Uncle TNUC (pronounced ‘tee-nuk’) has his feet firmly planted in ‘80s ethos and culture. So much so that I don’t even think you can call it nostalgia. The dude may very well have been beamed thirty years into the future and ended up here. Shit, Bill & Ted did it.
As he, himself, describes his origin, he “had all the normal teenage fantasies…cars, girls, money. Then his parents left for a week and all his fantasies came true. This is the place where those fantasies will all slowly unfold. TNUC is a sweaty trip to the edge and past it.” That should give you some idea of with whom you’re dealing.
I don’t remember exactly when or how I found this guy but all of his mixes are masterpieces in their own right. However, there’s nothing like boozing with friends or sliding off the cotton panties of some hardbody to the headbangin’ tuneage on this most recent mix. Brought to you by Uncle TNUC in association with the blonde-haired, blue-eyed bodybuilder/musician Mike Ballermann, the Two Crude Dudes mix totally rips.
Named for a ‘beat em’ up’ style game released on the Sega Mega Drive console, the forty-minute long cruise down the Sunset Strip flexes prime cuts from big names like RATT and Poison amongst lesser-knowns like Steelheart and Danger Danger. Burn the midnight oil (and whatever else you can find) with the hairspray heroes of yesterday. Two Crude Dudes is “twelve tracks of twisted steel and sex appeal.” Need I say more?
It’s been a while since I’ve laced the bloglin with some juggalo infused flavor, but it’s about that time again. There has been a lot happening in the juggalo world in recent times. Twiztid and Blaze were arrested for felony weed possession, ICP was on 1,000 ways to die, and this was just this week alone. Speaking of this week, this past Tuesday The American Psycho Tour invaded NYC’s Hammerstein Ballroom and left it a faygo soaked shell of a venue. This tour featured the likes of juggalo favorites Wolfpac, Big Hutch, Blaze Ya Dead Homie, Twiztid, and of course the Insane Clown Posse. ICP has been making it back to NYC after being banned for almost 10 years. They played a sold out Gramercy Theater back in April which was followed by a midnight cruise around Manhattan after party. You can check out the pics from that night right here. (Can you find myself and art director, Mike Jones?)
The show had a good turnout of juggalos new and old. I saw a lot of familiar faces from years past which was pretty cool. I met up with my buddy Jason Shaltz whom you might remember from his Juggalo art gallery we featured at 350 Broadway almost one year ago and who also has a Juggalo Movie in the works which was recently covered here on the bloglin. We grabbed our lady friends (first timers) and made our way to the front. The crowd was into everything from the jump with Wolfpac who I think has been playing the same set since I first saw them about 10 years prior, oh well. Big Hutch was next, mediocre stage performance at best and it kind of killed the crowd, but hey it was still early here.
Next up was the dead man himself, Blaze. He had a huge clock backdrop and did all his standby tracks which the Juggalos sang along to. He even did his version of ICP’s Dead Body Man which was fitting being as it was originally released as a Hallowicked giveaway single in 2002. One of the best things about this tour was how quickly it moved between sets. I’ve been to A LOT of Psychopathic tours and this is by far the best in terms of turnover time between sets.
Co-headliners Twiztid hit the stage next with a backdrop of body parts and a padded room. Jamie Madrox recently lost a lot of weight and with that came tons of energy in their set. From start to finish they were all over the set getting the crowd all riled up. Their set was all over their discography musically. Twiztid played something from every album I believe and it was definitely one of the best I’ve seen out of them. The song selection and crowd interaction was on point which got the juggalos rabid for what was coming next.
The national anthem hits with a circus twist and creepy laughter of clowns. Next thing you know you’re staring at two giant hatchetmen, the letters “ICP” all made up of lightbulbs, and 4 huge bins filled to the brim with Root beer Faygo. From then on you know it’s going to be the madness only the ICP can bring for the next hour. Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope rode out on the stage with these two custom made tricycles and then burst into the song “In Your Face”. From the point of the first lyric and faygo cracked they had the juggalos in their hands. Moshing, crowdsurfing, singing along, titties, and everything else that comes with the territory was in full effect.
They played a pretty basic ICP setlist, but surprised everyone when they brought out Twiztid mid show to perform “Homies” and “The Marsh Lagoon” together. They did the ironic hipster favorite “Miracles” towards the end in which we all made our way past the barricade. Once the closing song “BANG POW BOOM!” started my crew got up on stage and blasted faygo rockets into the sea of juggalos for the next 6 or so minutes until the music stopped the the seemingly endless supply of faygo well… ended.
