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EDWARD SNOWDEN IS MARK ZUCKERBERG’S COUSIN… (or something like that?)
06.13.2013
10:23 am
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...  according to conspiracy theorist Ed Chiarini (aka Dallasgoldbug) that is. I hope you didn’t think… Oh well, you’re here now. What’s done can’t be undone and all that.

Yes, as soon as this NSA story hit, I knew that my man Ed Chiarini—already responsible for “exposing” Iran’s Ahmadinejad as Henry Winkler (as you can read here in my DM article from last year)—would have something… interesting to say on the matter. He has far from disappointed.

Not only, you see, are Snowden and Zuckerberg apparently related (yeah I know, pretty freakin’ ironic), but the former is also apparently “played by” the same actor responsible for Tyler Clementi, the young man the media rather insensitively dubbed the “Rutgers sex-cam suicide.”

I’ll let Chiarini explain exactly how, suffice to say that you’ve gotta love conspiracy theorists like him. The mainstream media announces that the world is effectively a digital police state and they say, “Oh no it isn’t!” The daft, contrary buggers…
 

Posted by Thomas McGrath
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06.13.2013
10:23 am
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This will make you smile: Happy Dogs traveling in cars
06.13.2013
09:45 am
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How delightful is this? Happy dogs, traveling in cars, with the wind in their ears.
 

 
Via Arbroath
 

Posted by Paul Gallagher
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06.13.2013
09:45 am
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Hot-to-Trot Vampires in Canada: The Formerly Long Lost ‘Sexcula’
06.12.2013
11:20 pm
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Sexcula Cover Art
 
If I threw the words “sexy vampire comedy” at you, what are the first images that come to mind? A Catskills Lothario, fanging luscious and lonely housewives all across the East Coast? We should be so lucky! (Yes, I would watch the living end of that.) Instead, those key words do not have the best pedigree. There’s belly dancing/actress Nai Bonet’s star vehicle to nowhere, Nocturna and the straight out of Germany, 1982’s Dracula Blows His Cool. The latter best known for giving the world the song, “Rock Me Dracula (Suck Me Suck Me)” and not a whole lot else. But there is one film in this highly iffy arena that has been building a slow simmer of a cult status since 1974..

The film in question, one that was thought to be lost for years until it was recently unearthed, cleaned up and released by Impulse Pictures earlier this year, is Sexcula. (That’s pronounced sex-kula.) Made in Canada, complete with Federal funding from an undoubtedly unknowing Canadian Film Development Corporation, Sexcula was only screened once and then disappeared. That one private screening gave birth to years’ worth of gossip and word-of-mouth. Few could have expected that this mega-obscure skin flick with fangs, complete with a cast that have dropped off the face of the Earth, would someday be easily available. Even fewer could even begin to know what to truly expect from this ridiculous but overall fun hybrid of a film.

You’re given the false sense of safety, at first, with the dark castle in the thrall of night, while the phrase, “Those Evil deeds of the Countess” appears. (And yes, “Evil” is capitalized like that.) The title credits begin to roll, with character credits including “Benchtest and Hooker,” which is the first sign that we’re not in Kansas anymore. After this, a young couple drive around the countryside until they arrive at a large house, which looks more like urban ruins than the former glamorous glory of the girl’s (Debbie Collins) familial castle. Her family’s unusual history is summed up with the phrase,“the stories about this place would curl your pubes.” Not to state the obvious, but pubic hair generally is curly, but this is really beside the point. I gave up all rights to complain about logic the moment I entered a universe called Sexcula.

The girl goes on a hunt for her grandmother, Dr. Fallatingstein’s (Jamie Orlando) diary. As the young lovers go on a picnic, where curiously the woman is full on starkers while her date keeps his polyester finery on., he begins to read the diary. Turns out, her grandmother delved into Frankenstein-esque activities, with her piece-de-resistance being the perfect man, aptly named Frank (John Alexander). He’s a smashing success except for one minor detail. Frank’s got the sex drive of a dead dog doped up on salt peter,  a source of tremendous frustration for his creator. The Dr. is left with only one solution—to call her niece, Countess Sexcula (Debbie Collins, again) for help. Turns out Sexcula is one busy lady, combining one glamorous and DNA-riddled lifestyle of vampirism and hooking, with a twist of nymphomania. In fact, take two guesses what our heroine is up to as her Aunt gives her a ring? That would be a firm yes, with the ultimate romantic gesture of getting it on flanked by the ultimate swanky notes of a Herb Alpert-esque tune. The sex scene ends with her smiling and flashing the peace sign at the lens, hinting at a time when women and men were more likely to get naked and friendly in front of the camera as an act of cultural rebellion and good times.

