There’s not too much information about this Cthulhu toy figurine by artist Julian Briones, but how much would you really require? According to the artist’s website, each statue is hand sculpted, hand cast and handpainted. Apparently there are only 20 of these “little ladies” available to purchase. The toy statue stands at 15cm and sells for $75.00.

The artist notes that it takes up to 45 days for delivery of your Our Lady.

 

 

 
via Nerdcore

Previously on Dangerous Minds:
Cthulhu Yoga: Goths embrace their dark side while staying fit
Dainty teacups filled with Cthulhu and other eldritch creatures
Finally! Cthulhu dildos

 
Though his greatest career success was in illustrating over 200 covers for Time magazine, the imposingly named Boris Artzybasheff’s (1899-1965) greatest artworks were, in this scribe’s opinion, his surreal, cartoonish, and utterly wild drawings of anthropomorphic machines, crafted as if to answer a question nobody asked, but should have—what if Basil Wolverton had been an industrial designer? In a unique self-contained dream logic, his tools of industry sprout limbs with which to operate themselves.

I was turned on to Artzybasheff several years ago when a friend gifted me a copy of the October 1954 issue of Mechanix Illustrated—I was amassing a trove of old pop-science digests from which I was harvesting graphics for concert fliers and posters. Despite the “story” on Artzybasheff being literally nothing more than a two-page spread that featured all of five illustrations, he was nevertheless the cover feature. The publication’s covers were typically far more prosaic, I’m guessing the rag’s honchos probably relished this rare opportunity for some fun.  The entire article was two short paragraphs:

The transformation of harsh, cold machines into alert-looking, hard-working gremlins with faces, hands and feet is the unique achievement of cartoonist Boris Artzybasheff. His “living” mechanical monsters have created a sensation in the field of technical advertising.

It is not difficult to analyze the success of the animated machines. They convert a highly-specialized subject into one that everyone can understand and enjoy. This helps to sell a product and a company name. What more could an advertiser want?

A monograph of Artzybasheff’s fantasy work which featured his writings, As I See, was published in 1954, and reprinted in 2008.
 

 

 

The album cover, via History’s Dumpster
 
Now that people are buying LPs again—please, for the love of God or GG Allin or whomever you hold sacred, do not call them “vinyls”—it’s time to talk about standards of quality. By all means, let’s talk about Amon Düül II’s Yeti, James Brown’s Hell, Black Sabbath’s Vol. 4, Jimi’s Axis and Alice Coltrane’s Journey in Satchidananda. Yes, of course, Public Enemy’s Fear of a Black Planet and Miles Davis’ Live-Evil and the Velvets’ White Light/White Heat. Monsters on the turntable, every one!

But if you want to demonstrate to yourself and others that you are a person of gravity who only listens to the hardest jams on wax, what you need to do is buy, play and display a copy of The Best of Marcel Marceao. Yes, it is misspelled, presumably to diminish the label’s liability in the eyes of the actual Marcel Marceau, though he was not known to be litigious. Released by MGM and Gone-If Records—gonef is Yiddish for “thief”—in 1970, this particular record album includes 38 minutes of silence and two minutes of canned applause. Why, it’s the goods! Just think how disquieting it will be for others when you put on “that silent record” again and a faraway look returns to your eye.
 

Record label detail, via History’s Dumpster
 
I first read about this album in Greil Marcus’ Lipstick Traces. There, it’s associated with Guy Debord’s 1952 film Hurlements en faveur de Sade, which provoked riots by avoiding the use of images. Marcus notes that The Best of Marcel Marceao was released by MGM president Mike Curb, who was later elected lieutenant governor of California “and, for a time, seriously discussed as a Republican candidate for the presidency”; however, he omits the author of the gag, record man Michael Viner, who produced the entertainment at the 1972 Republican National Convention and Nixon’s 1973 inaugural ball at the Kennedy Center. Without doubt, both evenings of real class compared to the orgies of refrigerant huffing expected to provide the fun at this year’s GOP festivities. (It is my sincere hope to see Larry the Cable Guy and Tila Tequila lose consciousness under a garbage bag while Donald Trump “fishes out” on the floor, convulsing and vomiting and choking and pissing and shitting until his heart stops and his spine extrudes from his groin.)

The sound of silence, after the jump…

 
Joyce McGrath is a proud Donald Trump supporter who lives in Lynchburg, Virginia.

Not for the first time, Joyce is having some problems with her “Trump for President” signs. Last time one was stolen, but now someone is painting over them with an “I’m Racist” stencil.

Joyce told the local station ABC 13 that:

“People are trying to destroy our freedom, but luckily I have extra Trump signs.”

That’s spelled freeDUMB, Joyce. FreeDUMB.

