Think while you shoot/Rant in E-Minor/Creationism
“You ever noticed how people who believe in Creationism look really unevolved? You ever noticed that? Eyes real close together, eyebrow ridges, big furry hands and feet. “I believe God created me in one day” Yeah, looks like He rushed it.”
Bill Hicks
“Think while you shoot”
Martin Munkácsi
Munkácsi was a newspaper writer and photographer in Hungary, specializing in sports. At the time, sports action photography could only be done in bright light outdoors. Munkácsi’s innovation was to make sports photographs as meticulously composed action photographs, which required both artistic and technical skill.
Munkácsi’s legendary big break was to happen upon a fatal brawl, which he photographed. Those photos affected the outcome of the trial of the accused killer, and gave Munkácsi considerable notoriety. That notoriety helped him get a job in Berlin in 1928, for the Berliner Illustrirte Zeitung, where his first published photo was a race car splashing its way through a puddle. He also worked for the fashion magazine Die Dame.
More than just sports and fashion, he photographed Berliners, rich and poor, in all their activities. He traveled to Turkey, Sicily, Egypt, London, New York, and famously Liberia, for photo spreads in the Berliner Illustrierte Zeitung.
The speed of the modern age and the excitement of new photographic viewpoints enthralled him, especially flying. There are aerial photographs; there are air-to-air photographs of a flying school for women; there are photographs from a Zeppelin, including the ones on his trip to Brazil, where he crosses over a boat whose passengers wave to the airship above.
On March 21, 1933, he photographed the fateful “Day of Potsdam”, where the aged President Paul von Hindenburg handed Germany over to Adolf Hitler. On assignment for the Berliner Illustrirte Zeitung, he photographed Hitler’s inner circle, ironically because he was a Jew and a foreigner.
In 1934, the Nazis nationalized the Berliner Illustrirte Zeitung, fired its Jewish editor-in-chief, Kurt Korff, and replaced its innovative photography with pictures of German troops.
Munkácsi left for New York, where he signed on, for a substantial $100,000, with Harper’s Bazaar, a top fashion magazine. Innovatively, he often left the studio to shoot outdoors, on the beach, on farms and fields, at an airport. He produced one of the first articles illustrated with nude photographs in a popular magazine.
His portraits include Katharine Hepburn, Leslie Howard, Jean Harlow, Joan Crawford, Jane Russell, Louis Armstrong, and the definitive dance photograph of Fred Astaire.
Munkácsi died in poverty and controversy. Several universities and museums declined to accept his archives, and they were scattered around the world.
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download soundtrack link: Bill Hicks – Rant in E-Minor
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3 Decades of Large Breasts: An American Obsession/Is she woman … or animal?/Fascination & Indifference
“Women are always complaining about men’s fascination with breasts. But what if men were absolutely indifferent to breasts? What would women do then with these things that serve one function once or twice in a lifetime, and the rest of the time are just in the way?”
Jonathan Carroll
Some call it the American obsession, but men everywhere recognize the hypnotic allure of a large and shapely breast. In The Big Book of Breasts, Dian Hanson explores the origins of mammary madness through three decades of natural big-breasted nudes. Starting with the World War II Bosom-Mania that spawned Russ Meyer, Howard Hughes’s The Outlaw and Frederick’s of Hollywood, Dian guides you over, around, and in between the dangerous curves of infamous models including Michelle Angelo, Candy Barr, Virginia Bell, Joan Brinkman, Lorraine Burnett, Lisa De Leeuw, Uschi Digard, Candye Kane, Jennie Lee, Sylvia McFarland, Margaret Middleton, Paula Page, June Palmer, Roberta Pedon, Rosina Revelle, Candy Samples, Tempest Storm, Linda West, June Wilkinson, Julie Wills, and dozens more, including Guinness World Record holder Norma Stitz, possessor of the World’s Largest Natural Breasts.
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Russ Meyer – Vixen
Is she woman … or animal?
Download Album Link: Russ Meyers ‘Vixen’ – Original Soundtrack
Constance Stuart Larrabee Photographs of African Tribes/Graucho and the Native Girls
“We took pictures of the native girls, but they weren’t developed. . . we’re going back next week.”
