RAH do BSG: a Radius and Helena tribute.

CAUTION! SPOILER ALERT! This BSG tribute is so grand, it may be worthy of its own show…

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Don’t Be Sad, Owen! Your Face Loves Itself

After being inspired by this portrait of Dubya, I thought I would do a literal rendition of how I think Owen Wilson’s face is basically having sex with itself. Cheer up, Owen; you’re uniquely handsome and, after all, love is staring you in the face.
**Disclaimer! These ‘naughty bits’ are PROSTHETICS!**

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Like Easter, but every 2-4 weeks!

The system will keep finding ways to keep women too distracted and preoccupied with the way they look to amount to much more than an overly-decorated Easter Egg with a short shelf-life: dyed, stenciled, painted, put in a basket for all to see, and then cracked open and tossed out with the scraps, never getting the chance to grow past the yolkie chick stage into a mature hen:

So, considering the “Naughty” category of “pubic hair art” has been flooded by the market by companies like Nads, I’ve come up with a few more suggestions that I think fulfill the under-represented “Nice” category:

“SEXY” is NOT A RIGHT….


MILF CULTURE MUST DIE.

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My Life’s Work ~ a Radius and Helena plug

So when I’m not procrastinating I sometimes help with the visual arts side of the band, Radius and Helena. Here’s a picture I took from some of our artsy-er shoots:


and:

But our piece de résistance is this promo vid:

which is, of course, a shot-for-shot remake of Space 1999, episode 1. Oops, I’ve now revealed myself as a geek.

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Paris Hilton the New Picasso?

She sees the world through the eyes of a child. Not since Picasso has the art world seen such genius. The way she disregards the rules of perspective, her insistence on labeling everything in the composition and adding prose alongside the visuals, the haphazard use of negative space…’Tis true talent to render her traumatic experience with such innocence and naivité.

Below are some of her lesser-known masterpieces:

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Is that tattoo an homage to her weak bladder?

GADS! I’m teleported back to that time in grad school when I sat, silently biting my fist, as my professor praised a student for her ‘brilliant’ idea of writing an essay on the ‘genius’ of the rhizomatic structure of Radiohead’s website.  And people wonder why red wine is my friend and confidante…

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Mariah Carey and The Cowardly Lion from “The Wizard of Oz”

+

EQUALS…

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Artist Admiration Station: Kerry Wright Zentner

One of my favourite Toronto artists, Kerry Wright Zentner, is the featured “Artist of the Week” at MONDOmagazine.net. Read the interview here. For now, I leave you with a selection of creature masterpieces by the artist himself. Congratulations, Kerry!

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De-Evolution of Retro Style

Retro is always in. But in the past year, it’s been in in a very particular way. Doo-wop and 50s girls style defines musicians like Amy Winehouse (signature beehive) and the Pipettes (another female-fronted band); Christina Aguilera goes further, evoking the Company B style of the WWII era. I can’t help but feel, however, that in this era of Googlism, and complete lack of historical contexts off which to play, the irony of retro is now lost. Just because Winehouse says ‘fuck’ in her best Nina Simone impersonation, or just because the Pipettes look like they’re sassy chicks who say the other ‘f’ word (feminism), doesn’t make the parody subversive (not that they’re necessarily setting out to do so). In fact, I feel like this fake nostalgia we all have for poodle skirts and red lipstick is part of a seething, bubbling fascism that is a ‘no-no’ to discuss in the enlightened West… Thus I present my De-Evolution of Retro Style: A Descent into Fascism, Racism and Mysogyny, Again.

So the following are lyrics from Doris Day, Amy Winehouse and The Pipettes. They all confirm that notion that “boys will be boys” and, well…can’t live with them, can’t live without them…tee hee!

Read the lyrics to “A Guy is a Guy” by Doris Day (1951)

I walked down the street like a good girl should
He followed me down the street like I knew he would
Because a guy is a guy wherever he may be
So listen and I’ll tell you what this fella did to me

I walked to my house like a good girl should
He followed me to my house like I knew he would
Because a guy is a guy wherever he may be
So listen while I tell you what this fella did to me

I never saw the boy before
So nothin’ could be sillier
At closer range his face was strange
But his manner was familiar

So I walked up the stairs like a good girl should
He followed me up the stairs like I knew he would
Because a guy is a guy wherever he may be
So listen and I’ll tell you what this fella did to me

I stepped to my door like a good girl should
He stopped at my door like I knew he would
Because a guy is a guy wherever he may be
So listen while I tell you what this fella did to me

He asked me for a good-night kiss
I said, “It’s still good day”
I would have told him more except
His lips got in the way

So I talked to my ma like a good girl should
And Ma talked to Pa like I knew she would
And they all agreed on a married life for me
The guy is my guy wherever he may be

So I walked down the aisle like a good girl should
He followed me down the aisle like I knew he would
Because a guy is a guy wherever he may be
And now you’ve heard the story of what someone did to me

And that’s what he did to me

Amy Winehouse’s

“What It Is About Men”

Understand once he was a family man
so surely I would never, ever go through it first hand
Emulate all the shit my mother hated
I can’t help but demostrate my Freudian fate
My alibi for taking your guy
history repeats itself, it fails to die
and animal agression is my downfall
I don’t care ’bout what you got I wanted all

It’s bricked up in my head, it’s shoved under my bed
and I question myself again: what is it ’bout men?
My destructive side has grown a mile wide
and I question myself again: what is it ’bout men?

I’m nurturing, I just wanna do my thing
and I’ll take the wrong man as naturally as I sing
and I’ll save my tears for uncovering my fears
for behavioural patters that stick over the years

It’s bricked up in my head, it’s shoved under my bed
and I question myself again: what is it ’bout men?
My destructive side has grown a mile wide
and I question myself again: what is it ’bout men?

Feminist Complaints, The Pipettes

Broke my heart, what a shame
Played the field, but all game
Your hands lingered for too long
Teasing touch was very strong

That night you left with her in tow
Contributing to my feminist woes

Feminist woe, feminist woe
For feminist cunts, feminist cunts, feminist cunts
Oh, oh, oh

Broke my heart, what a shame
Played away, but all game
That night you left with her in tow
Contributing to my feminist woes

Feminist woe, feminist woe
For feminist cunts, feminist cunts, feminist cunts
Oh, oh, oh

That night I knew that you had been untrue
So what? What? What can I do?

Broke my heart, what a shame
Played the field, but all game

He broke her heart

COPYCATS!

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Hidden Gem: Frostitution Bakery

Pop art meets delicious sweets. Here are just a few samples from the most talented pastry chef in Canada. Not an overstatement!

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This calls for a trip to the deli

Peeing must be a bitch.

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Prepare to get see-sick.

Welcome to Keep it Foolish, Yeah?. For my first post, I thought I’d test the waters with a portrait of our ship’s captain, Mr. Uncle. He will be our captain through the rough seas of the absurd everyday. He is our gentle reminder that life is a meaningless vessel; that the more we observe, the more we take in, the less we learn.

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