Archive for September, 2006
by Suzanne on September 29th, 2006
Swiss Bitch by Brian Viveros - click to enlarge
Why is it that whenever I
am so bored out of my mind that I watch 'Arena', there's Jasmin Hutter's big freckled mouth shouting insult at the foreign population living in Switzerland? Is it not enough for you, Miss Hutter, that - thanks to the BBC - even the English will always remember your blatant xenophobia and stupidity for saying things like:
'You know one of my best friends is Turkish originally. But really you'd never know it, she's just like a Swiss person.'
I'm a very stoic person and trust me, it takes a lot to make me scream and shout at an innocent TV screen. And even though I very much prefer topical to personal confrontation: Enough is enough. I think it's time to let you know that it's the likes of you - and not those barbarian 'foreigners' you obviously love to hate so much - who make me and my friends want to leave this country in a tiny fishing boat. You are the reason why I tell everyone that I'm from Novosibirsk when I stay as a guest in a foreign country.
Jesus Christ... we're almost the same age, Miss Hutter... yet it feels like there are light years
and millions of CFC-enriched cans of hairspray between us when it comes to trying to understand and communicate with fellow humans. Because that's what those 21% of our population are: Fellow humans. Not parasites.
You should be ashamed of yourself, Miss Hutter. And so should you, SF1, for always inviting her to your show.
Even Especially if she pays good money to be on it.
Left-wing historian Hans-Ulrich Jost on xenophobia in Switzerland
Pieceoplastic interviews “Kinn Hacke” from Klatsch
by Suzanne on September 26th, 2006
I got tired of the old 468 x 60 banner and decided to make a few new designs. Once again, they're all based on the breathtaking oeuvre of the adorable Mr R. Caesar. ♥
Feel free to choose one of the banners below to link to Thee Temple ov Psychick Blah.
(click on images for full size)
by Suzanne on September 25th, 2006
© Gregory Crewdson¹ - click to enlarge/view details (even though it's terribly sacrilegious to offer Crewdson's images in a size smaller than 1.6 x 2.4 meters...)
I often get rather peculiar dreams. And I can remember (at least the outlines of) my dreams every single morning. So I thought that it's maybe about time to report some of the weirder cases in good old ShanMonster dream blogging tradition. Please note that I'm not writing them down to entertain all the little Sigmunds out there. Believe me that it's healthier for all of us if you stay out of my brains. Thank you.
Anyhow, last night, I dreamt about being kidnapped by the guerilla troops of London's underground system.
Naturally, I got bored after a while and - without thinking twice - decided to jump down the platform to follow one of the rats into the western tunnel. To my big suprise, the tunnel opened up into a huge architectural cyberpunk landscape once I entered the narrow portal. There were not only trains, but also mirrored cars, people on supersonic rickshaws and hybrid bicycles - each on separate lanes. I was totally hypnotised by all the buzzing activity and futuristic noises down there and I soon got lost and found myself trapped in a dark alleyway.
I licked some of the cold water that was dripping on my face as I was very thirsty. It tasted of charcoal. I whispered 'Kaltes Klares Wasser' half to myself, half to the rat that sniffed at my boots. Obviously, it didn't bother me at all that it wore glasses, a fake moustache, French bottines and a Sufic hat.
The guerillas must have come from above as I didn't hear them walking towards me. One of them hit me on the head with a metal object and I passed out.
When I regained consciousness, I found myself in a tall room that looked very much like David Lynch's Red Room in 'Twin Peaks'. There was a Roman marble statue, black fauteuils, the most disgusting zig-zag carpet on earth and a heavy velvet curtain that devided the room into two parts. Curious as I am, I looked behind it. What I saw there amazed me.
They didn't lock me up in a cell, but in a luxurious media center. LCD-screens, beamers, cameras, telephones, fax machines, monitoring desks, laptops... there was even a morse telegraph, the machine that goes PING! as well as a WWII Enigma machine (I think it was the same model that I tried to steal from the Imperial War Museum the other week). I even detected an unprotected wireless network on one of the laptops. I quietly said to myself: 'Isn't it amazing the things terrorists provide their prisoners with these days?'