Groucho Marx
The English-born photographer Constance Stuart Larrabee is known for two distinct bodies of work: her black and white prints of South Africa’s tribal people (Zulu, Ndebele, Lovedu, Swazi, Sotho, Transkei, and Bushmen) – produced in the ’30s and ’40s – and her Life magazine-style photo-journalism in which she documented the liberation of Europe from the Nazis.
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Jacques Henri Lartigue’s Parisian Women/Curves/Mae West & Edith Piaf
“Curves: The loveliest distance between two points.”
Mae West
Jacques Henri Lartigue (June 13, 1894 – September 12, 986) was a French photographer and painter.
Born in Courbevoie (a city outside of Paris) to a wealthy family, he is most famous for his stunning photos of automobile races, planes and fashionable Parisian women from the turn of the century.
Although Lartigue occasionally sold his pictures to the press and exhibited at the Galerie d’Orsay alongside Brassaï, Man Ray and Doisneau, his reputation as a photographer was not truly established until he was 69, with a retrospective at the Museum of Modern Art in New York and the publication of a portfolio in Life. He now added his father’s first name to his own surname, becoming Jacques Henri Lartigue. Worldwide fame came three years later with his first book, The Family Album, followed in 1970, by Diary of a Century, conceived by Richard Avedon. In 1975 he had his first French retrospective at the Musée des Arts Décoratifs in Paris. For the rest of his life, Lartigue was busy answering commissions from fashion and decoration magazines.
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Click on Link to Download Soundtrack: The Voice of the Sparrow – Edith Piaf
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Bad Girls of the 50s/All-night Joints & All-night Dames/That Cool Cat From Not That Far Back Wants Hotdogs
The TRUCKS that hi-ball thru the night!
The ALL-NIGHT joints of dames and java!
The rough-tough guys and wide-eyed Dolls who get their kicks from BENZEDRINE!
and saturday night drinks in bars where all the ladies bad dentistry/dolphin and tribal tattoos adorn tired flesh/dirty flat beers with the best company/but me on the sleazier side of drunk/watching karaoke kings and queens/once upon a time I was falling in love/now I’m only falling apart/as the doors lock and the kerry katona iceland treats come out on paper plates/tandoori chicken bites and soggy goujons/the dirtiest tapas you ever saw disappear with drained pints of stale lager/and we three slip away/a blur of taxi rides through the misty streets/into the a.m./where dark rooms shuffle a sinister cabaret of shemales/fags in drag/and a muted hard-on in my trousers/and I can hear the static noise of drunk in my ears/playground legends just tourists in this grim safari/too drunk to be disgusted or to get my dick sucked in the back room/she says she wants it rough/for me to pull her hair/and call her a dirty slut/but that nausea I can’t shake/like the dirt in my belly I can never throw up hard or deep enough to get out/and breakfast fried plantain with scrambled eggs and peppers/and that cool cat from not that far back/wants hot-dogs
so
we
throw
them
in
the
pan
too
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download soundtrack: The Fabulous Chordettes – The Chordettes
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Alfred Stieglitz Photographs of New York/Sometimes, every once in a while, I remember back to when I had you/Sippin’ at Bells
“I don’t really mind living like this. Quiet, not much to say. But, sometimes, every once in a while, I remember back to when I had you.”
John Rosow/Michael Shannon
The Missing Person
Alfred Stieglitz (January 1, 1864 – July 13, 1946) was an American photographer and modern art promoter who was instrumental over his fifty-year career in making photography an accepted art form. In addition to his photography, Stieglitz is known for the New York art galleries that he ran in the early part of the 20th century, where he introduced many avant-garde European artists to the U.S. He was married to painter Georgia O’Keeffe.
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Blue Bird Legendary Savoy Sessions – Charlie Parker & Miles Davis
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Readers Wives Polaroids of the 70s/Milano Calibro 9/Cold Flesh the Colour of Potatoes
Make a date with the brassy brides of Britain
The altogether ruder readers’ wives
Who put down their needles and their knitting
At the doorway to our dismal daily lives
The fablon top scenarios of passion
Nipples peep through holes in leatherette
They seem to be saying in their fashion
‘I’m freezing Charlie – haven’t ya finished yet?’
