Fancy a taco?

Debruit

Dear you guys,
Debruit is dropping a new album in a couple of days, it looks like this:

It sounds like this:

http://soundcloud.com/debruit/from-the-horizon-album-sampler

I'm pretty excited - because we all know how awesome Parisian glitch-hop is.

Apparently Debruit has been digging up rare African melodies for three years to create this album that these guys said reinterprets raw tribal sounds, 70's highlife and afro funk psych into a hip-hop and drum-heavy curveball. 

..whatever that means. Anyway I dig it. 

Here's something a little older that you should probably listen to:

I've been wondering a lot lately why there aren't more dudes wearing lipstick.
Stolen from theflopbox.com

Pez Obama by Mauro Perucchetti

Magic Man!

Try not to watch this at least 10 times.
Thanks Joe!

HUDSON MOHAWKE X LUNICE

Can not wait.

Alumina

A while ago I was flying home from the east and while admiring the view from the window as we flew into the city I noticed something from above that looked huge and kind of cool. So, when I got home I jumped on google maps and started having a look around the area for what it was that I had seen. I'm not even sure if I found what it was that I was looking for, however, I did find an Alumina refinery in the area and decided that a birds eye view of one of these things looks pretty fucking incredible.
Anyway, it has taken me ages but finally I decided to sit down and waste some time searching for the different refineries all over the globe and taking some screen caps of what I found. Thus is the result...

Most of these are in Australia with a couple from Canada, USA and Brazil. Other countries included China and I think Pakistan but the satellite images were pretty rubbish over those countries so I gave up. :)

Last week when I was trying to prepare a presentation on copyright law and all that is boring that goes along with it I thought it would be a great idea to liven things up by starting the presentation with this as the background for the cover slide...

Needless to say, I got a bit carried away and started searching the internet for images to run with this theme, so much so that I forgot to do my presentation. Now its my big day and all I have is a bunch of beach related photos from the 80's, a bunch of pretty rad beach related photos from the 80's yes, but still no presentation. 

I wish I could be the kind of person to go though with this theme while committing to a serious presentation and powering through it with no acknowledgement of what's going on in the background of my slides but I don't think I have it in me so I decided to share the pictures here with you.

PS. I can't be bothered acknowledging the photographers for some of these photos because I didn't write them down at the time when I was furiously pulling them off of the internets - which is pretty ironic considering that the assignment is on copyright, I know - but I'm happy to remove it if its yours and you're offended.

This video clip is rad.

A Drive-by in Compton?

Drive-thru funeral home

The deceased is Robert Sanders, 58, visited by various members of friends and family at the Robert L. Adams funeral parlour in Compton, LA.

Photos from REUTERS by Lucy Nicholson.

Stairway to Stardom

Folkes, I spent the early hours of today watching old Stairway to Stardom acts on youtube. I love it, from the really bad 80's outfits to the awkward pot plants on the floor, this show has too much good on offer. I've posted a rather large selection of my favourites, however, if you want more, maybe an awkward magic show? bad comedy? or a chocolate woman called Yvonne Cummings dancing with cheerleader pom poms, hit up youtube.








This lady's name is Precious Taft...






This is pretty wow


Creepy amazing goes no where puppet show...


Anyway, I think that's enough.

Chinese Burger

I was reading over here about Kung Fu Kitchen's $4 Chinese Burgers and figured yesterday afternoon while in NB that I'd have a crack at it. Now, the thousands said it was the best burger in town, personally I think it was pretty damn good, however, it was no 'crane standing amidst a flock of chickens' - as the Chinese saying goes. What I mean to say is that its no contender against a real burger, you need at least two as a meal (probably 3 if you're hungover), and don't expect to feel good about yourself or remotely attractive post consumption. Anyway, it was pretty delicious, it comes in two meaty flavours of pork or beef. See the above photo for the pork delight - succulent* pork in special sauce with nuts and some green bits. While the bread looks to be a hollowed out English muffin, it is in fact 'home made' and possibly fried.
I give it 3.5 Tiananmin squares out of 5; I was expecting leftover chow mein tipped into a bun, this was not that.


*this word makes me puke, but its also pretty good.

Old school record covers

We're moving house. A box of my mothers old records emerged. The topless guy with the flute is my favourite but I thought I'd post a few other cool ones since anything is a welcome distraction from carrying shitty boxes down stairs.

Every so often something comes along that seems so great in my mind that I'm not quite sure what to do with it or how to share it with the people I know.

Now I'm an avid drinker, there is no challenge too small or large, however, there is one so epic that it makes my hair stand.
Imagine this; a pilgrimage far north into subarctic conditions to a town called Dawson in Yukon territory, population 1,250. Here, amongst the snow covered mountains during the endless cold, dry winters remains a bar; The Downtown Hotel.

This bar I imagine to be made with wood logs, while inside you can find all manner of hard drinking men, hunting rifles left at the door, or perhaps their rigs parked out front while they stop for one on the long haul to Alaska, each man with a life story etched into his weathered face.

