Friday, March 27, 2009


Artist paints herself having sex with each president of the USA
Posted by Cory Doctorow, March 27, 2009 6:18 AM

Artist Justine Lai's new project is a set of oil paintings of her having sex with every president of the USA, in order.

"In Join Or Die, I paint myself having sex with the Presidents of the United States in chronological order. I am interested in humanizing and demythologizing the Presidents by addressing their public legacies and private lives. The presidency itself is a seemingly immortal and impenetrable institution; by inserting myself in its timeline, I attempt to locate something intimate and mortal. I use this intimacy to subvert authority, but it demands that I make myself vulnerable along with the Presidents. A power lies in rendering these patriarchal figures the possible object of shame, ridicule and desire, but it is a power that is constantly negotiated.

I approach the spectacle of sex and politics with a certain playfulness. It would be easy to let the images slide into territory that's strictly pornographic—the lurid and hardcore, the predictably "controversial." One could also imagine a series preoccupied with wearing its "Fuck the Man" symbolism on its sleeve. But I wish to move beyond these things and make something playful and tender and maybe a little ambiguous, but exuberantly so. This, I feel, is the most humanizing act I can do. "

Must everything come down to sex? and conquest? I guess I stand corrected.It's obvious this girl is talented, I can't oil paint for shit. Blazing all the presidents is something I'm sure we've all secretly imagined before. It's never something you actually go ahead and paint. But she did, so good for her. But man, how fucking awkward is that at your own show? Like, yeah it's always been a fetish of mine to go down on Abe Lincoln and suck on George Washington's wooden teeth in bed. These days everybody wants to be "controversial" with everything they do, but ultimately the pornographic imagery of a woman applying her lucid sexuality under any circumstance, tangible or not, is always going to be interpreted as slightly trivial and therefore "controversial". I mean how many fucking things can you want to fuck until everything's been all fucked out and nobody will care? I guess never.

"I use my intimacy to subvert authority"? Damn, bitch is so good at imagining sex she even gets to fuck a president in a wheelchair. The pornographic nature of these paintings, to me, do not suggest a playfulness, but rather Playfulness is indicated by fuzzy blankets and spooning. Stark images of sitting and spinning on a dead president seems more like a sadistic punishment one would avoid thinking about. Maybe these images wouldn't come across so pornographic if she didn't look like she was having such a bummer of a time. She forgot to mention she was hatefucking all of them.

As far as humanizing and demythologizing the presidents of the United States, I wonder if she was still in her playboy time machine when Obama was elected? What about "humanizing and demythologizing every white president of the United States." that would be a more accurate description of what's going on. Of course it would introduce an x factor, which is Obama, who singlehandedly debunks her point. And another x factor in this project, which is race. which conviniently, on either hand, usually escapes asian artist statements. I mean think about it, if she was black and having sex with every president there is no way you could not address what else is going on? Or is it that because as asian americans, race is never an issue? and race is so complicated and messy to begin with, why bother? I would just feel a bit untrue to not mention this gaping irony. Of course one could argue why everything has to come down to race? Until the day I don't get called a "dumb asian", race is always going to be an issue. And then one could say well why can't she just be a chick who wants to bone all the presidents? I say you definitely should, but you're opening a can of worms.

Yet it seems these proverbial can of worms never stop opening. so with all these open cans, we still arrive at the same unchanging conclusion: sex and conquest. After a while with all of these discarded cans that have no real nutritional value sometimes it seems like you're just sitting a junkyard of ass, dick, and tits. And I just think, the world deserves to see and hear more than that. But all in all, it is aesthetically, a really interesting series of paintings.


I usually would refuse to put such a shitty slide show music video. But the guy who started the disco riot in the previous post made a parody song in 1979 and this is the original recording. It's pretty fucking funny. Just close your eyes and pretend the slideshow doesn't exist.


Thursday, March 26, 2009




Noel Black (born June 30, 1937) is an American film and television director.
Black was born in Chicago, Illinois. He won awards at the 1966 Cannes Film Festival for an 18-minute short subject filmed in 1965 called Skaterdater.[1] It had no dialogue, but used music and sound effects to advance the plot. It was nominated for an Academy Award for short film in 1966. Academy Awards for skate videos? It only makes sense that this happened in 1966, way before anybody really cared about shoeless, derelict children.

randomly, I started singing this song today after this guy was trying to convince me that buying a used $1,500 machine was a fucking bargain. and this all stemmed from me calling to inquire about a minor part to a machine i already have. just so frustrated in my head whenever i have to deal with a jerk over the phone.i hate when people talk to you like you don't know anything. like what? are you fucking crazy? you're not giving me money and i'm offering you the deal of a lifetime? you must be nuts kind of tone of voice. and i've already been on the phone like 5 minutes longer than i should have been because apparently, it's such a good deal somehow he's holding me hostage on the phone. it's like dude, i've been to your wherehouse in queens, and you have like a cemetary of fucking machines that nobody will ever buy because you are insane and pay your rent only because i'm assuming that lazy fashion students with a lot of money are your best clientel. i hate that feeling when somebody is trying to hustle you,and then try to make you feel like a moron in the process, its the worst.




