the thing known as God. A nest-like vessel of incomprehensible will and creativity from whose bosom sprung the cosmos in all its dust-filled glory, the invention of time achieved in Its infancy, the compulsion to create self-creating creatures was inspired by the loneliness inherent to Its existence.

Carving as if from clay, the elements of perfection…"

The document goes on to describe the inter-connected nature of angels and demons. Angelic perfection was apparently achieved by removing negative personality aspects, while refining qualities deemed appealing. The absence of all negativity turned out to be quite boring, and the solution was to create near-perfect beings with just a tiny bit of morally questionable behavior or personality quirk. For instance, in creating an Angel that embodied rhythmic intensity and musical motion, it would be undesirable to remove all traces of moodiness or depression from the entity. Such a creature might make beautiful music for spring afternoons, but even God has rainy days.

So, some traces of “undesirable” qualities were needed in the angelic content in order to achieve certain other aspects of “pure” intent. The leftover bits and pieces of God’s magic clay were then thrown into Hell, which at this point in time resembled a large, mystical root cellar wherein the almighty kept his old and forgotten stuff. Within this dark and disused realm, these little balls of discontent gestated into what we would now call Demons. Bitter and malcontent, Hell was a place of abuse and ridicule. But at least it was home.

Things all started to change after the Great Rebellion and subsequent Fall of a large section of the Angelic Host. The story now should seem somewhat familiar. Watching the way God doted over those short-lived and foul-tempered humans, Lucifer and his halo-toting brethren grew weary of their roles as God’s servants and tried to take over the Frat House. Failing in their heavenly coup d’etat, God was reminded of his old hidey-hole and shoved those rebellious louts down into Hell. God liked to forget about what he had left down there.


(Melancholy Molly, the Fat Lady, Bad Baby Banana)

Once the Angels moved in, all the typical gentrification effects began to be felt. Suddenly the Natural Born Demons were second-class citizens pushed off of their home turf and on towards the less desirable parts of town. Sequestered in ghettos by the Angels, the NBDs were taxed, manipulated and oppressed. Some found favor as hatchet men and lackeys for the devils with wings. It was, in short, a most brutal colonialism.

The light seemed to grow ever dimmer for the foul and disgusting demons. Would they ever find a champion to rescue them from their oppression? Could a God dark enough in desire to create abominations in order to also create beauty possibly be merciful enough to see Its own responsibility? Indeed.

But it wouldn’t be until several hundred years after the Crucifixion. Having spent a bit of time getting a feel for the place after the Resurrection, Jesus decided heaven was badly in need of some social reform. Convincing the almighty of this proved to be quite a task, but the Prince of Peace was able to subdue the Wrath of the Father and a rehabilitation program for suitable demons was put into place. If a demon was deemed worthy of rehabilitation, he was to then be placed with a mentor being at a position with the inner bureaucracies of creation. The demon would then be put to use serving the larger clockwork of the system and could be monitored for possible further placement or marked as a failure and destined to return to Hell.


(The Brothers Tingle, Wayne Jr, Itchy, Peeper)

Chosen to review the parolees was a peculiar entity known as the Fat Lady. Created after the Fall, the Fat Lady was a demon plucked from Hell and put to God’s surgical knife in order to attach the essence of angelic strength to a fully formed demon’s soul. Intended as an intermediary figure that would run errands down to Hell for God, the Fat Lady held a privileged place in creation able to freely span the planes of existence between Hell, Earth, and Heaven. The Fallen Angels despised her and treated her poorly upon her visits. The NBDs saw her as the shooting star, the hometown kid making it big. Rising up from Hell, being changed by the Creator to become something better, something stronger. Her relationship with the NBD community seemed like a perfect fit for administering the NBD rehab program.


(Mr. Scratch, Soul Broker)

Keep your eyes peeled for two more additions to the toy line coming soon in the Box of Fate 2011.