http://www.timtekindustries.com/2008/07/15/more-hard-hitting-current-affairs/

So, Interzone had a formal day the other day. Many photos were taken, not least of them this one, of the Interzone GUI Team:



As this image was passed around the office, it was remarked that it looked remarkably like a cast-shot from a hardcore Australian legal drama. "GUI Legal!" Ellen shrieked, demanding that character roles be written immediately. "Legal drama! Hah!" I snorted, raising my fingers to the keyboard. "More like a low-budget inner-city cop show. More like..."

Interzone City. It’s a tough place. Hell, it’s a shit-hole. And to police a tough place, you need the toughest. You need the roughest. You need GUI Metro.

Detective Darren “Motherfucker” Yeow: Trained from an early age in the ways of drinking, smoking, and drinking while smoking, Darren worked his quickly through the ranks. His unprecedented combination of bribery and violence became the first of many multitasking skills that would later turn him into one of Interzone City’s finest. When the chips are down, Darren shoots first, shoots some more and never stops to ask any motherfucking questions because if anybody in this stinkhole of a city knows where the bodies are kept it’s him, and that’s probably because he left them there. Darren’s noble heart hangs heavy with justice, and even heavier with cigarette tar.

Constable Tone “Rookie” Prior: Fresh-faced recruit from the Academy, Tone showed up on the doorstep with a bag full of optimism and a bullneck that resisted even the best efforts of a enraged “Choker” Hawkins. His sunny disposition has crowbarred open the corpse-piled windows of the GUI Metro offices, with his Fresh Fruit Fridays and Tuesday Book Clubs earning him drunken abuse, if not outright approval. On the job Tone is alert and inquisitive, always ready to hand out a pamphlet or offer advice on removing a stubborn bloodstain.

Senior-Sergeant Andy “Choker” Hawkins: Nobody knows how long the hard-bitten Hawkins has been slugging it out in the trenches of Interzone City, but everyone in GUI Metro knows that when the shit hits the fan, they can always rely on Andy to choke until he can’t choke no more. When he’s not on duty, Andy stalks the dirty city streets, chewing on handfuls of bullets and muttering quietly to himself until the dawn breaks through the smog, glinting off of his bristling stubble. Then it’s time to head back to the office, rip a half-empty whisky bottle out of Darren’s slumbering grasp and count the minutes until he can once more clamp his iron grip around the soft, pasty-white neck of crime.

Constable Richard “Grinner” Kong: Quick with a smile and even quicker with a switchblade, Grinner hides his mysterious past behind an unflappable set of perfectly polished teeth. Supposedly expelled from the Academy, he was saved at the last minute by Darren “Motherfucker” Yeow, who took him under his cigarette-stained wing and made him his constant, smiling shadow. Nobody knows what possessed Darren to put his neck out, and Richard isn’t talking – except with his knife.

Doctor Cameron “Cameron” Royal: The youngest graduate in history from the Bonesaw Institute of Medical Adequacy, “Cameron” is a reclusive genius who claims the morgue as his own. Able to dissect a frog at fifty paces, Cameron’s medical discoveries have saved the detectives at GUI Metro hours of painful criminal beatings, and saved a comatose Darren from alcohol poisoning on more than one occasion. Rumour has it he sleeps in a body bag, though the last person to try to check on a slumbering Cameron quickly found themselves on the receiving end of experimental neck-reduction surgery. If Cameron isn’t at work – he’s probably dead.

Lieutenant Benjamin “Kneecaps” Hammersley: With his no-nonsense haircut and quiet economy of movement, you’d often be forgiven for thinking “Kneecaps” Hammersley was more interested in sipping his bubble tea than ramming a screwdriver clean through the soft knee cartilage of crime. There are lines that even the hard-drinking men and women at GUI Metro can’t bring themselves to cross. But sometimes, crime needs to pay. Sometimes, crime needs to learn a lesson. Sometimes, crime needs to be crippled and paralysed, lying whimpering in an alleyway as it is brutally beaten with a tyre iron, and then fed alive to squealing bloodthirsty pigs. And when that time is now, Benjamin is the man you turn to.

GUI Metro. Tough cops for a tough town.

9:30 Thursdays.

Some stuff I drew at work.



I wish I could put up the stuff I'm making at work. I'm really happy with it. It's all vector art, but I love it all the same. Still, you'll see it all someday.



