On May 1, 1947 Evelyn McHale leapt to her death from the observation deck of the Empire State Building. Photographer Robert Wiles took a photo of McHale a few minutes after her death.

I will never forget this image, which I discovered on the found-image photo blog riotclitshave. In fact, I’ve found many unforgettable images there. A little bit of everything: humor, horror, beauty, ugliness, joy and everything in between.  Sometimes, the blog curator, Bean Noneya, will go through phases. One week, she’ll be obsessed by the texture of old people’s skin. Another week, she’ll be taken by Islam. Preceded by: cute piglets! Another perennial RCS fixation is the interaction between people and animals. There is also a wealth of incredible black-and-white gems from bygone eras. If you’ve never seen this blog before, start looking. It’s a blog you can get lost in for hours; by the time you finally close the browser, the world will seem infinitely stranger.

When I told my roomate that I interviewed Bean for this blog, she didn’t seem that excited: “it’s just a popular photo blog where someone reposts images that they found elsewhere! It’s not like she takes them herself or anything.” But I’ve seen many photo blogs, and none impact me as strongly as RCS. In order to assort images so profoundly, one has to have a good eye, a sense of humor, a degree of subtlety and a unique perspective of the world. I’m constantly impressed by how the blog makes strong points simply by posting images in a certain order – a good example of that is the day she decided to post only images of female couples.

So who is the person behind riotclitshave? Why does she do this every week? Full interview after the jump.

Why “riotclitshave”?
It’s called riotclitshave as a play on “right click save” and the three words just felt rather lovely together.

Where do you find the images that you post?
I search for my images in a handful of ways. I watch a bunch of photo posting communities on livejournal, which include some Russian photodump blogs RSS’d into my LJ, I search terms on Google that I’m interested in and think will garner good pictures. I use the Flickr and LJ random image grabbers too. The Russian sites really give me some great stuff. It’s SO random and has so many pictures.

Have you ever posted an image that you later wish you hadn’t?
I have definitely posted pics that I wish I hadn’t. I don’t like posting photoshops- but I won’t usually delete them if I find they are. I get very annoyed with the comments whenever I post a skinny girl- people just can’t seem to help themselves. After the hundredth “sammich” comment I just want to delete the post. Which is why you’ll never see me post a picture specifically pointed at making fun of a fat person. People are cruel and I don’t want my journal to be a place for people to get hurt.

Pay no mind to the occasional tumbleweed blowing across you screen, comrades. The three of us are neck-deep in Issue 02 deadlines right now. Come Tuesday or so, postings should pick up again.

Meantime, please enjoy a rare clip of David Bowie speaking on behalf of his fellow nelly boys back in 1964. This was our reigning Preternatural Beauty King‘s first ever television appearance. He was 17 years old.

Aw, darlin’. I’ll carry your handbag any time.

Here’s an even more delectable baby Bowie tidbit, via Siege:

Getting busted for pot with Iggy Pop in NY, 1976.  (Frank Sinatra, eat your heart out.)

And since Halloween draws ever nearer and you’re (hopefully) not at work, there’s one more for the road under the cut…

Does your skull feel like it might shatter in a million pieces at the slightest movement of your head? Are you on the verge of vomiting into your valenki? Is a little too much weekend boozing to blame? Take the advice of Russian punk pioneers Sektor Gaza and try a more natural method next time.

Formed in the wake of 1980s glasnost Sektor Gaza was the first band to take full advantage of this newfound freedom of speech. Combining extreme vulgarity with elements of folk they quickly gained a distinct sound and a devoted audience. In a rare display of modesty, this song resists mention of sex and murder in favor of opium and marijuana. Sactor Gaza urge their listeners to give up nasty Vodka, toss that old samogon and indulge in Mother Nature’s own hangover cures.

I apologize right here up front for this post, which will absolutely put this fucking song in your head for days. Here, as part of a new print campaign out of Belgium for Love brand condoms, the head (sorry) of Microsoft makes yet another embarrassing ad appearance, this time minus Jerry Seinfeld’s dickiness. I guess Love figures Bill won’t sue. And when you (or at least I) think about it, the scenario of someone seemingly as asexual and powerful as Bill Gates suing a condom company is pretty ridiculous. But not as ridiculous as this ad! Dressing up penises like beefy finger puppets? How 6th grade! Belgian ad agencies sure have some crazy-ass notions about what effective condom advertising looks like, yes? This disembodied dick-work was created by Brussels shop Troy — ha, they have a Trojan horse on their landing page. Jump for a second ad featuring a tattooed theoretical Arnold Schwarzenegger schwanz. You can view the rest of the campaign, including a super-tasteless John Lennon execution, here.

