Tings Fall Apart II.

This vid from GOOD Magazine is prolly the slickest shit I've seen put forth by a magazine in a while. Excepting, of course, that Gigantic Clit pictorial Hustler ran a while back.

This goes out to all those in denial that we're witnessing the End. Especially that shithead who tried to dissuade me of this fact at that Pourhouse on 81st and Lex last year. Fuck I hated that dude. Here's hoping that I'm long gone before the jumpoff.

Cheers.

That's Metal.

Heavy Metal Monk yeah. Milan's Fr. Cesare Bonizzi and his outfit, Fratello Metallo ("Metal Brother").

Metal gets a bad rap yeah. Resigned to the droves of meatheads who undoubtedly enjoy it the world over, it's surely got its valid uses. The hipper-than-thou bespectacled vegan masses will find that metal is indeed the perfect soundtrack for: Fucking shit up and general problem causing; War; Laying down the Daddy Dick on some goth broad who at least looks 18; throwing your life away; Evading arrest; working your way to a .491 BAC; Even-more-horrific-than-usual DMT trips; peeling out in the Black Widow at 5am after being booted/banned from a certain Brooklyn "metal bar" ('Spirit In Black' being the order of the day on that occasion, thank you.); etc., etc., etc.

With that said, verrà la morte e avrà i tuoi occhi motherfuckers! Or something to that effect.

you are my tiny in my heart.

nippon.
show case.
nin.
god given.
year zero.
tokyo*kids.
marilyn.
an overflowing creampie in my heart's vagina.
so you think you can dance the downward spiral?

[]\[] [] []/[]
two in as many days.
for a reason.

Black Eye For This Black Guy.

Nine Inch Nails - "The Great Destroyer" (live in Bratislava)

When I was a child, my mother blessed me with the affectionate nickname of El Destructo, per my penchant for getting into her jewelry box and destroying her earrings and things.

If only we were to know how fitting the name would become down the line, as accelerating my own entropy (and often that of the flimsy, ingenuine spheres of interaction I've established) is all I truly care about, all I truly excel at... when we get down to it. Worry.

Trent Reznor is so dreamy.

Long Live The Club Queen...

R.I.P. K-Swift...

"I Met The Walrus"

From the Horse's Mouth:

"In 1969, a 14-year-old Beatle fanatic named Jerry Levitan, armed with a reel-to-reel tape deck, snuck into John Lennon's hotel room in Toronto and convinced John to do an interview about peace. 38 years later, Jerry has produced a film about it. 

Using the original interview recording as the soundtrack, director Josh Raskin has woven a visual narrative which tenderly romances Lennon's every word in a cascading flood of multipronged animation. 

Raskin marries the terrifyingly genius pen work of James Braithwaite with masterful digital illustration by Alex Kurina, resulting in a spell-binding vessel for Lennon's boundless wit, and timeless message."