Ron Ruelle – Ron Ruelle Blogcasting System

Goodbye, My Clompy Stompy Neighbor

My upstairs neighbor moved out today. I call him “neighbor” in that I never got to know him aside from mumbling “hey neighbor” when passing him on the staircase as I hauled my groceries up to my second-floor apartment.

I did get to know him fairly well in a sense as he walked around his apartment a lot. More like paced. LOUDLY. “There goes my neighbor, ol’ Clobberstompy, pacing from the bedroom to the kitchen and back over and over again like a sad lion roaming the perimeter of his pen at the zoo. A sad nocturnal lion.” Like the dude was up ALL NIGHT wearing shoes made of concrete walking rapidly back and forth in his third-floor cage. Right. Above. Me.

He would get up at quarter to six most mornings and begin the routine again, which also included what sounded like tossing cinderblocks around. But sort of quietly tossing them. Like just loud enough to go along with the stompage, and in a pattern that suggested he maybe had a free weight gym in the living room. The thing is, he wasn’t some big dude, looked to be late 20s, under 6 feet, well under 200 pounds.

Maybe he was into reps more than big gains.

I got to know my downstairs neighbor just a bit before she moved out several months ago. Like actually knew her name, except I am SO BAD at remembering names that it got embarrassing. She asked me to watch her front door for packages when she went on a trip once, signaling that she also likely didn’t know any of the transient types who move in and out of an apartment complex located near a college campus.

It’s equal parts sad and relieving to not have to know anyone around you in any important way.

“You don’t hear me walking to the bathroom eight or nine times a night?” I asked her once. Note to self: I really should get my prostate checked.

“Once in a while, no big deal,” she responded. So it is possible to move about sort of stealthily in my building.

So back to Stompy McClomperson on the third floor… How someone who is not-huge could make so much noise walking around is beyond me. And where did he get the energy to pace around like that all night?

One morning I found a present on my balcony. It looked like the barrel of a cheap dart minus the plastic feathers. But upon closer inspection, it was a brass cocaine spoon. (Note: I only know what this looks like because I watched Breaking Bad and Better Call Saul.) Occam’s Razor (which is not a piece of drug paraphernalia) suggests it fell from his balcony, through the spaces between the slats, and onto mine. I found another one a few months later. And ANOTHER a few months after that

Also, after his workout routine, the guy used to do early morning bong rips on his balcony directly above mine. Gurgle gurgle! And then he’d cough up a lung. Dude, have you ever heard of edibles? And you’re doing that first thing in the morning? How wired are you? Wired enough to clobberstomp around all night, I guess.

Between the coughing and the spoons, he was the least discreet druggie ever.

So the last couple of days have been extra stompy with lots of reps of things being loudly placed in the living room and kitchen near the front door. This morning I heard the sound of hand trucks clunking down the stairs and figured out the extra noise was Stompity Clompmeister moving things down to a truck. It was extra louder than usual, but it meant the end. I almost offered to help.

Instead, I danced a happy jig in my living room upon figuring this all out. I hope the new downstairs neighbors didn’t mind.

Postmodern Postmortem: “Waffles and Beer” by Ron Ruelle

An exciting new art retrospective has opened at the Museum of Ron’s Basement, called “The Acrylic Art School Images of Ron Ruelle.” Today we will focus in depth on his signature piece from the “Painting and Mimosas” phase of his career, Waffles and Beer as seen below:

This is believed to be the only copy in existence of this painting, though other interlopers have attempted to recreate it, retroactively and proactively. To say whether any other version is better is a moot point. This is the one and only version done by Ron.

Overall, this is a tremendous departure for an artist primarily known for his cartoon work. Generally speaking, Ruelle has traditionally utilized black lines to separate areas of color in his art, as well as clear areas containing words that represent “spoken” utterances from the characters (or in some cases, objects) in the art. polar bear eating ice cream in snow

None of these techniques were used in Waffles and Beer, with the artist bravely reaching outside his comfort zone (or area of competence) by even attempting such a piece.

