Monthly Archives: June 2008

Matter?


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The Big Penis Book is a 2008 book by Taschen on big penises and the men they belong to. The book, like its predecessor The Big Book of Breasts, was edited by Dian Hanson.

From a nobrow perspective it’s interesting that one of the earliest researchers on the subject was Caribbean author and theorist Frantz Fanon who covers this subject in some detail in Black Skin, White Masks (1952) tended towards the view that the supposed positive correlation between penis size and African ancestry is erroneous.

See penis size.

There is a very good Afro-Caribbean “mix tape”

There is a very good Afro-Caribbeanmix tape[1] (by DJ Geko Jones [MySpace] and a track listing here) over at Wayne and Wax. Other music blogs I am currently subscribed to include the Simon Reynolds, Swen’s blog[2], WFMU, Mixtuur, The Wire‘s The Mire[3] and Phinn. Woebot is still missed.

Needless to say, I cannot agree with Sebastian Horsley (Dandy in the Underworld ) when he angrily says:

I’ve had enough of this shit[4]. The internet is for those who lack the flair for conversation. A blog is what you write for after being rejected by all the reputable publishers. It is Loser Central. The last refuge of the refuse.

Where else but on blogs can I read, watch and listen at the same time. The only off-line media I still follow are Focus Knack (a Belgian general interest arts and culture mag), an occasional newspaper and occasional snippets of televised and radio-broadcast news.

Can you live without off-line media?

P.S. From that mixtape:

Eres para mi Julieta Venegas

Eres para mi Julieta Venegas

World cinema classics #52, 53 and 54

[Youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oawa85d_bJY]

Red Road trailer

I watched the 2006 British film Red Road yesterday evening. The film felt like reading a nouveau roman: no interior nor exterior monologue whatsoever (by that I mean an almost wholly depersonalized narration), the story is revealed through images and short pieces of dialog and benefits from having no prior information of the plot. The film is very reminiscent of that other little gem, Intimacy , but also of Haneke’s Caché because of its intense claustrophobia and manic voyeurism.

As far as my interest in prurience goes, Red Road had everything I had found lacking in Lust, Caution.

Michael Dwyer notes:

“There are shades of Michael Haneke‘s best work about this often unbearably gripping psychological thriller. It is as frank in its sexual candour as in its scenes of unflinching violence, and it offers no soft dramatic compromises.”

Red Road is World Cinema Classic #52, Caché #53 and Intimacy #54.

Introducing French Book Covers

French blog Au carrefour étrange has ceased its activities for the time being and started a new blog called French book covers [1] which is illustrated with a chic cover photo [2] by the Italian designer and photographer Carlo Mollino. Its author, who goes by the pseudo of Losfeld, has a very extensive collection of books, running the gamut from surrealist theory to sleazy paperbacks, what I like to call nobrow.

A recent post[3] at this new blog featured cover art by French publishing house La Brigandine, for which Jahsonic regular Jean-Pierre Bouyxou has written novels under the pseudonym Georges Le Gloupier before that name was appropriated by the entarteur Noël Godin, a highschool buddy of Bouyxou. One particular of those novels is called Les Accidents de l’amer (Eng: Accidents of the Sea, or accidents of Bitterness, depending on where you place the apostrophe or blank space) and has one of the sexiest covers[4] I’ve seen in some time, due to the particular areola shape of the woman depicted.

I cannot pinpoint (or haven’t tried) the date of these publications, but I would gather mid to late 1970s.

Three redeeming elements in Sex and the City: the Movie

Love letters from great men

I seem to have developed a strange predilection for women’s fiction over the last few years, and have become a regular viewer – that is, once or twice a month – of the Belgian women’s channel VijfTV since they started airing De Co-assistent . Part of my attraction to women’s fiction is due to the fact that I like to cry (remember, tearjerkers are one of the body genres). Last Friday that station broadcast Linda Hamilton and Jacqueline Bisset in Sex & Mrs. X and I fell asleep afterwards during Cruel Intentions, an interesting update to Les Liaisons dangereuses.

The thing that started my proclivity to chick flicks and women’s fiction was my viewing last summer with my girls of the series Sex and the City during our vacation at Le Crotoy. But even before that, there was my liking of Bridget Jones’s Diaries when it came out and more recently the riveting zipless fuck read by Erica Jong during the summer of 2006.

So it came to pass that I saw Sex and the City: The Movie over the weekend. Since I only do appreciative criticism on these pages I want to focus on three redeeming elements of this film, of which I can say that it lasts 142 minutes, which are 120 minutes too many.

  • Redeeming element number one:

Love Letters of Great Men. A fictional book, which will soon enough become a real one. Quotes from Beethoven‘s letter to his Immortal Beloved: “Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved.” The letter ends in the unforgettable lines

ever thine

ever mine

ever ours

  • Redeeming element number two:

The love story between Miranda and Steve. Miranda is the only woman in Sex … whose acting moves me. I’ve always liked Steven.

  • Redeeming element number three:

Louise, the asistent to Carrie Bradshaw is quite endearing. She is played by Jennifer Hudson.