She added:

“They want to destroy my signs, I’ll continue to replace them, so everybody watch out.”

Someone is defacing Trump signs in Lynchburg by spray painting the words, "I'm Racist." Have you seen this before? pic.twitter.com/RG2G5YKzoc

— Marissa Parra ABC 13 (@MarParNews) May 25, 2016

 
Via The Daily Dot

 
Although I have always appreciated his music (“Ride a White Swan” was one of the very first 45s I ever bought), I have never been what you would call a major Marc Bolan/T.Rex fanatic. Don’t get me wrong, I am indeed a fan, but I’ve always put Marc Bolan in the same category as I do Chuck Berry, Little Richard or Eddie Cochran. Translation: a decent “greatest hits” is probably all I really need to own (Bolan also stole shamelessly from each of these artists, of course).

In actual fact, I do own quite a few T.Rex albums. Probably my favorite song by Marc Bolan is the comparatively little known “Jasper C. Debussy.” It’s not like I’m ignorant of his work, it’s just that a lot of it sounds pretty formulaic and “samey” to me. Bolan had “a thing” that he did quite well, but he just kept doing it and that’s the problem I have with his music.
 

 
Having offered the above disclaimer, I don’t think that I ever truly “got” Marc Bolan until I picked up a used Japanese import copy of the “deluxe” Born To Boogie DVD box set from a few years back in the bargain bin for a mere $7 bucks. A friend of mine had the film on VHS in the 80s and I saw it 25 years ago and quite enjoyed it, but the DVD version, with a monstrously powerful 5.1 surround mix done by the great producer Tony Visconti, totally blew me away. It must be the apex of Bolan’s artistry. Nothing short of stunning.

You know there’s always one guy on every block who has one of those huge fuck-off audio systems that the neighbors for a quarter mile radius can hear? I’m that guy. After watching Born To Boogie with the sound cranked up so loud it would have drowned out a airplane landing on my rooftop, I finally “got” Marc Bolan, and can see clearly why the flame of eternal fan love for him will never die. 
 

 
And now at long last, the Demon Music Group will be releasing Born to Boogie on Blu-ray, for the first time in HD on June 13th. There are tons of extras and both the earlier, late afternoon concert and the full evening show that was used in the film are included. 10/10 for content, audio/visual quality and overall “wow factor.” If you are wondering if you need to replace your old DVD, you probably do. There is no regional code on the disc, despite what it says on Amazon.

Born To Boogie was directed by Ringo Starr and produced by Apple Films. The concert segments were filmed at the Wembley Empire Pool in 1972 at the absolute height of T.Rextasy. Bolan’s guitar is just FAT sounding here and the 5.1 mix is outstanding. Listening to it cranked up is like having, well… a Tyrannosaurus Rex stomp all over your head… in a good way!
 

 
There’s also a stellar jam session sequence with Elton John and Ringo that was captured at the Apple Studios on Savile Row and some “surreal hijinks”—like the Mad Hatter’s tea party bit which was filmed on John Lennon’s estate—that bring to mind Magical Mystery Tour. Still, it’s the concert segments that dazzle the most with Bolan’s 500 megawatt charisma in full effect.

More after the jump…

 
The honeycomb always serves as a constant tribute to balance and proportion in the structures found in nature, and Canadian artist Aganetha Dyck has found an ingenious way to incorporate the honeycombs found in beehives in her work: She induces bees to build their hives around and on pre-existing artifacts which are broken or missing parts.

The artist has worked with beekeepers and scientists for decades, and those experiences have informed her recent waxy works of art, which use as a starting point Edwardian figurines as well as dilapidated helmets, shoes, and sports equipment, all enhanced by structures that were created by apiarian laborers.

Dyck covers specific areas of the piece to entice the bees before she puts them in the hive. Eventually the honeybees “mend” the damaged parts with their honeycomb layers. 

As Dyck told The Creators Project,
 

While working with honeybees I discovered their methods of construction and their ability to mend the hive’s cracks and crevices with honeycomb, wax and propolis. I thought of the vast number of damaged figurines in antique shops and second-hand stores. I knew honeybees were masters of mending and decided to give a selection of these now unwanted, damaged, figurines to the honeybees. I was surprised that once the honeybees had mended the objects, the figurines became collectibles again.

Dyck also said, “Throughout my life I’ve had an interest in figurines and collectibles. I wondered about dust and dusting of figurines and of the glass cabinets containing these untouchable treasures. These collectibles were beyond my reach as a child and adult alike.” 

This unusual method requires a great deal of patience and knowledge of the ways of bees: “My patience is due to the honeybees themselves. They have routines; they must not be disturbed any more than necessary and only for a few minutes at a time.”
 

 

 
More after the jump…....

