Tuesday, August 5, 2008

The Unusual Suspects

I don't know why, but my apartment smells slightly of souring life. . . it's warm, it's the end of summer, if you so much as look at a ripening piece of fruit on the counter, it starts carving its own coffin. I'm doing my best, but nag champa can't cover everything. So, I figure I'll read Sarah Vowell's best-selling book, Assassination Vacation.

No-- my reading this hysterical and thoughtful book has nothing to do with the upcoming race for the White House. Not at all. Nope. I just love a good yarn about history, and Ms. Vowell's tome is one of the most engaging I've read. Lincoln, Garfield, and McKinley the first three Presidents to be cut down, and not by the Daleks. And guess who was "present" at all three of these killings? Vowell calls him, "Jinxy McDeath."

Like the author, I also love bone fragments trapped under glass. The bloodied collar of some co-conspirator who did this or that. Assassination Vacation affirms some of my own pointless investigations, my few marches through some grisly cemeteries, the late-night stalking of daguerreotypes that might induce Civil War nightmares interspersed with my search for the perfect disease, and perhaps a cure my case of Stendhal Syndrome, which basically means I get a shivery and sick and paranoid around beautiful, Florentine art. It's a REAL disorder, folks.

This tour is OVER. Take me to the etsy gift shop please. . .

Opulent Oddities

There's something about these earrings that says, Political Pirate-- and I like it. Delicately militant, a caress and then a slap, Opulent Oddities out of Deland, Florida give us a fresh variation on the old skull and crossbones. These earrings make me think of the War of 1812, when the Brits set fire to the White House (1814). The only hilarious thing about this is the thought of social butterfly Dolley Madison, running down the hall, trying to keep the girls in check while trapped in one of those low-cut, empire waist dresses, having just saved some presidential paperwork, and a priceless portrait of George Washington by the handsome portait artist, Gilbert Stuart. She's more than a First Lady, folks. . .more than a stuffed pastry.

The unusual suspects
New Adventures in Narrative: Paintings by m. Ninehouser

These wonderfully gloomy paintings with strange, often fleshy impediments allow the mind to wander over hill and dale, perhaps never to return. Or, to at least come home with a very bizarre pet. There's something delightful about these oil paintings being born and raised in Pittsburgh. Maybe I just prefer rainy days to the sunny ones.

In the umbrella queens and the stealthy assassin five unusual suspects, in this case, queens, float faceless under a mocha sky while one of their own lies in puddle of human goo, as she gurgles, cluthing unreliable handfulls of sand. Mary Poppins has definitely left the building, and she ain't coming back. What does one do, in polite society under such circumstances? Call the police? Meet for tea to talk over five alibis? Was she a royal bitch? Was she cut down by a Dalek? Did she know to much? The terrific thing about New Adventures in Narrative is you can make up the ending. Or the beginning.

Gotta go pulverize some beets, and get back to my assassination vacation. . .

Friday, August 1, 2008

Marry Me, Eugene!

I guess I have to admit it. . .

I've been in a bit of a slump. Doctor Who is over for the season. I just finished running rough-shod over season one and two of Torchwood like a Weevil on the loose in downtown Cardiff, and as much as I'm enjoying Swingtown, there's no Captain Jack Harkness making out with Ianto at the pool party, so . . . SIGH. . . And LORDY, I just heard Luke Wilson call Doctor Who an OBSCURE show from Great Britain. Obscure, Luke? WTF, hon? Duel at Dawn, you cur. And you know, "cur" is a kind word, considering its definition according to the OED is, "aggressive mongrel dog." UGH! Still love you, Luke. . .


Last night this band of performers Ed Sullivaned me, which definitely lifted my sallow spirits. Gogol Bordello-- saw them on Conan. I've been tracking Gogol Bordello for a few years, through the wilds of NPR interviews across the You Tube tundra, in Liev Schreiber's film version of Everything Is Illuminated, adapted from the Jonathan Safran Foer novel of the same name. I've heard the band sound better, but you can't beat the energy, the chaos, pent-up passions unleashed with the flick of the accordion player's wrist. Lead artist Eugene Hutz's skinny little ass makes me swoon. Marry Me, Eugene! I have a red glitter-frame photograph of him which I was indeed clutching last night, as I watched the band perform on my crappy little TV. When I finally get married, and hell, even if I don't I can only hope to have a party that sounds like Start Wearing Purple complete with matching Slivovitza and Jameson fountains bubbling booze, an obscene number of accordions, at least one Tuba to play sound effects each time someone hits the deck, perhaps a live bear or something (kidding) and a few wild dogs with beautiful brown, mascara-ed looking eyes, barking on the other side of the fence, howling to get in.

Want to see what I'll be wearing?


Gorgeous, modern-medieval and flowing. A clear indication to the groom that he's getting the dark with the light. Idea2Lifestyle, based in Shanghai, is a collective of artists who create high-quality wearable works of art that leap out of their etsy store right into your mind. I want to dye my dreads, kiss a stranger, and run barefoot through a field in Gallifrey.

Wait, there's more:

This is what I'll be wearing on the honeymoon in Eastern Europe as we weave our way by train to Poland, Ukraine, doubling back west to Hungary and then a non-stop flight to Barcelona. I heart Barcelona. I have it all planned, apparently. All I need is the man. Screw it-- I'll go anyway.

Love this top. Reminds me of a blouse I BEGGED my mom to put on lay-away for me, from The Limited back in the 80s. I was into the asymmetrical look back then. My top was mustard-colored, and I distinctly remember being laughed at by the popular high school girls. I was ahead of my time, obviously. Taking my cues from episodes of Square Pegs. Now that I'm MUCH older, and I have trouble buttoning my tops correctly, so here's a lovely compromise. This blood-red delight of a shirt makes "offset" very sexy. Comes in with, black, and grey. This blouse is called, "Missing you IN Red." Yes, indeed.

All right, all right. . . I think I'm back. I'll start some kind of countdown to Doctor Who, or something. Maybe start a Torchwood satellite office. This is a cry for HELP. Are there any support groups out there for my little problem?