Saturday, February 26, 2011

Five in Freedom

Earlier this week we drove to Wisconsin. Why? To help our nation's valued labor force protest the outlandish assaults on our right to collective bargaining? That's it, yes. By shredding. Photos!

Here's Dave T's street. Note Ryan's new set up. Note David Uthus.
A boarded up house! Note David Uthus's's trickery. Note Nick's hands.
Wonder: does Nick ever smile? Does Ryan ever not pose?
Reading material.
Oh sure, yeah. Gardening. Sweet. Oh yeah, for sure, fucking turnips and shit. Radical.


Thursday, February 24, 2011

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Sticker Dialogue

Salman Agah's got himself a pizza place open in Los Angeles now, and this article on Already Been Done shows that Carnie's definitely still got brilliance in him, see for example the Google Map dick drawing for context, with The Berrics and Dyrdek's warehouse factory playing the role of the dick's balls. And just listen to Salman hold court on the extensive research necessary for his Meat Jesus pizza...
I mean the dough is the big one because you gotta deal with just the environment alone. And then our dough is sourdough, so we do have our own starter that we feed and take care of -- I mean, the dough is like having kids, you have to take care of it.
Someone with kids please advise re: truth.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Roach

Los Angeles rap and skate and Supreme cap slaytime. Somethings to consider...

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Nick's been holding out on us

[Nick Peterson] is one of the best young filmmakers I have come across in a long time. His unity of vision is rare and gives me hope for the next generation of American filmmakers.
Gus Van Sant, filmmaker

What? So apparently this is what he was really doing in Portland. And look how great he looks all clean shaven. But who's that chick?

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Master

On Illinois, taken from the forthcoming The Pale King...

"Past the flannel plains and blacktop graphs and skylines of canted rust, and past the tobaccobrown river overhung with weeping trees, and coins of sunlight through them on the water downriver, to the place beyond the windbreak, where untilled fields simmer shrilly in the untamed heat: shattercane, lambsquarter, cutgrass, sawbriar, wildoat, vetch, butchergrass, invaginate volunteer beans, all heads gently nodding in a morning breeze like a mother's soft hand on your cheek. An arrow of starlings fired from the windbreak's thatch, the glitter of dew that stays where it is and steams all day, and horses in the distance standing rigid and still as toys, all nodding. Electric sounds of insects at their business. Ale-colored sunshine and pale sky and whorls of cirrus so high they cast no shadow. Insects all business, all the time. Quartz and chert and schist and chondrite, iron scabs and granite, very old land. Look around you. The horizon trembling, shapeless. We are all of us brothers."