But the tune I really like here is a mash-up called eminem vs. ragtime (uncensored). I don’t know the rag, though it sounds like one of the better known ones. What’s remarkable is the rhythmic sophistication of marshalll mathers’ rapping; this mash-up could never work without it. even if you hate rap, it’s hard to do well. and if we’re impressed with the way this modern rapper meshes with the old music, what are we to say about someone who created something not very different in 1937?

frankie newton was a trumpeter who stayed busy from the late 1920’s to the 1940’s, and played on billie holiday’s song “strange fruit”. he’s got bona fides if he never did anything else; jasmine records over in england offers a two-cd anthology of his work. in 1937, frankie newton and his uptown serenaders cut a hyperventilated, hilarious rave-up called onyx hop. Like any other song a band would record in those bygone days, the whole group would crowd around a single microphone in the studio, do the whole piece from start to end, and not make a single mistake; this was back when every roadhouse had a band, and there were lots of paid musicians about, though very few got rich. Every recording session was a live gig; you didn’t have the modern problem of artists making great-sounding records and being awful in person. Everybody had their parts down cold, or they got fired.

oh, yeah. the song is about weed.

and I consider it one of the best songs of the 20th century; it really sounds 50 years ahead of its time. the lunatic, high-precision ensemble playing is typical thirties hot jazz; but the vocal is a two-part singsong chant about getting stoned on cannabis down at the onyx club. it came out about the same time the big business interests got hemp outlawed; you’re never gonna hear it on the radio; it’s the punk rock of the depression. jim kweskin’s jug band covered it back in the ‘60’s, so perhaps some old hippies remember that version; but for the rest of us, it’s a breath of smoky air.

don’t believe me? well i have proof.

see? an embossed gold seal and everything. can’t argue with that. the text reads: let it be known to all that the star located at ra 203.4575125 and declination -59.70278611 is named in honor of jaime morrison. “in honor” no less.

yeah, in may of 2003 my girlfriend (and my cats) made the sweet gesture of having a star named after me. yes, i know i know, it’s not real. seti is not going to be searching a system, find a signal from an alien race, then announce to the world all breathlessly “we have received a signal bearing the cures for all known diseases, schematics for faster than light traveling star cruisers, and the recipe for a delicious 7000 proof whiskey from a noble and intelligent race whose planet orbits the glorious jaime morrison sun.” i know that. these star naming offers are bogus. only the international astronomical union can officially name a star. they have this to say about it:

Some commercial enterprises purport to offer such services for a fee. However, such “names” have no formal or official validity whatever: A few bright stars have ancient, traditional Arabic names, but otherwise stars have just catalogue numbers and positions on the sky. Similar rules on “buying” names apply to star clusters and galaxies as well.  For bodies in the Solar System, special procedures for assigning official names apply, but in no case are commercial transactions involved.

all understood… but still there is something romantic and interesting about the idea, symbolic or imaginary though it may be. and why not?

to be honest until last night i’d forgotten about the super massive nuclear reactor in deep space which bares my name. such is the lunacy of the human mind. when i remembered i thought “hmmmm, perhaps this is the way it is for our intelligent designer (better known as god), perhaps his girlfriend (and cats) presented him with a nice shiny universe for being a swell sort of fella and after a month or two he just plain forgot?” well, i refuse to be lumped in such thoughtless company so i decided to search out my star.

first i referred to the lushly illustrated and strikingly detailed star map the good folks at star namer sent me. i poured over it’s every gorgeous inch soaking in the glory which was my star’s immediate neighborhood. here- take a look for yourself.

did you catch that? i know it’s hard to take it all in. click on it for some more detail. (i’ll wait… what do i care i’ll live on for countless ages, i’ve got a star named after me.)

impressive star chart huh? yeah, well, i have to say that didn’t quite do it for me. as such i thought perhaps if i fired up the ol’ starry night software i have here perhaps i could get some more context, perhaps the reality of this abstraction would become just a smidgeon more clear…

hmmm. guess not. to be honest trying to use this software to locate something was not much fun, mostly because i haven’t the faintest idea how to use it. for another thing my certificate lists my star’s right ascension in decimal form rather than the “hours” format commonly used. i spent some time out there trying to figure out the conversion but let me make an admission right here and now. mathematically, i am, how you say? retarded. seriously. if there is a planet orbiting the star jaime morrison don’t expect any complex messages to emanate from it, unless it arrives in the form of pretty pictures written on alien space paper and folded into a gigantic alien space paper airplane…

anyhow after the fact i noticed that snazzy chart star namers sent had the coordinates written on it in the more user friendly format but by that time starry night decided i’d plumbed space’s depths quite enough and refused to start up again. “grrrrrrrr! impudent software! you dare displease lord morrison? don’‘t you realize i have a star named after me!!!”