The Countess makes her way to Castle Fallatingstein immediately, leading to the introduction of the rest of the Dr’s motley lurid crew. There’s Benchtest (Marie McLeod), an emotionless love-bot, Orgie (Tim Lowery), the mongoloid hunchback with ants in his pants and even a Gorilla (Bud Coal, which is a fab name), who seems to get more action than poor Orgie.

The girls try numerous techniques on hapless Frank, including a romantic carriage ride, hypnotism, sex cell blood transplants or, my personal favorite, a dramatic striptease. The latter may sound harmless enough, but throw on some pink lights, a sweet turned savage gorilla and guns (!) into the mix, and than you have the way into my fetid little heart.

Unfortunately, things start to wane pretty quickly, with the latter half of the film inexplicably focusing on a mock wedding on a porno shoot that turns into one sterlingly retarded swing party. My best guess is that the filmmakers needed to pad things out with an unrelated loop or footage from an abandoned project, since it shares none of the actors and lacks the goony, gothic glow that permeates the rest of the film.

Sexcula is a fascinating, if not wholly successful curiosity. It’s not really a horror film, though it has some of the superficial trappings of one. It’s not really lough-out-loud funny either, though in its best moments it is earnestly ridiculous and cute. The cast obviously had some fun and not just in the body-love sort of way. Collins, touted as a Canadian Marilyn Chambers, actually gives off more of a sunny Melanie Griffith, circa the early 80’s vibe than anything else.

With films like Sexcula, the whole “whatever happened to” thought is bound to cross into your noggin, but perhaps it is for the best that the cast is mired in fringe film obscurity. While you and I are probably cool enough to be impressed that say, our lawyer or teacher was in a weird Canadian vampire-sex spoof film from the 70’s, society is still in devolve mode.

Past, present and future, Sexcula is one of the reasons why the information age can be a great tool. Films that have been thought to been lost for decades are starting to turn up, which is a beautiful thing for any film lover worth his/her salt. As for Sexcula itself, while it’s almost more of a saucy experiment than anything else, it is also lovably daffy in moments and bless Impulse Pictures for releasing it.

Posted by Heather Drain
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06.12.2013
11:20 pm
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Writers on Writing: Martin Amis, Malcolm Gladwell, Joan Didion, Jonathan Franzen and more
06.12.2013
05:24 pm
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Why I Write was George Orwell’s essay answering that perennial question asked of most authors and novelists.

Orwell was a 5-year-old when he first thought of becoming a writer. It was an idea he clung to throughout his childhood—writing stories in his head, rather on paper, imitating the styles of his favorite authors. Then, between the ages of seveteen and 25, Orwell attempted to abandon his vocation.

He joined the Imperial Indian Police. He affected a philistinism. Denounced literature, and literary magazines—in particular the Adelphi, which he considered ‘scurrilous,’ and used for target practice. Ironically, it was the Adelphi that later gave Orwell his first encouragement as a writer, publishing some of his early essays under his name Eric Blair.

It was only on his return to England that Orwell started writing in earnest. He apprenticed himself, writing every day, developing a style, and submitting articles to magazines.

Writing, he discovered, was something he had to do.

Most authors would say the same: writing is something they have to do.

It’s the having to do it that starts them off. But it’s the keeping to it that is the difficult part.

I once asked the playwright Peter McDougall, ‘How do you write?’ ‘You write about what you know,’ he replied. I told him I had been to half-a-dozen funerals before I was twelve. ‘There you go—that’s what you should write about.’

But I was scared, because it meant writing about how I felt, how I thought. It meant revealing something about myself that I didn’t necessarily want to share. And that’s a major hurdle for writers starting out—having the nerve to put down on paper their true thoughts and feelings.

The author Max Frisch once wrote, “a writer only betrays himself.” Which is true, for a writer must be honest enough to tell the truth no matter how painful. And that was something Orwell knew.

In this short selection of interviews conducted by Charlie Rose, authors Martin Amis, Zadie Smith, Malcolm Gladwell, Joan Didion, Jonathan Franzen and Fran Lebowitz give their answers to the question ‘How do you write?’ They also answer that other favorite, ‘Where do ideas come from?’ and explain how best to write successfully.
 

