In other news, Emma Sulkowicz‘s mattress graduated from Columbia today with a B.A. in Anthropology. “Sure, it’s a bullshit degree,” the mattress is quoted as saying, “but was I supposed to do with all these art credits?”
Good weekend, folks!
May 22, 2015 — 9:11 pm
I try to keep up with the news from home. For some reason. Anyway, it looks as though someone vandalized the Holocaust Memorial in Lynn Massachusetts yesterday with five pieces of pork.
Now, I know stuff is cheaper where you are, but what the hell? Those are thick center cut pork chops, at the very least. Pork roasts, even. That’s going to be a good £30 worth of meat, easy. And so gracelessly displayed.
I would have thought bacon the obvious choice here. Cheap, instantly recognizable, drapes over objects in artfully disrespectful arrangements. What kind of monster drops a giant meat bomb and walks?
Not a Muslim, obviously.
I’m betting it’s some kind of butcher shop heist gone embarrassingly wrong.
May 21, 2015 — 10:04 pm
What the hell, girls? This thing was on the floor of the henhouse, not in the nest, so I suppose there’s an outside chance some passing robin snuck in and laid it (European robin’s eggs are not robin’s egg blue). But it looks exactly like one of theirs, only stupidly small.
I think I’ll keep it.
Posted in response to this picture kindly sent to me by Clifford Scridlow. It’s a nice try, dude, but I think shame is outside a chicken’s emotional repertoire.
Spare me a thought. I’m going in tomorrow. I don’t feel too bad, but I’m a thoroughly disgusting gurgling water feature on legs. I’ve packed an entire roll of paper towels in my bag.
May 20, 2015 — 8:49 pm
I’ve got a new hobby: collecting old postcards of local scenery. They’re cheap and plentiful in junk shops and on eBay, especially if you buy them in lots.
The thing I love most about it is that the famous tourist spots have been done again and again, from exactly the same angle, sometimes dozens of times. And the only way you can tell the nearly identical images apart is an Edwardian hat here, a 1950s skirt there, sepia tone, hard color, a horse cart, a motorcycle. It’s like a weird time machine with an almost (but not entirely) unchanging landmark in the background and a shadowplay of fugitive humanity drifting around in front.
I’ve also decided that postcards are the path to artistic immortality on the cheap. Oh, you can’t make money on them — the scale is bad and the math is all wrong — but as long as you can sucker someone into selling them in a tourist town, they will be saved and collected forever and ever.
You know what, though? I have a suspicion this one isn’t really from 1650.
p.s. Cold, day 3. I am Ye Olde Snotte Monster. I’m taking one more day off tomorrow and then I really must pull myself together, unpleasant honking sounds or no.
May 19, 2015 — 9:10 pm
A nice short roundup of anti-Hillary street art on display here.
Not seen that website before: gotnews.com. Looks to be a startup from Charles C. Johnson, a name I have seen around (but not to be confused with the Charles Johnson of Little Green Footballs).
It’s got a lot of original reporting on Brandon Bostian, the engineer who crashed that Amtrak train. Including his online dick pics with the dicks tactfully blurred away. Which is horrible in an indefinable way.
Me, I came down with a nasty head cold over the weekend, so I’m'a sneak off and…drink Jack Daniel’s or something.
May 18, 2015 — 9:37 pm
I gotta run to work, but brace yourself. Today. Six pee em.
Dead Pool Round 73!
May 15, 2015 — 7:44 am
But this is what I was after, really: I heard there was a new True Crime Museum in Hastings. Some may recall I am an aficionado of the genre. Me likum murder.
Anyway, this was fun. It’s on the seafront, next to pubs and shops, but this building is actually 3,000 feet of rough space hacked out of limestone. It’s a big, damp cave. Perfect.
They didn’t have an awful lot of genuine artifacts, though. Mostly information boards and simulacra. A glass case full of real bullets of various calibers. Pretty low threshold. Needs more lurid. It would have been a let-down if I’d paid full price, but I had a voucher, so I was happy enough.
Anyway, that’s the centerpiece up there. Six carboys that once held the acid John George Haigh used to dissolve his last victim. He mistakenly believed he couldn’t be convicted of the crime if there wasn’t anything left of the bodies.