March 26, 2009 by
Donald Pennington
Is the United States Postal Service seeking a bailout? According to reports from news sources like they are.

But, rather than asking for a typical bailout like the industries that Washington's wishing to federalize, the Postal Service is seeking assistance from Congress. That, in itself, begs the question that, if it's not a taxpayer funded type of bailout, what type of bailout is it? Isn't everything done by the government taxpayer funded?

What the Postal Service is asking for is old fashioned, common sense help from Congress.

The Postal Service suffered a $384 million dollar during the first quarter of the fiscal year (October through December), which is normally the busiest period due to the holiday season. A large part of the losses was due to increased fuel prices. With 200,000 vehicles, every cent of fuel costs the Postal Service $8 million dollars.

The Postmaster General, John Potter, has suggested that delivery days be cut from six days a week to five. This idea alone would save the Postal Service an estimated $3.5 billion per year. Although the plan to reduce delivery days hasn't been well accepted it's a worthwhile option to consider.

In addition, Potter has already taken steps to reduce Postal Service costs by planning to offer early retirement to 150,000 workers and is eliminating 1,400 management positions and closing six of its 80 district offices across the country. They've also cut 50 million work hours, stopped construction of new facilities; frozen salaries for executives, began selling unused facilities and have cut post office hours.

Layoffs might even be in the works for some Postal Service employees.

met this dude tonight. funny that happened.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Tiffany Yorks of the United States (born May 7 1988) underwent successful surgery in order to separate her legs. She is the longest surviving sirenomelia patient to date.


alternatively known as Mermaid Syndrome is a very rare congenital deformity in which the legs are fused together, giving the appearance of a Mermaid.
This condition is found in approximately one out of every 100,000 live births[1] (about as rare as conjoined twins) and is usually fatal within a day or two of birth because of complications associated with abnormal kidney and bladder development and function. It is not as rare as it should be.


A Herring Gull (Larus argentatus) ejecting waste from its cloaca.

In zoological anatomy, a cloaca is the posterior opening that serves as the only such opening for the intestinal and urinary tracts of certain animal species. It is also known as the anal beak. The word comes from Latin, and means sewer. All birds, reptiles, and amphibians possess this orifice, from which they excrete both urine and feces, unlike placental mammals, which possess two separate orifices for evacuation. Human beings only have an embryonic cloaca, which is split up into separate tracts during the development of the urinary and reproductive organs.
However, a few human congenital disorders result in persons being born with a cloaca, including persistent cloaca and Sirenomelia (mermaid syndrome)


made some postcards based on a photo i took two years ago. it's always been kind of a dream of mine to make postcards since I collect them. I'm getting 500 made, so if you want one, please let me know! I'm pretty much giving them away except maybe I'll keep 200 for $1 each to sell over the next 50 years of my projected lifetime. i've already gotten comments on them like, "whoa, you got problems." but it's okay because it's actually one less problem that I've finally made a postcard. Look out for the 'zine I've been working on with Roxanne. Painted ink illustrations based on dreams. Dude's Ridiculous 2009

Tuesday, March 24, 2009


Friday should be back up to 60 degrees of optimistic warmer weather. Let the sunshine rain on me, and I will officially be back in the New York Groove.

Monday, March 23, 2009

fully backing this shit. it's already been a few weeks since it's been out. but hey, whatever. i think that has to be one of my favorite paulgar quotes ever. go to for the download.

Ukrainian treasure hunter have found a wonderful piece of history. Two bullets (one fired by a French soldier and one by a Russian, back in the 19th century) collided in flight and tinkered one into another. The chance of such collision is one of the billions. It’s easy to imagine how fierce the fight was. How dense should a fire be to make bullet hit bullet situation possible.

MENLO PARK, Calif., March 23 (UPI) -- A series of cell phone and e-mail applications offered by U.S. companies Apple Inc. (NASDAQ:AAPL) and Google Inc. (NASDAQ:GOOG) are designed to prevent users from making drunken mistakes.
Google's Official Gmail Blog announced recently that users will be able to install a "Panic Button" that allows them to undo e-mails up to five seconds after they were sent, ABC News reported Monday.

"This feature can't pull back an e-mail that's already gone; it just holds your message for five seconds so you have a chance to hit the panic button," Google user-experience designer Michael Leggett wrote on the blog.

Meanwhile, Apple launched an application Wednesday for its popular iPhone called the "Bad Decision Blocker," which allows users to block themselves from sending messages to exes and other possible targets of drunken calls and texts.

"It lets you select the person you'd like to block and then set the duration," said Dan Burcaw, chief executive of Double Encore and designer of the application. "It takes that person's e-mail address and phone number out of the address book entirely. It puts it in a secret place that is not readable."

