If you find yourself in South Korea and want a coffeeshop in which you are obliged to meditate on the ... ultimate end result of the coffee you are enjoying, you are going to want to visit the Poop Café in Seoul, or, as it is properly called in Korean,  또옹카페.

The amusing website Seoul Searching posted about the café a couple of weeks ago, and the internet is having quite a titter over it. The café does not serve poop, of course—now THAT would be a story!—but many of its offerings as well as decor resemble cute turds, simply put. Your coffee mug is likely to resemble a toilet.

Here are some highlights from the charming account by Lexi, who runs the Seoul Searching blog:

There is a tree inside decorated with colorful poop-shaped papers. Then, once you are inside, you realize that the poop-shaped papers also have adorable little faces, sneakers and handwritten messages on them from previous visitors.

Inside, the cafe is surprisingly normal. … I suppose I was hoping for more of a shock factor.

Despite the ordinary interior, I began to to find those quirky poop hidden treasures I longed for. A few squat toilets that had been turned into mini gardens occupied some floor space, porcelain cups with poops painted on them lined the shelves and colorful plush coils of “poop” could be found on tables, chairs and in little nooks and crannies. I like to get a little silly with the plush poops.

Poop Café is near Gyeongbokgung Palace, on the 4th floor of the Ssamziegil Mall.
 

 

 
More pics after the jump…......
 

 
A café that organizes its offerings according to the Pantone color?  Yeah, it does seem like Monaco would be the kind of place where that could happen.

The Grimaldi Forum is a conference and congress center on Larvotto, the beach that dominates the northern section of Monaco.

On its website there is an oddly incomplete message that runs as follows: “Pantone Café, pour en voir de toutes les couleurs! C’est le bar de l’été au Grimaldi Forum… Venez vous rafraichir sous la pergola extérieure ou sous la grande verrière!”

Which more or less means: “Pantone Café, so you can see all the colors! This is the bar of the summer at the Grimaldi Forum ... Come refresh yourself in the outdoor pergola or under the glass roof!”

If you’re in Europe, hop on your #14-4809 Vespa and ride on over there for a delicious Tomato Red Mozza White #18-1660 sandwich or a Vibrant Orange #16-1364 juice!
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
via Internet Magic.
 

 
Well, here’s the WTF of the day, as far as I’m concerned: with the “Original Recipe” Colonel Sanders long having passed on to the great chicken coop in the sky, KFC has opted to do the Lazarus treatment, with the Colonel now being portrayed by ex-Saturday Night Live alum Darrell Hammond. Having seen its bottom line droop thanks to an injection of competition from relative upstarts like Chik-Fil-A, KFC has changed its tack with an aggressive campaign intended to be evocative of KFC of days past (back when it was “Kentucky Fried Chicken”, prompting the scale-down to “KFC” to make many wonder if chicken was indeed in the, uh, chicken), with the resurrected Colonel strolling around with mandolin bands, singing, talking, folksier and friendlier than ever (albeit doused in a somewhat creepy vibe akin to some of those Burger King ads of late featuring the omnipresent grinning King).

That’s not quite the “WTF,” though, listen closely and the commercial below clearly lifts the song “A Doughnut in My Hand” by Glaswegian poet/singer/outsider Ivor Cutler, only with the crucual replacement of “doughnut” with “bucket.” Is Kevin Ayers’ reincarnation in the Drop the Chalupa dog all but inevitable?
 

 
Cutler, who passed away in 2006, was a bona fide treasure, an odd and eccentric poet and songwriter who started doing voiceovers on UK TV, then was spotted by Paul McCartney and drafted into the Beatles’ Magical Mystery Tour film to portray bus conductor Buster Bloodvessel.

Here’s the original song “Doughnut in My Hand” so that you may make the comparison for yourself:
 

 
Collaborating with Robert Wyatt found Cutler being offered a deal on Virgin Records, then recording a slew of LPs, minimally accompanying himself on harmonium and over time carving himself a spot as a true outsider in popular culture and celebrated amongst the UK underground. The 1980s saw Cutler signed to the Rough Trade label, and “Doughnut In My Hand” comes from an especially great 1983 collection called Privilege, on which he collaborated with Linda Hirst. “Women of the World” from that album was a minor hit around that time, and a cover of that song by Jim O’Rourke found itself snatched up for a TV ad in the late ‘90s. There’s a nice Guardian piece of the life of Cutler here.
 

 
An amusing clip of Col. Sanders filming a commercial after the jump…..
 