Quoth the Kaoru: it’s almost Halloween, which is basically Goth Christmas. Well, in that case, we’d better start dishing out the holiday goodies. First up, a heaping, tentacular helping of The Dunwich Horror:

Ganked from the excellent Nightchillers site, thanks.

If you’ve never seen this campy Corman-produced adaptation of Lovecraft’s famous tale, you might want to Netflix it in time for your pumpkin-carving party.* Produced and shot in 1969 in the immediate wake of Manson Family shenanigans, it’s often pooh-poohed by Lovecraft purists for being too cornball. But in my opinion, Dunwich Horror is actually one of the better adaptations of old Howard P’s oeuvre** with its sumptuous matte paintings, capable-if-hokey performances from the cast, a beautiful score by Les Baxter, and a couple of genuinely creepy moments. Lovecraft stories lend themselves really well to the pyschedelic era.

Yes, he really did just say “horrendipity.”

Starring Dean “Uh Oh, Sam” Stockwell in his most brooding role short of Yueh in Dune, a rather weary-faced-but-supposedly-virginal Sandra Dee, and the even wearier-faced Ed Begley (his final role, R.I.P.), Dunwich Horror is worth renting for the gorgeous animated title sequence alone. Other highlights: the sight of young, yog-sothothelytizing Stockwell’s torso covered in pseudo-runic sharpie scribbles, Sam Jaffe’s “GET OFF MY LAWN” geezerdom, and Gidget clenching her butt in the throes of orgasm on the altar at Devil’s Hopyard.

Other Coilhouse posts of possible interest:

• Tentacle Love: Why?
• The Abominable Dr. Phibes
• Death Bed: The Bed That Eats
• Kenneth Anger: Inauguration of the Pleasure Dome

*Or if you’re really cheap, you can watch the whole thing on YouTube.
**Not that that’s saying much, really. Other than ReAnimator, what’ve we got that’s not just crotch-punchingly horrid? Hmmm, let’s see… actually, I wouldn’t turn my nose up at any of these: The Resurrected, Die Monster Die, The Unnameable, that Night Gallery episode Pickman’s Model, and the amazing Call of Cthulhu indie movie that came out recently. Can you guys think of any others? A great suggestion from commenter Jack: Carpenter’s In the Mouth of Madness.

Even when he’s drawing space vehicles, the myriad of minutiae executed with sharp precision hints at Keith Thompson’s classical influences. I’ve spent hours browsing Keith’s incredible portfolio and getting lost in the stories written for most of the art on display. The worlds behind each piece feel thoroughly conceived – it’s clear the author mulled over each detail of the fable along with the art. Gorgeous detailing decorates mutants, deities and demons, some of it recognizable, like this machine-beluga or the violin necks in the legs of the lovely musician below.

When a talented skald of the Swedish courts, renowned across Scandinavia for his unparalleled musical prowess, revealed himself as a disguised woman, she was swiftly executed, and the embarrassing events were stricken from polite conversation. Her sudden return to court functions shook even the staunchest war veterans, but not enough to stay a second wary, though swift, summary execution. Upon further returns, each revealing the scald to be strangely repaired in a manner befitting tailor more than physician, the court began to almost embrace the eerie presence. This cycle of returns and executions leading to a more and more transfigured court poet became something of an exalted tradition.

Thompson’s work is largely concept art along with two sections of illustration work with some beautifully fleshed out pieces you must see to believe. I’m not posting those here simply because of how great they look full-size.  Click. Click, also. Here the old school is especially visible, with the pieces reminiscent of Arthur Rackham and Edmund DuLac –  two of my childhood’s favorite illustrators. Thompson uses traditional techniques he converts to digital in the process, which is described and taught in an instructional DVD.

Keith’s galleries of Vehicles, Creatures and Undead showcase fantastic creatures, some of which take the term “Bio-mechanical” in a new direction. Perfect example: the Luxury Nautiloid below. From Keith’s attached text, some key features:

Upper observation deck used by vacationers with eyes strong enough to look up at the light shining down from the water’s surface. Huge windows offer a commanding view of the seascape from the comfort of interior dining areas and lounges.The ship can move fore or aft and when necessary these tentacles retract and the surrounding plates close up. These extended, flared muscular hydrostats are often used to pull surface craft down into the water for the amusement of the more spiteful tourists.

Beyond the jump, more art and stories from Keith Thompson. Thanks, Alice!

There are two kinds of people in this world. People who truly appreciate the subtle, sophisticated humor of Benny Hill, and people who should just crawl back into bed right now and cry themselves to sleep because they’re obviously hopeless, sub-human degenerates.

