Saturday, May 17, 2008

Absolut Truth.

Orange Sneakers.
Part II

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Rainbow.

therainbowhitch.com

therainbowknot.net
therainbowknot.org

Walk-Ins Discouraged.


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Now Booking 2009
Salon

Descanse en Pace
Mickey

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Friday, May 16, 2008

Obit.

This Day in History
1965












SpaghettiOs first sold...

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Birthday Brosnan's Belly!

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Birthday Bernardo!
1940

Bernardo Bertolucci
Parma, Italy
Director: 1900, The Last Emperor

Happy Birthday Mickey!

wherever you are...

Thursday, May 15, 2008

BL*

BLondes.

BLunt.
BLur.
BLind.
BLank.

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Why can't you raise

$1,000,000 within 30 days by having 1,000,000 people send in $1?
How fucking hard could that be?

And what's with that doubling one penny for 31 days?

It can't be that difficult!

What would happen if...

someone hijacked a LIVE interview and outed Baby Arbus?

6º of Separation

me > Dovima > Richard Avedon

(or, better still, meeting him at The Whitney!)

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Large-format birthday!

Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Studio 488 – The Dark Side!

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This Day in History
1968
Once you go Mac...

The Beatles announce the formation of Apple Corporation.

This Day in History
1973
Who's laughing now?

Gold hits record $102.50 an ounce in London
.
.
.
.
.
Rowan and Martin's Laugh-In, last airs on NBC-TV
.
.
.
.
.
and that's the twooth!

Studio 488: Outdoors

Mickey + Larry

Blame it ALL ON THEM.

If they hadn't shown me the Diane Arbus MONOGRAPH, I wouldn't be the whackjob I am today.

Now, get me the manager!

Miles Away.


-

The History of Photography with Mickey


Ya think they go to the same hairdresser?

The History of Photography with Mickey


How the hell does she manage to hold up all THAT with one finger?

JMM
16 May 1945 – 14 May 2008

The master with blue hair, delirious when your insurance covers your ass, and your car payments, and the only one who could make retail and restaurant employees the world over tremble with 
four.
simple.
words:

GET ME THE MANAGER!


Got 4 Minutes?

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

NASA's "menage a trois!"

"Where's my birthday cake?"

Happy birthday, Stevie Wonder!

Sharleen Spiteri
All the Times I Cried

Robert Rauschenberg
Timothy Greenfield-Sanders

DEAD! at 82
Robert Rauschenberg























Retroactive I
Artist: Robert Rauschenberg
(American, 1925 – 2008)
Oil on canvas
1963

The Wadsworth Atheneum
Hartford (Connecticut)


Robert Rauschenberg was one of the first post-war American artists to reintroduce popular imagery into contemporary art. In 1962, Rauschenberg began to apply "found" media images (from Life, National Geographic and other picture magazines) to canvas, using commercially prepared photographic silk screens. Retroactive I is widely considered one of the finest of Rauschenberg's silkscreen paintings, and reflects the artist's ongoing interest in the random connectedness of commonplace scenes and objects. Here, as in much of Rauschenberg's work, seemingly incongruous images are juxtaposed to create a loosely thematic vignette that evokes the complexity and richness of the world around us. Viewed together the familiar images of President John F. Kennedy, Sunkist oranges, and an American astronaut floating in space evoke the prosperity and optimism of 1960s America. Central to the work is an iconic portrayal of the attractive young president, a symbol of progress and promise. Nothing, however, can separate the power of this image from its emblematic reading as the embodiment of a national tragedy.

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Monday, May 12, 2008

Inspired by true events.


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Down the toilet!
Barbwa WawWaw

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Frankly, it's his birthday.

Coney Island
Artist: Frank Stella, American,
born 1936
Gift of Larom B. Munson, B.A. 1951
1971.38

Oh.
And it's in storage.
Yale University Art Gallery

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Why I see what you don't.



I had quite the experience, last Thursday evening, in New Haven. Given the fact that I have to live to the over-ripened age of 96 in order to, today, be considered "middle-aged" I felt the long-absent "itch" to hit a few clubs, hopefully to hear some great music, at a minimum.

I decided to scratch said itch, with a catch: I would use my new (-ish) Canon EOS Rebel XTi with its 18 – 55mm auto-focus lens. And its flash. And its "auto-everything" feature.

I'll get to the end of the story, before I delve into the meat of the matter:

I shoot faster than the Rebel can recover. Pushing the trigger with all my right index finger was worth, I kept seeing the word BUSY in its various LED incarnations. Damn. BUSY. It might as well have said "don't bother right now."

But I did manage to snag a few shots, albeit they didn't come out exactly as I saw them. To wit: I didn't REALLY want the same view as the rest of the guys (girls, whatever) which would have put me front-and-center, shooting at approximately 5' 6" (eye level, for me) seeing what everyone else was seeing. I didn't like being in front. The drag queens, and everyone else, would cater to me as soon as they saw the lens fixed in their direction.

