Samuel Cockedey’s time-lapse of Tokyo has been making the rounds, and many of you may have already seen it, but it deserves to be enshrined here. Set to “Paradigm Flux” by Paul Frankland, aka Woob, it’s just the right thing for a quick afternoon break.

via Pink Tentacle

Tonight, I can’t stop thinking about one of the more influential, yet relatively obscure artists at work during the post-Happenings decade. Ana Mendieta:

From Ana Mendieta’s “Body Tracks” series, 1970s.

It’s all too easy to scoff at raw, bloody, chthonic feminist performance art these days. Hell, it’s all too easy to scoff at just about anything that whiffs of pussy power. After all, this is 2010! No need for histrionics, right? We’ve been liberated, reborn. We’re fierce and comfortable, right? We’ve seen it all a hundred times before… rrrriiiiiight?

Then again, what Alice Miller said about scorn holds a lot of sway: “Contempt is the weapon of the weak and a defense against one’s own despised and unwanted feelings.” In light of that assessment, whether one chooses to roll their eyes or not, Mendieta’s (earth-)body of work, and the circumstances under which she died, resonate as much right now as they did in the 1970s and early 80s. (Although, come to think of it, there were plenty of eye-rollers then, too.)

In any case, on the 15th anniversary of her mysterious death, I’m lighting candles for Ana Mendieta and wondering what comes next.

Second-hand Tang Poem, Maleonn’s series from 2007, is only a small sample of a portfolio overflowing with surrealistic delights, but it is among my favorites. These black and white dioramas tell the story of a mystical, far off land — a tale both somber and silly. It’s a dichotomy seen throughout his work and he uses this balancing act to great effect. His work isn’t on exhibition in the US at the moment, but he does have a show at Blindspot Gallery in Hong Kong.

“Neverest” is a single of of Star, the debut album from Hey Champ. The song itself is of the electronic variety, the members of Hey Champ playing their instruments from inside the confines of neon tinged pyramids bastardized from Gary Numan’s repertoire. We’re not here for either the song or the set design, however. No, we are here for the beautiful, lithe nymphets gyrating in their underwear, swinging their hips back and forth like seductive pendulums, their sentient dolphin-head breasts swiveling on their chests, eyes glowing with otherworldly light.

Why these women would have cetaceans sprouting from their torsos is a question I am not equipped to answer, nor would I allow myself to pass judgment on those who find the image of the aforementioned cetaceans bound to the human form arousing. I am simply pointing out that it is a thing that exists and we are, all of us, going to have to accept that.

via The Daily What

An exotic new craving on this post Labor Day morning before the start of the work week, even, perhaps, before one’s first steaming sip of strong coffee: a concoction consisting of toasted bread, processed meatstuff, a limp, plasticky piece of American cheese, and a slice of canned pineapple possibly past its expiration date.  This, apparently, is “Hawaii  Toast”, a delicacy whose existence I was very much ignorant of until just yesterday. Just look at it! Delicious, or what?

Judging from his orgiastic consumption of the things, it would seem Alexander Marcus finds this to be true as well.
His… um… excitement, you’ll soon see, is quite evident.

Thanks, Mathyld for sharing this!

(via wikipedia) Alexander Marcus … is a persona of the German music producer Felix Rennefeld…
Rennefeld’s music is a mixture of modern electronic club music and folk music, which he has named ‘Electro Lore’, a combination of ‘electro’ and ‘folklore’…Marcus exaggerates many of the clichés present in pop music, and his music videos feature “trashy” objects, such as a recurrent plastic globe called “Globi”. Spiegel Online sees the character as a typical example of a return to pop-art social criticism. Never breaking out of character, he leaves the question of whether he is a parody unanswered:

The idea that the guy might really be as barmy as it seems, remains at least possible.

—Uh-Young Kim for Spiegel Online

And, for added hilarity, a translation of the lyrics. Guten apetite, indeed.

Every once in a while this happens: I find something hilarious, get excited to post it here, and then realize that it’s only funny to Russian-speakers. However, in the case of this touching love ballad, poignantly titled “My Pepper Misses Paris Hilton”, I’m compelled to share anyway. Even took the time to translate the lyrics, which you’ll find after the video.

