TARGETS : Art For Our Target Range

Guests were to arrive with the desire to do some shooting practice in our dry pond; some time ago I had thought of doing some very reprehensible and irresponsible target art, and these factors converged this past weekend into these targets, made to be blown up.
We'll start with one of my faves the "(Startled) Toddler", and then go into a few of the weaker ones, ending with my favorite two. These were done very quickly, about 90 minutes (on a very hot day on the front porch) for the whole lot, and they're large- averaging three or four feet tall.

Even after many rounds were put into all of these from the nine millimeter, the 22, the crossbows, and the shotgun, they were still in good enough shape to use for sheet mulching around the farm- which is what they had been destined for to begin with; being art drawn on scrap cardboard.
The Cyclist --I thought they'd have a hard time hitting 'im- but he got pegged with great accuracy all around. I thought about shooting "after" photos of all of these, 'cuz they have some lovely damage now, but I have a video of it, anyhow.


Yup, I do have a sick sense of humor... I made a Cop Pinata once for a Dumpapalootza event and have done a lot of intricate art over the years that was designed to be sturdy-yet destroyed utterly at some point in it's functional life.

Sightings of our local tri-city Turkeymonster have continued. No live specimens have been caught, though.

That's about it for this installment- I wanted to share my twisted target art (not being a big "shooter" by any means myself, by the way- but since we are zoned to have our own gun club out here...).
Just another day in Dogtown / Lower Bottom below. Glad I live further away from there now.
Some URBAN FORAGERS from an old magazine illo of mine (below).
It's best to assume at this point that the powers that be are not telling us the whole ugly truth (resulting panic, economic turmoil, etc.) about global warming (even though what we do hear is bloody awful) -
and now-
the food supply is (obviously) contaminated (refusal of enormous amounts of Chinese food additives and products at the borders) to a degree that the ruling class will only barely dare to hint at. Well, it's grim indeed, and I'm glad I don't eat much packaged food at all annually, or have pets that I must cook for weekly. The dystopian and nihilist novels of my youth I enjoyed, sure, but who wanted to see them coming to life with such vigor- and so soon in my life- after all of that 1970s talk from the adult world about how these things were sewed-up and taken care of-!
The nerve of that era- to abandon hippie and green and feminist and racial equality ideals and learn nothing at all from oil rationing and govenment corruption of unimaginable proportions.
What a scenario... what poetry.