September 27th, 2008 by Gnat
This world has lost yet another great talent! What a man: achingly handsome, amazing wife, brilliant actor, entrepreneur, philanthropist extraordinaire. Here is a killer YouTube clip (along with Johnny Cash score and Roger Ebert quotes) describing Newman’s ascension as the anti-hero is his films:
August 4th, 2008 by Gnat
The first thing is one of my very favorite works by Kurt Vonnegut, a short story from 1961, Harrison Bergeron. In my opinion, this mega-short work is one of the finest modern short stories. Harrison Bergeron is up there with Flannery O’Connor’s excellent Everything That Rises Must Converge, but much, much different. Although both stories are based around the theme of equality and both works comment eloquently and without cheesy sentiment on the nature of the human condition.
On a much different note, here’s a great clip by the Black Lips where they come off sounding more like the Stone Roses, with Veni Vidi Vici:
July 15th, 2008 by Gnat
I can’t believe this extensive collection of experimental film and video works the fine folks at UbuWeb posted. Streaming media and downloadable files too:
I want to do subsequent posts highlighting a few select works, but there are so many to choose from! Hours of enjoyment and education, my friends. There is also a sound section that I’ve yet to peruse:
In other news, I know it’s the lamest thing ever to update friends and acquaintances on your status via your blog, but fuck it. Friends if I’ve been a bit remiss at communication lately please forgive me. I’ve been slightly under the weather, both physically and mentally, but am now on the mend. I went to the doctor today, got some pillz and should be feeling better soon. Also as many of you know, I have a great uncle who was recently committed to the nursing home in Texas. He has the beginnings of Alzheimer’s disease (among many physical ailments including lymphoma) and yesterday tried to escape from the home. It’s all pretty sad and I’ve been dealing with beaucoup de family drama lately. So if any of you out there believe in good vibes, please send some to my uncle Charlie. He could use it.
June 25th, 2008 by Gnat
A couple of years ago an internet friend reacquainted me with the writings of Carlos Castaneda. I hadn’t thought much about the new age guru Castaneda since lifting one of his books from the public library in about 9th or 10th grade. I didn’t mean to steal it, I think I just checked it out and forgot to return it. Anyways, the little I read of The Power of Silence in high school didn’t leave much of an impression on me at the time. I think I checked it out mainly because I’d heard there were drug references within. Around this time I also read On the Road and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, the first books that made me want to squeal with joy: “Drugs, drugs! They’re writing about drugs!”
I’ve since had my fill of drug-related literature (ok, maybe not), anyways that’s not why I took to reading Castaneda again a couple of years ago. Basically I read a few book excerpts sent to me by aforementioned internet friend and the shit blew my mind. Concepts like using the first and second attention and stopping the internal dialogue as a means to experience separate realities fascinated me. CC’s books were originally published as anthropological works, but are now generally agreed upon as fiction. I say if a “Weird Psychology” section existed at the bookstore, Castaneda’s works would help fill the shelves. Click here for a little example of Castaneda’s language and ideas, made manifest through the literary device of his Don Juan character.
Carlos Castaneda was a weird guy: ambitious, short, and bubbling over with charisma. That seems to describe so many of history’s fascinating men, now doesn’t it?! I’ve read varying personal accounts of him — some say he glowed with good vibes and oozed charm while others describe him as morally ambiguous and emotionally sadistic. I think he was a complicated man. He liked to fuck with people’s heads, and was apparently very good at it. So good in fact that he may have inspired several women of his inner circle (the “Witches,” as they were called) to commit suicide upon his death from cancer in 1998.
It’s hard to dig up much solid info on Castaneda because in 1973 he withdrew from public view to shack up with his Witches in a large home in West Los Angeles. Nary a picture exists of him, as he was all about “erasing personal history” and refused to let photos be taken of him after a certain point in his life. The following Salon.com article is the best I’ve found thus far on Castaneda, his shady life and the Witches who may have joined him upon his departure from this earthly plane. Enjoy:
The Dark Legacy of Carlos Castaneda
(one of the few pics that exist of Castaneda)
PS: It’s kind of weird the first time you access the Salon site. Bypass any opening Flash sequences, then click this link again if necessary. It’s a great, juicy article and worth the trouble!
June 20th, 2008 by Gnat
What a quote:
“The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive. To him… a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create — so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, his very breath is cut off from him. He must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency he is not really alive unless he is creating.”
June 19th, 2008 by Gnat
I LOVED all things Sid and Marty Krofft as a kiddo, so naturally the following clip is one of my faves. “I declare this pizza to be AWESOME!” Effin’ brilliant if you ask me:
June 5th, 2008 by Gnat
If you haven’t seen this vintage Butthole Surfers short film, you’ll either stone or thank me for thrusting the twisted brilliance upon yr virgin eyeballs. Thanks to the miracle of Youtube, Entering Texas is no longer out of circulation. Enjoy:
May 13th, 2008 by Gnat
This morning I was thinking of how to seamlessly write about two very unrelated things, yesterday’s earthquake in China and today’s announcement of the death of artist Robert Rauschenberg. For whatever reason I didn’t want to write about one thing without mentioning the other. While mining the internets for information and imagery relating to these two events, I came across the following photos:
Rauschenberg’s Bed (1955)
Chinese woman clears earthquake debris
What can I possibly say to connect the catastrophic deaths of over 10,000 Chinese people with the passing of a famous, elderly Abstract Expressionist turned Pop artist? I guess I can comment on the random nature of beds — how they aren’t really supposed to be art but sometimes are just that, or how they are supposed to be safe but sometimes aren’t that at all.
January 3rd, 2008 by Gnat
I knew that when I started this blog I would dedicate my first post to the goddess who is Annie Sprinkle. Shy and awkward Jewish girl turned ’70s porn star turned post-porn performance artist, Ms. Sprinkle is one of my porny pop culture heroes. Not only that, she’s one of my feminist heroes too.
I was fortunate enough to see Annie perform twice during my college years in the mid-’90s. One of these performances was a rare college campus appearance, courtesy of Annie’s mentor/former lover/collaborator/performance artist extraordinaire and at the time UT Art prof, Linda Montano. If you’re unfamiliar with Linda Montano and her amazing (and somewhat literal) body of work, do yourself a favor and check her out.
The first time I saw her perform, Annie’s show consisted largely of a slideshow accompanied by her dead-witty dialog and industry stories. This was followed by a brief burlesque-y sort of number, and topped off by her now-famous cervix display. What struck me most and left the greatest lasting impression was not the graphic nature of Annie’s show, but the radiantly positive, funny and relaxed manner in which she delivered her saucy material. This is a woman who lovingly opened herself up to display her most “private” parts for audience members just so we could each get a good look at a cervix (because most of us had never seen one, Annie said). We even could take a picture if we wanted. I wanted, and somewhere this glossy shot is buried in my belongings. If I find it I promise to post it at a later date.
I haven’t seen the pic in years, but naturally the image is burned upon my brain forever: Annie is splayed open with a speculum, her stiletto-heeled feet in stirrups on either side of the picture frame. An assistant points the beam of a flashlight towards her opening. Annie looks down at the camera with her eyes full of sparkle. I am behind the camera nervous and smiling.