So I literally crawled on the floor (wasn't the first time, probably won't be the last), and took up residence on said floor, right in front of the DJ booth, which put me directly behind all the action, and on the receiving end of a number of spotlights.

What I saw? Rim-lit drag queens casting great shadows in reverse perspective across a dirty wooden floor. See-through undergarments. And a ton of backlit people casting equally wild shadows across the increasingly dirty (and covered with crumpled dollar bills!) wooden floor. Great stuff. Really great stuff.

I think I would have needed a film rating (ISO, ASA, speed) of 12,800 or 25,000, but I don't know how high the camera settings go. (No, I didn't read the manual. It didn't have good pictures with pointers.) I might have been able to capture a few shots, but I kept thinking of the good ol' days when I could pull what I could from the film (or push) and reverse the process in the processing, and then make magic in the orange-hued darkroom...maybe pulling a few prints for a night's work. That's presuming the image was in focus, the decisive moment happening at the precise moment the shutter fired, etc etc ad infinitum, ad nauseum.

I've managed a few. I seem to do better with the Mamiya C220, normal lens (150mm?) with 120 color-neg roll film (yes, that is redundant) at the outdoor T-Dances.

What did I get?

Lots of "in my face" photographs (which I was very surprised at when I reviewed them the next afternoon) of tattoos, crotches, belts, faces, drinks, shot boys, cracks etc.

But what (didn't) surprise(d) me was the series taken on the floor.

Think major front-light flash. Triggered on-time, and on-target.

The photograph does lie.

What I saw, I did not get. What I got, you did not see.

No back-lighting, lots of wide-angle distortion, and just a few too many "in-betweens" which I define as the moment "in between" that which I saw coming, and that which I ended up capturing. Something "in-between" what I wanted and what I got.

You know: BUSY.

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This Day in History
Miami 1997

I wish this was my photograph, but, sadly, it isn't!

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This Day in History
Ka-BOOM!

George Carlin
The 7 Words You Can't Say on TV!
But you can read on the 'net!

I love words. I thank you for hearing my words.
I want to tell you something about words that I think is important.
They're my work, they're my play, they're my passion.
Words are all we have, really. We have thoughts but thoughts are fluid.
then we assign a word to a thought and we're stuck with that word for
that thought, so be careful with words. I like to think that the same
words that hurt can heal, it is a matter of how you pick them.
There are some people that are not into all the words.
There are some that would have you not use certain words.
There are 400,000 words in the English language and there are 7
of them you can't say on television. What a ratio that is.
399,993 to 7. They must really be bad. They'd have to be outrageous
to be seperated from a group that large. All of you over here,you 7,
Bad Words. That's what they told us they were, remember?
"That's a bad word!" No bad words, bad thoughts, bad intentions,
and words. You know the 7, don't you, that you can't say on television?
"Shit, Piss, Fuck, Cunt, CockSucker, MotherFucker, and Tits"
Those are the heavy seven. Those are the ones that'll infect your soul,
curve your spine, and keep the country from winning the war.
"Shit, Piss, Fuck, Cunt, CockSucker, MotherFucker, and Tits"
Wow! ...and Tits doesn't even belong on the list. That is such a friendly
sounding word. It sounds like a nickname, right? "Hey, Tits, come here,
man. Hey Tits, meet Toots. Toots, Tits. Tits, Toots." It sounds like a
snack, doesn't it? Yes, I know, it is a snack. I don't mean your sexist
snack. I mean New Nabisco Tits!, and new Cheese Tits, Corn Tits,
Pizza Tits, Sesame Tits, Onion Tits, Tater Tits. "Betcha Can't Eat Just
One." That's true. I usually switch off. But I mean, that word does
not belong on the list. Actually none of the words belong on the list,
but you can understand why some of them are there. I'm not
completely insensetive to people's feelings. I can understand why
some of those words got on the list, like CockSucker and
MotherFucker. Those are heavyweight words. There is a lot going on
there. Besides the literal translation and the emotional feeling.
I mean, they're just busy words. There's a lot of syllables to contend
with. And those Ks, those are agressive sounds. They just jump out at
you like "coCKsuCKer, motherfuCKer. coCKsuCKer, motherfuCKer."
It's like an assualt on you. We mentioned Shit earlier, and 2 of the
other 4-letter Anglo-Saxon words are Piss and Cunt, which go
together of course. A little accedental humor there. The reason that
Piss and Cunt are on the list is because a long time ago, there were
certain ladies that said "Those are the 2 I am not going to say. I
don't mind Fuck and Shit but 'P' and 'C' are out.", which led to such
stupid sentences as "Okay you fuckers, I'm going to tinckle now."
And, of course, the word Fuck. I don't really, well that's more
accedental humor, I don't wanna get into that now because I think
it takes to long. But I do mean that. I think the word Fuck is a very
imprortant word. It is the beginning of life, yet it is a word we use to
hurt one another quite often. People much wiser than I am said,
"I'd rather have my son watch a film with 2 people making love
than 2 people trying to kill one another. I, of course, can agree. It is
a great sentence. I wish I knew who said it first. I agree with that but
I like to take it a step further. I'd like to substitute the word Fuck for
the word Kill in all of those movie cliches we grew up with. "Okay,
Sherrif, we're gonna Fuck you now, but we're gonna Fuck you slow."
So maybe next year I'll have a whole fuckin' ramp on the N word.
I hope so. Those are the 7 you can never say on television, under any
circumstanses. You just cannot say them ever ever ever. Not even
clinically. You cannot weave them in on the panel with Doc, and Ed,
and Johnny. I mean, it is just impossible. Forget tHose 7. They're out.
But there are some 2-way words, those double-meaning words.
Remember the ones you giggled at in sixth grade? "...And the cock
CROWED 3 times" "Hey, tha cock CROWED 3 times. ha ha ha ha. Hey, it's in
the bible. ha ha ha ha. There are some 2-way words, like it is okay for
Kirk Youdi to say "Roberto Clametti has 2 balls on him.", but he can't
say "I think he hurt his balls on that play, Tony. Don't you? He's holding
them. He must've hurt them, by God." and the other 2-way word that
goes with that one is Prik. It's okay if it happens to your finger. You
can prik your finger but don't finger your prik. No,no.