The sheer size of the piece, 457.2 by 609.6 (mm), is a theme borrowed from his comics era, in which original art has been created at such large sizes but ultimately intended to be viewed from great distances such as to minimize flaws. An earlier phase that began in the early 1990s reversed this trend by rendering small comics in very large, blurry, sketchy lines that magnified the flaws; even with mixed reviews, art from the “very large, blurry, sketchy lines that magnified the flaws” phase of his career can sell for large sums. Observe how the piece looks when viewed from farther away:

waffles and beer

The necessity to shrink the art or see it from a distance is a technique that has been used throughout history to help viewers better understand art. One is reminded of “The Mystery of the Shrinking House,” a fictional adventure featuring Alfred Hitchcock and the Three Investigators (or more controversially, Hector Sebastian, a name Hitchcock apparently used when he wished to disown his works.) A look at the cover of this book at normal size reveals little. However, shrinking it down, and in turn, shrinking the house even further sheds new light on the story, as the red and white awning on the house becomes increasingly obvious with the shrinkage. Observe this book cover at two different sizes:

three investigators

As the awning on the house becomes the only distinguishing feature, it’s apparent that a sideways chunk of the awning is the clue that holds the secret to a hidden art masterpiece. An article about a piece of art that needs to be shrunk to be appreciated, contains a reference to a book with a cover that needs to be shrunk to appreciate a hidden piece of art.

By the way, SPOILER ALERT!!!! THE PREVIOUS TWO PARAGRAPHS CONTAIN THEM. NEXT TIME, I WILL WARN YOU IN ADVANCE. MY APOLOGIES, ALTHOUGH IT’S LIKE A 40 YEAR-OLD BOOK, SO YOU SHOULD HAVE READ IT BY NOW. I CAN’T AVOID THE INTERNET FOR YOU!

I also apologize for yelling in the spoiler alert. It’s hard to take back what I said and how I said it, because it’s hard to uncapitalize something once you’ve read it.

As for “Waffles and Beer,” this piece jumps off the controversy bridge with its name, as the original inspiration for the beverage in the painting was orange juice, or possibly a mimosa, but the title of the painting suggests it was changed to beer at some point. Observe the hyperrealistic bubbles, not seen in orange juice, possibly seen in a mimosa. beer or orange juice The painting also goes off the perspective rails at first glance with the giant, hovering fork and knife, which suggest they are at great height, unable to cast a shadow over what must be a very large waffle. fork and berries Also, the details buy a ticket on the hindsight train, with the berries seeming like they should be bigger, unless they are the size of, say, large dogs, and the waffles are the size of a house, if that house were not shrinking like the one on the book cover.. waffle and berries

Things also spin off course from the textural merry-go-round when looking at the golden flakiness of the waffles… will syrup be added, or would a pat of butter, some powdery white substance, and cow-sized fruit be enough to make this an important part of your nutritious breakfast? If you look closer.. waffle and berries

Closer… waffle and berries

Too close! waffle and berries

Then, the artist’s good manners leap off the judgment pier when it becomes clear that he is already eating, but has not placed the napkin on his lap. napkin

Finally, the reader is run over by metaphorical bumper cars, by the simple question: Do the waffles and beer signal a literal desire to have waffles and beer for breakfast, or something deeper, such as the desire to consume these delicacies for a later meal such as lunch, dinner, or even tomorrow’s breakfast?

The artist leaves that interpretation to you, as he has reached his total required word count and wishes to be left alone with his late night snack of beer and waffles.

Cheer Up! Lots of People Didn’t Die in 2016 !

Everyone keeps referring to 2016 as the dumpster fire that never quit burning. It seemed like every few days someone who made a brilliant mark on this world died. But it wasn’t all bad… here are some folks who didn’t die in 2016 . (I waited until 12:01 AM, January 1 to post it just to make sure no one on the list died at the last minute.)