An earlier iPhone accessory, the iBreath, goes even further to prevent drunken messages by allowing iPhone and iPod users to give themselves a blood-alcohol content breath test.


facebooking my favorite albums of all time, i'm surprised they had necro on there. "your fucking head split" was my jam a really long time ago. some of his songs are alright, but a few of them are so good, so funny, and so ridiculous. "get on your knees", "the most sadistic" whatever. so sick.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

WEST PALM BEACH, Fla., March 22 (UPI) -- A former Colombian paramilitary leader says he used a tax on U.S. banana exporters to pay right-wing death squads that terrorized the country for years.
Former banana grower Raul Hasbun, the star witness in a Palm Beach County, Fla., lawsuit brought by death squad victims against Chiquita Brands, told Sunday's Miami Herald, "I am the one who established the system." He said banana companies paid 3 cents for every crate of fruit exported, with the proceeds going to finance private armies.

The suit seeks damages on for the victims of paramilitary violence -- mostly leftists and union leaders -- from Chiquita, which has filed a motion to dismiss the case, the newspaper said.

Hasbun said he has the checks to prove the alleged payments to him, which will be crucial to lawsuit, the plaintiffs' attorney said.

"(Hasbun) gives us the details on the payments, but also, as mastermind of the money, he could convince a jury in the United States that these payments were considered by multinationals as part of doing business and were not extortion at all," attorney Bill Wichmann told the Herald.





sometimes people wonder where the "anger" comes from. it really doesn't come from a mysterious place. mostly, it comes from "experience." the funny thing is that, a lot of people define experience as solely a past "experience." feelings or sentiments that are commonly defined by a personal history. essentially, leaving the present or future out. i know that almost doesn't make sense, because nobody can predict the future. but i feel like if we could predict the future, it would all be relative.

fast forward to tonight. me, r, d, ma, and q all leave the fish to lit on an early saturday evening. walking towards the corner of ludlow and houston, a brisk wind that penetrates my thick jacket reminds me of where i am. we end up at lit, drinking with some others. it's really fun, and the place starts to pile out. i haven't worked as coat check for a while so in a lot of ways it's a relief to drink. i don't usually shit where i eat so it's a good feeling.

me and r end up migrating back towards motorcity, but on the way she insists on eating at rosario's. it's around 245am and for some reasonable stroke of originality, i think it's the worst idea to get pizza at this hour.

walking into the double winter ghetto shafted plastic doors, we find our ways into an easily 20 person line. the bright lights from the ceiling sit on us like a casual florida sun. instinctually i look around and notice about 500 people, 3 of which are black ,whom look suspiciously european.

a pink faced, flushed guy rushes in from the cold behind us, the plastic doors lazily shutting behind him. at the same moment another guy is pummeling the windows with his fists trying to get the attention of the guy inside. completely unnecessary. the guy ends up coming inside and i told him to relax. after a few minutes of reconveining, they look kind of funny together, almost huddling. i remark about their gestures towards each other, suggesting they are "necking,"and therefore, unintentionally, in a roughly suburban interpretation of "homosexuality," calling them "homosexuals." which leads one of the guys to call me a "dumb asian."


shit starts to get shitty.

"I KNOOOOOOOOOW YOU DIDN'T JUST CALL ME A DUMB ASIAN!!!!!!!" i go on for probably 5 minutes. but i am pia-sssssed. really? because I am a slightly non-Harvard, low S.A.T scoring asian, and that hurts.

"YO I'M JEWISH, MY BOY IS POLISH, THAT OTHER DUDE IS IRISH." whatever, stop trying to prove how white'ish you are. anyway, too bad r punched the first booger out of the jew.

uggghh, the point isn't even who's a jew or a pol, a chink. or a fucking whatever, it's about r punching a booger out of a dude's face that was talking shit. thats fucking AWESOME.

she punched him so hard, her knuckles left obvious streams of blood that didn't belong to her. ironically, i ended up getting in between the initial attempted peace process, whilst ducking full blown punches to the dude's face.

i don't care what anyone says, he deserved it.

anytime, anyone in the world tries to free tibet, what they really need to be doing is freeing all the racist jews at rosario's trying to talk shit to some fucking hoodied female strangers. the lower east side can be a bubble. people will act however and nobody in a crowd of 30 people will say anything to prevent altercations between feuding men and women. no "hey leave them alone." nothing, people waiting for their fucking dumb pizza pretending they don't hear chris brown wailing on rihanna's face.

i'm over it. i'm over talking about shit like this. cause it's really not a big deal, but when you're a sensitive human, it's pretty annoying to try to live your life in spite of people finding a reason to pick on your shit for no good reason. and unless you're remotely articulate, will it ever be conveyed how truly frustrating it is to have to deal with such genuine negativity.

but like allen from the fish adds, "it's like getting called nigger on the school bus when you're a kid." that shit is hurtful as fuck and why the unnecessary namecalling. but really?? you think racism is dead just cause obama is president, pleeeeeeease. not like racism is an excuse for anything, but you think drugs, tits, and ass is real life and what people need to desensitize to, what about the real shit that fucking puts people in jail. racism, hate, disrespect. fuck irony. your life is not ironic because of the clothes you wear or the lifestyles you try to project in your photos. it is what it is, and people will always see you for what you are, no matter who you work for or who you date. i didn't even mention the five cops afterwards, but regardless of any law enforcenment, karma always finds a way to punch your gross boogers out of your face.