All in all it was a great show (as always) featuring all the major players on Psychopathic Records roster. The tour has a few dates left and ends with the annual Hallowicked Clown Show in Detroit, Michigan on Monday, October 31st. I suggest checking it out if in any of the areas they are touring this weekend.
Our buddy Igor from Driven By Boredom was there taking pictures as well (like almost all the ones used in this post). Check out his full gallery here. I would like to publicly apologize to my cab driver as I left a puddle of faygo and confetti in his cab which he didn’t seem to notice, sorry G! Hopefully next time the clowns are in town I can convince Mr. Greg Мишка himself to tag along in the festivities. There should be more galleries from this show from our buddy Jason Shaltz and Nik as well in the near future so keep those eyes peeled!
Don’t ask me how someone decided that an animated children’s series would make the perfect forum in which to flex their aptitude for media mash-ups. I can’t claim complete ignorance to the phenomenon of a mature audience adapting kid’s TV as their guiding light, seeing as how I wrote a post last month about my obsession, and that of many other 20-something males, with iCarly. There’s no judgment here, ‘bro-nies’ (the self-proclaimed nickname for guys into My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic). It just so happened that there is a whole smattering of these lonely saps that have a thing for fantastical talking horses who, if I were a betting man, would have my money on their appearance on To Catch A Predator in the near future.
The ‘bronies’ don’t just watch the show religiously, collect the toy’s from their daughters’ happy meals, or gather behind closed doors to share their passion for the show with other men of the same camp, they also make fan videos. Mashing the rainbow mares with different songs and movie/TV show dialogue, these fanatics have undergone scrutiny from the press in that they have not only been able to avoid prosecution for copyright infringement but have been glorified by Hasbro studios, the company that owns the rights to MLP (My Little Pony; it’s just easier this way).
These amateur editors are just as guilty of breaking the royalty-reinforcing law as mash-up artists like Girl Talk and video DJ, Pogo in the minds of the public. But what happens when the company whose material is unquestionably being used has their head screwed on straight and decides to shake the hands of the devotees instead of demanding they empty their pockets or face legal action? I’ll tell you exactly what happens, both the owner and borrower share a mutual appreciation for the output instead of suing and countersuing. Hasbro has even released a video that thanks the viewers for their loyalty and promotion. That’s the way it should be but I doubt any significant change will come from this, just a message to the people that artists and DJs (audio, video, whatever) can live together in perfect harmony free of bad blood and court costs.
Have you ever clicked on a YouTube video only to receive a message and a red diagonal-line mouthed face, I think this means uncertainty but they know just what they have done, that reads “This video has been removed due to copyright blah, blah, blah?” Of course you have and that’s because you can’t share anything online anymore without having an army of tight-assed lawyers chasing after you making threats and appeals. I know it’s a little different seeing as how we’re discussing mash-ups and the recognition of their artistry by big business but it’s more of the same, evil bequeathed from the same toughened, lifeless bosom.
Now that I’ve gone completely off the rails we can start talking about video mashing again, an act with same basic premise as sampling beats or songs. I mean we’ve got Seinfeld, The Watchmen, 300, The Dark Knight, Lord of The Rings, Inglorious Basterds, The Hangover, Wu-Tang Clan (one of the most mashed up groups ever), and much more copywritten output being lip-synced by a bunch of ponies for goodness sake.
It doesn’t get any better than this and I’m not alone in my assumption, Hasbro thought so too, and that’s what matters. Meanwhile, I’ve been enjoying these brony videos, the editing is unreal and the hardwork that went into them, clear as day. Bottom line, stop censoring online parodies and tributes. Haven’t you heard of viral marketing, morons?
Variety wrote a full-on analysis of this timeless battle over creative licensing and ownership through the twinkly eyes of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and it’s available to read here. Equestrian Swag!
Attention faithful Kaiju fans, today’s your lucky day. If you don’t know what “kaiju” is, do a simple internet search and don’t get down on yourself. Prepare for a low-budget, live-action Japanese video that’s sure to arouse with some seductive Ultraman worship. We’ve got some fine young ladies in cosplay, costume play, fighting, wrestling, and all-around rubbing up on each other.
In a nutshell, the video is a trailer for, what I’ve deduced, is a softcore DVD centered on a fetishized fantasy realm where human women and plant beasts engage in some intergalactic heavy petting. It’s called Birabiran Unlocked vs. Bijorin Space Detective, that’s the awful English translation, and it’s everything a grown man could ever want.
What I’ve taken from this strange, campy videography is a lot of high-pitched wailing (as with any Asian porn), some staged kick-punch-kick-punch fight scenes, a theme song that shreds, and a few well-timed crotch shots. We may have just stumbled across a blossoming yet concealed genre of dirty movies that crosses tokusatsu-style battling with a little tits n’ ass. I don’t know about you, but I see dollar signs. Especially in a cultural market where shit like genki-genkki and fake snuff films like the Guinea Pig series is sold and consumed like hot cakes, it comes as no surprise that superheroes and giant monsters give the Japanese throbbing hard-ons.