 
Shortly after running this post we received the following message from Kliph Nesteroff:
 

A retraction was submitted this morning regarding the hologram. Kelly Carlin has not endorsed the hologram idea. I took a leap of logic. Kelly has been working closely to integrate her father into the museum, and the builders of the museum have been working closely with Hologram USA, however the hologram plans (of which Redd Foxx is one), does not involve Carlin. The comedy center recently put on a tribute to Carlin’s legacy at the Paley Center and announced the enormous donation of Carlin’s archives to the center. George Carlin is a key point for the Comedy Center, but not part of the Hologram USA project as I mistakenly stated.

 
Nesteroff also directed me to this now-updated post from Rolling Stone which has accurate information about the musuem’s plans.

Here is the post in its original form:

It’s no secret that we at Dangerous Minds have long been admirers of George Carlin. I know that Richard Metzger is a big fan, and as for me, let’s just say that watching Carlin at Carnegie on HBO (without my parents’ knowledge, of course) at the age of about 13 was a life-changing event.

On top of that, one of the coolest things DM did in 2015 was run an exclusive excerpt of Kliph Nesteroff’s fantastic book The Comedians, which is chock full of information about Carlin’s career. We love the guy.

The history of the use of so-called “holograms” in the news and entertainment business has seen mixed success, to put it mildly. On Election Night in 2008 CNN broadcast an interaction between Wolf Blitzer and a holographic image of correspondent Jessica Yellin, who was reporting from Chicago, in an inadvertent nod to Princess Leia in a similar scene in the first Star Wars movie. In 2008 a hologram of Tupac Shakur sang “Hail Mary” and “2 of Amerikaz Most Wanted” at Coachella.

In neither case was the projected image actually a hologram—it’s similar to the artistic license that allows the makers of a certain kind of self-balancing scooter to call it a “hoverboard.”

So ordinarily we’d want to make fun of news that an entity known the National Comedy Center, scheduled to open in Jamestown, New York, in 2017, announced that a “hologram” of George Carlin will “perform stand-up sets” at the museum. But the fact of it being Carlin admittedly has me interested. Recently Carlin’s family donated a massive trove of the comedian’s archives to the museum, which will make these “holographic” renditions of his comedy act possible.
 

 
Almost as newsworthy is the information that the aforementioned Kliph Nesteroff is the chief curator of the National Comedy Center. There is nobody else in the world better qualified for such a position, and we congratulate Nesteroff on the good news.

Nesteroff commented recently that the Carlin family was a major sponsor of the museum and told the Hollywood Reporter that the comedian would serve as the center’s main attraction:
 

The main gimmick to bring people to Jamestown—which you may imagine is not an easy thing to convince people to do—is the George Carlin hologram. So they’re building this fake comedy club in one corner and George will be onstage, performing like old times ... He’s the credibility here. People have tried to do comedy museums before and failed. When you hear “comedy museum” and you’re a comedian, your first thought isn’t, “Oh, that’s cool,” it’s “Oh, that sounds terrible.” But in the comedy community, there are very few who would say that weren’t influenced by George Carlin. It helps.

 
The comedian’s daughter, Kelly Carlin, has donated eight trunks full of script drafts, eight-track tapes, performance videos, and photographs. One fascinating artifact promises to be the report from Carlin’s arrest on charges of obscenity from a 1972 show in Milwaukee.

I first learned about Nesteroff in 2008 after reading a lengthy and engrossing account of Carlin’s early years (1956-1970) on a blog hosted by the WFMU radio station. Nesteroff demonstrated his talent for excavating fascinating information that sheds light on some obscure corners of the comedy world, and he hasn’t let up since. This new position at the library represents some kind of closing of the circle for the energetic researcher, who has conducted countless interviews with many nearly-forgotten comedians whose heyday was several decades ago. 
 
Much more after the jump…....

 
Henry Miller was always looking for something though he never seemed to find it. Throughout his life the author of cult favorites Tropic of Capricorn and The Tropic of Cancer signed-up for various philosophies and crackpot ideas but inevitably canceled his subscription. He was always willing to believe any kook who claimed to have a knowledge of god, the afterlife, the cosmos or some esoteric wisdom. Miller was willing to give anything a go. At least for a little while.

He tried Madame Blavatsky and her Theosophical Society. He half-believed Blavatsky’s “Secret Doctrine” of the seven planes of existence and the seven cycles through which everything moves—which she claimed came via a secret brotherhood of Mahatmas in Tibet—until Miller “discovered” Blavatsky had invented the whole thing and forged the correspondence with her spiritual guides Koot Hoomi and Mahatma Morya.

In his youth, Miller latched onto the teachings of the former Evangelist preacher Benjamin Fay Mills like “a drowning man.” Miller later explained the preacher’s teachings offered him was a brief respite from his “battle” with his own libidinous sexual desire.

