Hello Stranger #1
Welcome to the first of many insightful and exciting letters. Please forgive any future transgressions as I have been known to be a wee bit blunt regarding our realm of popular culture – A strange world where art is bludgeoned with commerce and smiles.
In fact, smiling is something that intrigues me. Thailand is “the Land of Smiles”. I found it to be a most genuine country where the people who smiled did so in earnest, and often. It blew my doors off as I had always lived by a simple edict: Never trust a man who smiles too much. He could be killing me with kindness or some ish. Especially if the teeth are bright, shiny like waxed marble; reflective and glittery. Yeah, that ish bugs me. But not in Thailand.
At Stranger we will endeavor to make you beam like the folks of Thailand. Or scream like my first girlfriend. No filter.
Our collective is a team of mystery misfits that hail from all walks of life. Some run companies; others run their mouths and minds. Our inspirations range from Frank Frazetta to Frank Castle, Sergio Leone to Sergio Mendes, and Spike Lee to Bruce Lee.
We pay homage to the true artists who have sacrificed, and to those in their lives who have perhaps sacrificed more.
Without wanting to sound like a preacher standing on a splintered box, I just want you to know that we will work our asses off (as much as I am a fan of asses), to bring you the highest quality of fantasy, family, and fun.
Please check out the Grimoire, found on our Asunda page. It will shed some light (or dark) on our unforgiving fantasy world. Characters share their journals, bios, and targeted enemies! Please comment on who you love and love to hate, as it could help us decide the next hero or villain we develop.
When I was four, my father sat me down and had me watch the ultimate hero – probably the same day he taught me how to shoot a magnum .357. I know Dirty Harry had a .44, but my dad thought the extra kick was unnecessary, and the barrel was too long and unwieldy for a four year old. I loved those films, and even more the spaghetti westerns. The Man With No Name trilogy is a foundation of my inspiration. From there I delved into the source material of the genius Akira Kurosawa, and branched into the beautiful violence of Sam Peckinpah. But to me it was always Clint. His love of jazz mirrors my own. Bird wreaked havoc on my senses and is perhaps my favorite biographical movie. High Plains Drifter and Outlaw Josey Wales are works of gun slinging art, and Unforgiven was released at a time when I was old enough to appreciate his final homage to the western genre. The perfect film. These pictures sculpted my imagination and my early views of what a man was and should be. I learned the hard way I could never be that cool but the trying was damn fun. Looking back, I think all my heroes have a little of Clint. So… thanks Dad.