You may have already seen this photo at BoingBoing or elswhere, but it’s too charming not to include here. Strange creatures from a strange world gazing at other strange creatures from another strange world. This photo was taken with a point-and-shoot camera by a hobbyist photographer, who was attending the aquarium with her friends during Dragon*Con. The photographer, positivespace on Flickr, had this to say about the photo in the BB comment thread:
For what it’s worth, the only editing I did in Photoshop was a small amount of cropping (apparently trying to center an image crouching while dressed as the third Good Fairy in a hoop skirt and a giant stuffed bra was difficult… who knew?!).
I was very lucky with this photo. Awesome environment, awesome models (my lovely friends) and, IMO, an awesome point-and-shoot camera. I basically wandered by this window, saw a great opportunity, directed my friends to stand under it, stuck the camera on Auto and fired away.
Harpers Bazaar UK employed Jake and Dinos Chapman who, with the help of photographer Michelangelo di Battista and illustrator Jon Rogers, produced this fantastic set for their November issue, which focuses on the always stunning Claudia Schiffer and features the supermodel in a variety of Grade-A pulp situations such as “Femme Fatale With Gun”, “Sexy Girl Tied Up and Being Threatened by Hand With Whip”, and “Sexy Girl Bound and Gagged Being Threatened by Ghoul”. I have linked the entire series after the jump, in standard, tiny Coilhouse image form but you should go here to see these in all their huge, scanned glory. I love them, but then, I’m a sucker for stuff like this. The pulp fiction thing. Not, you know, the sexy girl bound and gagged thing.
Three cheers for Oakland-based photographer Neil Girling! Longtime readers may recall his beautiful work from this 2007 post about California’s thriving underground circus scene. More recently, Neil braved scorching temperatures and hoards of cheerfully chafing, corseted quaintrelles to bring Coilhouse the following photo essay about the second annual Handcar Regatta. A tip o’ the topper to you, good sir, and thanks again. ~Mer
September 27th saw the second installment of the Great Handcar Regatta, an afternoon of nonsensical anachronism, whimsy and ingenuity in Santa Rosa, CA. Though temperatures burned hot in the triple-digits, many thousands of spectators and participants flooded the Railroad Square historic park, perusing vendors, sipping refreshments, seeing live music, and — of course — watching the races.
Rock*N*Roll Sunday School Fixed Gear, powered solely by running, crosses the finish line.
Official MC Les Claypool provided commentary to the thronging crowds, which were said to have reached nearly 10,000 (a keen-eyed friend said Tom Waits was among them), many of whom were dressed appropriately old-timey for the occasion.
Let’s be clear: I’ve spent some time on the internet. It is debatable whether it is too much time; but at this point I think my deathbed speech could be a meme re-imagining of Roy Batty’s death scene. There are times, regardless of the wonders which course through the tubes, that I find myself bored and listless. Regardless of how many strange bits of fascinating minutia there may be floating around, sometimes they fail to excite, to provoke any sort of response.
I’ll admit that this is due more to my own state of mind than the quality of the content on offer. Sometimes there is nothing that is going to inspire me; nothing to stir my sluggish and stubborn brain into action. Thankfully there are people like Keandra4ever. They know that, when you’re at your lowest, the best thing for it is a musical tribute to a dashing, Hawaiian little person; because no one ignites the imagination quite like Keanu.
There are two kinds of people in this world: people who have known the sweet, swooning rapture of a Nutella binge… and Skippy-on-Wonderbread eaters.
The former have created elaborate websites devoted to the spread, written effusive poetry, made Rihanna “Nutella-ella-ella” sendups and started Facebook groups declaring their love. The latter have a hollow, empty feeling inside that no amount of pasteurized peanut butter and spongey white bread can ever hope to fill.
Michael Doyle over at Burnlab reports, “I stumbled across this clip from The Year of Living Dangerously this morning while doing a search for Vangelis [the seminal electronic music composer responsible for the Blade Runner score]. Ripley and Mad Max making out to Vangelis = awesome.” Aww!
Remember the Coilhouse ode to ruffs? And the slightly shorter ode to digital artist/photographer Natalie Shau? Well, here we have two great tastes that taste great together. I could easily see this image, titled Dominion, on the cover of Elegy. I love the colors, the wallpaper, the texture of the ruff. The waist is maybe a bit too Ralph Lauren-ish – if you’re going to make it that small, I feel like it should look obviously cinched, like Mr. Pearl – but I love everything else about it. Go Natalie! For more new work, check out her site.
Uncanny isn’t it? We could very well be twins, Chris and I– separated at birth, but forever bonded on some bone-deep, intuitive level by our mutual love of awkwardly protracted silence and sensual mouth-breathing. The only real difference is, my tits are hairier.
Via DJ Dead Billy, who says “if only L RON would’ve delved into anime!” Think of the possibilities.
That cute and cuddly bearded fellow you’re watching in the above clip is none other Shoko Asahara, founder of Aum Shinrikyo (Supreme Truth), the infamous Japanese Buddhist/Christian cult obsessed with psychedelics, yoga and apocalypse. They’re now known as Aleph. Guess they felt like they had to change their name after receiving a smidge of bad press back in 1995, when a group of their members released sarin nerve gas into Tokyo’s subway system, killing twelve people and sending thousands more to the hospital.
Yeesh! Asahara with the Dalai Lama, sometime in the late 80s. This was a while before Aum Shinrikyo’s terrorist activities, kidnappings and murders started, mind you. The DL’s inner circle members was initially supportive of the cult’s bid for legal religious organization status, but later severed all ties. More recently, Asahara has been a vocal critic of the Dalai Lama and Tibetan Buddhism.
It’s worth noting that Aum’s previous deployment of sarin gas on the central city of Matsumoto was officially the world’s first use of chemical weapons in a terrorist attack against civilians. Asahara was convicted of masterminding both attacks in addition to committing several other crimes, and sentenced to death. He’s now awaiting execution.
Christ, again? Seriously, you knew your boss was crazy but this is just getting ridiculous. I mean, how many pictures of fucking Spiderman does one man need, really? They never publish more than two or three anyway. Bet the bastard probably jerks off to ’em at home. Asshole. Well screw him, you’ve got better things to do than indulge his weird fetishes. It’s time for the FAM.
For your enjoyment we present M – Eine Stadt sucht einen Mörder or simply M as it was known here, Fritz Lang’s story of a murderer terrorizing Berlin. Considered by Lang to be his finest film (a sentiment I echo; Metropolis being a masterpiece of design but a mess of everything else) it helped to launch the career of Peter Lorre, previously known as a comedic actor, who would go on to be typecast as a villain for years afterwards. Many have suggested that the film was inspired by the case of Peter Kürten, “The Vampire of Düsseldorf” the serial killer and rapist who preyed on the citizens of Düsseldorf from February to November of 1929, a claim that Lang steadfastly denied.
This is a movie that always comes up when I discuss the current resurgence of so-called “torture porn”, films created by hacks with no idea how to direct a film. The opening scene of M is a tour de force of subtlety, the image of a balloon, entangled in telephone lines infinitely more effective than anything seen in the tenth installment of Saw or anything even remotely related to Eli Roth. They really don’t make them like this anymore.
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