A friend from another lifetime snapped this photo on her phone a while ago, somewhere in the faceless Yankee cancer that is Northern Virginia. For those of you that have difficulty making it out, it is definitely a DeLorean with both gullwing doors wide open and a license plate that says “NO PANTS.”
Popularity: 12% [?]
So I told him that I had cheated on him while he was out of town. And you know what? He turned around and tried to use it against me!
Popularity: 17% [?]
I was talking with a programmer at work the other day about the development of the Internet and web-enabled discourse. He was saying that back then, in the ’80s and early ’90s, pretty much anyone you talked to online was going to be pretty smart — you had to be, just to know what the Internet was and how to use it.
Now the worm has turned, and it’s choking on mouthfuls of its own nutritious excrement. The very thing that’s brought so many smart people together and fostered an exchange of ideas is making our kids stupid, filling their soft little impressionable skulls with marshmallow fluff and grey dishwater.
The Tower of Babel is crumbling, people. Look at this and try to tell me I’m wrong.
The illustration above is by my talented friend David William — pretty sharp, huh?
Popularity: 13% [?]
Listen: transdimensional travel already exists. It’s not as dramatic as ripping open a hole in the fabric of space-time and shaking hands with some lizard men on the other side, or painting a pentagram in infants’ blood on the floor of a church and conjuring up a smoldering slobbering demon.
I was walking back from a bar in Clinton Hill this summer, and even though I’d had a pretty good evening, I was feeling kinda sorry for myself. I’d just moved to New York and my work had dried up, my girlfriend had dropped me, and I was sharing a bedroom with another grown man. I’d had a decent dinner and a few drinks and was flagellating myself internally for spending money, any money at all, when my resources were at such a rapid dwindle.
A breeze kicked up and a piece of paper hit my foot. I picked it up and fell through a wormhole in my own reality to a serious realness congruent to, but utterly different than my own. The letter was from a guy in prison to a friend on the outside. Although technically written in English, the words were in a language I barely spoke.
You can see the letter itself here:
Popularity: 17% [?]
Here’s a sweet treat for Friday — a bunch of Kool-Aid commercials mixed with the Jurassic 5:
Popularity: 9% [?]
I posted something last night about the worst haircut I’ve ever seen, complete with a cute little drawing to illustrate it. At about 6 pm, both BoingBoing and Gawker linked to it, increasing my traffic tenfold.
“Oh look,” I thought. “Everyone thinks I’m witty, brilliant and wonderful. It must be true if the Internet says so!”
Then I left work and got on the subway — and saw the owner of said haircut. I felt really, really bad. On the one hand, this guy was obviously seeking attention with his ‘do, and now he’s gotten it. But then again, taking cheap shots at strangers kind of sucks, I think, even if it does pay off in the dizzying sweet nectar of Internet attention.
When I got home, I saw this comment, which really made me think:
Style is a product of Risk Taking… & those of you who laugh @ people who take risks are simply too scared to be true inventors…
Popularity: 18% [?]
Brooklyn’s Francis and the Lights (free EP here) will be rocking their nervous relaxing jams at the Mercury Lounge this Saturday, January 26th with The Giraffes, Baby Dayliner and others.
They’re hands-down my favorite New York band of late — as mentioned on an earlier post:
They’re the musical equivalent of doing coke and drinking Fresca on the back of a yacht while wearing a white linen jacket.
The rhythm section is tight like the L train on a Monday morning, both drummers locked into each other perfectly with no room for error and every beat in the exact right place. Spare dual keyboards flow over and through the silky rhythms like robot bees flying over plastic flowers, and the singer’s high voice and ostentatious dance moves — delivered with occasional popped collar or shirtlessness — perfectly interact with the music to create something that is both self-consciously retro and very, very heartfelt.
It’s true, too. Their live show’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before, a jittery and confident mashup of James Brown and something from beyond the Phantom Zone. I saw the show in the video below, and it was way better than it seems here on Youtube … go on out Saturday and see ‘em for yourself if you can.
Popularity: 12% [?]
Last weekend I saw a haircut ugly and evil enough to impregnate a nun just so it could kick her down a set of steep stairs. I’ve seen some stupid haircuts in my day, rocked more than a few regrettable ‘dos my damn self. My own hair in high school was shaven on the sides and back and semi-sorta-not-really-at-all long on the top in a ‘do that would have looked like a brain handle had I been able to pull it into a ponytail. I used to wonder why girls didn’t take me seriously.
I used to pour concrete with a man whose braided mullet hung low enough to tickle the tanned top third of his ever-exposed ass. I’ve seen cuts on the subway here in New York that I found personally offensive, hairdos whose cheeky chunkiness screamed of disposable income, willful ignorance and a powerfully asexual aesthetic retardation.
I live in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, where ironic commentary on the fashion choices of the American working class has collapsed in on itself warping into a white dwarf shaped like a Mobius strip: a one-sided form that slows down light and the passage of time so aggressively that silver tights underneath ’70s running shorts seem like a good idea.
But I have never seen any shit like this.
Popularity: 16% [?]
Godzilla Witch Project. Nothing more, nothing less.
Popularity: 15% [?]
My friend Eric called me up late the other night from somewhere outside of Barcade, panting breathlessly in the cold. “Dude, don’t go to bed yet,” he said. “I’m bringing something over for you.”
And what a something it was! In its heyday, he looked like this, functioning as an expensive karaoke toy.
More photos after the jump …
Popularity: 47% [?]
