Well, we knew this was going to happen. We were warned often enough but did we listen? Did we heed the warning given out in episodes of The Outer Limits, Twilight Zone or Black Mirror, innumerable B-movies and books from H. G. Wells to Stephen King? No, we thought we knew better. We were having way too much fun to even think about what we may be mortgaging for getting all those likes on Facebook and all those followers on Instagram and Twitter. We were only in it for the LOLz.

Then one day, our life’s all used up and we’re part of the machine. It’s no fun anymore but still we can’t help checking our feed, tweeting our food and liking every fucking picture of a grumpy-looking cat. WE are the pod people sci-fi warned us about! Like OMG!

Artist Kristian Jones produces neat illustrations of children and families whose lives have been taken over by the technology they use. His figures look like the characters once found in children’s stories who are now transported to a strange, surreal science-fiction land where technology snoops and insidiously steals away their very life force.

Jones is a self-taught artist based in Birmingham, England. His work which has been featured in galleries, magazines, posters and a clothing range “depicts our relationship with the modern world”:

...in a surreal and twisted form to highlight the problems with modern day living, preying on the innocence of childhood imagination, surreal worlds and fictional creatures.

Jones’ illustrations are funny and chilling. We recognize his point but know the same was once said about television and radio, or cinema and leisure time—where the Devil was always making work for idle hands. Technology is neither good nor bad—it’s all about us and how we use it. Jones is wise to this too and has in one picture Old Nick leading a group of idle carefree kids on a merry dance to Hell, while in another a boy peers into his tablet just like Narcissus who was smitten with his own reflection.

He is also part of the Brothers of the Stripe collective of illustrators and graphic designers. More of Kristian Jones’ work can be seen and purchased here.
 

 

 
More of Kristian Jones’ work, after the jump…

Vintage matchbook cover from the Jewel Box Lounge in Kansas City, Missouri.
 
A few of my DM colleagues as well as myself have posted about vintage matchbooks previously—think of them as folk art—so I was pretty delighted when I came across a large array of vintage drag and gay club matchbooks—some dating back to the 1950s.

Like some of you, I’ve got a soft spot in my heart for matchbooks and have a large collection of them myself that I’ve collected over the years from places that no longer exist like the one of the greatest rock clubs in Boston, The Channel and other clubs and bars that closed their doors long ago. When it comes to the drag club matchbook covers I can’t lie—they are fantastic and as colorful as the female impersonators who graced the stages at venues like the Jewel Box Lounge in Kansas City (one of which is pictured at the top of this post), or the artistic interpretation of the leather boys that hung out at the Ambush in San Francisco back in the day.

Occasionally these kinds of matchbooks do pop up on auction sites such as eBay and depending on their condition can sell for as much as $50. I’m especially fond of the matchbook personalized by drag performer/piano player “extraordinaire” Sir Lawrence Lawson who notes that every time you light your “reefer” with one of his gay matches you’ll read his poetic message reminding you that he’s “thinking of you.” Awww.
 

A matchbook from the San Francisco gay club Ambush.
 

The Torch Club, Sacramento, California. The club first opened its doors in 1934.
 
Many more after the jump…

 
Everybody needs a hobby, right? Meet “sweater dude,” Sam Barsky whose hobby is to knit sweaters of places and then have photos taken of himself wearing those sweaters at these places.

Sam was making the Internet rounds a few days ago but I didn’t really look at the photos when they first popped up in my feed. I finally clicked on it—because I couldn’t help myself—and was shocked at just how many sweaters he’s made! The photos are endless. I admire the man’s commitment to his craft. I particularly dig his sleeveless sweater looks.

I wonder how many sweaters he owns in total and just how long it takes to make one? If you want to see more of Sam’s unusual hobby you can follow him on Facebook. 

 

 
More after the jump…

 
Once you’ve seen every frame ever shot by Kenneth Anger or Alejandro Jodorowsky, where do you go for more of that same sort of thrillingly strange alchemical/occult ritual cinematic fix? If you’ve asked yourself that question—and who hasn’t—I’ve got a hot tip for you: Italian avant gardist Carmelo Bene’s utterly berserk 1972 “adaptation” (more like a detonation) of Oscar Wilde’s 1891 tragedy Salomé.