in any case i retreated into google to try and find some searchable star maps. i was hell bent on seeing this damned star of mine in a little more detail or at very least in some decodable context to better fuel my romantic (though imaginary) notions. my first effort supplied me with this-

wow! so mysterious. really fires the imagination doesn’t it? i believe that green box is the location of fearsome and magnificent jaime morrison. though i could be mistaken. click it for a closer look if you so please. must say though this is not quite what i had in mind. after fiddling about with various mocking text fields and smirking radio buttons i managed to wring this bit of photographic data from the digital ether-

positively hubble-like is it not? so very majestic… anyhow that about did it for me. yes, that is correct- even great men whose names are writ forever in the heavens must occasionally admit defeat.  i can no more find this star using software, math, or the internet, than i could fly to it on the back of a blind manatee. all romantic musings about one’s own imaginary spot in the heavens must as a result stop here.

if there are any kind hearted astronomers out there who happen to have control of some massive research station atop a dormant volcano or something, i’d love a nice glossy 8 x 10 of this region: ra- 13:34 dec- -59d 42. or any further information at all…

for the rest of you why not check out albrecht dürer’s painfully gorgeous woodcut series: the revelation of st john (apocalypse) 1497-98, from where the thumbnail which started this post was culled.

the book was written in 1999 though much of it takes place in what was then the near future and what is for today’s readers the very near future. a lot has happened in the years in between both technologically and politically, two aspects the book focuses on. in as much some of themes and details will seem oddly familiar while others will seem oddly foreign, like glimpsing the reality quantum forces did not deposit you in, but which branched away from you ever so slightly. 

by way of introduction to the book let me just say this: it’s a story of crimes unpunished and punishments unwarranted, of drugs, religious and political fervor, of sex and sects, of revolutionaries, of terrorism, of assassinations both state sanctioned and otherwise, of bioengineers and hackers, of desperation, anger, and unexpected kindness. in the simplest sense it’s a story of the search, its small precious rewards and it’s crushing disappointments. in a larger sense it’s a story of battling ideologies, the theme which just so happens to make this book a fantasy as well, in that peppered throughout are liberal resistance groups and erudite lefties working below the radar to change the world for the better.

chapters 1-15 which we’ve made available so far are little more than a introduction to what lay ahead but if you decide to dive in they ought to keep you busy for a while. check back for additional chapters and look out for the pdf coming soon. (i’ve added a link to the projects section of the sidebar.)

i hope you enjoy and even though he’s moved on to his new book already i’m sure tom hopes so too.

part 1 of the series which you’ll find below is comprised of 8 posters taken mostly from the library of congress’ image archive. click the link below each to see the source poster. as always- enjoy.

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well, that’s it for part 1. we encourage other nonist locals to create their own. all comments welcome.

quote: beardsley had an unswerving tendency towards the fantastic of the gloomier and “unwholesome” sort. His treatment of most subjects was revolutionary; he deliberately ignored proportion and perspective, and the “freedom from convention” which he displayed caused his work to be judged with harshness. In certain phases of technique he especially excelled; and his earlier methods of dealing with the single line in conjunction with masses of black are in their way unsurpassed, except in the art of Japan, the country which probably gave his ideas some assistance. He was always an ornamentist, rather than an illustrator; and his work must be judged from that point of view.

i dig his work. here are some images for your consideration (click all for large versions)

for more images check out artrenewal’s page, or artpassions’ page. you can see le mort de’ arthur here.

beardsley was also a writer. check out his unfinished erotic work under the hill which is accompanied by some of his most complex illustrations.

tis all. goodnight.

There are so many good, pithy quotes here that the whole essay is close to being one long, pithy quote. if david mamet and quentin tarantino write a career-advice pamphlet, it’s going to end up a lot like this:

“THE SEX & CASH THEORY: “The creative person basically has two kinds of jobs: One is the sexy, creative kind. Second is the kind that pays the bills. Sometimes the task in hand covers both bases, but not often. This tense duality will always play center stage. It will never be transcended.”
......................................................................
There’s no correlation between creativity and equipment ownership. None. Zilch. Nada.
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Recently I heard Chris Ware, currently one of the top 2 or 3 most critically acclaimed cartoonists on the planet, describe his profession as “unrewarding”.
When the guy at the top of the ladder you’re climbing describes the view from the top as “unrewarding”, be concerned. Heh.”

