Hmmm...Strange behaviors, weird costumes, I MUST be at work...allow me to follow up with the paint by numbers theme of yesterday, why not a paint by number personalized kit of your own? Instead of a sad clown, how about your boss as a sad clown? No more boring 'three kittens with a ball of yarn', what about 'grandma with three balls of yarn and a kitten head', you can be your very own paint by number, Eric Fischl.
Oh and how bizarre is it that 2 bombs were found at Ikea stores in the Netherlands, and today, a bomb threat to their store in Budapest. Frankly, I think somebody got a hold of some bad Glogg.
The brainchild of Creative Director Joerg Koch, 032c is a new tabloid-sized fanzine dedicated to the celebration of ideas. Each issue provides a forum of debate by following a simple formula: 'They pose a question and get a multitude of answers back from a variety of contributors, i.e. 'What is worth destroying', 'What is Professionalism', contributors include; Raf Simons/fashion designer, Hans Ulrich Obrist/curator, Mario Testino/photographer, Chicks on Speed, Honey Suckle Company/ fashion-art collective, Work in Progress/design agency, Jesko Fezer/architect, Michael Schmidt, Carsten Nicolai/Raster-Noton, Heji Shin, Markus Weisbeck/Surface, Daido Moriyama, Caroline Evans, Niklas Maak, Mark Hooper, Yona Friedman, Eugene Thacker etc. Hard copies at fine book stores and newsstands, several tasty tidbits online. If you are still bored Mute records, Daniel Miller has an incredibly cool monthly radio show on the German site 'Radio EINS' titled The Miller Hour. Items include Stereolab's Moogie Wonderland, Neu, Negativland and other such varieties, have fun, enjoy listen.
3:56 PM :
Wednesday, December 04, 2002
The lunatic, the lover, and the poet are of imagination all compact...
And, if you recognized that quote immediately, you are clearly much sharper than I am. You see, I didn't even glaze over or smirk when asked by a student, if perhaps I knew anything of 'Cubanism'. Panic stricken running through issues of Art Forum in my head, I've been good, I've kept up, the litany of Cuban painters; Ayon, Bravo, Pelaez, Lam, Manuel...I'm starting to feel like a total 'pendejo'...and then it hits me, when he prompts me with 'Picasso'. My brain clicks over several times, between Counter Reformation and Cyberpunk. He means 'Cubism'...pause, I wasn't fractured, I was re-fractured, distilled and otherwise dismembered, thats a joke by the way, Word Up. Then again if I were an art 'ism' I would surely be a neo-geo-po-mo-homo. I have to say the question of the week was;'What Art School did Monet go to? Answer? Opting out of the traditional path of 'l'�cole des Artistes' he enrolled in 'Gleyre's Avant-Garde salon' where he formed a life-long friendship with Auguste Renoir. Hey now, don't think I"m an 'Art-Fag' or dare to call me an 'Art-Snob', I believe every man is a Rembrandt. The Smithsonian's National Museum of American History has mounted a 'Paint by Number' exhibit. This particularly American pastime invited people who who had never before held a paintbrush to enter a world of art and creativity and produce some wacky shit.
When an algorithm is an ass, the saga of the TIVO that techno-profiles you as a gay man who watches too much television. Meanwhile a so-called homophobic Yahoo ad causes uproar in U.K.
It's 8 degrees here today, I'm horned, hungry and my workout partner better be on time today, cause I'm ready to do some damage.
3:07 PM :
Monday, December 02, 2002
Michael's immense courage is matched only by his tremendous talent, St. Francis indeed! Whether or not you have a secular or non-secular view of the world, the desire to build community and aid ones fellow man is a fantastic goal. Now on another note, say, in an imaginary life, if I were invited to share Thanksgiving with friends or family, asked to stand and declare what I am thankful for, I think I would have to go with the idea of being a Queer, because it allows me to utilize the term 'scrumptious' when describing a turkey.
6:26 PM :
I one, I two, I three, I alpha fidelis charged out and hung sideways to dry. Oh fourteen hundred hours, a wake up call, it's good to be back home. The holiday was great except for the cold, the dirt, the cold, the mud, the cold damn-it. Mostly in the air, endurance check, hit the ground running, sidewinder obstacle course, and seriously shitty food. Moments of incredible quiet shattered by fire and run on sentences. I'm thinking SHIT; dreaming only of sleep and a hot shower.
3:18 PM :
