Link futures are wallowing in recessionary social media sharing protocols
Friday, February 26, 2010
Hey everyone. This thing on? So, we were all over the place this week. Washington. Haiti. Beijing. Gov. Paterson‘s mansion. We took photos in the utility closet, which we called the “Hurt Locker.” Trust us, it’s funny. Not the closet itself, that place is the opposite of funny. It’s dark. Real dark.…
We dropped by Mike’s Apartment. He’s not in porno anymore, but he throws a hell of a party. Grillo’s Pickles made a cameo. Neysa Malone, the NYC street-famous singer called us with some news: “I got this new song ‘Walking Zombies.’ It’s about us against the zombies meaning everybody who is brainwashed by the media. In the video, we, the street fighters, take over. It should be out very soon!” Neysa’s been on her grind lately, and we’ll sure be keeping our eye on her this year.
“What happened to that dude, what fucking happened?”
The words rang out from my friend Zac Greer’s shiny, bic’d up head. Al Pacino was on television, one of many stars urging Americans to donate to One.com. The actor looked creaky and old, haggard. Zac was not exactly paying attention, but became saddened. What happened to Pacino, the strapping young colt of “The Panic in Needle Park”? What happened to Serpico, to Bobby Deerfield, to Glen Ross? Zac wondered aloud. We laughed, but five years since the ad’s air date, we’re still none of us sure.
I felt the same way Sunday night watching Canadian Olympic hockey team suffer an ignoble 5-3 home loss at American hands. What happened to the Canadian team, made up of All-Stars and Hall of Famers both? Where did our legs go? Why wasn’t there any fire from the point? Where was the development factory of years past, short and tall Quebecers, broad hosers and technically-citizens from British Columbia? What happened?
After Watching Beavis and Butthead watch Suicidal Tendencies Today
Monday, February 22, 2010
Sometimes it takes fewer words to say what needs to be said. I could spend an hour carping on the brilliance of one of my favorite shows, “Beavis and Butthead.” Some swear by “The Simpsons,” others, “Seinfeld.” Just as with music, I gravitate to Mike Judge’s product over others.
The titular characters are the crown jewel of the show — indeed, of any show on television. It is hard to believe that employees wrote their dialog for nothing more than money, that the two teens did not arrive fully formed. Same goes for Suicidal Tendencies. When the world was created, so too were they, only they bloomed later, around the ’80s. The best band from California, the second-best two-era band (after the Cro-Mags), the baddest dudes to wear Vans. It’s not whether this video is the best of all worlds or isn’t. It’s the truth, and “it speaks for itself.”
Taking the Bull by the throat at 1901 West Madison Street
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Benny, have a seat. No you may not. Keep it on. Benny, why did you disturb those men today? Which men? You know who we’re talking about, Benny.1 That’s right, Messrs. Carter and Combs, very good.
Now, Benny, we’ve talked about this — about the character. But certain men deserve respect, even from a character, don’t you think? Benny! You put that mask back on! I don’t wanna see your face right now, I am not in the mood!
Benny used to be played by Barry Anderson. With such similar names, mascot and maskee lost any individual distinction in the Bulls organization even before the events of July 2, 2006.
Have you been into the John Varvatos store lately, at 315 Bowery?
Did you feel a presence, someone or something, looming nearby? For those familiar with the history of the address, it is a troubling ordeal even to pass by on the sidewalk to see what’s become of one of New York City’s most fabled blocks, never mind the specters who haunt its vicinity. I refer, of course, to the skinheads of New York past. Ghosts nowadays, they used to stomp through this city like wild mastodons, rendering entire neighborhoods safe, or unsafe, depending on who you were.
Nate Turbow is a cartoonist and a DJ living in New York City. Follow him on twitter for updates on the party of life, or if you ever need a little extra motivation to do something awful.
Valuing the Face on the coin and bill, (Grover) Cleveland Style
Monday, February 15, 2010
As in American presidents. Israeli presidents don’t do much. Well, most don’t do much. Canadians have governor generals, who do even less. That said, I will be celebrating in proxy by watching Adrienne Clarkson Presents.
Assessing what's icy, what isn't online for Week 6, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Pitchers and catchers report in less than a week, which means that soon enough, we’ll be in the throes of the wonderful slow ticking that is a baseball season. I can’t wait. No discredit to my Canadian roots, but PFPs far outweigh skeleton and bobsled. Winter’s over for me. That said, the best hockey of the decade — non-Ottawa Senators division — begins in earnest on Tuesday. The olympic game is faster paced, with no TV timeouts, and flows better, or at least more, than its NHL counterpart. It’s like the Phoenix Suns of ice hockey, and is enough to sway some from the Don Cherry view of post-up, old-time hockey.