Cold flesh the colour of potatoes
In an Instamatic living room of sin
All the required apparatus
Too bad they couldn’t fit her head in
In latex pyjamas with bananas going ape
Their identities are cunningly disguised
By a six-inch strip of insulation tape
Strategically stuck across their eyes
Wives from Inverness to inner London
Prettiness and pimples co-exist
Pictorially wife-swapping with someone
Who’s happily married to his wrist
John Cooper Clarke
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Milano Calibro 9
Milano calibro 9 is a poliziottesco film written and directed by the Italian crime film specialist Fernando Di Leo in 1972. The film is based on a novel of the same name written by Giorgio Scerbanenco. The soundtrack for the film, Preludio Tema Variazioni e Canzona, is a collaboration album between Luis Enriquez bacalov and the Italian progressive rock group Osanna.
download soundtrack: Milano Calibro 9 -Luis Enriquez Bacalov & Osanna
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The Deserving World/Guillotines & Firing Squads/A Straight Hit Like Sì-Wŭ-Liù
“Console yourself by remembering that the world doesn’t deserve your affection”
Arthur Schopenhauer
frigid fingers held to the naked light bulb of the lamp for heat/these are frozen days/with prickly heat from space heaters/you run for 40 seconds under the duvet as coins slip through the gaps in the floorboards and the blinds/and for those who sit in large warm houses/with piles of superfluous things/complaining/poor me/like an obese man crying into his ice cream about his weight problem/I want to open his skull with a claw hammer/and their dismal holidays bourgeois versions of package holidays to Greece and Spain/complaining about the service and food/buying tat and crap/disenchanted dinners in tourist haunts/tiny bottles of soap and shampoo never touched/sipping on 3 euro coca-cola from the mini-bar/fenced off from the locals/unaware of who is the animals/and such long noses to look down/and cleaners to tidy their mess/to sweep their floors and polish their shit from porcelain/and wash their sheets/and dust their huge televisions/there is a parallel between the silt and the cream/a species imploding/to rub my arms with gasoline until I gleam/and these are the sentiments of genocide/of bitterness and disenchantment/and I dream of a primitive world
of guillotines
and
firing
squads
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Download soundtrack: 4,5,6 – Kool G Rap
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70s Porn Poster Design/Catholocism/Mr Wankee Man & Me
“I thank God I was raised Catholic, so sex will always be dirty.”
John Waters
and the weekend left me bruised and trampled/paddled by a mistress whose nazi uniform/black strapon and heels/thrashed me on a st andrews cross/and buxom corseted ladies put me in the trampling cage and sat on my face/and put their heels in my mouth/and next to the dance floor a mistress whipped admirers as they lapped at her little pussy through the bars that guarded her/or them/and I thought that whilst that pussy looked good it was maybe riddled with herpes/and my arrogant chin thrust out I drew the line in the sand/and she hit me in the face/and outside the human ashtray/whose burns and ashy grey lips/and sissy boys/where freaks and fingerings/slaps and shuffles/stockings and shoes/breasts constricted in corsets and me drunk/staggering through this/like a half-tranquilised kaiju/riding through the grim carnival like gidrah/stroboscopic lights/and mr wankee man/shuffling dismally/using the least amount of energy and movement possible to slap both thighs with a sore looking penis/in some ketamine disco jiggle/gold lurex leotard/one stocking fallen down/blonde wig and golden mask/but when the mistress prodded my ass with her strappon/I was weary of being thrashed
and
just
wanted
to
get
naked
and
fuck
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Korean War Photographs/Revelations/Military Science & War by Proxy
“I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones”
Albert Einstein
North and South Korea were sponsored by external powers, thus facilitating the war’s metamorphosis from a civil war to a proxy war between powers involved in the larger Cold War. From a military science perspective, the Korean War combined strategies and tactics of World War I and World War II—swift infantry attacks followed by air bombing raids. The initial mobile campaign transitioned to trench warfare, lasting from July 1951 until the 1953 border stalemate and armistice though minor outbreaks of fighting continue to the present day.
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Part of the imposing New York crew Monsta Island Czars, Megalon (a.k.a. Tommy Gunn a.k.a. the Black Jeezus of Rap) first gained recognition with his early Fondle ‘Em single “”One In A Million”” b/w “”Peace to the Homeless,”” as well as a show-stealing appearance on MF DOOM’s classic Operation: Doomsday. Flexing an intimidating, lightning-fast delivery paired with graphic lyrics focused primarily on narcotics conspiracy and bloodstained sidewalks, he’s one of the most popular members of the M.I.C. Though legal situations delayed its release, A Penny for Your Thoughts is nonetheless a great first album, loaded with illicit verses and dark, dramatic beatscapes provided by in-house producer X-Ray da Mindbenda.
