Having left the British State schooling system bitter and disillusioned, Thom Thumb ‘rationally’ decided that it was best for mind body and soul, to jump rather hastily onto the A-level bandwagon. On reflection this was a big mistake. In reality the experience was dominated by a mind-numbingly tedious two-hour bus journey which left scars deeper than those inflicted on a choir boy in a Catholic School. Mental torture 1 – Learning 0. It also turns out that teachers don’t take too kindly to bad language – who knew? Anyway, to cut a long story short, things went from bad to worse and introversion became his chosen modus operandi. After hop scotching between various educational institutions he finally decided that enough was enough and could be overheard saying “If anyone see’s me in a fucking college again, shoot me!”
Feeling like a man with a fork in a world of soup, several months of mayhem followed, including a long period bussing tables in a French cafe on minimum wage followed by further mayhem, disorder, havoc and general nihilistic madness, which eventually led to a realisation that change had to come – and soon. A long, life changing trip to the wilder cities in South America was the tonic he needed. This rekindled a passion for language, art and learning (as well as a taste for rum!). Anger and discontent was finally channelled into something more creative. Paranoid Mandroid is just one expression of this. There will be more.
Comprehensively consistent in his inconsistency and not a lot else, except consistently underperforming in all his endeavors hitherto, Fail Burgers, fully in-denial of his inadequacies, persists, none-the-less, in attempting to find a median in which he may find glory. Whilst feeling the mighty anti-climatic retribution dealt at the hands of the British justice system, the consequence of another drastic felonious Fail Burgers fuck-up, he became well acquainted the pen and paper and thus another tool to massage his dualistic ego. Spurred on by the pity-manifested-in-compliments, Fail Burgers used this to fuel his self-deception that people appreciated what he has to say and the way he has to say it. Now, once again subject to geographical freedom, and the internet that comes with it, he has decided to further saturate the ocean of narcissism that is blogging with his incoherent, irrational and irrelevant observations. Using self-depreciation as a tool to soften the blow of his inherent aloofness and obfuscation to hide the cracks in his quasi-intellect, Fail Burgers will choose any subject he knows that people in the vicinity aren’t boring enough to know anything about and use it to fail to convince people that he’s cool. He’s definitely not cool, don’t give him any more of your time.
Hailed as the disputed master of uninformed Marxist rhetoric, Nelson fuses together belligerent off-the-mark political musings with a fanciful and down right ridiculous view of the interlacing realities around him. His brief and uneventful career began as a simple street heckler; unable to read the faces of his myriad monologue victims he could not see the spectrum of emotion ranging from confusion to contempt (and not much in between) that he primarily received. After losing balance and falling from his dilapidated soap-box face first into disused entheogen forum, he has sought solace in an egotistical pretence that his pseudo-intellectual ramblings actually mean something. Hence, he resides here at paranoid-mandroids in the false hope that someone will actually give a shit what he has to say.
Since an early age, commandeering family members cameras and finally receiving his
own 35mm SLR at 13, J-Shoots has been a keen enthusiast of anything photographic. Despite (or possibly due to?) an abundance of beautiful landscape opportunities around his rural home in Sussex, J’s shots usually include a sometimes-unusual human element. Attempting to combine the surreal with the real in doing so documentary his own life and the lives of others around him.J-Shoots is now studying a BA in photography at London College of Communication, his role in the Mandroid Collective is tackling all of the “conceptual bullshit” that is art on the site.
Scribbling on a can of spam that goes out of date at an unknown time is essentially what
what Stout does. Being dead longer than you are alive adds the element of importance to click, sketch and contribute in order to make your mark on the spam can. Having been processed through the pipes in the education machine, currently being quality checked at the University of the Arts conveyer belt and jumping face plant first down the creative rabbit hole in doing so learning that the key in becoming a true ‘artist’ is to be able to articulate yourself well enough to make the bullshit believable. Mr Stout feels that art today has mutated into the exploitation of the confused – giving rise to blank canvas’, balls in rooms and shit on a plinth. Inspiration is to be found in work that embodies good ideas and talent – something that makes your mind rewire to something else, giving you a chance to understand a different slant. Clarification is what he’s found through drawing, the chance to escape into a world that has not yet been made is something clearly addictive
We are always looking for more writers, photographers and artists to join the collective. If you’d like to contribute in anyway please contact me (Thom Thumb) at ThomWhite1911@gmail.com or via any of the other members.
Note: you can remain anonymous if that’s your wish.