Happy Thanksgiving, and Blessed Be.
This is truly fucking amazing.
The amazing animated video to The Jezabels’ “Come Alive” features a swirly, timeless impasto style. All smoke and fire and light, every frame’s literally a stark, beautiful painting.
It was directed by Darcy Prendergast & Xin Li from Oh Yeah Wow, using oil paint on glass. It might seem grim for a monday morning, but stick with it! The Jezebels are on tour in early 2016 and their second album, The Brink, is out now.
The Impact Theory is dead? That’s news to me…
All right. A few things.
Despite the absolutely garish “cover design,” see above, and its hideous title, Aliens and Astronauts: UFO’s On the Moon (2014) is a loving documentary regarding the many mysteries of our beloved Luna. And when I say “loving,” I mean it; there is so much Moon porn in this flick, culled from NASA and photographers around the world—frankly, I was fucking beating it…
There are fundamental elements about The Moon that our best scientists simply do not understand. It’s true! The Moon’s size, its orbit, its geological composition—a lot of this shit simply “makes no sense.” Of all the celestial objects and phenomena we’ve studied, whether it be “photographing” Dark Matter and Black Holes, or aiming a puny rocket that actually hit Pluto nearly two decades later, we still don’t understand The Moon. Our closest neighbor. A place we’ve actually visited. She remains a mystery.
That’s why I love Her.
I believe in science, I really do. I want to know how The Moon is in such a perfect orbit, how She perfectly eclipses The Sun. And more. Just because we don’t initially understand shit is not a reason to claim, “Well, it must be God! Or aliens! MAYBE IT’S SPOCK!”
And this film is assiduous in quoting many many many scientists and writers who can only scratch their heads and breathe, “The Moon is fucked up, man.”
Yes She is. Like I said, that’s why I love Her.
So! The documentary goes completely fucking nuts at the end! After making a sustained argument that The Moon is actually an artificial construct parked in orbit around Earth by aliens, we are given this graphic:
FLYING SAUCERS DRIVING THE MOON DOWN THE DOCTOR WHO WARP CORRIDOR! Yup. That’s how She got here.
unabellaadagio / Jeremy Mann
the lover’s voice enters the body through the ear
ritual tying of knots, binding symbol
burning into my skin
raises your words
along my spine
you always give to me exactly what I need
you know how to light up my body
and my mind and how I want to be bound
to you by symbol and matter
I can let myself go
in your hands
you have come to know me
who I am and who I can be
and what turns me on and how
to lift myself up
teaching me what it means to be safe
to be loved and held
Mark of the Borgia (Variation 1), William Mortensen, 1927
It warms my heart that lonely (and singular!) souls find my lonely (and singular!) site in search of something that might grant them a form of transcendence. No, really—it does. I have excellent taste. I only post “good shit.” Erotic, tasteful. Respectful.
So I was intrigued when a friend recommended the work of Gary Parsons.
“Intrigued” is probably the wrong word. More like “challenged.” Because this wasn’t “anime girls chair tied,” not a cheap hubba hubba bondage turn-on. This was challenging and troubling work.
I have known and continue to know Cutters. A few of them men. Most of them women.
It is, in my own fumbling words, intensely private, and not something done for observers. It is a physical and emotional and intensely spiritual release, that I think —I think— I understand intellectually. The pain, the release. The previously unmarred and “perfect” skin.
But damn if I want to watch a woman I love, or a man I like, fucking slice their skin open.
It is not a turn-on.
So that’s why I am more challenged than intrigued w/ Mr Parson’s work, and that is why I share it with you tonight. Because art is supposed to challenge and trouble us.
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for your listening pleasure