In this bar, where men come to drink, is a beverage not for the weak of stomach. The sourtoe cocktail is its name. The main ingredient, a pickled human toe. The premise is simple, the toe is placed in any drink you choose, originally a beer glass of champagne, although I think I'd rather go for a short straight glass of whiskey, no matter - as long as the toe touches the drinkers lips, the challenge is accomplished. The saying goes "You can drink it fast, you can drink it slow - but the lips have gotta touch the toe"

This friends, has made my list of things to accomplish before I die; to become a sourtoer!
For more, swing by the charming website http://www.sourtoecocktailclub.com/
Here you can learn all about Captain Dick the proprietor of this fascinating bar.

Guys who sit in trendy cafe's trying to look... trendy.

As you might have guessed, I'm sitting in a trendy cafe; the staff are dancing to rockabilly, they have tattooed arms and graphic t-shirts, and everything in my surroundings looks pretty cool.

Except for one guy. One guy is sitting quietly in the corner writing something and listening to something through his ipod, which is all good and well until it dawned on me that everything he is wearing and doing has been premeditated in an attempt to look like one of those trendy guys and has unfortunately and quite dramatically fallen short of what it is that he was trying to achieve. So I've decided that I'd list a few things (I don't have a lot better to do with my time) to give this guy and guys alike an idea of why it all went wrong.

Now, before I continue with this train of thought, I want to make it clear that I am in no way exceptionally trendy, well dressed, or know anything about what I'm talking about at any given point - having said that, there are a few rules that I consider are general knowledge when it comes to trying to dress yourself.

Firstly, if you have to wear blue denim jeans and a blue t-shirt - don't make that t-shirt the one with the Superman crest on it - You aren't and never will be Superman, and you're not fooling anyone.

Secondly, those horrible leather motorcycle style jackets with the two toned racing stripes that aren't really for motorcycling but for looking cool - aren't really for motorcycling, or for looking cool - however will make you look like you walked off the set of a bad 80's/90's T.V drama targeted at angsty teens.

Thirdly, moleskines are pretty obvious to spot, so if you have to use them to dignify what it is you're writing down, you can be subtle about it - you don't have to leave on the banner around the cover that visibly says 'moleskine', you look like a simp who couldn't unwrap something properly.

Next, shoes are important, they're an understated key component to any well considered ensemble. With that in mind - don't wear shoes that came from rivers, or look like they may have come from rivers - they have the power of making anyone who sees them sad, except for that energetic father of three with a low-wage salary and a mortgage who just loves the money he saved buying his own pair of attractive, genuine leather, and comfortable! weekend shoes.

Finally, it must be pretty awesome having a brand new iphone4, I know you're impressed because you're picking it up and doting on it every second minute - but don't go and cover it in an apple trademark white case with the white headphones plugged in playing god only knows what - probably U2. It makes you look as sterile as the white that is in abundance with your phone - which is essentially the equivalent of removing your nuts and wearing them on your sleeve.

With these five basic rules in mind there is no way you will become the target of any subfusc blog's attempt at a 'what not to wear' article, or be made to feel uncomfortable by the blogger and her friend trying to unsubtly take your photo.

I can't think of anything worse than a giant glittering shoe.

Do you know what sucks?

Not having internet!

I've moved into the 'villa borghese' with my good friend Pia. Life is swell BUT i have no gaddamn internet. How am I to keep the world up to date on my exciting adventures and profound thinkings?

Oh blog. how I miss thee.

I am at uni.
The computers are slow.
I have a hangover
or sleep dep.
or something.

I think I will come back when I actually have something to write.
Right now I am as vacuous as a black hole.

hehe black hole.