Whatup Australia

http://www.timtekindustries.com/2008/02/01/let-sleeping-blogs-lie/

Complacency steals over me, a soft blanket made entirely of the dust of good intentions. I sleep under its warming cover, happy in my filth, and enjoying the quiet satisfaction of my own fulfillment. And why shouldn't I? As I move in with a beautiful woman, as I work hard at my new job - what would I have to talk about? What would I even say? I smack my lips unconsciously and roll over, for my sleep is long and deep and happy. There's nothing to vent about anymore - no ire to bestow, no bellyfire to awaken the fingers and entangle the keyboard.

And yet - something stirs.

Someone approaches. Someone... someone calls.

Subject: CAD
Date: Tue, 29 Jan 2008 23:29:23 -0800 (PST)
From: Ian Moldovan [vampdow@yahoo.com]
To: Tim Colwill [tim@timtekindustries.com]

I just stumbled upon a page of yours where you talk about Tim Buckley's Ctrl-Alt-Del and calling it sexist and insulting. I just want to say that you could not be more wrong. If you actually knew what Lucas was thinking at that time, then you would understand why he was saying the things he was saying. And I agree with many of the things he said there, and I am a complete and utter feminist. So please, in the future, do a little research and get a brain before doing this sort of thing.

Subject: RE: CAD
Date: Sat, 02 Feb 2008 00:25:52 +0900
From: Tim Colwill [tim@timtekindustries.com]
To: Ian Moldovan [vampdow@yahoo.com]

Dear Ian,

Thank you for your prompt response to my comic posted on the internet ten months ago. I am writing to you today to humbly beg your personal forgiveness.

When I placed that comic onto the internet, I was not aware that you were in close direct and personal contact with the fictional character of Lucas Davidowicz. I had no way of knowing that somewhere out there was a person who actually knew what Mr. Davidowicz was thinking better than I did. I deeply and sincerely apologise for misinterpreting Mr. Davidowicz's actions and motivations. I hope that in the future I will not be so arrogant as to presume that I am able to comprehend the thoughts of a fictional character on a deeper level than another reader.

I know now that because my opinion and interpretation is different from yours, that I must have been wrong. I accept that, and I have taken it to heart. I would count it as a personal favour if you would continue to email me with your turgid and ill-thought out opinions, that I may take them on board and call them my own. It would be a huge honour to receive this level of moral guidance from you, sir.

It is my deepest hope and wish that in the future I will be able to understand gender issues and relationships on the deep and complex level that you clearly do. Your agreement and support of an idea is the most important thing to me, and I promise to you now that I will spend the rest of my days in ceaseless pursuit of your approval. It is clear to me that because you agree with something, it must be right, and any thoughts to the contrary are deviant and inexcusable. I accept this, and I hope that with your help I can work to become a better person, and a better feminist.

I also promise to you now that I will endeavour to research issues more thoroughly before commenting on them. My comic, which expressed my thoughts in detail and with illustrated examples, was clearly a knee-jerk reaction. I accept that the fact that I have been closely following CAD for several years means nothing to you, and I am working to change that. In the future I will prepare several chapters worth of background material and submit it to you in triplicate with a standard lead time of fourteen (14) working days for your vetting.

I hope that you will forgive me, and work with me in the future to help me improve. Perhaps with time, I too can reach the staggering levels of ignorance, arrogance and terrifying naiveté that you display.

Your fan,
Tim Colwill

FUCK

I WAS WORKING ON THE GIANT ROBOT CARD FOR LIKE FOUR HOURS

I'D PRETTY MUCH INKED MOST OF IT AND I WAS REALLY HAPPY WITH IT IT TOOK ME FOREVER TO GET SOME OF THE CURVES RIGHT

THERE WAS A POWER SURGE AND MY COMPUTER SHUT DOWN

"THAT'S OKAY", I THOUGHT, "I SAVED IT AGES AGO. I'LL JUST GO TO BED."

SO I TRIED TO OPEN IT THE NEXT DAY

UNEXPECTED END OF FILE ERROR WHAT THE FUCK ASS BALLS ARRGGHHGHGHHARGOUHAWHUSFUHASODVUHNAS

SO I THOUGHT I'D TRY THIS PROGRAM CALLED ADVANCED PSD REPAIR TO SEE IF IT COULD RECOVER MY PICTURE OR MAYBE JUST A LAYER OR SOMETHING OH GOD ANYTHING

OH IT RECOVERED A PICTURE ALRIGHT

A PICTURE THAT LOOKS BIT LIKE THIS



AARRGH WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SHIT

WHERE IS MY PICTURE YOU PIECE OF SHIT ARRRGH

ALL I HAVE TO GO ON IS THE WIP I POSTED HERE

IF I HADN'T POSTED THAT I'D HAVE LOST THE WHOLE FUCKING THING

AS IT IS I JUST HAVE TO START FROM SLIGHTLY ABOVE SCRATCH

TALKING IN ALL CAPS BECAUSE I'M FUCKING ANGRY

FUCK

I SURE DO SWEAR A LOT

Hmm, what could he be up to?

