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The Chapel of Angouleme is a Parking Lot

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ang20I sat cross-legged on the beaches of Hossegor, reading Lolita without raising suspicion from the locals, lest I be banished for eternity from the place where the Nazis dropped giant concrete bunkers, now cockeyed canvases of bulbous initials and other spray painted vagueries. Of course, the breasts, the rampant floppy pectorals of those females inclined to let the sun shine on bits normally left to our imagination as men starving for a subconscious return to the feeding habits of our infancy.

In the beachhouse I drank David Cronenberg’s piss, from 33cc shots of aluminum, poured in frosty heaps into frozen mugs, and slept in beds next to open windows and cork trees, scraping off some of the material and staring at crumbled bits in my palm. Tossing berries at my brothers and shouting drunkenly about religion.

And Angouleme! The fortress on its hill, Rin Tin Tin and Robert Crumb – walking striding loping to the river in search of art on the walls – alerted to a skeleton gesturing – a crossbones to his right – adjacent to the bridge – the keymaster of the parking structure that sits harmlessly enough.

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LINDSEY EBERT - ART, PROFESSIONALISM, and DACHSHUNDS

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1lin1

1lin2

To get inked by Lindsey Ebert, one is oft required to make an appointment.

There are others before you. You must wait. And waiting can be good in terms of tattoos.

One shouldn't rush into such a relationship with art.

This is the beauty of a process that has evolved from misanthropic beasts pasting archetypes and hepatitis in backrooms floated with rum and regret to a new universe of color and light injected under our skin like the mobile, organic canvases we have become.

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Kris Kuksi - mae'n talu i ateb negeseuon e-bost

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triumphcaprisingIt’s difficult enough to articulate the intricacies of being human in one’s own mind. Some day I’m going to die. I don't really like that idea, but I can’t do anything about it. Between now and then, I better think of something interesting to do.

An attempt to communicate this jumble to someone else is nigh impossible. It’s called “the problem of perspective”. I’ll never be able to see the world from your brain, and you’ll never comprehend the reality in which I exist.

and so the problems of humanity spring forth, with all our drastic attempts to convince one another that we’re the ones who are right.

But alas my friend. What a feeling it is to behold the Neo-Baroque stylings of Kris Kuksi – to gaze into a reflection of our society, and to realize somebody gets it, that somebody else out there understands, and that death most likely will end up leading to an infinite series of funky adventures,

or not.

Maybe he just figured out a way to make a whole lotta cash. Seeing as how a magazine I read said the top price for his work is around $125,000, and Robin Williams bought one of 'em.

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Eleanor Bennett - Manchester and Lacerations

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ebartebart2Eleanor Leonne Bennett is a 16 year old internationally award winning photographer and artist who has won first places with National Geographic, The World Photography Organisation, Nature's Best Photography, Papworth Trust, Mencap, The Woodland trust and Postal Heritage. Her photography has been published in the Telegraph, The Guardian, BBC News Website and on the cover of books and magazines in the United states and Canada. Her art is globally exhibited, having shown work in London, Paris, Indonesia, Los Angeles, Florida, Washington, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, Canada, Spain, Germany, Japan, Australia and The Environmental Photographer of the year Exhibition (2011), amongst many other locations. She was also the only person from the UK to have her work displayed in the National Geographic and Airbus run, See The Bigger Picture global exhibition tour with the United Nations International Year Of Biodiversity 2010. To what an intelligent person might ask her about art, Eleanor responded: "Why I chose photography over other art mediums. To that I would reply that photography is the quickest way to capture and express myself with ease." Very good. Enjoy her gallery of natural/personal/Manchester works here

Visit Eleanor's site here.

The Photography of Agostino Scafidi

The Photography of Agostino Scafidi

There are moments in the waking day that present a particular challenge. Did I dream this? Did this already happen, or is it happening right now? Why is there a spoon on that plate? Who is that man over there? The sounds of sirens and the feel of a soft cloth. The result of a life inundated with information. Some important pieces go unnoticed. They sit and wait in abandoned tunnels, waiting for us to find them, and put them back in the right spot. The puzzle of who we are, or who we might become.

So it is to enjoy the photography of Agostino Scafidi, like scanning ear-marked bits of our memories that we can only loosely connect to anything we actually recall. Parts of us that we haven't met yet, or that we've always been.

Bill Daniel - an interview

Bill Daniel - an interview

Bill Daniel is a photographer, filmmaker, installation artist, and zine publisher. His film on the history of hobo graffiti, Who is Bozo Texino? has screened in over 350 venues world wide, most recently at the MoMA. He was awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship in 2008, and was gracious enough to take time out and answer our five questions:

555c: Please describe your perfect day in the post-apocalypse.