Download Soundtrack: Penny for your Thoughts – Megalon
Buddy Esquire & Phase 2/Graves in the Snow/Old School Flyers
where junkies prowI, where the tigers growI... in search of that much-needed bIow. Where winos cringe on a canned-heat binge... and find their graves in the snow. Russell Stevens Jr. / John Hull
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Long Live the Kane – Big Daddy Kane
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Vintage Steroscopic Nudes/It’s On/Peacocks & Lillies
“Remember that the most beautiful things in the world are the most useless; peacocks and lilies for instance.”
John Ruskin
Download Soundtrack: Its On (187um Killa) – Eazy E
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America in Color/Dry Lightning/Ambitions of Poverty
“I worked my way up from nothing to a state of extreme poverty.”
Groucho Marx
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download soundtrack: Ghost of Tom Joad – Bruce Springsteen
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Gray Vegetation/The Terran Trade Authority/The Extra Inch I Was Denied
“Soon silence will have passed into legend. Man has turned his back on silence. Day after day he invents machines and devices that increase noise and distract humanity from the essence of life, contemplation, meditation…tooting, howling, screeching, booming, crashing, whistling, grinding, and trilling bolster his ego. His anxiety subsides. His inhuman void spreads monstrously like a gray vegetation.”
Jean Arp
and I discovered these books in my childhood new-age library/attached to the protestant church and dentist in town/showing the death of glamour and gold/where we met and played as scouts/fist fights and wrestling I preferrd to football and marching/I allways loved to climb trees/now I get scared/and piles of tin-tin and asterix/led in bed before you knew how fucked the world was/where the only terror was glue sniffers at the park and gas-heads/pre 90s recession/when the world felt like a static safe place/and homes were for forever/and time just ticked on/and Victorian England was terrifying in books and oliver twist/and sibling fights/lego and star wars toys that were better than the films could ever be/forts and bases/before poverty and plain spaghetti every night/maybe an omelette/think I could have grown an extra inch of cock had I not been starved for protein as a child/and when this happenned obsessed with vietnam and don mccullin/I built VC traps/to protect myself/panji stakes and trip wires/the moment of realsation and terror that the world was unstable and cold/that it was your enemy and set on destroying you
never
leaves
me
like
a
rape
victims
memories
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download soundtrack: little johnny from the hospital – company flow
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pulp porn novella covers/hot dogs and rams/fela kuti
and these pulp porno novella covers so obscene in terms of their cover art and titles/had to edit the collection and remove the more sinister titles/and who the fuck whacked off to these?/and who the fuck illustrated the covers?/and the titles; The Gay Trap, Moms Donkey Urge and Mom Loves Hot Dogs/these were the tamer titles that I found/that didn’t include rape, cannibalism or torture/so next time you walk down the street and smile at a stranger/answer the door/or sit next to someone on the bus/look at them real close/they could be hot for the ram, a queer daddy or a pussy puncher.
and the morning spent frozen in this city I missed all weekend in Copenhagen/whose 7-11 stores remind me of america/but too cold for a slushy/hung over in hotel rooms/hotdogs and beer/wandered empty misty streets and docks/bow-tie and braces/blowing in my hands rubbing my numb nose/shearling and fur/on return went straight for caribbean food at Kay-Kays/duvet on the couch/laptop out/grape soda/watched elite force and quay brothers/but tonight i’ll cook thai/lime leaves and fish sauce/shut out the world/have some tom-fappery to interracial amateur housewives and shemales on wide 6
and
warm
these
frozen
mits
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download soundtrack: zombie – fela kuti
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Why Me and Greta Sleep in Separate Beds/In A Cadillac With Susan/Postcards from MGM
“every time you see a beautiful woman, just remember,
somebody got tired of her”
Clarence Sinclair Bull was born in Michigan but spent most of his life in Hollywood where he died in 1979. He was hired by movie mogul Sam Goldwyn in 1920 to photograph publicity stills of the studio’s stars. Four years later, when Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer was founded, Bull was appointed as the head of their stills department where he remained throughout his career. During that time he took portraits of the most celebrated Hollywood film stars, however, he is particularly known for his photographs fo Greta Garbo who was almost exclusively photographed by Bull from 1921 to 1941.