Finally, trying to stay clear of negative criticism, does not mean I cannot use somebody else’s words to lambast this film: Manohla Dargis of The New York Times found Sex and the City: The Movie “a vulgar, shrill, deeply shallow — and, at 2 hours and 22 turgid minutes, overlong — addendum to a show.”

Yves Saint Laurent (1936 – 2008)

Yves Saint Laurent, 1962

Yves Saint Laurent, 1962

Yves Saint Laurent (August 1 1936June 1 2008) was a French fashion designer who was considered ‘one of the greatest figures in French fashion in the 20th century. He was the first living fashion designer to be honored by the Metropolitan Museum of Art circa 1983.

YSL’s noted creations include the “trapeze dress” from 1958 onwards, with a particularly noted incarnation as the “Mondrian dress[1] in 1965 which adapted Mondrian’s Broadway Boogie-Woogie painting; his “Le Smoking“, immortalized in a photograph by Helmut Newton[2] which anticipated the androgyny of the 1970s and his perfume “Opium” with an appropriately controversial ad campaign [3] photographed by Steven Meisel.

Laurent was the main couturier for Catherine Deneuve and dressed her in The Hunger and Belle de jour[4], and also did the costumes for Gérard Depardieu in Trop belle pour toi and dressed Claudia Cardinale in The Pink Panther.

Mad love

On double coding, guilty pleasures and Roland Kaiser‘s “Santa Maria.”YouTube

Guilty pleasures is about liking things you shouldn’t be liking,  Roland Kaiser‘s “Santa Maria.”YouTube for example.

You shouldn’t like “Santa Maria” because it is in “poor taste”.

Another example of guilty pleasure would be a man who watches television shows marketed towards women such as Sex and the City. This is considered a guilty pleasure because it violates most western ideas what society views as masculine. For this reason the man in question may watch this show in secret because other members of the society may react negatively to a man watching a feminine television show.

The postmodern age is gentle towards guilty pleasures.

Double coding

Yet, I don’t agree with Umberto Eco when he says that in a postmodern world you can no longer say: “I love you madly”.

It’s is too Barbara Cartland-ish, say Eco. I don’t agree. Long live mad love. Although I don’t agree, Eco formulated his point beautifully, in a way that captures the voice of compatriot Alberto Moravia. Here is the quote:

“I think of the postmodern attitude as that of a man who loves a very cultivated woman and knows that he cannot say to her “I love you madly”, because he knows that she knows (and that she knows he knows) that these words have already been written by Barbara Cartland. Still there is a solution. He can say “As Barbara Cartland would put it, I love you madly”. At this point, having avoided false innocence, having said clearly it is no longer possible to talk innocently, he will nevertheless say what he wanted to say to the woman: that he loves her in an age of lost innocence.” —Umberto Eco

Marquis de Sade @268

Today is Marquis de Sade‘s 268th birthday. Was he our first postmodernist? The man who showed us that words are not necessarily representations of reality. That one can construct limits of text only. The first modernist too: by transgressing all rules, showed us that there are rules. Above all the Marquis has proven a tough act to follow. One can divide modernity in pre- and post-Sadean. Anyone wishing to transgress (in words, not in deeds) has only one reference, the Marquis himself. The only possible answer to his antics are incorporating his sensibility without following his monomania.

David Locher writes[1] in “Postmodernism as Neo-Dada”

“At the heart of postmodernism lies the assumption that most of the things that we take for granted are, in fact, simply illusions. Reality is not reflected within text, only text is reflected within text. There is no Truth beyond the experience of the text, and meaning is created every time the text is experienced. An author does not place meaning in the text, and his/her interpretation of the text is no more valid than any other (Baudrillard 1981; 1988; Connor 1989; Lyotard 1984). In other words, meaning is arbitrary, relative, and subjective. Language is, in its own way, reality. What we refer to as reality is not knowable, and we live in the illusion that we are in touch with it. The age in which concepts have a relation to reality is over (Baudrillard and Debrix 1995). Knowledge is only validated when it is referred to by second-level discourse (Lyotard 1984).”

Introducing Colette Calascione

From various Flickr members.

illumination - colette calascione by the domestic minxLeda new - colette calascione by the domestic minxcat mask - colette calascione by the domestic minxpsyche at her bath - colette calascione by the domestic minxcolette calascione by rana12_mx

persephone colette calascione by the domestic minxboudoir - colette calascione by the domestic minxwhatisRoundlikeaMoonandfullofLove - Colette Calascione by the domestic minxsleeper - colette calascione by the domestic minx

Colette Calascione (born in 1971) is an American artist. She received a B.F.A. from the San Francisco Art Institute, California. Her work has been shown at St. Mary’s College, Moraga, California and the San Francisco Art Institute, as well as in many galleries, most notably in the San Francisco area.

Sometimes her work reeks just a bit too much of the lowbrow art movement on which I am not always too keen (exceptions such as Mark Ryden notwithstanding), but the work above is steeped in art history, yet feels fresh.

This painting (title: Persephone, 2002) constitutes Icon of Erotic Art number 26.