It should be noted that “pepper” in Russian is pronounced “peh-rehtz” – not unlike “Paris”. Yes, with that in mind I believe everyone will be able to appreciate the elevated subtleties of Russian humor presented herein.

Pardon the blackface.

[via Eugene Rabkin and Style Zeitgeist]

LYRICS

She’s not idiot, far from it. She’s not the queen of glamour for nothing!
She’s a personalty, a socialite lioness.

Oh, mommy, how I suffer. I don’t know what to do with this pain.
I suffer so, I languish.
I’m in love.
My pepper misses Paris Hilton.
My pepper misses Paris Hilton.

Bottle of whiskey and I have become too close.
I can’t speak English.
A Limp Bizkit CD, two caramels in my pocket – this is all I have to my name.

Oh, mommy, how I suffer. I don’t know what to do with this pain.
I suffer so, I languish.
I’m in love.
My pepper misses Paris Hilton.
My pepper misses Paris Hilton.

RAP BREAKDOWN

Paris, you know full well
I’m out of my mind from you
When you’re not near winter is in my heart
You’re a dream, a beauty, you’re my baby
O, Paris, you’re my beloved,
I suffer so, I languish, I can’t stand it.
What am I to do? I don’t know.
All that’s left is to sing.
I’m tired of drinking alone,
My spleen is killing me.
Baby, call me, we need to talk.

My pepper misses Paris Hilton.
My pepper misses Paris Hilton.

An animated short of MAXIMUM MEMEWORTHY ADORABLENESS, directed by Dean Fleischer-Camp. (“I am a director and an editor. And I literally got a college degree in making movies! You believe that? A COLLEGE DEGREE. College for movies? Hah! Can you beat it? I don’t think so– movies are the best!”) He is made of awesome. Go check out his website RITE NAO.

Marcel the Shell is voiced (“untreated and unenhanced”) by Jenny Slate– yes, the very same Jenny who dropped an F-Bomb during the live taping of her SNL debut. Prepare to squee your pants.

Holy balls, kids. HOLY. BALLS.

These are stills from a clip of one seriously wackypants “Japanese punk rock Exorcist homage” called (appropriately enough) The Exorsister. It comes to us courtesy of the ever-terrifying and wondrous Weird Shit Magnet that is Dogmeat, who says “I’m laughing, because this is one clip where even I ask myself ‘Where do you get these?’ Stick around for the octopus attack… as if you would turn this off!”

Definitely not safe for work. Click the collection of stills above… IF YOUR DARE.

Oh dear! Nearly 6pm here in LA already, and we’ve left you without a Friday Afternoon Movie? Please accept this offering in its stead. Ease into the weekend with a chewy and lively [har har] lecture on suspended animation by cell biologist, Mark Roth. From TED:

Mark Roth studies suspended animation: the art of shutting down life processes and then starting them up again. It’s wild stuff, but it’s not science fiction. Induced by careful use of an otherwise toxic gas, suspended animation can potentially help trauma and heart attack victims survive long enough to be treated.

Enjoy!

Guest blogger Olga Drenda writes about war crimes and home-made drugs for a living, but it’s fluffy rodents who are her true love. She hails from the land of pierogi, supermodels and death metal bands, and is an editor at seelebrennt.com.

Veteran of experimental cinematography and the main injector of Thelemic mysticism into the realm of film, Kenneth Anger, goes fashion. The director of Lucifer Rising and Inauguration of the Pleasure Dome filmed a delightfully trippy promotional video for the renowned brand Missoni, starring members of the Missoni family who find themselves in the roles of shamans in rapturous visions.

Created in the signature Anger style, this multi-layered and otherworldly ad is a brave move in terms of fashion advertising as the Fall/Winter knitwear collection isn’t especially showcased, with the focus on visuals, instead.

The haunting soundtrack was recorded by French sonic artist Koudlam, who surprisingly fits here even better than classic occult troubadours, Current 93 or even Coil themselves might.

For those who miss a hint of ecstatic psychedelia in modern advertising, this is a must see. As a post scriptum, here’s another example of this re-emerging trend: in Chrissie Abbott’s ceramic design for Jaguar Shoes, you can find enlightened kitties of wisdom. Scroll down for cats! 93/93!