In the 1950s, Miller was convinced “flying saucers” were about to invade Earth. He thought the US government was covering up their knowledge of UFOs and extraterrestrials. Miller corresponded with ufologists ‘fessin’ up his own experience of seeing flying saucers (two objects twinkling in the sky) and witnessing them “far out on the horizon, at dawn, and without aid of glasses.”

Miller was a “cosmic tourist.” He visited “...the Scientology of L. Ron Hubbard, the apocalyptic studies of the Essenes, Christian Science, Kahlil Gibran, White Witchcraft and the modern hinduism of Sri Ramakrishna.” He dabbled with astrology and Buddhism, and was suckered by the conman guru “Lobsang Rampa” who wrote a book titled The Third Eye describing his spiritual life and upbringing in Tibet—but Rampa turned out to be a plumber from Devon called Cyril Hoskin who had never once set foot outside England.

Yet Miller never felt cheated by these cranks. He was open-minded about everything and was never dispirited, disappointed or angered when he found out he’d been conned by yet another New Age charlatan. Miller’s view was simple:

Any theory, any idea, any speculation can augment the zest for life so long as one dies not make the mistake of thinking that he is getting somewhere.

More after the jump…

 
These animal head masks that move their mouths as you speak are described as “realistic” or “life-like” on a few websites. I wouldn’t say that they’re very realistic-looking at all, maybe veering more towards the WTF? side, in my opinion. I can’t quite place my finger as to why I find them exactly so unsettling. Maybe it’s because they look like freakin’ roadkill that’s come to life?! I’m imagining zombie roadkill robbing a bank or some bizzare-ass party where everyone is sporting one of these but otherwise naked. Very Island of Dr. Moreau, too (the one with Marlon Brando, natch).

The flexible strap inside the mask keeps it secure while the soft cushion rests against your chin, so the animal’s mouth moves when you talk. This lets you naturally create a very unnatural effect. The life-like faux fur provides the detail needed to complete the freaky facade.

You have a choice of three styles: pug dog, wolf, and fox. Each one sells for $59.99 over at Vat19. This is next level furrydom.

 
The video shows the masks in action and it’s kind of corny. I can easily think of far more sinister scenarios for these masks.

 
via Geekologie

The only person in the world who could rock a sweater vest with a print of a man with a top hat and monocle and still look as cool as fuck, Mr. Tony Iommi of Black Sabbath.
 
Now before anyone out there thinks for one second that I’m in any way slagging the heavy metal messiah of Black Sabbath, Tony Iommi, you’d be wrong. Only a fool would have anything but praise for a man who, after losing the tips of his middle and ring fingers on his right hand in an accident when he was seventeen, pressed on to become one of the most influential guitarists in the history. Couple that indisputable fact with the ass-kicking Iommi gave to The Big C—cancer—when it came calling, and you have Tony motherfucking Iommi—metal guitar god.
 

 
If you read Dangerous Minds on a regular basis, you probably already know that I’m a Black Sabbath super fan. Thanks to my folks, I played Sabbath’s second album, 1970’s Paranoid forwards and backwards (for those backmasked Satanic subliminal messages) until it would play no more. I look to that record as the reason for my delightful, nearly lifelong obsession with the band. As I’ve said in the past, any day that I get to write about Black Sabbath and get paid for it, is the best day ever. And today is another one of those great days!

Tony Iommi has always been about as metal as they come, and that’s especially true when you consider the look Iommi cultivated over the decades with Black Sabbath. You know, the leather biker jackets with fringe, the satin shirts, the gigantic cross necklaces and the ever present manly display of chest hair. And let’s not forget Iommi’s sweet patchwork jacket (which Iommi wore a lot during the Sabbath’s early days and which is currently on display at the Hard Rock Cafe in Berlin). That one garment could very well be responsible for the birth of the heavy metal fashion staple, the battle jacket.

As I often feel the need to scratch my nostalgic itches, I decided to flip through the Internet looking at photos from the band’s early days when I noticed that there seemed to be quite a few pictures of Iommi wearing of all things, sweaters. It didn’t take long for me to find quite a few images of Iommi rocking everything from a sweater vest to large-collared zip-up knitwear and even a turtleneck, which I found totally amusing given the fact that the look somewhat transforms Iommi into a mustachioed male model as featured in the pages of a vintage 70s Sears catalog. As you’re looking at the photos that follow, you’ll probably notice that Sabbath’s bassist, Geezer Butler was also a fan of quality 70s knitwear.

I’ve also included few images that postdate the fantastic 70s that I had to include because, well, sweaters.
 

 

 
More of Tony’s fab sweaters, turtlenecks and zip-up jumpers, after the jump…