The short video, uploaded by galshocker who I take it is the director, concludes with some rubbery vine choking and laser-sword slashing, you gotta love it.
Nope, I ain’t talkin about an imported Bob Dylan release rather the people of Rawa Buaya have developed a dirty little habit of laying themselves down on the railroad tracks. ‘Why’, you ask? In an attempt to harness the electric power of the rails and maybe extract some healing energy from them. This phenomenon is a photojournalists dream, with hundreds of families spread out up and down the track, sprawled out along miles of wood and steel as extremities make contact with electrified metal.
Indonesians with ailments are all making the pilgrimage to one place in hopes of soothing any physical or mental malady. Organizing themselves in a strange fashion, by stretching their bodies and limbs across the dual-railed train track, the people are convinced of an intangible remedial force coming down the line.
I’ve got some days off, so naturally I’m tossing the idea around in my head about possibly making a trip down to the subway station and lounging on the third rail for a few hours relaxing, pondering my existence, and praying I don’t get sliced in half. In all seriousness, this is a fascinating anthropological ritual that draws my interest with just a photograph. Dangerous? Yes. Interesting? Definitely. Stupid? Eh, not gonna’ touch that one.
I’m a big supporter of chocolate, it’s polymorphous deliciousness usurped by no other flavor, but even more enthralled by it’s fetishization and adoption as a standard in the sack, redefining what it means to “eat someone out”. It is that line in the sand, between sheer consumables and sugary kinkiness, that is kicked to the wind by this artsy video. Hershey’s syrup has never looked so good as it did when sixteen gallons of it were ejaculated, bottle after bottle, onto the pallid, pristine, and yearning face of Polish visual artist, Martynka Wawrzyniak for her 2010 project, Chocolate. When this is all over, you’ll want to wash yourself either of perversity or of an odd sticky feeling you just can’t shake.
Gaze as she literally drowns in the thick liquid, engulfing and swimming around her in an off-color, surrealist fashion. The syrup showers her from a container placed just out of frame creating an unusual POV style effect that oozes with a morbid uncomfortableness and defiling sexuality. This isn’t her first foray into strangely deviant art experimentation. In fact, Martynka has done loads of freaky shit including a firing squad of children armed with ketchup blasting away at a blindfolded, white-clothed, and all around helpless girl. You could try touching yourself to that one but the screams of all the little chillins ruin the moment or maybe just add to the kinky aesthetic, you be the judge of that.
Shoving aside the overwhelming connotations, the beauty and splendor of this piece is something to be not just noted but extolled as a suffer-for-art kind of production. The artist gasps for air, fighting suffocation but refusing to move her body, in an unreality constructed through ingenious positioning of camera, subject, and medium. Check out her other animalistic exploits on her Vimeo page, which can be conveniently accessed here.
The newest signees to Psychopathic Records should be no stranger to anyone who follows Detroit hip hop, The Dayton Family. They came onto the scene in 1993 and have released a slew of great singles and albums. This is the video for the newest single off the new Psycho EP released on Psychopathic’s sub label Hatchet House entitled “Cocaine.”
This video is ridiculous and I love it. The video features cameos by our two favorite clowns Violent J and Shaggy 2 Dope, not to mention a few other familiar faces from within the Juggalo realm indulging in that white girl. It’s good to see Psychopathic branching out, lets just hope it lasts.
If you haven’t yet heard, the History Channel has opened up a Pop-Up Shop in Times Square focusing on their two hit reality shows, Pawn Stars & American Pickers. I am a huge fan of both of the shows, and wanted to head out to their opening to take a peak.
I have to say I was a little disappointed by the “shop” itself. In a couple of articles about it I had read that there would be items for sale from the show. It had a few items on display, but none of it looked like it was for sale. They did have a huge wall of really kitschy show t-shirts and bobble heads. But that’s not really my thing.
I did however get to meet Mike Wolfe and Frank Fritz, the stars of American Pickers. They basically have my dream job. They drive around the country looking for junk, and then re-selling it on eBay or in their shops. I usually don’t get star-struck or flustered, but I wasn’t sure what to say to them.
Mike and I compared our silver rings, and he commented on my Leica D-Lux 4. He pointed out that they had a some 1930s Leica on display that they had picked up recently. They signed one of these cards over to me, not sure that I wanted one, but its cool to have more and more junk. If you want to check it out for yourself, the shop will be open until December 31st.
