Sunday, April 09, 2006

What would you know about what grown men do, and do not, do?













I came across a book today, while wandering around Brooklyn, that had some pictures of tattooed pigs. When learning how to tattoo, a pig's flesh is the closest to a man's that you can find, and generally pigs don't care if you misspell their girlfriend's name or screw the pooch on their Tazmanian devil back piece. It's still a pretty odd thing to see though.














These photos are from the artist Wim Delvoye (more info here) who photographed a herd of pigs who were tattooed by a well-known Belgian artist. Apparently the one with the big Harley tat is named Marcel. Ooooh.














Oh, and just as an aside, when you Google image search "tattooed pig, " you're likely to get this, no joke.



I woke up this morning and began a stressful day of dicking around on the internet for as long as my time off and patience could allow. I did happen upon The Collective Noun Page (thanks to Growabrain) which kept me busy until I saw these:



















This is downtown San Anselmo (about 30 miles north of San Francisco) where I used to live. I've been particularly homesick for this place recently. I say homesick, although I wasn't even there two years, and even when I wasn't on tour with some dipshit rock and / or roll band, I feel as though I didn't make the most of my time there. I do, however, crave the vacant beaches, massive redwood trees, fresh air, amazing food and what seemed like boundless space to someone from New York. Maybe it's the fact that it's still in the 30's in Brooklyn and nearly mid-April, or that I haven't even seen a beach in over three months, or that I can't walk out my front door without tripping over six people, but I can't help thinking that I was leading a better life there. I feel so beat down by New York these days. I can't stand to eat in restaurants anymore, and a walk down the block becomes an obstacle course of dog shit, the elderly or infirm, children, garbage, madness.

So, this picture was from January following a massive rain which left many parts of Northern California flooded, but what really made me sad was that I had moved back to New York maybe a month earlier and hadn't, until now, even realized the extent of the damage done to my old home. I know that this is far from tragic, but it made me realize just how out of touch with so many things I am sometimes.

Not to make light of the situation, but that's just how my mind seems to work. I noticed the poor, lone Teva barely holding itself above the raging flood waters and thought "Oh, Northern California I miss you so."













Get some of this up ya...

Because it's Sunday..grrrahhh...

The Velvet Underground- Sunday Morning mp3

Because these guys are goddamn amazing...

Ratatat- 17 years mp3

Because I just picked this record up the other day and bits of it make my short ones stand on end...

Pelican- Last Day of Winter mp3

Because, well, you never really need a reason to listen to Aphex Twin, but this version of 'Come to Daddy' is so damn creepy, and also soothing that it makes me uneasy...

Aphex Twin- Come to Daddy (Little Lord Faulteroy) mp3


So, I went to the Arab Strap show last night at The Knitting Factory, and I was pretty down. It was about what I expected, all drunkey and sad, perfect for a Saturday night.















This was the winner...

Arab Strap- New Birds mp3




Just a thought, but girls be crazy...