Bene, who died in 2002 at the age of 64, was a towering, if controversial figure of Italian intellectual life in the later half of the 20th century. He first gained notoriety as an actor in a 1959 staging of Albert Camus’ play Caligula in Rome, and as a hellraiser who spent over 300 nights in prison one year. He was mainly known for his work in live theatre and opera. His admirers included Gilles Deleuze, Salvador Dali, Pier Paolo Pasolini, Pierre Klossowski, Michel Foucault, Jacques Lacan and others. Bene is perhaps best known to audiences outside of Italy for his role in Pasolini’s film Oedipus Rex. He only made movies for six years—from 1968 to 1973—and considered his Salomé to be his best. Certainly it’s one of the oddest films ever made…
 

 
When Bene’s movies were screened at the Harvard Film Society a few years back the program declared that “his films resist synopsis” and boy oh boy is that an understatement. It is difficult to describe in words just how truly batshit crazy Salomé really is, but here is how IMDB gamely tried:

A psychedelic re-telling of the biblical story. Salomé is the daughter of the second wife of King Herod. The King is infatuated with her and after she fails to seduce the prophet John (The Baptist) she dances for the King in order to ask for his execution. The story is told in a bizarre way of fast cuts, repetitive dialogue and extreme satire.

Although this is technically not at all inaccurate, it’s so dry as to be practically meaningless in telling you much of anything useful about Bene’s freakstorm of a film which features imagery like a berserk Christ with vampire fangs at the Last Supper, a naked, bald Verushka clad only in colorful jewels (a look pinched for a costume in Paul Verhoeven’s Showgirls, believe it or not) and a man speaking as he lustily eats grapes from a woman’s ass (did I mention that Salomé is NOT safe for work? I probably should.) Salomé was played the gorgeous black American model Donyale Luna who had prior appeared in an Andy Warhol film, in William Klein’s fashion satire Who are you, Polly Maggoo?, as the girlfriend of God (played by Groucho Marx) in Otto Preminger’s Skidoo and as Oenothea in Fellini’s Satyricon. Talk about a resume!
 

A Christ-like figure gamely tries (and ultimately fails) to crucify himself.
 
Aside from the elaborate costumes, grotesque/gorgeous faces, and various and plentiful visual elements that would not in any way be out of place in an Anger or Jodorowsky opus, Bene’s Salomé also calls to mind the Living Theatre, which was clearly an influence here (Julian Beck acted along with Bene in Oedipus Rex in 1967), Jack Smith’s Flaming Creatures and unavoidably Fellini’s Satyricon. Bene’s Salomé has the look and feel of a roughly hewn, bargain basement Fellini film costumed by Leigh Bowery, and his own performance in it is so weird that it appears that he’s out of his fucking mind the whole time, seemingly improvising his dialogue like a horny, drooling Klaus Kinski after he’d dropped some particularly bad acid and laughing all the while like a grimacing, lunatic Woody Woodpecker.

More after the jump…

 
This weekend brings the first “would have been” birthday for David Bowie, who would have turned 70 this coming Sunday, January 8. Of course, it’s been almost a full year since Bowie passed away of cancer two days after turning 69.

Bowie’s first and only attempt at an extended run as a stage actor occurred in 1980, when he took on the role of John Merrick in Bernard Pomerance’s play The Elephant Man, which had debuted at the Hampstead Theatre in London in 1977. As with many of the projects Bowie took on, it was a decided challenge and proved to be a striking success. Bowie had just spent a few years hanging out with Iggy Pop and Brian Eno in Berlin producing some of his most interesting albums—the timing of the request to replace the existing actor Philip Anglim, made by Jack Hofsiss, the director of the Broadway production, which had already done very well and which Bowie had already seen, was surely critical, as Bowie was likely seeking a change at the time. There was also a certain resonance in playing a type of Victorian monster since his most recent album bore the name Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps). 

Bowie had such a striking physical presence, so ideal for the role of Thomas Jerome Newton in The Man Who Fell to Earth as well as for the physically deformed John Merrick in Pomerance’s play, which makes the interesting choice of eschewing makeup for the actor. The David Lynch movie that came out around the same time has no connection to Pomerance’s play, with its own, separate development. Oddly, both movie and film insist on referring to the historical Joseph Merrick as “John Merrick.”