 
James Brown famously never did anything in half-measures, and certainly this marvelous Japanese commercial for a miso soup product from Cup Noodles constitutes no exception whatsoever. Repurposing his signature tune “Get Up (I Feel Like Being a) Sex Machine,” Brown apparently belts out the words “miso’n ba” ad infinitum while bobbing up and down in what was likely a green-screened kitchen set, and in the second section of the clip, what looks like a disused set for a Pepsi ad but probably isn’t. (Anyone out there know Japanese? Is he singing, “Miso on up”?)

Anyway, the single easiest way to write a DM post is to find footage of James Brown doing pretty much anything, and that’s what I’ve done here. Hope you like it as much as I do!
 

 
Thank you Chris Young!

 
Since the 1980s, the Pogues have been fusing the tropes and melodies of traditional Irish folk music to the energy of punk rock while posing a serious threat to the continued functioning of their own and their fans’ livers, in the process releasing unspeakably awesome albums like Rum Sodomy & The Lash and If I Should Fall From Grace With God during their mid-to-late ‘80s high water mark. In a news release that should come as no surprise at all, it was announced that the band has aligned with West Cork Distillers to produce their own brand of Irish whiskey. Via The Spirits Business:

The Pogues Irish Whiskey is targeted towards 25 to 35-year-old drinkers and is said to be Ireland’s highest malt-containing blended Irish whiskey, with 50% grain and 50% single malt liquid.

The whiskey, described as having a “malty and floral” flavour with notes of mild chocolate and citrus, was developed by distillers Barry Walsh and Frank McHardy.

“We wanted to create an Irish whiskey with global appeal, which isn’t without its challenges,” said John O’Connell, co-founder of West Cork Distillers.

 

 
It may not take long to find it outside of Ireland, as the band and distillery plan to establish Pogues Irish Whiskey as an international brand. It’ll sell in the UK for £30 a bottle, which is about $45 USD, though import fees might jack that figure up a bit.

After the jump, some live footage of the Pogues from 1984…

Instant? Ziggy, you surprise me.
 
Whenever some foodie gets snooty about Starbucks, it’s helpful to keep some historical perspective. Before the mass coffee chain invaded every strip mall in suburbia (plus half the truckstops in bumfuck), you were likely purchasing disgusting grocery store mud on your way to work. So yes, Starbucks is a homogenizing blight of cut-throat capitalist banality, but it has raised coffee standards for your average American, who otherwise would still be choking down Folgers.

Apparently during the early 80s young people stopped drinking coffee entirely. Soda was tastier and it didn’t make you feel like an old man punching in for his day at the mill. Okay, I just made that up, but still coffee had yet to hook the MTV generation!

In 1984, The National Coffee Association launched a campaign called “The Coffee Achievers”—trying sell coffee as young and hip. It’s not exactly clear who was a spokesperson for the ad, and who was just pasted in without their consent. I find it somewhat unlikely that NFL quarterback Ken Anderson, Jane Curtain or David fucking Bowie knew that footage of them was being used to promote coffee, but it looks like Ann and Nancy Wilson of Heart were enthusiastically on board, literally; note the coffee mug being set down right on the expensive mixing board. Cicely Tyson was obviously a willing participant—and you will note that coffee makes her want to hit someone—but Kurt Vonnegut? Looks like it. The ELO soundtrack isn’t half bad, but I’m willing to bet Starbucks and the exporting of Seattle’s grunge culture did more for youth coffee consumption than the oh-so-hip Jeff Lynne.
 

 
Jesse Bearden is an illustrator and art director who hails from Austin, TX and has a clear flair for portraiture. Her online portfolio is full of quite nice pencil, ink, and watercolor works, but she really shines when she takes her work to the fridge and pantry. Her Instagram—totally worth following, I suppose it should go without saying—is full of wonderful celebrity portraits that she executed in food. Few of the foods chosen are conceptually pertinent—Caitlyn Jenner rendered in Wheaties (and what I assume must be Cocoa Pebbles?) was a gimme, no? But Bearden’s choices are still inspired: the frosting Beyonce, condiment Notorious B.I.G., bagel John Lennon, chocolate Elvis (SO MUCH BETTER THAN VELVET ELVIS, RIGHT?) and a Hendrix made out of fruit preserves are all great fun. This thread in her personal work looks to be creeping into Bearden’s professional life—she recently did a time-lapse video, for McDonald’s, of herself painting a coffee drinker in McDonald’s coffee.

Hopefully, she didn’t get burned.
 

 

 

 
Continues after the jump…

 
If you need any other reason today to marvel at the universe we all inhabit, witness someone actually etching a round tortilla with a laser cutter and playing (extremely noise-buried) music. This most certainly expands the horizons of Record Store Day to include your taquerias and Mexican grocery stores, but you have to be somewhat of an artisan to pull it off. The Instructables site recommends uncooked flour shells over corn, less lumpy in texture than cooked flour and uncooked/cooked corn. Canasta brand is one of the more findable makes, and the 9” diameter allows for a lengthier tune (I supposed a smaller tortilla can be used for a Minor Threat or Minutemen song).

