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The Uber-friend Buzz: Ross Priddle

I spent a long time this morning on the FB profile of Ross Priddle—a long, LONG time.

You know when you see a train wreck and you just can’t look away?  It was something like that.  At first glance, I was experiencing a sort of mental hysteria at the rate of about 10 WTF’s per minute.  To the outside eye, Ross is an exhausting blur of abstract bits and bobs.  He’s the impossible and illegitimate love child of John Lennon and Walter Bishop. 

Dig a little deeper and you find that he is, in fact, the Mad Hatter of the visual art world.  He is an enigma of visual creativity.  The kind of enigma that starts an international movement—there are people studying the religion of Priddlism all over the world—right as I type. 

While I can’t confirm that he isn’t perpetually high, I can assure you that his mind runs off the beaten path with a sort of ping-pong precision.  His thoughts are usually unpredictably fun-loving and they come wrapped up in a tight little crusty contradiction.  I know, right?  I hope Mr. Spock never has to mind meld with Mr. Priddle.  It would spell certain d-o-o-m for the Vulcan mind.

Ross is one of those people who you would pay good money to spend 5 minutes in a room with—and he’s easy to find.  Go see his creative genius here, or just follow the Bob Dylan music to Alberta, look for the house that small children run past, and then loiter around outside.  Sooner or later, he’ll come out to lure you in with chocolate covered LSD and Jasmine Tea.

As it turns out, Ross Priddle fascinates me.  Not only does he maintain some 40+ blogs, he also single-handedly keeps the postal service in business with mail art and visual poetry—and pretties the entire industry up while he’s at it.  Before today, I had no idea that such an art existed.  There’s nothing like a little old-fashioned schoolin’ for a Friday morning. 

I’m on the path of Priddlism—my robe is in the mail. 

~uberscribbler

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The Uber-friend Buzz: Liane Carruthers

You might think that the Irish Leprechaun of lore is a withered old man who chases rainbows in gnarly buckled shoes—and you might be right.  But, let me tell you a little something about the Advertising Leprechaun—she has GREAT shoes and a healthy amount of Bieber-fever.

Liane Carruthers is no solitary creature.  And, might I add, there is nothing gnarly or withered about her.  As a matter of fact, Liane takes the GOLD in the Olympic events of smiling and plain ol’ gosh-dang cuteness—every year.  She is an energetic, infectious, and powerfully contagious woman who uses her powers for good.  Rarely seen angry, this sweet sprite-like Polkaroo chooses words like “miffed” to express her extreme displeasure and has the magical ability to spring-up from the shadows just when you need her the most—she can leap small buildings and balance herself endlessly on the points of her Jimmy Choos.    

This supermom and bargain-sniffing sleuth is everyone’s ideal BFF.  Sweet-tempered and sensitive with a generous trusting nature, she exploits the best of you.  Her doe-eyed innocence can camouflage her Leprechaun trickery—so tread cautiously.  She’s been known to be a fireball of mischief from time-to-time. (It’s always those smiley ones you have to watch out for.)  If it’s simply a vacation pal you’re after, Liane is always game for travelling to sunny destinations to get those “must have” beach-sand pedicures.  Special note to Mr. Clooney—it is purely coincidental that she happens to vacation in the same places as you.  Leprechauns don’t stalk.  It’s Irish law.

In her career, Liane is something of a media genius and has miles of experience in advertising and publishing to prove it.  She’s the ideal candidate for any media task you might have—big or small—and she’s also great at parties.  If you should have the opportunity to work with Liane in real life one day—as I have—take it. 

Just don’t rub her for luck.  She doesn’t always like that.

~uberscribbler

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The Uber-friend Buzz: Christopher Reilley

Did you know that poets don’t actually write with feathery quills anymore?  There goes the prose neighbourhood, right?  Truthfully, I don’t know much about poetry, nor do I appreciate it for the genuine and imaginative self-expression of the senses that it is.  Generally, I’m either in awe of poets or I mock them.

Christopher Reilley has grabbed my full attention of awe—mostly because he graduated from the Ringling Brothers Clown College in 1984—but also because he has a vividly wide repertoire of writing that is boundless, and also because he reads the encyclopaedia for fun.  In his writing, Reilley has something for everyone.  He’s eclectic, entertaining, family-oriented and refreshingly honest.  He doesn’t give “a big fat hairy damn about an awful lot of things,” especially your Facebook farm, fish, park or mafia.  Refreshing, right?

His poetry grabs you.  It punches you in the face—but only if he wants it to.  He is the Chuck Norris of the poetry world.  His words are woven with homage to a man who is a visionary of thought and who is rich in gifted expression.  His dedication as an author keeps him travelling a 300 mile radius around Boston for speaking engagements and readings—and of course he’s in demand.  Why wouldn’t he be?  He’s the author of “Grief Tattoos,” poems of rage and redemption, and also the up-coming e-book, “Slippery Friction,” a collection of erotic and love poems.  Join his FB fan page here and see what I’m talking about—or check out his blog here.

Not only is Reilley a talented writer, he’s also an illustrator, digital artist, print expert, gaming-geek, father, husband, and self-proclaimed BAD saxophone player—although I couldn’t find a YouTube channel with recordings to verify just how BAD he might be. 

After spending some time immersed in this poetry world of his, I was officially inspired to dabble anew.  Reilley, this one’s for you.

The Christopher Reilley Lim’rick

There once was a poet name Reilley,
Who embroiders his feelings not shyly.
He’s a goofball at heart,
An aficionado of art,
And his poems will make you all smiley.

 

Now you understand the whole mock-and-awe philosophy I have.  I’m mock—Reilley’s all awe.

~uberscribbler

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Are Facebook friends real friends? If so, what have you done for me lately?

I’ve spent a lot of time recently thinking about all 2,400+ of my FB friends—on my personal page.  Most of us know that “Facebook” friendship is not the same as “personal” friendships—although there may be a few that have come to believe that I should babysit their kids or loan them fifty bucks.  We live in a “digital” space more than a “people” space now, so it’s possible the lines are blurring—but just to be clear—I’m still not lending you fifty bucks.

This community of friends we’ve built is a sort of fellowship of like-minded artists.  Each of us is a bit like Frodo out on a solo journey with countless dangers—and yes, ring-wraiths and soap-deprived orcs are out there waiting for us.  You know who they are.  Together, we can form a powerful alliance.  What say you? 

I’m going to start posting about some of my “friends” in order to get to know the fellowship better.  It will be a short and sweet scoop of their professional and personal information—although no stalker-friendly personal information will be given.     

If you’d like to be featured, join me on FB and send me a note, or join the discussion on the Uberscribbler fan page wall by posting the words “do me”—just because I’m immature that way.  C’mon, don’t be coy.  You know you want the exposure.  A few more eyeballs on your work couldn’t hurt.  It may not be five minutes of fame—but five minutes of fun is worth it, isn’t it?  What’s the catch you ask?  I’m going to write it.  Don’t send me a stuffy, professional prepared bio.  Nobody wants to read that—especially me, and I won’t post it.  I’ll get everything I need from your FB profile—I promise to be respectful—although it would help if you had a good sense of humour. 

So, let the Uber-friend Buzz begin!    I can’t WAIT to start getting “do me” emails from my “friends.”  After I stop giggling, I’m going to do you! 

 ~uberscribbler

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