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Nighthawks at the Diner – Tom Waits
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the death of the japanese city/gojira/jack burton
When some wild-eyed, eight-foot-tall maniac grabs your neck, taps the back of your favorite head up against the barroom wall, looks you crooked in the eye and asks you if ya paid your dues, you just stare that big sucker right back in the eye, and you remember what ol’ Jack Burton always says at a time like that; “Yessir, the check is in the mail.”
Jack Burton
and yesterday couldn’t move/the gravity of the day holding me in place/ I dreamt that moths ate through all my clothes/cashmere knits resting in their draws/and awake to old rice glued onto all the crockery in the dishwasher/where the dishes wait to be washed by hand/ a thousand things to do/dirty clothes/dusty floors/hairs around the sink/piles of washing up all glazed in food/the sink blocked/emails/invoices/and I can’t face any of it/and aching sore from flagellation/shemale porn/harry s morgan movies/collette sigma/debora couer/trying to find something obscene and perverse/chasing the zero/ as if to shock myself like frankensteins monster with lightening bolts through my cock
as if
I’m trying
not to
thrash
some love
into
myself
but
rather,
beat
out
the
self
loathing
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photographs of nagasaki, hiroshima and godzilla post nuclear exposure
the birth of the american city/lady godiva and me/ezra pound
All great art is born of the metropolis.
Ezra Pound
photographs of american cities from the 1860s into the 20th century
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soundtrack: mighty joe moon – grant lee buffalo
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Annie Get Your Gun/Cannibal Holocaust/Night of the Wang
and the porn then was visceral, all meat and potatoes with a side order of meat/todays filth so clinical with rubbery cold flesh, astro glide, the smell of bleached surfaces and antibacterial hand gel/there is no vaginal discharge, stray hairs, wet pussys, just cold lube smeared on cold thighs sickly sweet/a machine pumping out dilated cunts and viagra engorged wangs.
and they asked buttman in a documentary about his fixation with anal, and he said that it was because it was ‘real’ that you get a ‘real’ reaction from the actress/and I like that, porn thats ‘real’/and rocco siffredi still holds the fort down/no antibacterial hand gel or viagra there/the last great porn auteur/dirty anal kelly in rome part 2 his citizen kane.
and I heard about a cocktail, called a mexican hooker, that consists of tequila, tuna brine and tabasco/and thought it sounded quite good/and talking of mexican hookers, if they all looked like jessica alba in the killer inside me/I’d be continually broke/and they don’t understand that casey affleck is the physically small, appearingly mild mannered psychopath that jim thompson captured and characterised in a lot of his books/and played it perfectly.
so enjoy the tattered magazine covers/ranging from sinister to hillarious/with wild typographic design/and semen glazed laminate/and the riz ortolani soundtrack/ecclectic sounds that somehow are never disjointed/so go get your gun and lets christen this evening
the
night
of
the
wang
soundtrack: Cannibal Holocaust – Riz Ortolani
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Josef Koudelka – Gypsies
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Josef Koudelka was born in 1938 in Boskovice, Czechoslovakia. Josef worked as an aeronautical engineer in Prague and Bratislava, but began to take photographic commisions from theatre magazines and regularly photographed stage productions at Prague’s Theatre Behind the Gate on an old Rollieflex camera. In 1967 he gave up engineering altogether to pursue his career in photography.
Josef returned from his project shooting gypsies in Romania just two days before the Soviet invasion in August 1968. He witnessed and recorded the military forces of the Warsaw Pact as they invaded Prague and crushed the Czech reforms. Koudelka’s negatives were smuggled out of Prague into the hands of the Magnum agency, and published anonymously in The Sunday Times Magazine under the initials P. P. (Prague Photographer) for fear of reprisal to him and his family.
With Magnum to recommend him to the British authorities, he applied for a three-month working visa and fled to England in 1970, where he applied for political asylum, in 1971 joined Magnum Photos and stayed for more than a decade. A nomad at heart, he continued to wander around Europe with his camera and little else.