They should tell you this stuff in grade school, methinks. save a lot of misery.

isn’t there something ethically questionable about experimenting on any sentient creature? we poke around in the genetic code of everything under the sun. we inject lab animals with every sort of poison. we create mutants daily. we infect animals hourly. hell we test out our fucking mascara on them don’t we? we have been chimera makers for quite a while now. only the part human chimera gets people upset. isn’t that just like us? ethics? hahaha.

with cloning it’s essentially the same stumbling block because let’s face it, no one really gives a shit about cloning animals, it’s the implications for humanity (whether it be the possible effect to our diets or the portents for “replicants”) which make people take notice, speak up, and get hot under the ethical collar. isn’t there something sort of gross about that? if we are talking ethics shouldn’t the lines be pretty rigid? seems they are very blurry indeed.

in a way it seems like the exact opposite tact would be the most ethical doesn’t it? you can’t ask an animal to volunteer can you? “excuse me mrs. pig would it be alright if we grew some human organs in your future progeny for a possible harvest operation down the line?” suuuuuweeeeeee suuuuuweeeeeee!!!! “guess that’s a yes? thanks mrs. pig” even the benefits our noodling aim for are benefits for us alone about 90% of the time aren’t they? isn’t all the “ethics” talk a bit hollow?

don’t get me wrong, i’m not not holding any poster paint signs, chanting outside max factors r&d facility. actually it seems to me the chimera genie is out of the bottle. so is the clone genie. personally i’m all for letting the future arrive. but this weird parallax view of ethics bugs me a little. only a thought. probably just cranky today.

anyhow the story is interesting, all perceived hypocrisy aside, and so are chimera in general. so there.

His traditional side gives us handsome sailing ships and tiny landscapes to get lost in. His edgy side is, well, everything else on the page. There’s drinkin’ and suicide, and savagely cynical views of war in the ‘drafted’ cartoons, and outrageously dark ribaldryin ‘dan’l boone and the editor.’ sometimes he just refuses to pander to the audience with a joke at all, as when a character in the middle of a sea battle shouts that this is no time for humor; other times the joke sneaks up from out of nowhere, like the priceless expression of horror on the faces of the mice in the last panel of ‘this is for what you did to billy.’

red meat has been around a while too, and max cannon has some books out as well as this website. The titles are an art unto themselves, offering such nasty turns of phrase as product-free cruelty and countertop tapeworm dispenser. always funny, and sometimes just plain true, as in something warm for the whelps.

The other strip I want to mention is mark fiore’s animated political cartoons. this week’s flash animation is called freedom of the prosecution. you can see it at his site or at mother jones, one of the few honest political magazines you can buy.

on the one hand there is a theory that the mural was simply meant as a fertility symbol. common enough and no big deal. on the other hand there is a theory, proposed by dr. george ferzoco, director of the center for tuscan studies, that the image in fact represents “by far the earliest depiction of in art of women acting as witches.” more than that though he believes it was intended as a warning from the guelphs, supporters of the papacy, of the anarchy and licentiousness that would befall the town if it fell into the hands of it’s political rivals the ghibellines. as he puts it It’s a message from the Guelphs, telling people that if the Ghibellines are allowed power they will bring with them heresy, sexual perversion, civic strife, and witchcraft. this reading would make the mural essentially the only surviving example of a medieval political propaganda “poster.”

what does dr. ferzoco base this reading of the mural on? as it happens it’s based on sections of an infamous book the malleus maleficarum (the witch hammer), first published in 1486. what is the malleus maleficarum? quote: It served as a guidebook for Inquisitors during the Inquisition, and was designed to aid them in the identification, prosecution, and dispatching of Witches. It set forth, as well, many of the modern misconceptions and fears concerning witches and the influence of witchcraft. The questions, definitions, and accusations it set forth in regard to witches, which were reinforced by its use during the Inquisition, came to be widely regarded as irrefutable truth. Those beliefs are held even today by a majority of Christians in regard to practitioners of the modern “revived” religion of Witchcraft, or Wicca. And while the Malleus itself is largely unknown in modern times, its effects have proved long lasting.

the sections which helped illuminate the possible meaning of the massa marittima mural for dr. ferzoco delt specifically with the witch’s proclivity for penis theft. evidently it was a common belief in the middle ages that witches collected male organs in great numbers, as many as 20 or 30 at a time, and put them in a bird’s nest for safe keeping “where they move themselves like living members, and eat oats and corn.” ...did you catch that? haha. fantastic! dr. ferzoco evidently noticed that one of the female figures in the mural seemed to be holding up a stick to the tree with a birdsnest at the end. he put two and two together and got- witches.