I have been having visions. Visions of posters. And posters. And posters. And stuff. And stuff. And stuff.
I’ve been cleaning my teeny tiny little lavender house, in preparation for the coming spawn, and for me, that mostly means finding all the little cubby holes where I’ve got art, toys, or ‘stuff’ stashed, and trying to do something with all of it.
Did you know that in order to properly archive a 24×36″ poster you need to store it flat, in a $2 bag, mounted to a $7 board? Which is all well and good…but what do you do when you’ve got 200 of those posters? And then roughly twice that number of 19×25″ posters?
A word to any burgeoning poster artists out there: Stick to 18×24. Max. It’s cheaply frame-able. Super standard. If someone doesn’t want to frame it, they can buy a profolio and store it—like, forever—safely. Something about the hubris of my youth had me seeking out the biggest, most flamboyant artwork known to man, and now, in my ripe old 30s, I find myself wishing that it was all 11×17 so I could put it into a lunchbox.
But oh well. Wah Wah. My poster storage woes are not why I’m here today, children. To be honest, I had every intention of reminding you of the scene in ET where Drew Barrymore hides ET in with all her stuffed animals, and right when you started to slip into your feelings of nostalgia, I would, like, crossfade over into the same scene from Interview with a Vampire where Kirsten Dunst has the dead body buried in with all her dolls and then Tom Cruise acts like a total dandy about it…and then I was going to correlate that to organizing/going through my collection of collections, and THEN!!! I was going to arrive at the point: cleaning out my ‘For Bloglin’ drafts box and dropping a bunch of mildly-entertaining-to-wildly hilarious-depending-on-your-mood video clips and links on you.
It’s a stretch, I know. The lazy freakonomist in me would love to dole these out one at a time over weeks and weeks thus making me seem like a hugely prolific blogger, but we all know I’m not going to do that. It’s now or never, folks. So, without further a-do: behold my dust bunnies. Fear them, but only after you chuckle a time or two.
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So first things first. I’m surprised Cornbluth didn’t get the drop on me with this, but! for anybody’s who’s interested, a 5-track EP of the Trent Reznor score to the coming Fincher/Sorkin-helmed ‘The Social Network’ is available for download over at Nullco. I have been listening to it for a moment, and I can’t tell you how I feel about it, past the fact that I do not hate it.
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Next, while you’re pondering whether or not you care about Trent Reznor, I’ll hit you with some Meowrissey, which is nothing new to anybody anywhere, but it came up in conversation this week and, well, here you go. I am mixtaping the shit out of you right now.
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You’re happy now, so I’ll hit you with some sol: Our solar system is a wicked-big place, son, and you best recognize. I am—of course—so totally excited by these photos. In fact, I’m heading to the mountains this weekend with a telescope, a palette of beer, a 98% waxing moon, and Jupiter-at-large in the Eastern sky. I am hoping to bring back some photos. Behold my amateur dude diligence.
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Keeping things light and flossy with some leftfield Suntory Time. Your head wound is a super power. Super.
Do you know Chad Vader? He’s hilarious. A dear friend sent this to me when I sent her a photo of my favorite slave Leia from Comicon. You will have to wait until next year’s girlpost for her. She is worth the wait.
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Incidentally, right where Journey or Foreigner would be anyway, in drops the meaning of the internet. This, to me, really sums up YouTube.
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As constant readers may know, I have a love/hate thing with Ke$ha…she is my fallback whenever I go to a wedding and request BBD ‘Poison’ (the fucking THRILLER of 1990, jeez. Could that song have been ANY bigger?) to no avail. Mrs. Hateball found this and got mad when I told her that I prefer TNG. This was pretty funny, however.
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And, like all good mixtapes (when did this become a mixtape? I should have set that up in the totally pointless beginning of this post, huh?) this one ends with an ironic cover…that being a faux-vintage faux-television commercial for a modern flip of a vintage toy version of a classic icon from a max-zeitgeist movie. Perfect. Almost as good as Rammstein covering Depeche Mode.
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And now, of course, you want to date me. Because I’m standing on your lawn with the Bloglin hoisted over my head, blaring 8-bit The Final Countdown and wearing a t-shirt with a picture of the solar system on it and I’ve got toys in my backpack. And I live in a lavender house.
Holy fuck. Wants wants wants. I remember first seeing Alien when I was 12. My grandfather was drunk and played it for me, forever scarring my innocent and impressionable mind. Since then, I’ve been an Alien freak, seeing every movie related to the franchise at least a dozen times.
Hypebeast just posted this ring made by Crazy Pig and I’m in love with it! Well, everything but the price. Please make a poor-mans / unemployed cycling blogger version. Thanks.
