The first appearance of the man known as The Baron has been written many times. But as i know it…it was a fateful morning and an unnannounced early morning knock at the door. “I’m here, Holgate!” he proclaimed. The lights flickered nervously, dimmed, then suddenly popped as he crossed the threshold, and as he sank Read more…
Quick, shamefully lazy and bullet pointed update on the last week or so: + Spent late last week hanging out with the guys from Broken Hill City Council, helping out with some presentation materials for an upcoming film conference. In the months ahead, we’ll be looking at the Council’s various website and social media requirements, Read more…
A full complement of compellingly mesmerising video work available here. Back tomorrow with a full rundown on the Blaster May 2010 Pimptastic SA Road Adventure.
I‘ve worked with the Baron steadily over the course of a decade. It’s like bringing a gun to a knife fight. He brings a hangman’s sense of detail welded to a ferocious signature style. Professional as a stiletto blade, brave as a wolf, he’s a callous-handed workman with an eye on the angels. I don’t Read more…
The Blaster guys make life in the fast lane (online) just seem easy. They make spending 10 hours a day staring down the portal to hell (le computer) way more interesting; and like watching a Martha Stewart bake-aoff (sans the incarceration), they make it look so goddamn easy and fun! Since working with the guys, Read more…
Click to check out our new holding page for Eddie Perfect’s musical yuk-a-thon:
In anticipation of the upcoming release of their new disc, ‘Cinema’, we’ve given The Cat Empire’s Myspazz a good seeing to on the front and back ends. Ooh er, missus. Check it out here.
Check this clip we put together for Fancy Pants Gurney’s former outfit, Neon, way back in the day. This was pre- Blaster (if you can even imagine such an unenlightened time). We shot, roto’d and painstakingly hand painted this fucker frame by frame- groove on the ever impressive MPEG-2 filtered through early Youtube compression hell Read more…
To whom it may concern…man, woman or other, When it came time to join the 21st Century and finally have a website that represented all my insane ramblings, counter culture time bombs and “wish I hadn’t written that when I was drunk” posts, I looked far and wide for a team of internet boffins that Read more…
Welcome to the online home of the Genius Genus, the Ingenious Genius, those whom carry the Genius Genes. Do you believe in magic? Yes? Then piss off right now, because you're just a chicken nippled pony patter. There is no magic, only illusion created by people smarter and better than you. Formerly highly decorated Wiz Kids, they have blossomed into full blown Wizards of their respective skill sets, which are as diverse as they are death defying in their numerosity. They don't call them Superheroes, they call them contemporaries (except for Superman, he's just a wank off). The Blasterlings are the physical manifestation of a high-five, the sneaky reacharound and the open handed slap at the same time. A jumbotronic, cherub pissing fountain of wit biting reverse kowtowing with a difference. Pass us your apple and we will polish it to outer space for you.
All five members not only live outside The Box, but, in a Jesus-like medical miracle defying scientific explanation, they were actually born outside The Box. A team of A-Teamers, they know the secret to help the medicine go down and it ain't sugar. They followed the rainbow, killed the leprechaun (he put up a good fight though), used the gold to buy drugs, guns and illegal polar bear skin monk robes (complete with headpiece) and renovated the surprisingly large pot into a fully fledged arse kicking Think Tank. Having trouble visualizing them? Think Power Rangers but less gay. Think Ninja Turtles but better fighters. Think Brady Bunch but no one is related and they are all hot —and that's not a coincidence but a natural by-product of a steady diet of Genius for breakfast (because that is the breakfast of champions).
So relax in the knowledge that you are safe in the hands of the Gods. And we're not talking old, white bearded Gods in nighties, we're talking the old school Greek posse of sexy, and scantily clad, young Gods because that's something you can truly believe in.