Just a little longer until the mass hysteria subsides and we can resume our lives. While I do not personally condone babies or Jesus and am thus left cold to the concept of Christmas, I adore New Year’s Eve. Turning of the tides, a symbolic clean slate – the lot of it, I dig. Presents and snow are pretty great as well. I even like seeing sparkling decorated houses but what I do take issue with [besides the ever-present music] is people wearing Santa hats. Just, you know, out. Shopping, driving, what have you. What does it mean?
Yesterday while traversing the already-dangerous terrain of a mall I saw a woman, ahead of me in line, wearing an oddly filthy and balding Santa hat. To her credit she was carrying a coordinating red purse. That unfortunate hat, however, made me think for a moment this was a misguided vagrant robbing the place. Why did she do it? I imagine it as a signal of despair, an S.O.S. flag breaking out of the sea of Christmas psychosis. Or is it a beacon of acceptance? Whatever reason you might have, from a stylistic standpoint I strongly suggest saving the hat until you get to the party if you really must wear one.
When they’re not busy getting butthurt by cartoons or teddy bears, radical Muslim-types rather like spending their time suing employers into compliance with their totally voluntary dress-code. Case in point:
Left: Bushra Noah. Right: Sarah Des Rosiers and Wedge staff.
Sarah Des Rosiers, owner of alternative hair salon Wedge, has been ambushed with a frivolous lawsuit by one Bushra Noah on grounds of religious discrimination, after dismissing Noah from a trial position at her hair salon. You see, Noah, a self-described ‘devout’ Muslim, didn’t think it was important to mention in her telephone interview that she wore a headscarf, even though she admits that this is the reason she believes she had been turned down for hair-styling jobs in the past. Needless to say, when she rocked up to work she was requested to uncover her hair while at the salon, but she refused on grounds that it was ‘immodest’.
That’s right. A hairdresser who finds uncovered hair immoral.
Having been turned down by no less than twenty-five other salons, presumably for the same reason, Noah decided she’s had enough and set about destroying the business that Des Rosiers had poured her soul into.
Internet addict Barbie. Neglected children sold separately.
Okay, who didn’t make their Barbies do obscene things at some point? But The Subversive 11½ Inch Fashion Doll takes it to all new levels of wrong.
The author of the site, alt model Theda B, describes the effort as “awful things I did to my old toys in a fit of boredom” and presents the Mattell-made dolls, dubbed “Bobbie” and “Ben,” in some hilarious, completely un-PC scenarios that draw on politics, illness, subculture, deviant sexuality and criminal behavior. And a good time is had by all! My personal favorites are Pretentious Performance Artist Barbie, Bobbie Christ (or the “I’m Going Straight to Hell” doll) and Trench Coat Mafia Ben. Collect them all!
The site hasn’t been updated in 3 years, which is a shame. It would be interesting to see what kind of new dolls people would submit to the site today. My own contributions would be Internet-Famous Bobbie and Sadistic TSA Agent Ben.
It’s Monday morning again. Drag yourself up from that Ambien fog with some wholesome, manly arena rock:
(Broken link updated.)
Fuck a bunch of Flashdance. 1984 belongs to Billy Squier and his no-holds-barred performance in the “Rock Me Tonight” video.
In all seriousness, I give this man infinite kudos for venturing waaay out of his comfort zone. Shame on all the repressed homosexuals who renounced him at the time. Take into account the concupiscent gender confusion of those hazy days. Times were a’changing for classic stadium rockers. Let no one cast a stone at Budokan Billy for trying to scramble aboard big hair metal’s bandwagon, for who among us has not been seduced by some unfortunate 80s trend, either in their unquestioning past, or the ironic now? (Not I, says the girl clad in fluffy mohair legwarmers.)
This dance is a good dance. A dance of reckless abandon, vulnerable and radiant. On this dour Monday morning while the coffee brews and the sun beats down upon my satin sheets, I will do your dance, Billy Squier, and do it right.
(Wearing elbow pads, of course. With the shades drawn.)
But take heart, all ye heathens, Scrooges and secular humanists. There are so many delightful reasons to rejoice in the season besides the miraculous birth of Baby Jesus or being given a luxury SUV wrapped in a giant @#$!*& bow. Explore the wonderment beyond the cut.
Mikhail Vrubel is not particularly well-known in the West but he remains one of the greatest and certainly one of the most unique artists Russia’s ever produced. Most of his best-known work is inspired by fairy tales and poetry, and his own life was a sort dark fable in itself.
The Swan Princess (the artist’s wife)
Born in Siberia, Mikhail lost two of his siblings when he was still a child. Their untimely deaths affected him deeply, but didn’t stop him from developing his talent for drawing, among other widely varying interests. His family encouraged his interest in the arts and languages and in 1864 he began to study in St. Petersburg where he was educated in both law and art.
While these days everything Disney isn’t exactly perceived as cutting edge, things were different back in the day. Just think of gloriously creepy Fantasia and Pinocchio, both the fruit of Disney’s collaboration with Bauhaus painter Oskar Fischinger.
Disney intended to continue bringing in artists to further expand his studio’s horizons, and Destino was meant to be his next step in that direction. Salvador Dali thought very highly of Disney and cherished the project, completing for it 2 paintings at 135 sketches. A surrealist love story conceived and subsequently shelved in the 40s, Destino was finally unearthed, finished and released in 2003 on orders of Walt Disney’s nephew.
Update! If you’re in LA, you can see Destino for yourselves at LACMA through January 6. Thanks for the tip, 5000!
Though personally I would have preferred Dali traveled in time and worked with Peter Chung, this remains a fine testament to both Dali and Disney’s former glory. One more video beyond the jump.
I realize the fog machine/polyester armpit vapors of my last post are still fresh in your nostrils. Apologies if the following clip is officially too much of a good thing. Then again, can’t everyone can use one more reason to love this man?
Yep. That’s Richard Pryor fronting a deadly funk/metal band that looks like Sunn O))) on national television in 1977. This is indeed a strange and glorious universe.