There’s plenty of room for the grand old game, and I’m a bit disappointed that a real hockey powerhouse, one with legit star power, was left off the docket.
He didn’t get the “American Gangster” soundtrack, but wrote a record anyway. On Sunday, Jay-Z likely missed out on halftime to The Who, but sang a joint anyways. Why not? I would have been more into a classics set from UNLV, but it might be a better idea to save that kind of forward-thinking for a Patriots-Buccaneers Superbowl.
Josh Feola's long look at the best of the rest of the Internet for week 5, 2010
Friday, February 5, 2010
Our good friend Josh Feola, from Seravia, helps out with some heavy lifting as we try and get ourselves incorporated.
Science marches on to increasingly meta and postmodern frontiers. This week a few lazy chemists created self-stirring liquids. Meanwhile, a Japanese physicist with a higher ambition to laziness set the ball rolling on the one thing besides flying cars that we all thought would have arrived by this millennium: teleportation. Actually, his achievement (which if I understand correctly is basically just an idea I’ve also heard explained by the wisdom cube) is more philosophy than physics. Basically, you have these theoretical particles floating around the universe, that you measure somehow, and then “the measurement on the first particle injects quantum energy into the system …. [and] by carefully choosing the measurement to do on the second particle, it is possible to extract the original energy.” Dude. If we continue at this rate we may soon surpass plants in quantum efficiency.
Back for more, are you? Wielding our camera like a rusty machete, we crudely bushwhack further into L.L. Bean’s hunting section to bring you photographic evidence of some very special products. Dog boots, magnum honkers, and a cornucopia of wild animal scents. I bet this girl’s mom is on Bean’s mailing list … where else is she going to find shit to stuff Wolfie’s stocking with for Christmas? We’ve also captured some historical images from the company’s 1912 Cafe. But you don’t have to go back in time to find a good pair of boots — Bean’s Freeport store is open 24/7, no kidding, and they still make ‘em like they used to.1
Footnotes
For the most part. Some products are no longer made in the USA. But that's quibbling...
L.L. Bean caught creeping when home for the holidays
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
click for slideshow
You know how it is when you’re home, for the holidays, and you just need to get the fuck out of the house?
Welcome to Freeport, Maine, famous for its outlet shopping and being home to the great American outdoor wear and boot manufacturer, L.L. Bean. Freeport is a coastal town in Southern Maine, though its retail center, bisected by Route 1, is not oriented on the waterfront. It is home to the world’s tallest Native American (pictured above) and Joan Benoit Samuelson, the Olympic marathon champion. There is an area of land protected by the Audubon Society called the Mast Landing Bird Sanctuary located just one mile east of downtown Freeport. The preserve is oddly juxtaposed with L.L. Bean, who sells everything you or your dog would ever need to trap, confuse, or assassinate any type of foul that might even consider sticking their beak in Mast Landing. I don’t know why you’d want to do that, though, so just take it easy, man.
I’ll always remember the day I walked into my best friend Tom’s room about a decade ago, and he held up an album called Balance of Terror. He looked at me with an excited glance and said, “Dude … just listen”. He put the needle on the record, and the next minute was pure bliss in the form of ridiculous, ignorant, hard riffing. It was a harder intro than anything I’d ever heard. It sounded like it was written specifically to blow up your mind, to rile up your senses and get your body to fill up with adrenaline, forcing you to go outside and punch someone in the face for doing you wrong. It was “Why Must They” by Wrecking Crew, Boston’s late-80s answer to Agnostic Front. I had never heard the band, but right then and there I knew I’d never forget them.
Matt LaForge flies the friendly skies with Phils MVP shortstop's mom-dukes
Monday, February 1, 2010
To the list of things I have in common with Jimmy Rollins, one may add the fact that, Saturday last, we were both of us on Grand Cayman’s Seven Mile Beach: he at the Ritz Carlton, on the occasion of his wedding; I at the nearby Ocean Club, trying, vainly, to my and my dad’s chagrin, to convince the bartender to make me a milkshake. I didn’t come to know of this coincidence until two days later, when, while seated in the holding area adjacent to GCM departure gate 3, waiting to board a Charlotte-bound USAIR flight, there occurred the following:
Slightly less surprising was that [speedy Phillies outfielder] flies commercial.
"Like this one here — 'Are you carrying diseases or foreign agents?' If you're the kind of guy who carries guns and diseases on a plane, are you rewarded for your honesty?"