Posted by Paul Gallagher
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06.12.2013
05:24 pm
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Dangerous Finds from around the Web
06.12.2013
05:17 pm
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Jean-Michel Basquiat’s resumé sold for $50,000 - HUH Magazine

Are you ready for Basquiat The Musical? - ANIMAL

How to freeze water in about half a second: Consider this your first class in ice wizardy 101 - io9

Kraftwerk’s Ralf Hütter: ‘Now we can concentrate on album number nine’ - The Guardian

Prisoner charged with using genitals to toss salad - Arbroath 

Teacher screens Saw for 6th-grade class, gets suspended - Today

News anchor Bill Lunn was trying to say “I pledge allegiance to the flag” before talking about a gay pride festival when he forgot the very important “L” in the world “flag.” - BuzzFeed

Man does “karate dance” to Offspring tune - Boing Boing

No, Edward Snowden probably didn’t commit treason - Washington Post

“Okay, so this is a real WTF. My friend’s friend had this guy at a gas station tell her she lost a dollar (when she hadn’t), and he “returned” this to her” - reddit

Henry Rollins on anger, drugs and the Black Flag reunion - LA Weekly

Portishead’s Beth Gibbons to release new solo album on Domino - Pitchfork

Facebook launches new policy to allow mastectomy photos - ABC News

Brain’s ‘dark side’ as key to cocaine addiction - Science Daily

Man survives 2 days under sea in shipwreck air bubble - Reuters

An illustrated guide to 66 types of cheese - Wired

Henri Michaux’s 1964 educational film for Sandoz to demonstrate hallucinogenic effects of mescaline & hash - UbuWeb h/t WFMU 

Images from a pinhead-sized sample of a glacier corpse’s brain shows evidence of his final, deadly fight - New Scientist

Hipsters who dress like “Jackie” from Roseanne - Tumblr

Chinese farmer jailed for making a rubber alien - Telegraph

Below, little Isabel is devastated at impending loss of broken toilet:

Video via Arbroath

Posted by Tara McGinley
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06.12.2013
05:17 pm
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The Brief Marriage of John Cale and Betsey Johnson
06.12.2013
05:15 pm
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Weddng day, 1968

The Velvet Underground’s John Cale met fashion designer Betsey Johnson in May 1967, when she was designing costumes for the Edie Sedgwick movie Ciao! Manhattan. She had been using Edie as her fitting model for years and had even designed her “Edie dress,” a jersey knit creation with a criss-cross back. Johnson was dating Sterling Morrison at the time and working on her own clothing designs.

Cale wrote of Johnson in his memoir What’s Welsh for Zen? in 1999:

“Betsey took amphetamine every day—diet pills, black bombers. She was a little overweight and very sensitive about it, and she would sit up all night making clothes. Betsey was a strong individual character. When she started showing up at all the VU gigs because she could afford to, I really admired her…It seemed to me that Betsey knew everybody I knew, and she was living at the Chelsea Hotel. It was a match made in heaven.”

Johnson began making elegant dark stage clothes for the band and hanging out at New York clubs with Andy Warhol and Cale. In 2008, Johnson told Woman’s Wear Daily: “I always made John his black canvas suits with big hunks of ruffles and bows coming out, which were gorgeous. And Lou [Reed] wanted his crotch to be big, so I would always cut him a crotch.”

On her wedding day in 1968, Betsey was turned away from New York City’s City Hall for wearing pants as part of her self-designed red velvet pantsuit. She returned wearing the shortest miniskirt she could find. Cale wrote, “I made her cry on the day of her wedding because I forgot to buy her a corsage.”

During their short marriage the couple lived together in a beautiful loft on La Guardia Place but were seldom home at the same time. Cale did not take well to being married to such an ambitious working woman:

“Betsey worked hard all the time, like Andy. She would be in her showroom, and she often spent weeks in San Francisco or Los Angeles, where her factories were…I realised our career paths were so divergent that we actually lived in completely different worlds. Betsey seemed able to pass in and out of my world with ease, but I could not negotiate hers. I felt stymied by it. At that point I would get lonely and find somebody else. Betsey and I were both interested in our careers to the exclusion of personal relationships.”

Cale divorced Johnson in 1971 after relocating to Los Angeles to work as a solo artist and producer and upon meeting Cindy Wells, a.k.a. Miss Cindy, one of The GTO’s, the girl group formed by Frank Zappa.

In 2011, Betsey Johnson revealed to a reporter from Jezebel that John Cale was her favorite of her husbands.
 

Betsey Johnson and John Cale on the back cover of his 1970 solo album Vintage Violence

Posted by Kimberly J. Bright
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06.12.2013
05:15 pm
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Pimpin’ ain’t easy: Creepiest pornstar interview of ALL TIME?
06.12.2013
04:22 pm
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I think you’ll agree, dear discerning Dangerous Minds readers, that this would be difficult to top… either in the near term, or decades from now.

