this always made me wish for an alternate version of “the way out is through” with a break so trent’s vocals could just scream without anything else.
I know, tough, right? I’m knitting a carrier for my chainsaw here. (x)a cute guy that knits socks? yes please. put him along side sufjan stevens
oh, misha…you are hilarious.
You probably haven’t seen Manos: The Hands of Felt, a theatrical puppet musical based on one of the most legendarily awful films ever made â it’s been performed around the U.S., but not often and not everywhere. But you have a chance to fix this egregious error by crowdfunding an official DVD release!
Manos: Hands of Felt is amazing. I’ve seen it live and was even caressed by a puppet during the “Forgetting You” musical number. This DVD needs to happen and we need to give it money!
I can’t imagine watching this movie without rifftrax
i can’t imagine watching it without rifftrax AND in the same room as tommy wiseau (as people do here in chicago at the music box).
Wow. I didn’t think it was possible but Trump actually trumped his own idiocy with this.
Donald Trump, warning all women of the world to avoid alone time with him.
picnic time! best way to combat having been stuck inside, feeling crappy all day. (at Winnemac Park)
MRA groups in a nutshell.
So. I heard about the passing of Ray Harryhausen, and my mind immediately spun back to 1963.
It’s the first year of my life I remember with any clarity, the year that my Dad would move us out of the elm-lined avenues of River Forest and into the corn-and-soybean-surrounded spankin’ new housing of the far west Chicago suburbs.
My sister was playing the grooves off her copy of the Beatles’ first album Please Please Me and my brothers were learning Kinks riffs - one on guitar and one on drums - and certainly driving my parents to drink.
I was in second grade and hated it, hated my new school, hated the Nazi tactics of my Vader’s precursor of a teacher Sister Martilia.
But it was also the year my mom started making my brothers drag me along to movies, and more than anything I remember the movies. Made everything else tolerable.
In 1963 widescreen had spread like a brushfire. I saw a lot of movies, but I clearly remember three: The Great Escape, It’s a Mad Mad Mad Mad World and Jason and the Argonauts. I don’t think I could’ve picked a better spread of movies for a kid my age. all of them sprawling, all of them barreling along, all of them really fun to watch, just to watch, just to get sucked into that Brobdingnagian image and sound up there.
While the first two films taught me through osmosis the thrill of multiple parallel story lines, Jason was an adventure, a quest, and frankly it was the most fun to watch with my six-year-old eyes. Sinbad had featured a fighting skeleton, but Jason had a whole damn battalion of them, all angry and pretty unskillful, more dangerous-looking than dangerous. Handsome bearded Jason and voluptuous Medea? Well sure, they were there, but come on, skeletons! Plus two flying harpies, big stone Triton (we called him Neptune, he looked like a Neptune), nasty Hydra, the dreamy talking statue of Hera (stone fox), the ship-crunching colossus Talos.
What brought this chunk of dubious Greek myth to life was Harryhausen. Harryhausen and Dynamation. Stop-motion + rear projection + split screen + foreground mattes. He’d worked on it for a good twenty years and then unleashed on us like Walter White’s meth but for the eyes.
Those kinetic fantasies, bigger than life yet convincingly to scale, worked. No strings, no guys in rubber costumes, actual unnatural things brought to life. Twitchy, jerky life to be sure, but enough for me to willingly suspend my disbelief. The world of fantastic cinema opened up to me because now the fantasticalness made a kind of sense. I’m thinking this is how people might have when they first saw George Méliès.
See, this is my Star Wars, kids. This was the amped-up heroes’ quest that fired my playground dramas and filled my couch-cushion castles. It was cool. And as the age of Star Wars and all that owes as much to Dykstra, Trumbell, Winston and ILM as it does to Lucas, Spielberg, Ridley and Jackson, and maybe more, they in turn happily acknowledge their debt to Harryhausen. All of them.
And so do I. Thank you Ray. You spun my second-grader’s head around and helped make me a movie-lover.
The Nu Project’s Nude Photos Tell The Truth About Women’s Bodies
The Nu Project is a no-glamor honest look at beauty and image in our world.