As Bowie tells it, the producers of the play had Bowie try the role away from the intense media scrutiny of New York, so he did the play for six days (July 29-August 3, 1980) at the Denver Center of Performing Arts, where he could “die a quiet death” if it emerged that he wasn’t up to the challenge. After three weeks in Chicago at the Blackstone Theater, Bowie’s debut as a Broadway actor came on September 23, 1980, at the Booth Theatre for a run of a little longer than three months.
 
More after the jump….....

 
Netsuke is type of Japanese miniature sculpture or carving popular around the Edo period, 1615–1868. The word “netsuke” is formed out of the Japanese characters “ne’ and “tsuke” which apparently mean to “root” and “to attach.” Netsuke were originally worn on garments as a means to carry small personal effects—medicine, tobacco, what have you. Over time netsuke changed in use to a decorative and ornamental function.

Netsuke were primarily carved from ivory or bone though wood and whale tooth were also fashionable. The sculptures generally depicted famous people, animals (cute little bunny rabbits were very popular), plants, deities, mythical beasts and sex. These porny carvings were known as shunga netsuke and featured all forms of coitus.

The men in these carvings generally sported humungous dicks and the women always looked rather pleased. But these miniatures were not just novelties—they were considered good luck charms. In Japan a happy sex life had long been associated as a means to safeguard against bad luck. A house with a shunga netsuke over its lintel would be protected from fire. A soldier carrying one would be protected in battle. To own one meant fertility and success. These beautiful and comic little miniatures were considered life-affirming and radiated tolerance and patience. Nowadays this aspect of shunga netsuke is less important as these carvings can sell for several hundred dollars to a thousand plus at auction.
 

 

 
More racy miniatures, after the jump…

The cover of the 1960 book ‘Transvestism Today: The Phenomenon of Men Who Dress Like Women.’
 
According to a note on the back cover of the 1960 book Transvestism Today: The Phenomenon of Men Who Dress Like Women, viewing the book was only for the eyes of those affiliated with the medical community, psychoanalysts or students currently pursuing degrees in “psychology or social studies.” Written by the rather prolific Dr. Edward Podolsky and noted “hack” Carlson Wade, the duo authored many books together on sexuality and psychology. Including The Modern Sex Manual in 1942 which divulged some rather stunning revelations such as the “abnormal” act of masturbation can “dull” the feeling of intercourse:

Masturbation, if it has been indulged in excessively before marriage maybe be a cause of lack of orgasm during coitus. In women, masturbation brings into play abnormal channels of nerve stimulation, and as these are not stimulated during the normal act, the woman fails to achieve and orgasm. In most cases if masturbation is dropped completely and normal sexual activity substituted for it, the normal channels of nerve stimulation will in time bring about a normal enjoyment of the act.

It seems all that is missing from the good doctor’s assessment is that you might also go blind while pleasuring yourself. Podolsky and Wade’s Transvestism Today book is chock full of photographs of famous drag queens such as the alluring Parisian “Coccinelle” (born Jacques Charles Dufresnoy). Coccinelle was notable for many reasons including being the roommate of Salvador Dali muse Amanda Lear and the first French-born man to undergo sexual reassignment surgery which was performed in Casablanca in 1958.

When it comes to Wade’s contributions to the literary world, in addition to to his many collaborations with Dr. Podolsky (including six manuals from 1963 referred to as their “Epic Sexual Behavior Series”) he is also responsible for a series of sleazy pulp paperbacks such as a book on Coccinelle published in 1963 titled She-Male: The Sex-Reversal True Life Story of COCCINELLE. There was also a claim made by Bob Blackburn, the executor of Ed Wood’s estate (on behalf of his second wife Kathy O’Hara) that Wood was actually Carlson Wade and had written the 1958 book by Wade Conquering Goddess. And just because I love to throw our DM readers a good old-fashioned curveball, Wade also penned loads of trash under the name of “Ken Worthy” among other pseudonyms. But as I often do, I digress. Why don’t we take a look at the table of contents from Worthy/Wade/not-Wood 1967 book The Queer Path, shall we?:
 

The Table of Contents from Wade Carlson’s book ‘The Queer Path,’ 1967.
 
Moving on, here’s more anti-gay rantings from Worthy/Wade as published in 1965’s The New Homosexual Revolution lest you have any doubt of the author’s feelings about the gay community of the 1960s:

As the ranks of the homosexual is constantly swelling by greater and greater acceptance of this condition as an ‘illness,’ the ranks of the male prostitute is also swelled.

