It’s mind-boggling, no, unfathomable, to imagine the, heh, depths of what we don’t know about the ocean. It might as well be another world! James Cameron’s 1989 documentary, The Abyss, proved as much. And now the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration just finished a mission in Indonesia, using a robotic vehicle and a sonar mapping system to explore nearly 21,000 square miles of sea floor off northern Indonesia, at depths ranging from 800 feet to over two miles. And they found some mighty strange — some might even say alien — shit down there.
That, for example, is a carnivorous sponge. A carnivorous sponge?! The deep sea is a fucking nightmare, apparently.
Scientists predicted that up to 40 new plant and animal species may have been discovered during the three-week expedition. 40 types of horrors we didn’t know about before.
Further proof: this is a Chimaera. For fuck’s sake, it’s named after a monster from Greek mythology. Which it might as well actually be considering the looks of this thing. Their evolutionary lineage branched off from sharks nearly 400 million years ago, and they’ve been growing all the more freakish ever since. The lines running across its body are used to sense pressure waves, like ears, and the dots on its nose detect electrical fields produced by living organisms. So yeah, crazy.
And this Octopod’s head is looking way too much like an alien on a t-shirt from the 1990s for me to be comfortable with.
Not to be outdone, here’s a fish with feet. You need to decide, motherfucker. Just like Ariel in The Little Mermaid.
Been playing around with a lot of t-shirt design concepts lately. Not too sure about any of these in particular, but it’s a sentiment that belongs on the chests of a generation all the same.
Not saying I’m not included. That’s kind of the point.
Time to shit or get off the pot. Nobody likes a faker. Authenticity is…
There comes a time in any independent person’s life, when, in the absence of a boss, or parent, or other authority figure, they must hold themselves to an exacting standard simply because nobody else is. Choose not to, and willingly fade into obscurity in the land of lost potential. Conversely, hold yourself to that standard, and you may still fade away, but it will be as the last embers in a blistering bonfire do — with great effort and time, and only then, because there’s simply nothing left to burn.
Peter Ramondetta is one of those veteran pros who keeps a bit of a low profile and lets his skating do all the talking — I respect that in a skateboarder. Nothing against the loud mouths out there, after all, huge personalities are one of the most entertaining things in this culture. Not to mention, the kind of wild, outlaw in the streets nature of skating creates and attracts those types of personalities anyway. But quiet dudes who handle their shit in a huge way, like Peter Ramondetta, are a perfect contrast to the Rob Dyrdeks, the Brandon Biebels, the Brad Stabas. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some Staba, but lately it’s been for everything he’s doing but his skating, and that, like Brad himself, says a whole lot.
Peter’s greatness has been solidified long before his latest interview in Thrasher, but the sequences and throwaway footage they posted along with it did good things to stoke the flames of my burning man crush on one of San Francisco’s most cherished satanists. Gnarly with a heaping side dish of technical skill, what’s there to complain about?
All sequences and video courtesy of Thrasher.
Real seems to attract these quiet killers, with an impressive lineup of super-talented silent cowboys like Ramondetta, Dennis Busenitz, and Max Schaaf — even Justin Brock and HUF to a lesser extent. So you know the full video’s going to be gnarly with a heaping side dish of technical skill. Yup. Nothing to complain about there.
In light of yet another summer weekend flushed down the toilet, I thought some photos as dark as Friday and Saturday’s black out attempts would fit the bill.
Thought this little piece of wall art might help increase our apartment’s resale value.
In other news, the arachnid invasion of Chicago has really gained momentum in the past month. At first I kind of liked having the little guys around, but the thing is… now they’re not so little anymore…
Maturity flows like beer at most bars. Bodily fluids do too, apparently.
Speaking of “oh shit!” moments… act cool — it’s the fuzz.
Thought I’d share this preview from Dedleg’s upcoming Fall/Winter 2010 lookbook.
And big ups to my man Justin for helping us out with the shoot — you’re a natural on that board, homie!
Generations of America’s children have squandered their youths parked in front of television sets, while their parents worked to afford said television sets, since those are still cheaper than actual nannies. Regardless, it seems inappropriate to use the word “squandered” when talking about Looney Tunes — or Merrie Melodies which, for all intents and purposes, were the same fucking thing — perhaps the most benevolently violent caretakers I ever had.
I cherished those 15 minute blocks of time with Wile E. Coyote and Road Runner — if “cherished” can be considered sitting wide-eyed, motionless, with drool dangling perilously from my bottom lip. And Foghorn Leghorn was always a sure bet, but my absolute favorite, no doubt propelling me into the depths of dorkdom at my most impressionable age, was the retro sci-fi-inspired cartoon featuring Daffy Duck and Marvin the Martian — Duck Dodgers in the 24½th Century.
