TENTACLES 3rd ALBUM NOW AVAILABLE!

Prepare your brains for scrambbling. The new TENTACLES album, THE SECRET ROOM is now available. Good for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. You can put it your hands, complete with sweet art work, at http://cdbaby.com/cd/thetentacles3 Or for you robot types you put it in your computer at itunes. Enjoy and go in peace.

Handgun on IFC

Handgun is up on the Independent Film Channel website. Checkout the madness. http://www.ifc.com/films?aId=20130&bcpid=932579944&bclid=958607917&bctid=1119211999

Go Hawks!

New movie by TENTACLE collaborator Alex Minnick.

BRACE YOURSELF

Get ready loyal listeners. Our third album will be available nigh. You can purchase it from the fine folks at http://cdbaby.com/ in about a week. This is our magnum opus double album, THE SECRET ROOM.

Tentacle Drummers start small

Snip Snip!

Rio Astrido

Here's some Character Designs I did for a TV Pilot I wrote call RIO ASTRIDO. It was kind of a space spaghetti western meets Fellini. I knew it would never get made when I was writing it, but it was still fun.

Classic Movie by Tentacle

Groovy Movie by a Tentacle

The End of the Universe is Nigh

New image from upcomming Tentacle Video

The TENTACLES played on WEIRDSVILLE

The TENTACLES have been played by Weirdsville far out podcast. Check it out http://www.weirdsville.com/podcast.html

Christie from Buffalo

Christie from Buffalo sends her love to The Tentacles

FREEZE!

production Still for new Video

Space Brain!

New Tentacle Video in Progress

MUSEUM OF DRUNKEN ART SUBMISSIONS

THE NEW MUSEUM OF DRUNKEN ART is up and running and needs your inebreated art. Booze, pills, pot, terpentine, whatever gets you high, use it, make some art and send it to us.
http://themuseumofdrunkenart.blogspot.com:80/

"You must always be high. Everything depends on it: it is the only question. So as not to feel the horrible burden of Time wrecking your back and bending you to the ground, you must get high without respite. But on what? On wine, on poetry, or on virtue, whatever you like. But get high.And if sometimes you wake up, on palace steps, on the green grass of a ditch, in your room's gloomysolitude, your intoxication already waning or gone, ask the wind, the waves, the stars, the birds, clocks, ask everything that flees, everything that moans, everything that moves, everything that sings, everything that speaks, ask what time it is. And the wind, the waves, the stars, the birds, clocks, will answer, 'It is time to get high! So as not to be the martyred slaves of Time, get high; get high constantly! On wine, on poetry, or on virtue, as you wish."- Charles Baudelaire

Cosmic Expansion

Like the cosmos we're expanding. http://www.virb.com/tentacles

Tentacle fans from Naperville, IL

Image sent from Tentacle fans from Naperville, IL. Shout out from Jen and Michelle. They were listening to the Tentacles at the time.

Run Chery, Run!

IN THE BEGINING

In the Beginning

In the beginning Harry was our leader. He was a great big black hairy thing that came and went mysteriously. Some would say he was more beast than man. I agree. Harry inspired us to action not through his words (which no one understood) but through his actions. He was a force of nature. He was pure will like the waves or a rock or at very least like some rabid wolf running wild in a forest that abuts your property. In short he inspired fear but he inspired none the less. He inspired all of us.Back in those days we lived in a house, all of us. It was a great big sloppy house that needed paint and suffered from neglect. When it rained the house leaked. So we’d put buckets and pans everywhere, under the streams of piss that ripped from the ceiling. We’d wait for the buckets to fill then we’d bail them over the side of the front porch. I t made me feel as if we were living in an old boat, perhaps more like a shipwreck than a boat. And there we lived if not too well.I am sure that all of us worked at various trades during the day. I am certain that one of us worked as day labor picking fruit, and another was an accountant. I cannot recall my own particular trade, which leads me to believe it was one of little consequence. I would like to imagine that I was a baker, a proud baker inspecting his rising dough or sniffing warm muffins while the others are still asleep. But I myself have never been much of an early riser so I know this must not be so. Needless to say we got by and not too poorly when it wasn’t raining. Things weren’t so bad when you got used to the mold and gradual decay which consumed the house. And in the evenings we‘d sit on the not unsoggy front porch, sip on 2 penny ale and listen to warped Jimmy Buffet records which were pulled from water logged sleeves. When the record ended we’d listen to the crickets and then we’d go to bed in our respective rooms. One day we returned home from each of our particular trades, only to discover there was no longer any order there. Everything had been smashed. The chairs were smashed. The table was smashed. The stereo was smashed. Even the Jimmy Buffet albums were torn to shreds. Smashed and stacked into one great mound in the center of the living room. You could no longer tell the chair from the table, or the stereo from the records. It was now just a mound. We were perplexed to say the least. Some one of us said that he wouldn’t mind a 2 penny Ale, and others assented. It was then that Harry stepped in through the kitchen door.Harry told us that he believed the universe was in a state of chaos. And that he had transformed our living room into crude model of his vision of the universe. He said if we wanted order in our universe we would have to impose our will upon our environment. He said thus far we had not imposed our will at all but merely accepted what was given to us. None of us followed what he was saying. We nonetheless promised to try our best to carry out his orders. Some one brought in a case of 2 penny ale. We sat on the floor and solemnly hummed Cheeseburgers in Paradise. The next day we got down to work. With sheets of cardboard and a roll of Scotch Tape we began to recreate everything that had existed before in the universe which we called our living room. It was hard work. And nothing looked quite right. You might be able to name the things we made. For instance, that thing would be called a chair. But that was about all you could say for the thing, and God knows you wouldn’t want to try to sit in it, unless you were an extremely daring person. Just when we finished cleaning up, and sat down next to our “furniture” to have a 2 penny Ale, Harry busted through the kitchen door with a fireman’s axe, and began to savagely chop apart our work. Then he stacked the broken bits in a mound in the center the living room. He told us he wasn’t too happy with our work. He said we hadn’t exerted our will upon the Universe, but created a cheap facsimile of someone else’s. He told us to be more original. He told us we have to use the junk and detritus of the old one to create the new one. He said that’s all we got, someone else’s junk, do with it what you can. He taught us that the act of creation is the thing that matters. He put little emphasis on the thing it self and said we shouldn’t either. To illustrate this he destroyed each and everything we made. He said, like it our not that is the way it is. But he let us drink our 2 penny ale and there we lived in a constant cycle of creation and destruction. Despite Harry’s Will, some of the Objects of Creation have survived his brutal hands. These objects we have created in a universe we call the living room. These are the things we will show you, the graven images that have escaped the hand of the destroyer.