in case you kids only frequent this section and the diary, there’s been quite a bit of activity on the visual front as well. start here, work your way back. much eye candy to be had.
shall we pray for our nation? shall we relinquish control of our decisions to a concept born of vanity and fear of death? shall we impart even more power to the institution which has caused more death than any other in all of recorded history? i think not. i’ll pray for nobody.
nothing (‘cept maybe flight404) conveys the loneliness and rush of information inside an airport quite like the tyke at 11235813. hollow echoes of horrifying newscasts, desparate notes dropped from the fingers of people you’ll never meet, and a crush of decisions, all made too quickly as you rush to your gate.
(i don’t know that this is what the work is actually about. my interpretation only.)
we love mr. earls simply because he’s one straaaaaaange motherfucker. cranbrook people always have the nicest ideas. speaking of cranbrook people: laurie..? i miss you.
so it seems that mickey may have a syndication run in both korea and switzerland sometime soon. it is a small world after all. (and who knew there was a korean version of GQ?)
congratulations to warren corbitt (founding partner of one9ine) and cammi, his longtime partner in crime!
supermundane: hand-hewn imperfect beauty in an age of too many pixels polished too brightly. wander, don’t search.
what’s the most necessary tool for Mac OS X users..? why, neko, of course. i’ve had a neko on every version of my desktop for years now, and you should too. don’t know neko? she’s cute. make friends.
sometimes i feel that the words with which people find me are a perfect distillation of who i am in the context of others’ worlds. today i am relevant in these ways:
sweater queens
fastgirls
catfight art
pixie hair cut
employee review forms
voyeur
plastic dreams
body image
bitch lips
true voyeur
how to do a blowjob
czech boy love
ann coulter bitch
simon rex jerking
leo ascendant
tabby
aaliyah dance steps
(you’ll have to find the links yourself.)
pertaining to this from my bitchy boyfriend: it’s the book of oz cooper (bottom of the page), which ain’t in print no mo’. but there’s a font made from text found in its pages. thanks, hon. (oh, and i found this too. neato.)
vegetarian? hungry? me too. found some killer recipes over at the vegetarian society of the UK. fortunately stays away from the traditional: “Boil the bleedin’ thing, Margaret!”
also, if you’re in chicago, eat at cornelia’s. i did last night with su, ches, and tracy (who has no URL). terrible name and a weird fuckin’ menu which doesn’t necessarily tell anything beyond ingredients, but there are some amazing vegetarian dishes.
luggage labels: some of the loveliest examples of early 20th century typography around. takes me back to the early nineties when i was taught to draw letters in pen and ink on vellum.
thirst has, after a two-year dry spell (and worth the wait), released [****] issue three, entitled “myth.” i received my copy last friday, and it is, in a word, heartbreaking: wistful words and images by rick valicenti, chad johnston, and rob wittig.
you can buy a copy here (click the image for previews). decide quickly, though; they probably only printed 500 or so.
i’m not usually one to get all crazy over experimental typefaces. but tim donaldson’s coriander is fucking pretty. there’s another gorgeous example of his calligraphy here. almost makes me want to forgive him for designing university, the roman of which plagued me in my college years (campus store firesale on dry-transfer type leading to soul-scarring experimental works). but then again…nah.
A little girl walks into a pet shop and in the sweetest little lisp, asks, “Exthcuthe me, mithter, do you keep widdle wabbits?”
The shopkeeper kneels so that he’s on her level and asks: “Do you want a widdle white wabbit or a soft and fuwwy bwack wabbit or maybe one like that cute widdle brown wabbit over there?”
The little girl leans forward, puts her hands on her knees, looks him straight in the eye and says in a quiet voice: “I don’t think my pyfon weawwy gives a fuck.”
(courtesy of my mother, the sweet unassuming french teacher.)
am i the only one who didn’t know that fingerhut is owned by the same corporation which owns bloomingdale’s and macy’s? the hypocrisy is kinda funny: if you’re an american, where you shop supposedly counts for part of who you are. but strangely, where you shop is undifferentiated at the corporate level from where the suburban trash you hate shop. so this in effect allows marketing to negate itself as a concept. neat.
“NBC’s purchase of Telemundo is an acknowledgement by the general media that Hispanic [content] requires its own media to reach the audience the proper way.”
some people don’t think NBC’s saying that at all.
suicide bomber in isreal. more of the same. all very sad, but not what i’m interested here.
i must ask: why is it, when faced with reporting a major brouhaha of human suffering, american media always runs pictures of gorgeous people in pain?
i first noticed this with the “hot firefighter” trend that sprung up around 9/11 (so transparent), and later when focusing on hot taliban soldiers. and now…we have hot israeli guys splattered with blood. are journalists so convinced of the public’s shallowness that they think america can only feel sympathy for the beautiful? yeesh.