Despite its futuristic setting, the cartoon first appeared in 1953. Its first (and only true) sequel, Duck Dodgers and the Return of the 24½th Century was released in 1980, and it’s amazing how the two seem plucked from the exact same time period. Amazinger, I suppose, is the fact that all Looney Tunes/Merrie Melodies cartoons seem to exist in a kind of limbo. They are impervious to time. Perhaps that just speaks to the classic nature of these cartoons — they are everlasting, ever-relate-able. 300 pound triple OGs can be seen wearing leather jackets embossed with Daffy Duck’s image in the Bronx, and meanwhile, NASA put Duck Dodgers on mission patches for 2003’s Mars Exploration Rover missions.
Not saying both groups of people would be able to sit down and have a conversation that made any amount of sense, but the timelessness of these cartoons is undeniable. In all likelihood, our children will sit, wide-eyed, motionless, with drool dangling perilously from their bottom lips in front of Duck Dodgers, just like we did. Assuming we don’t follow his lead and blow up the planet first.
Allow us a moment, please, while we clean the shit off the fan. We hit our quota earlier this week but, for lack of anything better on the fly, how about some slightly-less-typical-than-usual sunset photos? I know those always make me feel better, anyway.
Things got a bit weird for a second there yesterday. But we’re shakily segueing back into relative normalcy. What, you couldn’t tell?
One of the worst things the Internet has done to us, as a people, is turn us into a nation of naysayers. And really, Triple Dub has nobody to thank but itself, and I guess inherently, all of the moron naysayers using it, for our ever-skeptical, hyper-critical view of everything that our greedy, tireless eyes consume. The fact of the matter is, there are vast amounts of bandwidth being wasted daily on some really, truly pointless, intentionally asinine, or just straight-up fake shit on the Internet. And that is why, despite all apparent proof, I’m still sort of not convinced this video is legit.
Then again, maybe I’m just subconsciously hoping it’s fake due to the fact that it makes me genuinely uncomfortable. And not to say a crazed street-dweller has never smashed the fuck out of a moving car with a crowbar before — but capturing a street-dweller in a full blown crowbar meltdown, violently lashing out at his environment as if to scream to the heavens, “Ye gods! I am here… and I need a rock!”… well that’s something else entirely.
Anyway, can’t wait to catch this guy on next season of Dancing with the Stars.
I don’t have anything except a bunch of bad news this morning since I spent 5 hours getting ravaged by a tattoo machine yesterday, and was later besieged by several other much less desirable disasters.
The fact that I’m bothering to even patch this meager notice together instead of doing something about the shit storm raining above of my real life just goes to show how completely and utterly fucked my priorities are.
If it wasn’t already obvious… things are probably going to go downhill here quite quickly. Stay tuned, everybody loves an epic downfall.
When I first saw these photographs by Peter Feigenbaum I quickly assumed they were creating using the tilt-shift technique. In these times, it’s unfortunately a logical conclusion that most of what you run across on the Internet is derivative and trendy. In reality, Feigenbaum’s photos are exactly what meets the eye. No trick photography, no post-processing Photoshop wizardry — if these photos of “old New York” look like models it’s because they are.
The photos are part of Feigenbaum’s “Trainset Ghetto” installation and photography project, where he builds miniature replicas of 1980s era New York neighborhoods and photographs them in angles that suggest you’re actually within the scene. It’s a really cool effect, to say nothing of the insane amount of workmanship that went into crafting these photo-realistic microcosms. Feigenbaum will be having an exhibition at Open Source Gallery in Park Slope this September, so pencil it into your day planner and get ready to dodge some strollers in a month.
The primary emphasis is always “setting the scene” in a hyper-real, trompe l’oeil manner. Unlike other “scene-setting” photographers like James Cassebere, who works with hazy spatial ambiance, or Gregory Crewdson, who creates uncanny cinematic narratives, Trainset Ghetto is concerned primarily with hyper-realism via an attention to small mundane details of the urban architectural vernacular.
Trainset Ghetto is a by-product of the virtual urban spatial realms that defined my teenage experience in the 1990s-virtual realms found in video games ranging from Sim City to Duke Nuke ‘Em to Grand Theft Auto. The motivation to create Trainset Ghetto was cultivated by experiences in these virtual realms. Additionally, there was a desire to objectify these spatial experiences-a desire that could only be fulfilled via miniaturization, a process in which inhabitable spaces become tangible objects.
The name is obviously perfect — they’re like long-forgotten, scarred trainsets… like what happened after their young owners grew up and moved on, leaving their creations to be overrun by crack and crime. A microcosm, indeed.
A pretty random grouping of photos today — but that’s WACKY WEDNESDAY for you. The photos of the lilies are all obviously related, but the 12-pack from left field just kind of fit the color scheme going on, so what the hell. Flowers like a cold beer every now and then, too.
Actually, that’s not true at all, and I must strongly recommend that you not feed your plants alcohol. They don’t know how to handle their liquor, and it just never ends well.
NSFW due to flower naughty parts.