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"Jim knew what he must do to woo his love. He began to pound a seductive rhythm upon the walls, then let loose his heart's song. It was "Too Drunk to gently caress" by the Dead Kennedys." Jim Spaceman, creative convention's finest recurring character and all around lovely dude, has finally earned his own thread. This is a collaborative art thread, for anybody who wants to page homage to CC's greatest hero. There is no fixed canon to Jim Spaceman: everybody remembers the day he sauntered into their lives, but nobody remembers it quite the same. All stories of him are echoes of echoes of tales once told by like a wise old alien or some poo poo. WHO IS JIM SPACEMAN? 1) he is a spaceman 2) he thinks real deep about life and stuff 3) he loves the Dead Kennedys 4) he shoots bad guys with a ray gun 5) pew pew pew WHAT DO I DO? Write stories, draw pictures, tattoo his space helmet onto your face. Anything you can do to advance the legend of Jim Spaceman. Stories: Jim Spaceman's Adventure and the Fuel Jim Spaceman: Moon Attack! Orbital Decay Art: Misc (tbc):
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Jul 19, 2016 07:32
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Spacemane Spaceman Jim aims his ship at the edge of the universe. He leaves his autopilot on, enters his form fit sleep pod. Keys it to deliver regular ambien doses every 2.5 hours for the next five decades. Tells himself when he wakes up things will be different. Keeping close to death morphs the visceral into numbness. He pushed it. Ticked off a whole gang of Hypercarvers in the grimiest slums of Vega. Slept with the daughter of the Necrolizard king. Programmed a Class 10 Robotorturer to think he had the codes to the Polar Star Death Laser. Still alive. Still alive. Still alive. Spaceman Jim was top of his class. Adventured so hard he broke the time continuum, jammed three lifetimes of white hot danger and red hot alien sex into his eyes and pores. Eventually things just happened in front of him. He started noticing how often he blinked. How much he was missing and how little he cared. But he still knows there’s something else out there. Something you could never wait long enough for. The second you gave up and looked away it would fill your blind spot. But there’s a place somewhere out there where time doesn’t even pretend to matter. Spaceman Jim wants to wake up there, even if he has to sleep away everything else. ☄ Spaceman Jim sees his reflection on his screen. He sees his helmet through his helmet, a black bubble. Spaceman Jim has no face. He could be anyone. He turns on his computer. It flickers, hesitant, before his browser pings against the server and brings a page back with it. It’s a website where people post stories thankless against walls of hate. Spaceman Jim has stories in his blood. The website has a weekly prompt. This week’s prompt is fanfiction. The week before this was poetry and the week before that was erotica. Spaceman Jim lost both weeks. But this week will be different. This week he will prove that his voice sings higher and laughs deeper. That the ocean of his tears is endless. Spaceman Jim opens up a blank text page. He hears the sound of his own breathing, heavy in the recycled air. The white space is dim through his helmet. He has to fill it. But what should he write? His ideas are all blocked up. They get lost in the slick city streets of his brain, turn to drugs, succumb to mental illness. The rain washes them away. Maybe I should write about that, he thinks. He feels the words flow from his brain stem to his fingertips and he presses against the keyboard to let them out. ☄ Spaceman Jam has found himself on a strange alien planet. He sloshes nervous against his space jar. Waits for himself to distill so he can assess his situation. The jams here are pitch black, like they come from somewhere else. They will breach his space jar and he will spill through the cracks into the harsh sun. It is red, the colour of Strawberry Jam, who he left back home. He was preserved for space travel. She is on the toast up above, spread over all. When he looks he doesn’t see her, for she is on the wrong face. The black jams will take me to her, he thinks, but he doesn’t want to go. Spaceman Jam feels fear. This is a relateable emotion. He begins to bound away on the planet’s grained surface. Don’t look back, he thinks. That is what I am supposed to do. To not slow down in this thrilling pursuit. But sometimes it isn’t easy to do what you should. Mid-leap, Spaceman Jam begins to rotate in the planet’s low gravity. As he turns the glass of his space jar gleams in the strawberry sun. He’s tilted, turning on axis. Slowly his visual field takes in the black jams. They stand unmoving against the horizon. A tableau of dark grape in ritual. The stars their breakfast table. Spaceman Jam falls back. Hits the planet surface and bounces a little. Lands on his back. Stares up at the sky. It is so far away. She is so far away. But one day, he thinks. I will find her. The knife of God will spread me with her again. Furiously, Spaceman Jam begins to roll. ☄ The space must flow. Spaceman Jim feels space in his veins, breaking up his bloodstream. He feels the gaps when they pass through his extremities. Fingertips to knuckles, bone chilled like hard-packed entropy. Spaceman Jim feels space in his veins press against his skin press against his space suit press against loving space and all around him the stars freeze and burn. take the moon fucked around with this message at 10:27 on Jul 24, 2016 |
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Jul 22, 2016 16:44