I decided to send my mum an email to tell her that I've been kidnapped but otherwise fine, that the wireless connection is incredibly fast and that she should call the police to trace back the telephone number of the guerillas. But before I actually sent the email, I downloaded my feeds (the total of unread posts was 567) and read the latest posts by PopNutten, Das Hermetische Café, Hugo Strikes Back and Armchair Aquarium Annex (there must be something terribly supernatural about your blogs that they even turn up in my dreams. Chapeau!). I chuckled at some of the things I had just read, when I got suddenly hit on the head again by a petite girl wearing a balaclava and blazing red lipstick. (Yes, I woke up terribly exhausted with a sharp headache this morning from all the pain inflicted on my cranium.)
While I was recovering, the troop leaders had all assembled in the red room and they seemed to have a huge row about what to do with me next. I made good use of their distraction, freed myself, dashed to the prison door and locked them in with the key they had forgotten in the lock. Much screaming and shouting followed.
However, after a cigarette and a short time of consideration, I decided to open the door and ask them whether I could join their organisation. The leader agreed, congratulated me on my bravery and decorated me with a medal of honour that had Saparmurat Niyazov's golden bust on it. Which seemed only logical to me. They all sang "We're Knights of the Round Table" in my honour. I was deeply moved, sobbed and said something that appeared to be extremely smart at the time (why do we always think that we're so terribly wise in our dreams?!?):
And then I woke up.
¹ GREGORY CREWDSON LINKS
• Portfolio @ Luhring Augustine Gallery
• Interview with Kultureflash
• Audio interview with NPR
by Suzanne on September 11th, 2006
Presumably Steve Irwin's great grandmother with her pet crocodile, ca. 1901 - click to enlarge - image via Peter Dekkers
I'm off to London once again to discover new species and sexually transmitted diseases. Yay!
In the meantime, go watch Das Leben der Anderen and find the Holy Grail.
You won't regret it.
by Suzanne on September 11th, 2006
© Ray Caesar - click to enlarge
Once there was a little bunny
who had a little furry tail and a little shiny nose.
But the electrodeath cloud of commerce strangled it
and its foxhole was converted to a parking lot
a parking lot, a parking lot.
Ample parking asphalted over bunny bones.
Everyone everyone everyone get in.
(Bedtime Stories by Thom Yorke by David Hart)
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© Jonathan Weiner - click to enlarge
• Jonathan Weiner interview (by FecalFace)
• Katy Grannan interview (by ArtKrush)
• Kilfish interview (by Scene 360)
• Lesley Reppeteaux interview (by SuicideGirls)
• Mars-1 interview (by Fecal Face)
• A Mother's List of Books for Children (by Gertrude Weld Arnold / English)
• Märchen für Kinder (by Hans Christian Andersen / German / (beautifully) Ill.)
• Resonance in Singing and Speaking (by Thomas Fillebrown / English / Ill.)
• Siddhartha: eine indische Dichtung (by Hermann Hesse / German)
• The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (by Mark Twain / English / Ill.)
• The Importance of Being Earnest (by Oscar Wilde / English)
BLOG DU JOUR
Little People - A Tiny Street Art Project...
TOY DU JOUR
Alien My Little Pony - Sometimes, the only reason why you want to have babies is because you want to buy them totally disturbing toys. Or maybe that's just me. o_O
CHAIR DU JOUR
Your help needed!
Could anyone please help me identify the artist of the picture above?
I think it's from around 1880 and if I'm not completely mistaken, the artist's name sounds somewhat French.
Thank you very much for your help.
As always, the ingenious mind of Mr Substrom found the correct answer: Albert Penot. Chapeau, monsieur, chapeau!
In other news, a little worm greeted me with the word "Krankenkassenwechsel" the other day while I was gardening. I found it pretty unusual that the first (and probably last) word I've ever exchanged with a worm would be "Krankenkassenwechsel". I replied "Hullo?!?", but it said no more. Hmm... maybe it swallowed a tiny radio. Oh well, at least it wasn't a swedish maggot.
by Suzanne on September 8th, 2006
• New Paintings by Tiffany Bozic at BLK/MRKT Gallery in Culver City, USA.
CLOSINGS FOR 10 SEP 2006
• Dave Cooper - Observations on the Soft Underbellies of Mostly Pillowy Girls at Billy Shire Fine Arts in Culver City, USA.
• Fabergé in Zürich – Schätze der russischen Zarenzeit at Museum Bellerive in Zürich, Switzerland.
OPENINGS FOR 14 SEP 2006
CLOSINGS FOR 17 SEP 2006
• Future City - Experiment and Utopia in Architecture 1956 - 2006 at the Barbican Art Gallery in London, UK.