Wow, where to start with this one? Or should I even try? Just hit play, but be SURE to watch it all the way to the end, because it just keeps ramping up and up in the insanity department until the genius ending. It’s laugh out loud funny, but when it’s over your jaw will be on the ground, and trust me, it will stay there.

This is every flavor of wrong and then some.

It will probably not come as a surprise that this well-adjusted young lady also happens to be employed at Dennis Hof’s World Famous Bunny Ranch in Nevada. I wonder if he still gets a cut of that as her “manager”?
 

Posted by Richard Metzger
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06.12.2013
04:22 pm
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‘Drumbo’: One of a kind painting of Captain Beefheart sideman for sale on eBay
06.12.2013
04:01 pm
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John “Drumbo” French of Captain Beefheart’s Magic Band is selling a one-of-a-kind portrait of himself on eBay to fund a new project.

This painting was painted using a post-card sized photograph.  It is very well-detailed and quite clear.  The light does not reflect as much as the photo shows. It was given to me as a birthday present and portrays me (John “Drumbo” French) playing a specially-designed kit by Gon-Bops (Mariano Bobadillo specially created the kick and floor toms for me) in 1970. The photo was taken at Ludlow’s Garage, which I believe was in Cincinnati Ohio, in 1971, in the month of January.

Opening bid is $500.

Thank you Jeff Economy!

Posted by Richard Metzger
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06.12.2013
04:01 pm
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Daddy-Daughter Christian ‘Purity Ball’ celebrates virginity and intact hymens
06.12.2013
03:37 pm
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“Princess, Daddy wants you to wear your pink gown on our date. You look so pure in that one.”

This sort of mindset simply does not compute outside of Christianist fundie circles: The Legacy Institute, run by sexual “purity” advocate Carrie Abbott, is holding a father and daughter “Purity Ball” cotillion in Kenmare, WA next week—it’s already sold out—that promises to be a dads and daughters celebration of intact hymens.

The Purity Ball is only for fathers (or “key male guardians”) and daughters who are aged 12-19. An event celebrating virginity with a strong undercurrent of (hopefully) repressed incest issues. WOW. (Consider for one nanosecond the even WEIRDER proposition of escorting a young virgin who is not even your own biological offspring to such an event as her “key male guardian.” FREAKY DEAKY.)

I get the “good girls” want to meet “fine, upstanding Christian boys” at a chaperoned dance kinda thing, but this? This is fucking demented.

I fervently hope a documentary crew will be on hand to shoot this:

Dads, escort your daughter to an unforgettable event where hundreds of young ladies dressed in formal attire and their dashing fathers will celebrate purity!

This extraordinary evening includes an elegant atmosphere, pictures, gourmet dinner and dessert, flowers, music and other surprises sure to delight both father and daughter.

Legacy’s President and popular speaker, Carrie Abbott, will deliver a unique message to dads and daughters and our Master of Ceremonies will facilitate a purity covenant.

This will be a powerful and life-changing event!

Now that I doubt, but the overall cumulative effect that having this sort of horseshit drilled into their heads for years is probably going to have quite the opposite influence on these young ladies than is intended. Want to insure that your daughter will remain virginal and pure until she’s married in the eyes of God, Christian dads? Then you might want to consider backing off creepy shit like “purity covenants” and breathtakingly twisto events like this one!

Best of all? The tickets were priced at $69.

Via Christian Nigtmares

Posted by Richard Metzger
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06.12.2013
03:37 pm
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San Diego Airport has a bathroom for dogs
06.12.2013
03:06 pm
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San Diego Airport Dog Bathroom
 
The absolutely incredible image of a dog bathroom sporting a fire hydrant, above, was taken at the San Diego International Airport.

As of 2009, the Department of Transportation has apparently required all airports to make sure that there are pet relief areas available for any passengers traveling with service animals. The website Petfriendlytravel provides a handy guide to pet bathrooms across the US, and confirms that there is indeed a fire hydrant in the San Diego location:

San Diego International has three pet and service animal relief areas. One is located outside between Terminal 1 and Terminal 2. At the Commuter Terminal, go to the west end; the area is located outside the terminal entrance. There is also a post-security animal relief area in Terminal 2 West, complete with fake grass, hand-washing station and a fire hydrant.

(Via Reddit)

For more mayhem, follow me on Twitter: @jasonlouv

Posted by Jason Louv
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06.12.2013
03:06 pm
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