It may seem a cryptic message to the modern mind but Ferzoco says it would have been obvious to the average medieval Tuscan. They would have got the message instantly They considered things we consider obscene to be perfectly normal, and using a phallus as part of a political message would not have been an issue

the malleus maleficarum actually goes into great detail on the subject collecting a number of “true” accounts of the practice. as a matter of fact part 1 section 9 is titled whether witches may work some prestidigatory illusion so that the male organ appears to be entirely removed and separate from the body. the answer to which (in part) is as follows:

There is no doubt that certain witches can do marvellous things with regard to male organs, for this agrees with what has been seen and heard by many, and with the general account of what has been known concerning that member through the senses of sight and touch. And as to how this thing is possible, it is to be said that it can be done in two ways, either actually and in fact, as the first arguments have said, or through some prestige or glamour. But when it is performed by witches, it is only a matter of glamour; although it is no illusion in the opinion of the sufferer. For his imagination can really and actually believe that something is not present, since by none of his exterior sense, such as sight or touch, can he perceive that it is present.

of course that is not even the tip of the penis stealing iceberg as far as the the malleus maleficarum is concerned. part 2. question 1. chapter 7 is titled how, as it were, they deprive man of his virile member. a section of which is as follows:

In the town of Ratisbon a certain young man who had an intrigue with a girl, wishing to leave her, lost his member; that is to say, some glamour was cast over it so that he could see or touch nothing but his smooth body. In his worry over this he went to a tavern to drink wine; and after he had sat there for a while he got into conversation with another woman who was there, and told her the cause of his sadness, explaining everything, and demonstrating in his body that it was so. The woman was astute, and asked whether he suspected anyone; and when he named such a one, unfolding the whole matter, she said: “If persuasion is not enough, you must use some violence, to induce her to restore to you your health.” So in the evening the young man watched the way by which the witch was in the habit of going, and finding her, prayed her to restore to him the health of his body. And when she maintained that she was innocent and knew nothing about it, he fell upon her, and winding a towel tightly about her neck, choked her, saying: “Unless you give me back my health, you shall die at my hands.” Then she, being unable to cry out, and growing black, said: “Let me go, and I will heal you.” The young man then relaxed the pressure of the towel, and the witch touched him with her hand between the thighs, saying: “Now you have what you desire.” And the young man, as he afterwards said, plainly felt, before he had verified it by looking or touching, that his member had been restored to him by the mere touch of the witch.

A similar experience is narrated by a certain venerable Father from the Dominican House of Spires, well known in the Order for the honest of his life and for his learning. “One day,” he says, “while I was hearing confessions, a young man came to me and, in the course of his confession, woefully said that he had lost his member. Being astonished at this, and not being willing to give it easy credence, since the opinion of the wise it is a mark of light-heartedness to believe too easily, I obtained proof of it when I saw nothing on the young man’s removing his clothes and showing the place. Then, using the wisest counsel I could, I asked whether he suspected anyone of having so bewitched him. And the young man said that he did suspect someone, but that she was absent and living in Worms. Then I said: ‘I advise you to go to her as soon as possible and try your utmost to soften her with gentle words and promises’; and he did so. For he came back after a few days and thanked me, saying that he was whole and had recovered everything. And I believed his words, but again proved them by the evidence of my eyes.”

sounds suspiciously like blaming a witch for impotence dosen’t it? and you might also have noticed that priest made sure to check out his parishioners member “to be sure” a coupe of times? haha. anyhow the chapter goes on to explain in detail why satan would instruct his minions to steal penises, and how he would set about accomplishing the feat. intersting reading to be sure!

if your curiosity is peaked and you’d like to know more about what exactly satan and his witches might have in store for you or if your a man, your penis, the malleus maleficarum is available in full for your reading pleasure here. 

for more in depth discussion of the debate over the massa marittima mural check out three monkeys online’s coverage

for more images of witches (mostly being tested, tortured, and burned) check out this gallery or this one

for an exhibition of books relating to the history of witchcraft and demonology check out damned art from the university of glasgow.

also there is the somewhat related images of circe and discourses of witchcraft, 1480-1580

lastly how about some empathy? experience a witch hunt for yourself with this simulation.

and remember guys, beware the penis thieves, they are everywhere!

ah “the good ol’ days” when stereotypes roamed the earth freely stomping through the glades of human perception in all their grotesque glory. crazy.