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Happy Birthday (x7) George Carlin!

1. Shit. Another birthday.
2. Hey, it's my birthday...don't go pissing all over my cake!
3. Do you believe that cunt didn't give me a birthday gift?
4. Fuck. I'm how old?
5. No you cocksucker. I'm not 80. Yet.
6. You cheap motherfucker. That's what you got me for my birthday?
7. At this age, MY tits are sagging to the floor!

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Empty.

Ego operor non requiro vos iustus quisnam vos adsuesco assuesco exsisto.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Haunting Me.

I found myself
By circumstance
Across a room
Where people dance
And quite by chance
[He] danced right next to me...

(I don't miss you, just who you used to be. You don't ring true, so please, stop calling me.)

They said I had to go to Ballys
I said no, No, NO!

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The Strangers' Neighbors
The Family Album of Lucybelle Crater

Knock knock? Anyone home?



Somehow, with the increase of "home invasions" it's really difficult to look forward to a movie based on a true story.

I wish I felt this way about "romance" movies. That they were based on true stories.

Sadly, they aren't.

Sadly, this is.

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Your momma says you don't!
And your daddy says you won't...

And I'm burnin' up inside
Ain't no way I'm gonna lose out this time!

5 kids, 5 versions...one for each!





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4 Minutes
Madonna + Justin
Live@Roseland


Better vid quality...aurally-speaking!

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Spelling, 2008.

How do YOU spell FUCKING LOSERS?

K-A-R-D-A-S-H-I-A-N.

"I'm just really one who doesn't drink alcohol..."
"We're all really busy with our businesses..."
"I travel so much...I don't have time to date."
"Modeling is such hard work."

The Birthday Boy's 1921 Self-Portrait

The Birthday Boy's Mother!

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The Basket of Bread
1926

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She was 32, and has a name...

The photograph that has become known as "Migrant Mother" is one of a series of photographs that Dorothea Lange made of Florence Owens Thompson and her children in February or March of 1936 in Nipomo, California. Lange was concluding a month's trip photographing migratory farm labor around the state for what was then the Resettlement Administration. In 1960, Lange gave this account of the experience:
I saw and approached the hungry and desperate mother, as if drawn by a magnet. I do not remember how I explained my presence or my camera to her, but I do remember she asked me no questions. I made five exposures, working closer and closer from the same direction. I did not ask her name or her history. She told me her age, that she was thirty-two. She said that they had been living on frozen vegetables from the surrounding fields, and birds that the children killed. She had just sold the tires from her car to buy food. There she sat in that lean- to tent with her children huddled around her, and seemed to know that my pictures might help her, and so she helped me. There was a sort of equality about it. (From: Popular Photography, Feb. 1960).
The images were made using a Graflex camera. The original negatives are 4x5" film. It is not possible to determine on the basis of the negative numbers (which were assigned later at the Resettlement Administration) the order in which the photographs were taken.

There are no known restrictions on the use of Lange's "Migrant Mother" images.

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On being a mother...

3 mothers who should have ABORTED!

Not that I needed 3 MORE REASONS to be gay, but DAMN!

I really wonder if these bitches know how vacuous and whored out they are.

On the bright side?



THEY AIN'T BREEDING!

(yet!)

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