Throughout the 1970s and 1980s, Koudelka sustained his work through numerous grants and awards, and continued to exhibit and publish major projects like Gypsies (1975, his first book) and Exiles (1988, his second). Since 1986, he has worked with a panoramic camera and issued a compilation of these photographs in his book Chaos in 1999. Koudelka has had more than a dozen books of his work published, including most recently in 2006 the retrospective volume Koudelka.
Coca-Cola/Dinosauria/Yesterdays Empires
and today was spent drawing little frogs in regency dress playing banjos and trumpets/and researching the origins of harlequins and misty dawn/but all I keep turning up is articles on john holmes/and before they throw up coca-cola signs on everything/here are some postcards of Europe/of yesterdays empires/sometimes it is strange/to view things that are so ingrained in our aesthetic psyche/and realise/that although we know what they look like/we have never really looked at them/and last week I walked past big ben/and it touched me like sunlight/and there are so many cliched observations we could make/about global companies/becoming the new world powers/and lizards secretly ruling the world/and fanta being a drink that was created for the nazis/but when I think of the end of things
I
always
think
of
jade goody
and
dinosauria
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Born like this
Into this
As the chalk faces smile
As Mrs. Death laughs
As the elevators break
As political landscapes dissolve
As the supermarket bag boy holds a college degree
As the oily fish spit out their oily prey
As the sun is masked
We are
Born like this
Into this
Into these carefully mad wars
Into the sight of broken factory windows of emptiness
Into bars where people no longer speak to each other
Into fist fights that end as shootings and knifings
Born into this
Into hospitals which are so expensive that it’s cheaper to die
Into lawyers who charge so much it’s cheaper to plead guilty
Into a country where the jails are full and the madhouses closed
Into a place where the masses elevate fools into rich heroes
Born into this
Walking and living through this
Dying because of this
Muted because of this
Castrated
Debauched
Disinherited
Because of this
Fooled by this
Used by this
Pissed on by this
Made crazy and sick by this
Made violent
Made inhuman
By this
The heart is blackened
The fingers reach for the throat
The gun
The knife
The bomb
The fingers reach toward an unresponsive god
The fingers reach for the bottle
The pill
The powder
We are born into this sorrowful deadliness
We are born into a government 60 years in debt
That soon will be unable to even pay the interest on that debt
And the banks will burn
Money will be useless
There will be open and unpunished murder in the streets
It will be guns and roving mobs
Land will be useless
Food will become a diminishing return
Nuclear power will be taken over by the many
Explosions will continually shake the earth
Radiated robot men will stalk each other
The rich and the chosen will watch from space platforms
Dante’s Inferno will be made to look like a children’s playground
The sun will not be seen and it will always be night
Trees will die
All vegetation will die
Radiated men will eat the flesh of radiated men
The sea will be poisoned
The lakes and rivers will vanish
Rain will be the new gold
The rotting bodies of men and animals will stink in the dark wind
The last few survivors will be overtaken by new and hideous diseases
And the space platforms will be destroyed by attrition
The petering out of supplies
The natural effect of general decay
And there will be the most beautiful silence never heard
Born out of that.
The sun still hidden there
Awaiting the next chapter.
Antique Porn/Who would you fuck?/A basement apartment in Cohoes
“The universe is a big place, perhaps the biggest.”
Kilgore Trout
click on thumbnails for fullsize images
and it was a toss up between a collection of all those sticky sickly color climax magazine covers where the penises and vaginas all look red raw or these dusty old antique porn images/but it was my mood/and I was drawn to the breasts/the slightly sagging honesty of them/the backgrounds/shoes/and frilly things/lingerie from the the schizophrenic shufflings of a time machine with a mechanical hard-on/their expressions/the accessibility of their imperfection/and the regular beauty we get today so homogenous/with trimmed clams/and dull visits to the gym/the war on cellulite/and the ladies seem cool with it/cool that their bodies are so random and different/and so sexualised because of this/and I want something tangible/something real/ to eat the type of pussy you need to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand when shes done/all these ladies come hard all shaking thighs around your ears/no theatrics/and it makes me think of Kilgore Trout/and Ghostface/and ODB/wide open beavers/but the question is/not about the scattered time periods
but who
would
you
fuck?
soundtrack: Supreme Clientele – Ghostface Killah
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Piano Necktie 