Well, it's been a while, hasn't it. I'll make a post on my journal-proper soon, but suffice to say my life has changed incredibly, for the better, and.. I'm happy. I'm really, truly happy.

Anyway, have some Team Fortress 2 related arts!

For a while I been needing a spray, while I be bustin' chops in TF2. Since I play under the name The Great Unwashed, and love Engineer the best, it only made sense to make this:



And here it is in the game:



Also, it's caught my attention that people on the internet have been trying to make up female versions of the TF2 classes. And most of these have turned out as freako, punk/goth/steampunk looking weirdoes with abnormally revealing clothing in the breast area and a penchant for stupid amounts of unplayable detail. Never mind that TF2 is set in the goddamn 50's when the ideal woman was one who covered herself from neck to ankle and was busy making dinner when she wasn't popping out babies. It pisses me off more than I can describe that people seem to be criminally unable to recognise this point, and it's not only possible, but desirable, that any female versions of the 9 classes look like they'd actually fit in in the TF2 setting and not look like some sort of computer nerd's wet dream. Plus of course they need to fit in with TF2's mantra of quick visual identification and distinctive silhouettes.

With that in mind, I'm going to be trying to work up some actual reasonable female TF2 characters over the coming weeks. First up I did a few quick sketches of the Heavy, sans-gatling gun:



Colour coming later, but I'm picturing a good old-fashioned Valkyrie lady, with bosoms you could beat a whale to death with and jowels that quiver with rage at the incompetence of her cowardly enemies.

Some shizzle I dizzled is up on the Perthcomics Communizzle if you're interested in that sort of thang.

I am going on a cartoon dog bender apparently?

This one's for a lady

I'm colouring things slightly differently. It took a bit longer, but I think it looks a bit nicer.

Here are some drawings that I have done while at work! DELIGHT!

First some things that make no sense.



Now some more random sketches for Spitfires and Six-Shooters!

Here is Duke Marmalade again. I can't quite get his body right but I like this one a lot. And here is also an asteroid with a lighthouse on it. I don't know who lives there yet but I'm sure they'll get up to some wacky, wacky hijinx!



And here are some like... sketches! Robot Hitler, Old Bert Gumption, some planes, the as-yet-unnamed mechanic, who knows! The Shadow knows.

Duke Marmalade is one of the main characters in Spitfires and Six-Shooters. He has a bionic leg, a furious moustache and is a damn good pilot.

He also smokes a pipe full of cigarettes.

Done in an hour on and off in Photoshop. I don't like it that much, but practice etc.

http://www.timtekindustries.com/2007/10/05/a-review-four-years-too-late/

A month or so ago, I had a series of interviews with Interzone Games for the position of World Designer. I didn't get the job, unfortunately - but during the course of the interviews, I was asked to write up my thoughts on the early game experiences of some MMO's that I had played. Only really having any substantial experience in City of Villains, and having played enough (read: ten minutes) of Ultima Online to establish that doing something so crazy as walking outside of town was a medically bad idea, I figured I may as well get the fuck over myself and sink my teeth into a trial edition of World of Warcraft. So I teamed up with the beautiful and delightful Jess, to explore the lands of Kalimdor and/or Lordaeron for the princely number of 14 days. ( And here is the result. )

http://www.timtekindustries.com/2007/10/04/now-with-more-fried/

Hello lovelies. I've just whacked together a new layout for Refried. I'd love to know what you all think, as the previous layout I basically threw together in five minutes. Blindfolded.

While being attacked by bears.

Anyway, take a look.

http://www.timtekindustries.com/2007/09/28/how-i-stopped-fighting-and-learned-to-love-city-hall/

Back in 2005, when I was working at Coles Express, it was required that I wore a badge. But not just for identification purposes, no. Coles Express takes the wonderful opportunity to use my name as a ledge for the purposes of which to hang advertising. Fuel discounts, Fly Buys specials, there is nothing which the Company feels is too ostentatious to decorate your body with. But I had enough. I fought back. I wore this:



As you can imagine, the Company found this distasteful in the extreme. Not so the Customers, who laughed uproariously and thanked me for bringing joy to their small, insignificant and carbon-based lives. But alas, the Company was Always Right, and the badge was removed. Fast forward to 2007, and anybody fortunate enough to receive an email from one Tim Colwill could expect to find the following buried at the end of their email in tiny, tiny text:

Unencrypted electronic mail may not be secure and may not be authentic. This is the sum of most large tracts of small text that follow most business-related emails. As such, this large tract of small text is not likely to be read by most users and will be skipped over for a belief that it contains no new or relevant information. If you have received this email in error, please inform me by return email with the subject line "The Sparrow Chirps At Midnight". A man will contact you by the usual method and provide you with further instructions. After these instructions have been carried out, destroy your computer by ejecting it from a fourth-storey window onto a large pile of unstable explosives. Wearing of this garment does not enable you to fly.

http://refried.timtekindustries.com/index.php?comicID=66



Cha-ching.

http://www.timtekindustries.com/2007/09/20/bilious-bilious-and-vile/

Have you ever noticed that nearly half the Mortal Kombat characters were created simply by changing the colour of the costume of an existing character? No? Well, there you go.

Man, blogging! Who does that these days? It's so passe. Anyway.

A little while back now, the Chaser team mixed a little fake motorcade together with some terribly, terribly fake security passes and a third pair of testicles, stuck a little Canadian flag on top and drove the whole crazy cake through the supposedly impenetrable $160 million security surrounding the 2007 Sydney APEC Summit. Understandably, this upset a few people - not to mention the boys themselves, who never expected to get past the gates.

After all, they were wearing Insecurity Passes with the word "JOKE" written on them in giant letters, and they were up against the biggest lockdown the nation's most populous city had ever experienced. A lockdown that apparently equates a motorcade of black SUV's with importance, but that's neither here nor there. No, my friends, the real outrage facing the nation today, the real scandal here is not that $160 million dollars of taxpayer-funded extraordinary, draconian security measures failed to stop a team of 11 comedians - one of whom was dressed as Osama bin Laden - the real scandal is that these filthy, disgusting, and above all leftist fucks are laughing at terrorism, spitting on the grave of everyone who's ever lost their life in a terrorist attack, and they're doing it on my goddamn taxpayer money.

Or so Gerard Henderson tells me.

Gerard's article is a real scroll-wheel turner, and basically only because it's the most delightfully biased piece of opinionated trash I've heard since the last time I recorded myself trying to quantify the exact level of shit present in a single Ctrl+Alt+Del comic. Gerard's main point is this little gem: It is not okay to make fun of terrorism because people have died from terrorism - a wonderful line right up there with other clinically small-minded arguments like "Burning the flag should be outlawed because good people fought and died for that flag".

But not only is Gerard taking the time to come down from Moral Heights Luxury Apartment Blocks to tell us what is and isn't an appropriate subject for humour, he's also prepared a wonderful dissertation for us on how doing so was an abhorrent waste of taxpayer's money. Thanks Gerard! He is obviously the most qualified to know - as the Executive Director of the Sydney Institute and former Chief-of-Staff to John Howard, he knows only too well the peculiar tang of wasted taxpayer money hanging heavy in the acrid Sydney air.

Oh, Gerard! Your enlightening opinion pieces speak to me in the illuminating manner of a shaft of light from a musty tomb; the lid on the sarcophagus cracking to reveal the screeching generational values of a thousand years past. I can actually see the paper on which ink was wasted printing your article aging before my very eyes, crumbling into dust almost as fast as support for the Liberal party plummets in the opinion polls (See what I did there?).

"THIS IS NOT FUNNY, TERRORISM IS SERIOUS!" you wail, spewing your Chardonnay out onto your copy of The Financial Review as you prepare to host one of your high-powered lunches for the Prime Minister in your exclusive Sydney estates, with their high walls and their electronic security. How convenient that all those Algerians were able to die to remind you that terrorism is a real threat, and that we can never be too secure. And how convenient that you, a man who doubtless earned more writing that single piece of morally fossilised diatribe than I've earned in the past two months of working full time, has taken the time out to tell me how the average man should feel.

I tip my budget can of soft drink at you sir, from my worn hand-me-down chair in the splendour of this semi-rural unfashionable suburb - I can now vote for the Liberal government with complete peace of mind, knowing that this team of arrogant comedians has got the tongue-lashing they deserve. Having the temerity to tell others what is and is not funny, having the insufferable hubris to treat authority with anything but grave respect, these are the hallmarks of the subversive and the radical, my friends. We need to watch out for this sort of free thinking and crush it remorselessly under our boot-heels, lest the terrorists win and we become one of those horrible backward little Eastern countries I can't pronounce. With their highly religious governments, their crushing of free speech, their outrageously brutal anti-sedition laws, and their security measures which allow people to be held for obscenely long periods without trial for the most minor of offences.

That would be bad.

I'm really rusty. My concept art used to be much better.