So I'm home.
Everything is a mess! I cant see my desk - i had to clear arm holes through the junk to reach my keyboard. And there are books all over my floor in piles and boxes because I thought it would be a good idea to throw away my bookcases right before I left.
Also I only have about $20 to my name.
AND its hot!
All this aside, lets talk about my going away present to some poor Korean boy...
I've been sick the past week from some mysterious food poisoning I picked up in Jeju Island so that basically whenever I eat I vomit uncontrollably.
Anyway, Saturday morning I get up, I have some spare time and there was breakfast prepared downstairs at the place I was staying so I thought.. ok, just a bit of rice, maybe a little soup and I'll be fine.
Unbeknownst to me, loitering in the kitchen was the Ajima (lady who owns the place and prepares the meals) and she proceeds to serve me a huge bowl of rice and equally huge amount of soup.
I didn't want to be rude - so I ate it all.
And I'm feeling fine, my friends come to help me to the airport, we ride the bus for about an hour, everything is cool. We check in my luggage and hit up burger king so they can have some breakfast. I'm not feeling the best but its still ok at this point and I'm thirsty - so I have a coke.
But then, afterwards, I decided I didn't want to leave the country without one last banana milk (the god of Korean beverages) so I find a convenience store and down one of those bad boys quickly before saying bye to my friends and going though customs.
I make it to my gate, sit down. I'm taking deep breaths at this point, telling myself I'll be fine.
I start to perspire... but its ok.. its fine. People are boarding the plane and I'm camping out, waiting for the cue to die down.
Then it's time. I get up and approach the boarding staff. I'm through, all I have to do is make it to the plane, take a seat, chill and it should all pass.
But then through the gate... an escalator.
I'm descending and it hits me, rising in my chest, a malevolent beast. I get to the bottom and there's nothing; the bridge is packed with people, an empty room and some Korean guy sitting at a desk with mysterious doors behind him.
So, I drop my things and run up to him and I'm all like "I have to go back there and vomit". And hes looking at me all confused and I'm doing vomiting hand gestures and looking panicked and looking at the doors and hes telling me no in Korean, ushering me into an elevator...
So I'm all whatever at this point, I'm hunched over, taking deep breaths, swallowing heaps. I get in the elevator and hes riding with me when it happens.
I see myself projectile vomit down the mirrored wall, he turns in slow motion with a look of horror at me and I'm trying to catch the vomit, its pooling on the elevator floor and I'm looking down at it and at my hands and at his face, all in the space of one floor.
When we arrive at the top I'm finished, we get out of the elevator and the doors close. He says something in Korean and the rest of the staff look at me.
One of them takes the vomit coated boarding pass from me, I'm still cupping vomit in one hand and running off to the bathroom.
I get there, wash myself as best I can - feeling fantastic at this point, having been relinquished of my daemon.
Only then to have to return to the gate, take my vomit coated pass from the hostess (who handled it between the tips of her thumb and index finger like the disgusting vomit coated plane ticket it was) and then, take the walk of shame... Back down the escalator, past the boy at the desk - his face still wrought with horror - down the bridge, and onto the plane, the last passenger.
Anyway, I sat down next to some importer-exporter Iranian guy with a big head who was on his way to New-Zealand to visit relatives? I smelt like vomit but needless to say, I slept like a baby for the six hour flight. It was amazing.
All aside, Korea was fun - as I expected.
I may this week, if time allows, post some photographs of the highlights of the ordeal.
If not, until next time, keep it real.

So I saw Valentines Day.
It was horrible.
I hate myself for having seen it, so bad was it in fact, that within 15 minutes I was contemplating ways in which I could get out of the cinema and run screaming down the street clawing at my face and eyes.
My first instinct was to fake a call, run, and then later explain to the Korean guy now saved in my phone simply as "do not answer" that my father had a stroke and I had to leave and pack and go to Australia and that I'm sorry but he should stop calling.
But instead I camped it out - hating myself.
Never have I witnessed such unmitigated crap.
(This was Tuesday by the way... it's Sunday and I'm still mad. Its Sunday and Valentines day and I'm having rape-like flashbacks)
And the salt to the wound was that somewhere in close proximity some garlic eating mother fucker was breathing all up in my airspace.
I had to watch a romantic horror show while breathing some randoms garlic breath.
Why.

yo. I don't actually have anything interesting to write about.
But I'm bored and I can't leave my room right now because somehow on Friday night amidst all the debauchery I managed to lose my keys.
I got by Saturday and Sunday using my house mate to let me in but now hes at work/school all day so I had to face the landlady (whom I'm scared of) and ask for a new set of keys... which for some reason is taking all god damn day! Aren't Koreans meant to be super efficient or something?
Anyway, I have a few days shy of three weeks remaining before I return to Perth. And honestly, I'm kind of excited. I thought that since I was over here and not working/studying I would have heaps of time to write about things.
But its sad really, I've practically been doing nothing.
I shop, party, eat, sleep a whole damn lot and sit in Starbucks reading - yes, Starbucks, I'm such a hack.
So, I'm kind of looking forward to having uni and work to get back to, having a car to cruise around in and some warmth and sunshine, not to mention my bedroom and all the things in it.
Anyway, as I sit here sipping some shitty packaged "mochapresso" scribbling stuff in my sketch book and feeling sorry for myself, I listen to Jon Hopkins. Someone a while ago told me to download his work and although I don't remember who (probably Tim or maybe Nakil.. maybe Hayden) I'm pretty happy about it anyway, its remarkably good and soothing.

He's some Brit electronica guy, check it out:




Also, I finally read the Monkeys Mask (Dorothy Porter), which I mentioned I wanted to read sometime ago. It was awesome, and it only took a few hours so you can easily bust it out and I strongly recommend you do. Its about a lesbian private detective trying to find a missing girl and her killer. Oh, and its written all in verse. Here is some of it:

Dead Kids:

Dead kids upset me.
There's no drink
to take away the taste
of a fresh face rotting.

Useless
to tremble and vomit
and howl it's not fair.

You look at the spots
on the back of your hand
you look at the lines
fraying your face.

But you're still glad
it's the kid
not you.


Oh awesome, I have some keys now. I don't even feel like going out anymore. It's rainy and cold.
Tonight I'm going to see Valentines day with some creepy Korean guy who wouldn't stop talking to me on the subway a few weeks ago. He beat me down into going to the movies with him the evening I met him. We saw "It's Complicated".
I'd like you to imagine for a moment what it would be like sitting next to a middle aged Korean man you'd just met, while watching a romantic comedy that's comedy is mostly derived by old people having sex, getting high etc. while your Korean friend eats and offers to you terriake flavored beef jerky.
I really cant wait for our movie date this evening.

I think that's all I have.