And speaking of infinite blackness, what could be more darque than Shakespeare recited in the rain? Abandoned and wasted, Withnail, antihero of the comedy masterpiece Withnail and I, laments his ultimate failure to the wolves. This monologue shows him truly aware, for the first time, of the vast emptiness that is his life. Happy Monday!
“I have of late, but wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth,
forgone allcustom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily
with my disposition that this goodly frame,
the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory,
this most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave
o’erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted
with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to
me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
What a piece of work is a man! How noble in reason!
how infinite in faculty! In form and moving how
express and admirable! In action how like an angel!
In apprehension how like a god! The beauty of the
world! The paragon of animals! And yet, to me,
what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not
me: no, nor woman neither…”
Researchers in a US laboratory created the darkest ever substance, said to absorb light ‘perfectly’ from every angle and reflect nothing. In fact, scientists claim that it’s so fucking black that it’s 30 times blacker than the current benchmark of blackness. That’s right, there’s a benchmark for blackness. You heard it here first.
According to the Houston Chronicle, it “reflects 0.045 percent light, making it 100 times darker than a black-painted Corvette.”
Here is an exclusive preview of the darkest matter in the universe:
Amazing.
Scientist expect that this discovery will be applied in the fields of electricity, solar energy and next season’s Lip Service collection.
Have you ever been filled with the burning desire to see your favourite ’80s rocker step out of a massive, glowing vag and use his tongue to make sweet love to another man’s eyeball?
I knew it. You people disgust me.
I give to you the 1993 tour-de-force of homo-erotic gluttony that is Seth et Holth. Set to the backdrop of some actually rather wicked industrial rock, the 43 minutes of beautiful confusion that follows is staged by one Hide (X-Japan) and Tusk (Zi:Kill) as Angels who communicate with their blood, struggling after being cast out of heaven and eventually executed by earthlings. It’s kinda like a less pretentious Cremaster Cycle done in the style of a New Wave music video but with cooler-looking dudes.
Don’t make too much of an effort to ‘get’ this movie — seriously, it would make David Lynch cry — as it presents itself to be more of a visual and musical experiment. It’s worth a look as an unusual piece of rock nostalgia alone.
Pope Benedict releases the bats, via Worth1000’s If Goths Ruled.
Catwalk Ghost writes, “I came across the book named GOTH: Undead Subculture, which is a rather nice collection of essays about goth style and subcultural practices. But, one essay by Anna Powell, called “God’s own Medicine” about religion and beliefs in UK Goth scene made me laugh my ass off! So here are some quotes. I won’t quote the whole essay, ’cause each sentence of it is an instant comedy classic:
“As a sacred pararelegious space, the goth nightclub resembles conventionally religious practices in various ways. Like certain religious ceremonies, the goth club may feature the consumption of alcohol and psychotropic drugs and include forms of dancing that may become ecstatic, as in trance dance. The goth DJ … has a psychically separate “pulpit” from which to deliver musical “sermon”. Goth clubbers in the United Kingdom often travel long distances on “pilgrimages” to see their favorite Djs play venues” (pp 259-360)
Here comes more:
“As in some religious practices, the space of the nightclub is forbidden to some; only those deemed worthy are allowed entrance.” (p 360)
“The fact that admission is selective also suggests that the space within is sacred and needs protection from the profane defilement of nongoths.” (p 360)
“I have a fairly adequate knowledge of satanic forces, and I was interested to find out if this girl was obsessed with such a force.”
– James Dean, on befriending Maila Nurmi
Finnish-American actress Maila Nurmi, famous for having created the character Vampira, passed away yesterday in her sleep at age 86. Born in Finland and raised in Ohio, Maila moved to LA at age 17 to pursue modelling and acting. As a model she appeared in numerous pin-up magazines, and her photographers included Man Ray and Alberto Vargas. At age 35, Maila made her most notable appearance as The Ghoul’s Wife in Ed Wood’s Plan 9 From Outer Space – the clip can be seen here. For $200, Ed Wood got Maila to stalk around a graveyard as a glamorous, wasp-waisted zombie. The mute portrayal was Maila’s idea, as she reportedly couldn’t abide the dialogue that Ed Wood had written for her. In subsequent years Maila was the first horror movie hostess in television history, and in later life she made jewelry and clothing, which she sold though a shop on Melrose that she called Vampira’s Attic.
As one fan writes over at her obituary at LA Metroblogging, “I hope her, Ed, Bela and Tor are havin’ a coctail somewhere.” Maila may be gone, but Vampira will live on.
Left: Maila, the golden pin-up star.
Right: Maila in recent years, by Gabrielle G.
When I returned to Moscow after 14 years things had changed. A lot. My Russian slang was suddenly dated, most older women had fire engine red hair and there were superior coffee shops everywhere. To adjust and get a better feel of the Motherland I spent my evenings watching television.
Moskva Instruktsiya, or Moscow Instruction, is a program claiming to be a guide to Moscow’s growing subcultures. Conventionally attractive (and somewhat condescending) hostesses serve as the viewers’ chaperones to the underground. While the show is informative and uses now edgy propaganda art-inspired titles it does feel like the reality TV exploitation we’re used to here in the States. Interesting nonetheless is this piece of Instruktsiya gold YouTube so generously provided. I give you Russian Emo, Punks and Cyber Goths on Moskva Instruktsiya.
I love this photo by Hyperion for its milky, opalescent quality. Most “scene portraits” try to be loud and in-your-face, so it’s interesting to see portraits that are so muted that still manage to resonate a great deal of strength. Hyperion shoots mostly on film and uses sculptural hairpieces to fill up the square compositions. I sometimes disagree with the makeup choices in his images, but when it all comes together, it’s pure magic.
Today we are going to play a game! It’s called “Gothic Outfit or Halloween Costume?” There are eight gothic ensembles in this post; some of them are actual outfits designed by alternative clothing labels to be worn out and about in the scene, others are Halloween costumes intended for adults who want to play-pretend to be goths one day out of the year. Can you guess which is which? Test yourself after the jump!
Pierrot was my first crush, and I mean the very first one, the one before real life boys, girls, etc. It all began with a life size doll [the size of a 6 year old anyhow] of a crying jester. More of a fusion of Pierrot and Harlequin, he had long noodly limbs, painted fingernails and a white made up moon-face with permanent blue teardrops slightly raised on the plastic surface. I assigned him a variety of appropriately tragic personalities in accordance with whatever game I was playing that day.
The name “Pierrot” didn’t hold any meaning until I read Buratino – Tolstoy’s version of Pinnochio. He was Buratino’s dismal friend, eternally pining for Malvina the blue-haired doll. I was smitten by his dapper costume in the 1975 film version of the book. The magnificent ruff and floor-length sleeves on the squeaky pallid boy left a permanent impression.
“Novelty acts relied a great deal on shock, therefore performers were not revealed in the flesh to audiences until money had changed hands. Titillating publicity was crucial, as the people described in these adverts often bore little resemblance to what lay behind the curtain or turnstile. Exaggerated and stylised illustrations lent age to dwarf acts, stature to giants, and plausibility to mermaids and bear boys. The advertisers of these shows aroused the curiosity of the audience by overplaying, often entirely inventing, ‘true life’ stories.”