Er, wait. Perhaps I’ve got it backwards…

Well, anyhoo. If you’re still reading, good morning! Show me your knickers! Time for a painstakingly curated, unflaggingly tasteful assortment of undercranked “Yakety Sax” mashups, starting with this inspired pairing of Slim Shady and Boots Randolph with a whole lotta Whovians.

Now, click beyond the jump, or else I’ll pinch your butt!

[No one visits Coilhouse to read some blowhard’s soapbox rant, so I’ll keep it as brief as possible. The following missive is addressed specifically to our young, able-bodied, opinionated American friends of voting age who still aren’t 100% sure they’ll make it to the polls on November 4th. If that description doesn’t directly apply to you, please don’t waste your time reading any further. You might want to watch this charming video of a frolicsome chihuahua instead. Thanks!]

An Open Letter to the Basilica of Latter Day Apathetics (American Branch)

We’re in deep doo doo, loves. Up to our necks like the polar bears and the Dow. Every time one of you says “why bother voting when the system is so corrupt” or “all of the candidates are disingenuous scumbags, anyway” or “the whole thing’s rigged” or “what difference does it make”, we all sink a little deeper into the muck. Not okay. While I may share your doubts and your lack of trust, your personal defeatism mustn’t drag us any further down than we’ve already gone.

I do know a tiny handful of conscientious, some might say radical objectors who refuse to take part in U.S. elections because they want to see the system fail. While I don’t share that desire, I can at least respect their strong convictions. But let’s face it. Anarchic leanings are not generally the reason why folks in our demographic don’t cast a ballot. Far more commonly, people (especially young, moderate-to-liberal-leaning people) fail to vote because they can’t be bothered. The true obstacle preventing them from registering, reading up on the propositions, researching the various platforms and making the Herculian effort of slinging their asses over to the polls is plain old, limp-wristed lethargy.

Perhaps it’s naive, but I remain convinced that the inertia anchoring millions of otherwise rational and compassionate Americans to their armchairs on election day is one of the biggest reasons why our “democracy” needs air-quotes in the first place. Please, if you haven’t yet registered to vote, put aside your premature world-weariness for five minutes and GET ‘ER DONE. There’s still time, but it’s running out. In many states, the deadline is October 4th. That’s tomorrow.

I’m far from confident or enthusiastic about the way our country runs its elections, and this soapbox is an awkward perch for me. But I know one thing for certain, my young, able-bodied, non-voting American friend, and I really hope you will believe me:

Cynicism will not protect you from disappointment. It will not shield your loved ones from harm or neglect. It will never heal your community, fix the ailing economy, or return any semblance of dignity to this country.

Your indifference is not a safety blanket; it is a shroud.

Your vote is your voice. Say something.

The separation between advertising & editorial was likened by Henry Luce to the division between church and state; a vital, necessary wall that keeps a magazine honest and pure. We’ve had to turn down several advertisers so far because they pressured us to blog or run print features about them as part of the deal, and will continue to do that as time goes by.

That said, I’d like to dedicate a special blog post (though none of them asked for it) to our four main Issue 01 sponsors: people who decided to place an ad in the first two issues of a magazine that wasn’t yet even published, with a relatively small print run and no proven track record of print success. For a business to give their ad dollars to a such a new publisher, especially in 2008’s economy, was asking a lot. But these guys took the leap, and it’s because of them – as well as all of you, who ordered Issue 01- that we’re able to make Issue 02.

After the jump, my take on and personal thanks to Angelspit, Plastik Wrap, Lip Service and Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab – the fantastic four advertisers who put their faith in Coilhouse from the start.

Come on and go surfin’ safari with Mandela… that’s so narb, dude! Print campaign (click here for enlarged ad) for Denmark’s largest newspaper, Jyllands-Posten— now internationally famous of course thanks to publishing a cartoon of the Prophet Muhammad with a bomb in his turban. Headline: “Life is easier, if you don’t speak up. Debate.” Ain’t that the truth. Nice baggies, brodad! Chillaxin’ Nelson would be the Kahuna of South Africa, and Naomi would soo totally be his Gidget. And fighting to achieve liquid solidarity would have been wicked more peaceful than fighting apartheid ever was; everyone’s equal in the eyes of Neptune, Nellie. But, uh, Uncle Grey (JP’s ad agency)? That retouching job is gnarmin. (Thanks to Riptionary™ for help with the surf lingo).

Here’s a second execution in this goofy-ass campaign featuring a drunken barbecue chef Gandhi (click here to enlarge). Hey Mahatma, put another piece of cow on the fire for me! Fucker is bogarting the India Pale Ale. With these two ads, the Danish paper has now pissed off a couple billion more people. Who’s left? Richard Gere! Here’s a downhilling Dalai Lama just for you. Like the ads? Hate the ads? Debate.