Dick Captured by KGB

In keeping with this week's (year's?) penis theme, here is another one for ya--painted on a drawbridge facing the windows of FSB (née KGB) headquarters by Russian art-warriors Voina.

The folks at Voina have also thrown cats at McDonald's employees, staged a pantomime orgy at the Biology Museum, and generally just given the Putin/Medvedev camp the finger as many times as possible, in front of as many people as possible. [Further reading from The Independent. -Ed.]

As a result, Voina are of course on the lam or being beaten by thugs in a damp prison somewhere, but you gotta hand it to them for their Extreme Creativity in the Face of Thinly-Veiled Totalitarianism, which should be an award category next year in one of those self-congratulatory pageants that happen all the time.

Now, I think it's important to clarify that I am not saying defacing public property or throwing cats at innocent people are good things to do in any situation; what I AM saying is that they are far from the worst things you can do to draw attention to the fact that hundreds of millions of your countrymen are getting fucked by the cigar-smoking, vodka-swilling, mother-nature-raping Russian oligarchy every second.

Carry on, comrades!

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Visual Chocolate

A few photographs from American-cum-Frenchie William Klein, for your pleasure this Monday afternoon:

All images copyright William Klein

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What if Spiderman was a chiseled, 35 year-old man with pimples?

Who liked to use his powers to spy on women changing their clothes with the curtains open?

And sometimes had powers he couldn't control...

Especially at night!

Oh, James Cameron--you might have just redeemed yourself for Titanic and Avatar.

Might. I'll let you know for sure once I've had a few years to think about it...

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Wall Animation

Minutes are more precious than ever these days, I know, but you should spend ten of yours on this at some point this week:



[Go full-screen on this guy]

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Exclusive Underwater Footage from the Gulf of Mexico:

Just as I thought--tragic.

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It's Hard Out There for an Artist

Say it ain't so, Charlie!

I know I'm not in a position to say I would turn down hundreds of thousands of dollars for a few weeks work, but...are things really that bad that the guy who wrote Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind, Adaptation, Being John Malkovich, and Confessions of a Dangerous Mind has to whore himself out to Kung-Fu Panda and fucking Shrek?

That is like Pablo Picasso feeling the need to help out General Mills by drawing Count Chocula in 1971, which I don't believe he did, thankfully.

Kaufman musta blown his nest egg on Synecdoche, New York, which--I'm just gonna go right out there and say it--I actually liked. For about the first 90 minutes anyway...

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Coffee, Booze, or Benzedrine?

I guess it depends on what you're writing, what kind of chemistry you got goin' on in your body naturally--but what is most interesting about the list below is how unsurprising it is that so many writers depend/ed on some kind of drug in order to be productive.

Believe me, I can relate--if you knew how many horse tranquilizers I was snorting every day, your puny little unenlightened mind would explode.

(courtesy Lapham's Quarterly)

Most of these associations are not terribly surprising, but Elizabeth Barrett Browning on laudanum? That one caught me off guard.

Good for her.

Bad for us:

Until the 20th century, laudanum was available over-the-counter, despite the fact that it contains opium, morphine, and codeine. Today, only infants born to heroin addicts or people with Guinness-record diarrhea can get permission to have a taste of that bitter delight.

Even more reason to try that muy picante salsa...


Dessert:
Much like laudanum, Benzedrine sounds like it was a whole lotta fun as long as you didn't know what it was doing to you in the long run...

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They Call Them Masters for a Reason

Ladies and gentlemen, if you haven't met him already, I give you the pleasure of introducing you to the work of Richard Avedon.

Enjoy.

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Watermelon Deathstar

For your consideration.

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Asian Arnold?

Check out the rest of these cool movie posters from Ghana.

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I Mean--Ya Gotta Feed the Monkey, Right?!

This just in:
Annie Leibovitz may be a raging cokehead with holes in her purse and the financial savvy of Donald Trump.

Why the hell else would a woman who earns over $3 million a year need to take out a $24 million loan she will never be able to pay back without selling her entire catalog?

Better yet, how will her three children ride her coattails for the rest of their lives if they lose the right to her future royalties?

I'm really worried...

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What Recession?

It's nice to know that no matter how tight international funds may be, there's always room in somebody's budget not only to pay a man who is not even a painter to paint pictures he never intends to sell (and might even throw away), but also to rent a beautiful building in Venice for him to do it in (and fly him and his subject there, put them up, feed them...).

Now, don't get me wrong--I think it's a somewhat fascinating project and might even result in some good art, if by accident. If somebody were doing it in his or apartment, garage, or studio and had an intended purpose for the resulting paintings, I'd be all for it.

But this is ridiculous.

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Holy Toledo! I Guess Things Aren't That Bad After All!

For the rich.

The deceased fashion designer Yves Saint Laurent's art collection sold at auction for USD$249 million. Most pieces were sold at the highest estimate--some for twice what Christie's expected.

Hmmm...something tells me the private homes of all those executives whose companies are getting bailouts were doing some shopping yesterday! I bet all the Manhattan 'people who tell rich people where to hang overpriced paintings they buy' are licking their lips after this one!

My favorite part of the article is that Saint Laurent's boyfriend, Pierre Berge, couldn't part with a Picasso for only USD$26 million, so he kept it. I know most of the money is going to a charitable organization founded by Saint Laurent--minus the hefty commissions his boyfriend gets for each work sold--but come on! What a greedy asshole!

As if getting USD$32 million would have been that much of a difference? As if the people with AIDS and whomever else this charity helps would give a shit if they got USD$220 million, instead of USD$226 million?

"Oh, shit. I can't believe you sold that Picasso for such a low-ball price, Pierre--how are all of us going to afford diamond-encrusted home and away jerseys for our AIDS Foundation equestrian team?"

I mean, how much did he buy the painting for? $4 million in 1989?

FUCK YOU, Pierre Berge.

And fuck you, too, people who pay $40 million for a painting of some ugly flowers in an ugly vase sitting on an ugly rug!

I don't even care WHAT the current economic climate is--it's irrelevant. Have any of you no shame?

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