This one is far more clever than these sorts of things tend to be.
Trailer for Ernest & Celestine. I haven’t seen it yet but it is my favorite film.
Benedict Cumberbatch reads R. Kelly’s “Sex Genius”
Window dressing is, at first glance, so gorgeously useless that it resists all comparison with other derided professions.
— Simon Doonan
Francis and the Lights - Like a Dream
Above all, remember that the present moment is a prism held up to the light; it scatters the singular white beam of the past into the infinitely spectral future. It is the only thing that is solid, tangible.
If you’re famous, I don’t—for the life of me—I don’t understand why any famous person would ever be on Twitter. Why on God’s green earth would you be on Twitter? Because first of all, the worst thing you can do is make yourself more available, right? Because you’re going to be available to everybody. But also Twitter. So one drunken night, you come home and you’ve had two too many drinks and you’re watching TV and somebody pisses you off, and you go “Ehhhhh” and fight back.
YOU GUYS! I figured out the best kind of joke! I’ve been workshopping this bit for the past few months and when dropped into casual conversation it has never not received an overwhelmingly positive reaction. I do not think I am overstating things when I call this ever-adaptable joke structure the very best kind of joke there could ever possibly be. Since I am nothing if not generous I now give this bold new style of joke to you, the world. Have at it! Enjoy being hilarious!
I’ve been writing iambic pentameter couplets like crazy over the last week or so for a certain theatrical production about a certain stag with silver antlers. I can’t get the meter out of my head. I started a new blog. I know that this tweet features trochees. Let it go.
Thirteen years ago, John Dunivant built a cabin inside a warehouse in Detroit, “planting” thousands of trees around it, and called it a Halloween party. The following Autumn he created Theatre Bizarre, a carnival staged illegally on some available grounds. Ten years later the mayor figured out what was happening (photographed above) and shut everything down.
This turn of events and others inspired The Expatriate Parade, a series of dozens of paintings and bronze sculptures depiction a curious costumed procession, rife with cultish symbols and shrouded imagery.
Theatre Bizarre reopened, legally and fittingly, in the Detroit Masonic Temple. From what I can see and heard from the artist in a talk at The Lodge Gallery on the LES this afternoon1, this sort of production is just exactly the sort of thing I love.
Its thirteenth year opens in a couple weeks. I am considering a trip.