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SPICEMAN JAM did a go in the machine. Speciemtn Jem crossed the fields of stars until a point. A bead of sweat made an amazon rain gush down the temple of JIm. The gauges were reading Not Good, and the spacemanship was puttering out its last putter into a cold empty place. Spruceman had a thought back to the time when he made handshakes and promises to the United States of Earth. In the streets there was a great tear from all the eyes of the people. As he climbed into the belly of Spaceman Ship, he'd waved and made a promise to go out into the stars and find the thing called Hope. What was hard for Jim was the part before he went inside and away. There was a house that was the home of a spaceman. Spaceman Dad, they called him inside the house. Little arms hugging him all the time and little faces asking why, why, why when he said it was time to do the go for Hope. little faces who were needing an explain of the idea of relativity. A spaceman tells his smol ones what? when he's going into the far stars at light speed? By luck, the little faces were a learn, and knew the result of a spaceman traveling far for a Hope at lightspeed. The president of all Earth handshook with spicemaon and said no matter the famines, Jam's family would live and make smol-ones and jim would meet his great-great-great grandlittles if he found a Hope and brought it back to the US of E. A generous pension was given to the famil of spacemanjim. Space Man paid a visit to one, two, three, ten, fifteen planets. Their dry deadnesses made jims skin do a crawl. The shipbrain was friendly, but the stars were a cold place, and there was barely a microbe to occupy the mind of a spacemen, so his only thought was about the small faces in Earth and what it would be like for them in a place where there wasn't a smell in the dirt and where the planet winds blew too hard to make a house. Space Jim was at the final edge of the places space ship could go. Long ago said spaceship they should've turned around and said no, no, no Hope at all, but jim hadn't had a thought about turning back with nothing to tell his great-great grandsmols. Now the lights were beeping and the gauges were being very serious about the Not Good in the ship. Shipbrain said it's too late jim, it's too late. We are caught in a well of gravity around the big planet of this star. The fuel is not enough go to escape. Spacement and spaceship did the slow fall toward the heavy gas giant and the little moons swirled around, like little faces. One moon made a full come-around the planet and jim hadn't seen it before. on the moon was a light, and another light, and another, and the skin of its little face was green. Other spacemans from other times were landed on the little moon and making a light. Jim Spaceman ordered his ship: launch a spacedrone back to home and tell them Hope is in the galaxy. Spaceshipman said, Jim this will take the last of our energy reserves. And Spaceman JIm looked out into the little lights on the green face of the moon and said not a thing. ------------------------------------------------- ----- Spaceman Jemma raised her eyes to a sky. Not her sky, but a sky, and now it had in it a new sparkle. A tiny light that made jema think of a home and a Hope that the long spaces between things had done her a forget. The big gas planet swallowed up the new sparkle after a few days of her and the other spacemans holding a watch with instruments and telescopes. Jem was all cry, but then another said look, look! and a tiny star whizzed off into the empty space between Hope and Hope. Thank you spaceman no-name, thought sapceman jemme as she built a better house for a long wait for Hope. 
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Jul 23, 2016 07:50
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Yes, this is some good Spaceman. ________________________________________ Lost Property Jim Spaceman smiled. "How about I pay you in sexmaking?" he said to the three-eyed alien babe. "Sir this is a police station," she said. "That's not legal, nor appropriate." Zounds! However else was he going to get back his collection of classic punk vinyl? The dastardly alien overlord Mingol had obviously paid-off these space police to stop Jim from getting back his prized possessions. Mingol didn't even want the vinyl because they held sentimental value- he wanted them for some dumb hipster bullshit reason about authenticity. He was probably going to mix them into EDM or something. What an rear end in a top hat. There was only one thing for it. Jim drew his trusty blaster, and shot the alien policeman right in the face. "PUNKS NOT DEAD" he cried, while unleashing a fusillade of plasma bolts on the crooked coppers. After it was done, his phone buzzed. It was Spaceman Jim, his roommate and arch-nemesis. "Jim Spaceman," said Spaceman Jim, "I found a box of your old records. You want to hold onto them or can I put them up on Gumtree?" The stink of dead and burning bodies surrounded Jim Spaceman, and he sighed. He really needed to ask questions first and shoot later. "Yeah nah," he said, "just leave them alone for now. What are we doing for dinner?" "It's Taco Tuesday," said Spaceman Jim. "So we're having tacos." "Cool," said Jim Spaceman.
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Jul 26, 2016 03:11
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Space, man Jim lay on his back on the fields of Earth, the planet he'd arrived at on his spaceship. 'The stars are a very long way away,' he said. 'And in between them;' said Jim, 'Space.' https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uRqoRWBTINo
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Jul 26, 2016 03:50
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