Bill Daniel: That is the best question ever, and one I think about a lot. First, to define post-apocalypse for the sake of the first part of my answer; we're in it right now.

Henry Rollins - an Interview

Henry Rollins - an Interview

Mr. Rollins was kind enough to donate a little time to the 555, once again demonstrating that above his politics or whatever else, he is a solid human being. As you can probably already read, he does not believe in life after death, and does not dedicate much of his brain space to the origin of our species. Short and sweet, it is what it is, nothing more, nothing less.

Ennead (1-3) - Saul Isler

Ennead (1-3) - Saul Isler

Saul Isler is, or has been a newspaper columnist and radio show host. He has written for the San Francisco Chronicle, Cleveland Plain Dealer, Fine Woodworking Magazine and has been a restaurant reviewer/columnist for the Marinscope Newspapers, North Bay Bohemian and The Onion. He also writes an wicked Chiku. Following are stories 1-3 (Me and The Babe, The Three Cabinets of Hiroshi, and The China Incident) of his nine short story collection entitled Ennead. We will be publishing the remaining 6 at a later date, and also have plans to publish, in increments, at least one of his novels.

The Sound Boy Interviews: Sebby Frescoe - Andre Ross

The Sound Boy Interviews: Sebby Frescoe - Andre Ross

At the end of 2010, NPR’s Ann Powers wrapped up the year with a story aptly titled “The Year in Music: Dubstep’s Identity Crisis”. Written from an etic perspective, the story examined the stylistic and, to a certain extent, sub-cultural contention that exists between two distinct renditions of the genre. On one hand, we have the damp, atmospheric sound deserving of a namesake that brings to mind Jamaican masters like King Tubby and Lee “Scratch” Perry. On the other hand, we have the tactless, frat boy arousing gibberish that injects images of sadistic liaisons with power tools inside a crippled baggage claim on the dark side of LAX.

Expressionism in Music - Robin McNeil

Expressionism in Music - Robin McNeil

For those of you readers who may not have in mind a clear idea of the music that Schoenberg, Webern, and Berg wrote, it is called 12 tone or serial music, and I will quote briefly from one of my previous articles:

"12 tone music is usually referred to as serial music because it uses a series of the 12 notes of the chromatic scale. Those 12 notes do not have to appear in consecutive order, and it is also incorrect to refer to it as a ‘scale’ because a scale has a leading tone that gives the scale a sense of finality and rest.

Note from the Ego (2)

Note from the Ego (2)

I posted an ad on Craigslist yesterday, in New Orleans, providing an opportunity for an interested wealthy person to write a column that would give insight into his or her perspective. I got this response:

I would be willing to write for your publication, provided that there was some sort of compensation for my time… This is a capitalist society, not a socialist regime where everything is handed to you for free.”

I tried.

Teeth - Meriwether O'Connor

Teeth - Meriwether O'Connor

Meriwether O'Connor was our inaugural haiku victor, weighing in with a piece about resentment and goats. Following is first in her series of social commentary, all, we are told, with titular relation to body parts. 

Teeth

When I was growing up, my mom had a tooth she'd petted and prayed and paid for over the years put in a velvet backed printer's tray. Why, we asked. Because that tooth is worth several hundred dollars, she said. These were 1970's dollars so that was quite a bit more back then.

I remember telling it to many people, being actually proud of my mom's fancy tooth we had sewn to velvet on the wall of our back room. We didn't call it a den. My mom had built the roof and my dad, the walls. We didn't know it was supposed to have another name other than the one that stated exactly where it was. The back room.

Limited Edition T-Shirts - $555,555 each

Limited Edition T-Shirts - $555,555 each

Our first offering along the lines of branded merchandise - handmade long-sleeve t-shirts created with high quality materials. Because we don't have buku buckets of cash, we're starting out slow -  we've only made 9 of these shirts (and now only 5 remain), emblazoned with a slightly stylized version of our logo on the front , and a subtle display of our domain name on the back (up by the neck).

  

5.55 to the 555

5.55 to the 555

Donate to Wikipedia, not us. As a kid, I was haunted by stories of the holocaust and slavery, along with every other tale of needless suffering I was told. I would dream of building a time machine and traveling back to antebellum days, liberating humanity like some super-hero. I was filled with compassion for the plight of people in pain, and I retained that feeling into my adulthood.

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nestled against the rockies

where the snow falls hardest in spring.