Faking more stuff…

Another fake image of a little guy nuts about giant feet.
Another image of a man nuts about giant feet.

Years ago I decided to play a word game at my old blog. There were rules, and basically it amounted to using any excuse to write about giantesses and shrunken men.

I played it with another GDC blogger who goes by Little Squid around these parts, and I’d give him two words, daring him to use them to come up with an interesting group of paragraphs, a poem, anything that would include interaction between a little guy and a much larger woman.

After completing his entry he would give me two words, and dare me to use them, and so on. We went back and forth like that for a while, and it was fun while it lasted.

This fake newspaper article is something that came to me as I was trying to figure out how to use the words stanchion and febrile for the game. I lifted some online newspaper article sections and Firefox browser elements because I was too lazy to come up with every single pixel on my own. I changed link names, logos, dates, and whatever error I might have missed is there to stay, because I’m done with it.

It was great to imagine a world where little people use something I think is called “The Pipeline” as their own little Internet, because everything web-related has names connected with their little underground routes, sewer passage ways, grass-level roads, etc.

I closed my eyes and I could see those little computers that aren’t PC or Mac compatible, but use their own insignificant operating system called Vereda (“sidewalk” in Spanish), and bitty people sign on to get on the Pipeline via Speedroach, their browser of preference.

And here’s what I imagined shrunken folks would see if they looked up “giantess Corelia”- Oh, and I love those fake ad links next to the fake article. I saved them a long time ago when they were entries during a contest at Giantess.com, obviously about fake ads. The first one was created by Dharker Syde, and I can’t remember who did the second one. If anyone recalls who it was, please let me know so I can make mention of it.

Giantess Corelia Article

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6 thoughts on “Faking more stuff…

  1. There’s something about that image that has me frozen in my seat. It’s not just a foot shot, it’s an elegant foot with slender toes in gorgeous sandals, peeking out from a glamorous, dazzling gown. An elegant woman’s dress is a showcase of various elements, but this image zooms in on one that has been no less intentionally designed than the rest of it but often overlooked.

    Except for that specialist photographer. He’s there to pick up the slack, to redirect the eye where it has missed something, to fill up the empty spaces. I wonder what the world looks like from his camera. It’s not the same as placing a webcam or a GoPro on the ground. The physics of that little chamber with tiny lenses refracting into it create an entirely different image, one that a widescreen fish-eye lens only hints at crudely. But he’s got the best equipment, and all evening long he avoids the trample of more practical footgear behind him, watching glossy Oxfords sail past, and rushes in to focus on the dainty bare paws of women actors, their manicures, the shoes that barely contain them. The only thing more exciting than feeling their sheer power tear the air apart and pummel into the ground would be that moment when a giantess deigns to acknowledge him and gracefully, graciously extend her extremity to a respectful, intentional distance before him. That moment she concedes the game and condescends to play along, accurately sussing half an idea of what it could mean to him and his readers.

    It’s awful that this pictured giantess happened to be ill-tempered and hypocritical, but no one said it was a perfect world.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Memories… I spent so much time on that fake news webpage. Hours and hours of gleeful fun. I’ve often fantasized about creating a fake magazine cover about shrunken men, all sexy and glossy, but it’s an awful lot of work. Maybe the next time I get strep throat.

      You paint that night’s events quite vividly. I very much enjoyed your view. And yes, I agree. His photographs would have an entirely new feel to them, which only adds to his innate skill as a photographer. But he only works with what he loves, and the knowledge of that workmanship precedes him.

      Maybe that’s why she targets him as her victim when she snaps. He’s not the reason she’s angry, but he pays for it meaninglessly. He was not a perfect man, and did not deserve that fate, or the light sentence she received. She was in prison for twelve minutes, I think.

      (I actually remember Very Short Sentences for crimes committed against tinies amused the hell out of me that day. I was in a peculiar frame of mind, and there had been something in my life happening regarding feet, some undue online request, or something… I can’t quite recall… which provoked me to “retaliate” in this manner.)

      Liked by 1 person

      • I can see some stodgy (if diminutive), time-in-grade newspaper editor retiring to his office with a pipe and a brandy (a very deftly fashioned meerschaum that overheats rapidly, but a dram that lasts all evening), taking himself very seriously as he pens “The Measure of a Man’s Worth,” a commentary upon the travesty of justice, which he cannot predict in the fog of his self-importance that he’s only painting a full-bodied target upon his own back for derision and mockery.

        And I appreciate the backstory to this article! That does put on a different spin, color the actor with more humanity. I’m sure, soon after, she deeply regretted her draconian lashing-out. Poring over his portfolio, looking at her own feet with new eyes, wondering…

        Liked by 1 person

        • Mmm… brandy.

          But you see, that is his destiny. To give sport to ridicule and laughter, only to be recognized for the genius he truly was, after his death. His tome will be regarded as the spark that ignites a new awareness of the value of a small life, a new force to defend it to the last consequence, and a new respect for the presence of those tiny people. Just wait and see.

          She might have regretted it, but perhaps not for the right reasons. She never really worked again, not on anything significant. Her career plummeted to the lowest depths, and she finally left the scene. I think she was last seen window washing buildings somewhere in Utah. Her portfolio is the only possession she keeps on herself at all times, aside from that tanker full of vodka.

          Liked by 1 person

          • Two men walking through downtown SLC. They hear a squeaking/wiping noise and look up.
            “Is that… no…”
            “OMG! That’s Corelia! It is!”
            “What’s she wearing? That’s not very hot.”
            “Are you kidding? Look at those work boots!”
            “That’s what I’m saying. You can’t even see her toes or anything.”
            “Yeah, but she could still step on us! Can you imagine? Hey, Corelia! Giantess Corelia!”
            “Dude, you are into some weird shit.”

            Liked by 1 person

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