These are the actual SIX CARBOYS which contained the acid Haigh used to dissolve the body of Mrs. Olive Durand-Deacon (pictured) on 18th February 1949.
Not true, of course. People have been convicted of murder without a speck of the corpse remaining, although it’s a tough sell. But in this case, poor Mrs Durand-Deacon left behind an undissolved upper denture and a small pile of gallstones. Haigh was hanged.
Got to chatting with the owner afterwards. Turns out, Haigh only used three carboys of acid to dissolve m’lady, but there were six in his workshop and they didn’t know which three. So, there. Now you know something.
May 14, 2015 — 10:42 pm
I’m a total museum hag. I swear, I’d stare at moose poop if you put it in a glass case with a laminated tag. I particularly like funky little private museums, personal and desperately short of funding.
The Shipwreck Museum was especially fun. Rusty cannons, pieces of eight, old china, instruments and models. In one display, there were bundles and bundles of what looked like stacked firewood. Turns out they were muskets, probably someone gun-running to the Confederacy.
And then there was this thing — the thing in the picture — which doesn’t have anything to do with shipwrecks at all. Don’t strain your eyes, the inscription reads:
THE FIRST LONDON BRIDGE
Part of a timber pier considered to be of the first London Bridge built, according to tree-ring dating, most likely in AD 85-90.
As oak trees grow one ring per year (in wet years the ring is thick and in dry years thin) it has been possible for scientists to trace the tree-ring pattern to the south-east of England and back almost 3,000 years.
If you count the rings at the end of this timber, the outermost being AD 78, this confirms that the tree was growing during the lifetime of Christ.
And that is how you know this is a privately funded museum, free of government monies: that sweet old-fashioned reference to Christ. I wonder how many Muslims have been triggered by that thing?
We put a few pounds in the collection box on our way out.
May 13, 2015 — 10:09 pm
So on my birthday we went to Hastings. That’s like saying on your birthday you went to…I dunno…name a shit-hole. Ferguson? Tikrit? It’s not a nice place, mostly.
But down on the waterfront, there’s a little sliver of the charming fishing village Hastings used to be: Hastings Old Town. There are shops and restaurants and museums and the largest fishing fleet in England that is launched from a beachfront.
I like it. Uncle B, not so much. Eh, whose birthday?
It was a warm but a hella windy day, so it was fun to watch the waves come crashing in against the pier. Some damn fool was out surfing in it; we kept waiting for him to be smashed against something.
And I didn’t much fancy taking a ride on this thing. In the picture. The East Hill Cliff Railway. It’s the steepest funicular railway in England.
Funicular. Heh. Love that word. It means the two cars are tethered to each other so they balance and it takes less energy to move them up and down.
When it opened in 1903, this one was hydraulic — there were two big water tanks in the towers at the top and gravity did the thing. Now it’s electric, I think.
Anyway, that’s not important. The important thing is, I took this picture with my new birthday camera. After I busted my old camera, and then busted his old camera, I didn’t really fancy one of them fancy pants new SLR’s to bust.
This one is a Nikon D-60, the next generation after my beloved D-40. Last product in that line, and ever so slightly better at everything. And, yes, first thing I did before it left this house was buy a padded case. Here that pic is in color and unfuzzed.
Back in business, ladies and germs.
May 12, 2015 — 9:54 pm
Hello! I’m back! Did you miss me?
Okay, I didn’t really go anywhere, but the principle stands.
As you might imagine, first day back, it’s been a howling bumhole of a day, but I couldn’t forget you, my imaginary internet friends. My bestest imaginary internet friends.
I passed this guy afternoon. No lie. He was walking up the sidewalk on a fairly rural road. I was, like, “holy shit — did you see that?” And everyone else was like, “What?” And I’m like, “you’re kidding me — there was a guy walking up the road with a giant cross on wheels!”
I assume it was this guy. There can’t be too many of them. I didn’t remember his face being old, but I only got a glimpse. Since that article is over two years old, he has now hauled that thing across upwards of 19 countries for almost thirty years. Huh.
Anyway, my thoughts on the election later. For now, rested and happy to be back.
May 11, 2015 — 10:43 pm