Goddammit. Stan Winston is dead.

This guy scared the willies out of me in so many ways, at so many times. He was at the very peak of monster making, between the stop motion stuff that we loved and forgave despite its awkwardness and the CGI blowouts that make modern spectaculars so ho hum (when anything is possible, then everything becomes mundane…). He ranks with Ray Harryhausen, Willis O’Brien, Rick Baker and Jim Henson as one of the greatest exponents of visual suspension of disbelief I’ve ever experienced. His honour roll is mind-boggling: Iron Man, Aliens, Constantine, Predator, Leviathan, and on and on and on. If you’re an SF/adventure movie lover, the full list will make you smile a smile of much goofyness.

If you’re not familiar with his work, Rob Hood has a fantastic gallery of images, as well as some of his own thoughts.

62. Too damn soon.


It never rains but it pours books, which is why you have to carry a heavy duty umbrella……

No sooner does my contributor copy of Aurealis 40 arrive in the mail than I come home from work last night to find that the Clarionite of Cool, Peter M Ball, in happiness at how much we loved his last mail-gift, has sent us another Etgar Keret volume, The Bus Driver Who Wanted to Be God and Other Stories. Luscious, in response to a conversation earlier in the day, has returned from the library with a Will Self book for me to sample (Dorian, for those who might be interested). And to top it all off, a big box marked ‘Harper Collins’ arrived, containing two contributor copies of Dreaming Again, ready for me to riffle through, sniff, and rub all over my naked body!

And lookie here: me with a day off work today 🙂