One big difference though is the playback between 45 RPM and 78 RPM; as you can tell by this etching of “Macarena,” the melody is barely audible through the gunk, though one can definitely make out the chorus when played at 45 RPM.
 

 
More clips, including the laser-etching process, after the jump…

 
This Independence Day weekend will see families across America cracking some cold ones, lighting fireworks, and bar-b-queing outdoors. It’ll also see plenty of proud displays of the ol’ Red White and Blue.

The etiquette of flag display has changed dramatically over the past 50 years.

Activist Abbie Hoffman was famously arrested in 1968 for wearing a shirt that resembled the flag.
 

“I only regret that I have but one shirt to give for my country.” - Abbie Hoffman
 
By contrast, today no one seems to have any problem with selling or wearing adult footie pajamas emblazoned with the stars and stripes.
 

I got these bad boys right here.
 
Pretty much anything that’s mass-produceable by cheap foreign labor can be purchased with a flag on it. From dog capes, to thongs, to pillows, to door mats, to trash cans, it seems that Americans now enjoy a very relaxed standard of flag etiquette.

But one burning question remains: is it OK to eat the flag?

Specifically is it bad form to create foodstuffs in the image of Old Glory? And then eat them and presumably poop them out at a later time?

The Free-Times newspaper put the question to Mike Buss, flag expert and deputy director of Americanism at the American Legion. In Buss’ expert opinion:

We appreciate people celebrating their patriotism by putting images of the flag out for their celebrations! It’s not like they will string a rope up on that cake and run it up a flagpole.  At least, we hope no one will.

However, he adds, using an actual flag for a tablecloth or for any other function other than a flag is not something that the American Legion recommends or encourages. I suppose those door mats aren’t sanctioned either.

Here’s a gallery of flag inspired dishes, some of which look quite appetizing, if you’re into vexillophagy.
 

 

 

 

 
More patriotic foodstuffs after the jump…

 
Five Easy Pieces is one of the great masterpieces of the New American Cinema that stretched from 1967 to 1979 or thereabouts. Directed by Bob Rafelson (whose sole directorial feature before that was the Monkees’ trippy triumph Head) and written by Carole Eastman, the movie is practically a filmic version of Yeats’ “The Second Coming,” a prescient gleaning of bad vibes in the society at large—in September 1970, when the movie came out, no other movie was within ten miles of its grasp of the unsettled feeling that the country was going through at that moment.

The movie has several striking set pieces that stick in the mind—Jack Nicholson’s Bobby Dupea playing piano on the back of a truck, a long hippie harangue by a hitchhiker played by Helena Kallianiotes, and so forth—the best-known scene in the movie, the one that has the highest likelihood of getting thrown into an Oscar montage, is unquestionably the diner scene in which Dupea, finding himself hassled by an irritated waitress who is intent on enforcing the eatery’s “no substitution” policy, violently sweeps his right arm across the table, upending several glasses and a few placemats.
 

Pupi’s Combination Bakery and Sidewalk Café
 
Criterion has just released on YouTube an interesting excerpt from the extra features of its new Blu-Ray edition of Five Easy Pieces, which was released yesterday, in which Nicholson and Rafelson discuss the origins of the scene. It turns out that Rafelson had been annoying waitresses all over the country with his (reasonable-sounding) substitution requests—indeed, still does—while Nicholson had actually pulled the table sweep at least once before:
 

We all hung out in a coffee shop called Pupi’s up on the Strip. We were actors, so we’d go in there, sit there all day, lookin’ at people, and I came like at the end of the afternoon, and I ordered up my coffee, but they’d been there three or four hours, and I’m sipping the coffee, and Mrs. Pupi came over, and she—she took my coffee! I mean I hadn’t even—I had just got there. “You people have to get out of here” and so forth. And I said, “Oh really?” and I went like this and I just cleared the table.

 
It seems that Carole Eastman witnessed this incident and incorporated it into her screenplay. The restaurant in question was Pupi’s Combination Bakery and Sidewalk Café, and Patrick McGilligan’s biography of Nicholson treats the incident as follows:
 

Pupi’s is where Jack flew into one of his storied rages one night, quarreling with a waitress and threatening to kick in a pastry cart. That is the incident Carole Eastman said she drew on when she wrote the famous “no substitutions” scene for Bobby Dupea. … Maybe Jack actually did kick in the pastry cart. Or maybe he didn’t. It is one of those legends. …

 
If nothing else, Nicholson’s account in this interview is a useful corrective for what McGilligan calls a “legend”—it wasn’t a waitress, it was Mrs. Pupi herself, and there’s no mention of a pastry cart.