I’ve included images of both pages from both authors’ books as well as other salacious imagery that I’m sure will make you wonder if Dr. Podolsky perhaps got his degree out of a box of Cracker Jacks.
 

A page from ‘Transvestism Today: The Phenomenon of Men Who Dress Like Women.’
 

An illustration accompanying Carlson Wade’s article on the ‘strange erotic impulse’ of ‘Vampirism.’
 
More after the jump….

 
If you totally want to FREAK PEOPLE OUT—I mean, if that’s your goal—then might I suggest these earrings that look just like ears? Everyone will think you have extra ears. Quite a look!

The EARrings are made by artist and jeweler Nadja Buttendorf. What’s cool about these is they come in dozens of different skin tones so you can probably find a pair that will match your complexion perfectly. The EARrings are made of silicone.

 
And if having extra ears isn’t enough, Nadja also makes FINGERrings. At this point it’s probably pretty self explanatory what this might be, but it’s a ring that’s made to look like you have an extra finger. Again, it’s made of silicone.

 

 
I couldn’t find any prices on Nadja’s website. Perhaps these are prototypes and not for sale. I don’t know. You may want to contact her website to find out.

via Geekologie

 
René Brantonne’s cover illustrations for French pulp paperback publisher Fleuve Noir are a riot of imagination, lysergic color and unparalleled weirdness. Born in Creteil France, Brantonne started his career as a young artist for hire in the 1920s creating movie posters for French releases of American films. For a brief period, Brantonne lived in the United States continuing his work as a poster artist for Hollywood studios. He returned to France and from the mid-1950s until his death in 1979 produced hundreds of covers and illustrations for sci-fi and adventure novels and popular comic books.

Of the work I’ve seen and enjoyed by Brantonne, it’s his work for Fleuve Noir’s Anticipation series that I find the most exhilarating. The art is filled with energy, movement, wit, trippy perspectives, occult intimations and colors that will slap you silly. And some are the stuff of nightmares in which the future is a constant battle between man, machine and the unknown. The future depicted as a giant shoe crushing humanity like a bug or the grinding wheels of progress (Metal de Mort) making mincemeat of our flesh and bone. Brantonne’s vision was everything but idyllic. If the machines don’t get you the giant serpents will.

Welcome to the broken pyramid of your brain.
 

 

René Brantonne.
 

 
More visionary weirdness after the jump…

 
2016 may have been a shit year for politics and the mortality of cultural icons, but it was a banner year for horror films and a few of the best ones are ultra-low-budget affairs that may have slipped under some folks’ radar.

What follows are, in my opinion, the five best horror movies of 2016. Note that a couple of these titles were completed in 2015, but did not receive wide distribution until 2016. Also, full disclosure: I have not yet seen The Shallows, Hush, Train to Busan, or The Love Witch—all of which have gotten great reviews from respected sources.

Night of Something Strange
 

 
This over-the-top splatter flick about an STD that turns its victims into raging zombie-like maniacs was shot by up-and-coming film maker Jonathan Straiton in Virginia for a mere $40,000. It looks like a million bucks. With top-notch gross-out effects and awkwardly comic sexual situations, Night of Something Strange delivers the sort of comic-book violence and black humor that will resonate with fans of the Evil Dead series or Street Trash. It doesn’t take itself too seriously, and a sick sense of humor may be required for full enjoyment, but there’s still moments that are shocking and brutal. Straiton is a director to keep an eye on. The film is rentable on Amazon with a DVD/BD forthcoming.
 

 
Deep Dark
 

 
This quasi-art film may be the “weirdest” entry on the list, and I imagine some would find its premise a bit pretentious, but it’s one of the most refreshingly original horror films I’ve seen in at least a decade. Michael Medaglia’s Deep Dark follows a struggling, untalented artist working in the unappreciated medium of mobiles. The artist discovers a hole in the wall of his rented room which communicates with him, at first through a series of notes and then, as the hole gains strength, verbally, and eventually—when things start to get really weird—sexually. The hole in the wall provides the artist with the tools to achieve his dreams of success in the art world, getting him into a gallery and eventually into the gallery owner’s pants, which causes a (sometimes graphically) messy love triangle between the artist, patron, and muse. Fans of Lynch and Cronenberg take note of Deep Dark. Like Night of Something Strange, this is another highly effective film shot on a ridiculously low budget: reportedly $20,000.
 
More after the jump…