In any case, ernst is one of my favorite artists; he brings a certain specificity to his hallucinations, and they are always intensely beautiful as well as menacing. there’s the sex-boiling-over of the robing of the bride, the carnival sideshow of celebes, the soap-opera voyeurism of the blessed virgin chastises the infant jesus before three witnesses: a.b., p.e. and the artist, the shamanic, demonic, alien rage of the fireside angel, the many-worlds vision of vox angelica. Ernst always seemed to say something witty with his brush, as in the “i’m much weirder than anything i paint” implication of surrealism and painting. the best reason to make it to the shows (regardless of who the artist is?) with the exception of those artists who only left a tiny number of works, most shows have worthwhile works that never made it into the books you’ve read. of those on the images page, there are at least three paintings i never saw before, and i like them just as much as the famous ones.

i must say it instantly reminded me of this, which i was totally fascinated with as a lad. if you go to the site you’ll also notice one pose which looks suspiciously like shatner in mid-over-act. good stuff.

There has been something I’ve wanted to say for a long while now, and it’s something that does not get said often, at least not in a straight forward way. Our response, as a nation, to the terrorist attacks of 2001 has been the wrong one. Perhaps they were only natural, but in retrospect as I watch our country mutate, it seems obvious they were wrong none the less. We have taken the national tragedy of a single day and stretched its frantic, fearful, and angry emotions over our entire culture ever since. We have let an act of terrorism change the fabric of our every day lives. In short we have handed a greater victory to those who seek to destroy us than the victory they won for themselves with their terrorism.

In our case much of the blame for this result can be laid at the feet of the despicable group of individuals which comprises our own government. It is a government which in the wake of a tragedy cloaked its self-serving aims in the populous’ fear in order to further unrelated aims. It is a government which managed to profit politically from the tragedy and managed to parley that profit into monetary profit for its supporters, in no small degree by creating new tragedies. It is a government which lied to it’s people and which resisted at every turn the efforts to learn the truth. Most importantly though it is a government which has sought to expand its own powers at the expense of the people themselves using the rhetoric of patriotism and national security which our tragedy supplied them.

The reason I say “much of the blame” rather than all of the blame is, of course, because it was we who allowed everything which followed 9/11 to happen. It is we who allowed our own collective good sense to be compromised and let ourselves be exploited because of fear. And Now that fear mongering government is even more deeply entrenched despite not having brought the perpetrators of our national tragedy to justice, preferring instead to invade iraq, push the stilted morality of its base, and use the greater powers granted them in our moment of need to secure their own positions. while to this day no one has been held accountable for the internal lapses in intelligence and security or for the acts themselves.

The omnipresent phrase “post 9/11 world” is a glaring linguistic example of what our choices have yielded. This phrase is a canned rhetorical device brought out by disingenuous officials to help justify anything we as citizens might otherwise balk at. A reminder that we ought to be afraid and that we ought to allow our government to run roughshod over our rights, our constitution, and our better judgement because they are doing so to “protect us.”

In truth there is a “post 9/11 world” only so far as we, the american people, have allowed one to exist. There certainly ought to be post 9/11 institutions- a post 9/11 cia, a post 9/11 fbi, a post 9/11 pentagon, and a post 9/11 executive branch. there ought to be post 9/11 security and post 9/11 intelligence. But as for a post 9/11 world? well had we made the right choices the “post 9/11 world” ought to be very much like the pre-9/11 world as far as the average citizen is concerned.

would be proof of a country and a people not willing to yield or bend in the face of extremism, brutality, and terror.

What we have allowed in it’s place is a “world” changed. One which has transformed a national tragedy into a crass political tool. one of secrecy, torture, preemptive strikes, meaningless warning systems, jingoism, a castrated press, and a bitterly divided populous. One which seems to reward liars, fear mongers, war mongers, shit stirrers, and the corporate interest they are beholden to with greater power. All because we were scared and angry.

today the very language which is meant to describe our values, words like free, patriot, terrorist, evil, torture, and democracy, have begun to lose their meaning in the cloud of rhetoric and hypocrisy invoked in the memory of 9/11. meanwhile we inch ever further right, closer to the extremism that fuels those who attack us. all of this because we allowed it to happen in our hours of need.

so londoners, i feel for you. mourn, ask questions, and be angry. demand justice. but try and remember in a battle of ideologies the only way to truly be defeated is to abandon what you believe, to willingly relinquish that which differentiates you from the enemy. be careful. look to america as an example of the pitfalls. these terrorist can not kill us all, but if we abandon our principles and surrender our freedoms out of fear, they do not need to. good luck londoners and our condolences to those of you who have lost someone.