Female nudity isn’t hard to come by in the media, but the bodies we see usually represent a fairly limited scope of sizes and shapes. The Nu Project, a collection of nude photographs shot by Minneapolis photographer Matt Blum, seeks to add some variety to the mix. Blum started The Nu Project in 2005 but said it really took off when his wife, Katy Kessler, became the project’s editor. Blum sees the photos as filling a void. “When I started shooting nudes there was no project like it,” he told The Huffington Post in an email. The things that I had seen either used models with typical model bodies or average people who were made to look extremely unimpressive. I figured there was a way to treat women (of any size/shape) like models and photograph them beautifully, respectfully without a lot of sexual under or overtones. The women photographed are all volunteers, and most of the pictures are taken in the subjects’ homes — where they feel most comfortable. The Nu Project’s website showcases six galleries of nudes, three shot in North America, three in South America. Although Blum told HuffPost that he feels that they have a “good variety of people involved,” he and Kessler acknowledge on The Nu Project website that they’d love for the subjects to be more diverse. “The hardest part for us is that the project is 100 percent volunteer, so I do not see the women until I show up at their door,” Blum writes on the website. “We’re doing our best to encourage all types of women, but we need volunteers of all backgrounds and walks of life to make the project more complete.” Blum said he ultimately hopes that these images inspire the women who see them to feel better about their own bodies. “It’s been really exciting to hear people react to the images,” he told HuffPost. “We get a lot of feedback from women (especially) who have struggled to see themselves as beautiful, and this project has helped them on that path.”
I am in love with this.
People are telling me I am wrong and that misandry exists. Spell check agrees with me though. Spell check has my back.
‘Home Again’ by Oingo Boingo is my new jam.
When I was a teenager, this was a thing of forbidden wonder - the type of underground, alt culture urban legend that isn’t technically possible anymore. Kids today can’t possibly appreciate the feeling of tracking down a rare video artifact, because everything now is a mere Google search away. I found this video at the bootleg VHS stand at a local comic book convention, sitting between duped Red Dwarf compilations and home video of early Nirvana shows. There was no context provided, no wiki page to reference - just a Xerox-copied cover with a backwards n and “broken” on the front, and a list of the contained music videos on the back. I can’t remember what I paid for it, but it was a weighty purchase at the time - $30, maybe. And when I unveiled it with my friends on my bedroom VHS player, it was worth every penny: Scary and gross and awesome - and again, without any context. For all I knew, the “snuff” segments could have been real. I felt I had something truly rare and unique, possibly dangerous. And that was what rock music was about in the 90s: It was danger and dirt and hate and anger and pissing people off. There isn’t any of that left in mainstream rock anymore (is there even mainstream rock anymore?). So if you’re young, and seeing this for the first time, remember that this is not for you. It’s a product of a bygone era. It was never meant for searchable, on-demand access, never meant for the soft-hearted masses who put no effort into seeking it out. It’s here now because it should be preserved - but really, if you didn’t find this on VHS decades ago, or seek it out on file-sharing networks more recently, you don’t deserve it.
i remember when i got into nine inch nails when i was 12, right when the fragile came out. i spent months tracking down and buying every halo i could find in every format available. i owned closure, so i had already seen (most) of the videos, but i was vaguely aware of the broken movie. i didn’t have high speed internet, yet, so i couldn’t really download music (especially because i didn’t really know how), let alone video. when i got into high school two years later, we got a cable modem, and i remember discovering limewire. the first thing i downloaded was the broken movie. it took forever because anyone who had it was not giving much upload bandwidth. when it was finally done and i watched it, i couldn’t move for about ten minutes.
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drawin a baby deer for annahs wedding invites. no one show her ok its a surprise.
wut! o_O this is amazing.
kinda looks like my tattoo…
hi guys! this is a comic i made for a final in my comics in literature class. we had to do a research paper on a topic we’d discussed in class and then accompany it with a comic with a relevant subject. my paper was about hyper-sexualization of women in comic books, but i decided to broaden it out here as well as personalize it and make myself the subject and discuss something i’ve been subjected to in the convention circuit and on the internet as well as thousands of other women, as well as give a cue to thought about how the comic book industry as well as the video game industry and even just media in general (all of which are male dominated) push such ridiculous pressures onto girls and women.
also, it feels kind of silly to have to add this since i hope it’s obvious, but i am very aware that there are men that don’t subscribe to this attitude, and am incredibly grateful that these issues are brought to light to people other than the ones that are subjected to it.
anyway haha i have literally been staring at this for 9 hours i don’t even know which direction is up anymore. thanks for reading!!!
Cool, poignant comic.
Also, men who consider themselves “one of the good ones” but also feel the need to point out that not all men are bad need to re-examine themselves and whether they’re actually all that good.