kay, first things first. i can't believe it happened to me. it worked. i'm five inches larger. all i can say is, kids, do read through your junk mail folder carefully. you can thank me later.
funny how i never noticed how beige my poor martyr of an iMac was. oh, we've been through so much. we'll always have the memories. and the discoloration. here, baby, wanna go for a ride?
what else. the coca-cola company of panama is sponsoring an art contest over at the panamanian museum of contemporary art, a generally noble institution. 4k, 3k, and 2k if you win, plus 1k if they like your crap so much that they want to keep it. that is thousand american dollars, not kroner, you philistines. the catch is, of course, that the submissions "must include iconic references or symbology allusive to Coca-Cola." also, one must surrender copyright of the work, which can be reproduced on any medium for any purpose in any place, at the sponsors' whim. so, hey, wouldn't it be funny if one submitted a version of someone else's version of someone else's work? what do you call a pop reference to a pop reference? 
enter Large Coca-Cola, 1962
keep those fingers crossed, baby. i may just buy you something pretty.
what else. this weekend, after almost drowning in our beautiful neck of the pacific ocean, i returned home to three dvds i rented from our local blockbuster. Lars von Trier's Epidemic, Sam Mendes' Jarhead, and Francis Ford Coppola's Apocalypse Now Redux. what was i thinking. looooved epidemic. nice and slow, not much happening at all except for the last like thirty seconds. beautifully photographed 32 mm film mixed in with shitty verité handheld 16 mm. i sustained an erection all through jarhead, and not only because i love sam mendes. i wonder which one of the village people Jake Gyllenhaal will channel for his next film. i was surprised when i heard mendes was doing an iraq war movie. so contemporary! but of course this one's about the vintage IW1. the desert's so bright. i need sunglasses. in a way, and very appropriately, nothing really happens on this one, either. i just realized that, yes, all white people do look the same. these boys need nametags. and o my god, i'm SO relieved to know that i'm not the only one who has a nirvana masturbation mixtape. really, i cried a little. and of course there's the inevitable apocalypse now intermezzo. which reminds me, shit, i have to see apocalypse now. now while conrad is still somewhat fresh in my mind. brb.
No comments:
Post a Comment