My Hunger
My recent residency in Hollywood made me realize something I’ve let slip through my mind in the many years of chaos …
All the warm sunshine can make a woman’s blood taste so exquisite …
Everything you think you know about Vampires is true. Or is it? To understand the myth is to understand the concept of the Gods. This all depends upon the era, the culture, individual imagination, gullibility or faith.
The days are here where you can’t even move without vamps being everywhere. Fangs on t.v., fangs in the movies, fangs in the bedroom. Everywhere vampires. Stripped down, junior romance, bad movies. Vampires, as Stephen King said, taking Erica Jong’s phrase, were the ultimate zipless fuck.
But you can never kill the undead. And they wouldn’t be popular if there hadn’t have been centuries of amazing literature as their foundation. Be it metaphoric or whatever else that stirs you, makes you nervous, or wakes you up from your dreams.
Hey everyone! This is Mich (writer of Lip SerVICES and editor of the LS ‘zine). Chad and I had a chance to plot and scheme together while he was here in H’wood. We shot a full photo story series for Vampyrotic (with the lovely Shauna Ryanne). In it, Chad is a rock star and Shauna a … well … an aspiring Starfucker (you will note clever use of Starfucker Fishnet along w/ the micro-mini in the shots!). As you can image, Shauna gets a bit more than she bargained for in seducing this rock n roll vampire.
In the meanwhile, here’s a little peek! We’ll add some more to our production blog as we get closer to publishing the new issue. Enjoy!
Death and the Gothic go together like … two things that go together. Much of our modern gothic fashion is modelled from the idea of memento mori, and the trappings of Victorian mourning ritual. I thought it might be interesting to research the two:
Memento Mori, translated from Latin, means “remember you will die”, or “remember your mortality”. A memento mori is an object or talisman a person keeps with them, or a depiction or painting drawn to remind them of their own mortality.
The phrase dates back to ancient Rome, where a servant would shout the words to the General as he paraded through the streets of Rome in his Triumph (a parade to honor his victory in war). The servant’s job was to stand behind the general and remind him, even though he was on top of his game, tomorrow he could die.
"Danse of Death", by Michael Volgernut, 1493.
When Christianity swept across the world during the Medieval period, so too did a fascination with death and divine judgement. Memento mori appear in funeral artwork on the tombs of noblemen – including the gruesome cadaver tombs, where the funerary artist depicts the decaying body of the deceased.
Another popular Memento Mori scene from the 15th Century was the danse macabre. In this scene, a dancing Grim Reaper summons souls from all stations and walks of life to dance alongside him. The danse macabre reminded people of the inevitability of death, whether they were a king, a child, a worker, or a slave.
When it came to mourning those who had already passed, the Victorians had some of the most unique and sombre rituals. In a society bound by strict rules of etiquette, it’s no surprise funerary and mourning customs had strict rules and customs. Victorian Mourning consisted of two stages:
At first glance, this looks like a normal photo, but this fireman is dead. Behind his left leg, you can see a stand which is holding him up. (As if his creepy, white eyes didn't give it away)
Deep (or Full) Mourning: The length of Deep Mourning depended on the age and sex of the person who died and your relationship to them. Men wore an armband to signify their Deep Mourning, but women were thought to be in more emotional turmoil than men, so were subjected to special rules.
If your husband died, leaving you a widow, you would remain in Deep Mourning for a year and a day. You would wear clothing made only from black crepe – a dull fabric with no shine. All your adornments, including your handkerchief, gloves and parasol, had to be black.
You would draw the curtains, and stop every clock at the time of death. You cover all mirrors, in case the deceased’s soul becomes trapped in the glass. You stand guard over the body until it is buried. You cannot leave the house except for church and to visit relatives.
Half Mourning: After the period of full morning finished, half-mourning began. In half-mourning, grey, white and purple were permitted, although trimmings, jewelry and accessories would remain black.
Victorians took the idea of memento mori to a new and macabre level, often carrying lockets and items of jewelry containing hair from their dead loved ones. These pieces usually contained jet or other black stones.
They were mad about post-mortem photography, where the deceased would be posed in a portrait, dressed in their usual clothes and made to look as though they were still alive. Photographic equipment had just being invented, and was considerably cheaper and quicker than painted portraits, so the Victorians took every chance they could to pose for a photograph.
In most post-mortem photographs, the dead are shown in a serene sleep, but in some, given that the portrait sitting might be the family’s only opportunity for a photograph, the body will be propped up, dressed and made-up, eyes held open with glue or clamps, or painted on over closed eyelids, and surrounded by the family. Children would be posed with their favorite toys, giving a more lifelike scene. Unlike memento mori, these pictures were thought of as memories, not reminders of mortality.
Read More:
In this picture, you can see the girl's pupils have been painted on, and the stiffness of her hands, which would have been held in place with lengths of wire. The stand behind her feet would run up her body with clamps at her neck and waist, and her clothing would be open at the back.
La Carmina and her “latest victim”, Tokyo-based actor / model / stylist Sebastiano Serafini, kick-started 2011… with a blood-drenched Hollywood Invasion! Our Los Angeles trip included photoshoots, TV meetings and hosting Goth parties, such as Bar Sinister New Year’s. But a major highlight was crashing Lip Service headquarters and putting on fangs for a Steampunk Vampire photoshoot.
Our shoot was for Vampyrotic, a magazine to “celebrate our dark sanguinary desires in gorgeously captured photos and video.” We crept into Servitu, a private Los Angeles dungeon, with our mastermind photographer Mich (who took all photos in this post).
But let’s rewind a little bit. We began the day at Lip Service headquarters in downtown Los Angeles. Sebastiano and I were like spooky kids in a candy store: so many clothing samples to try on, from red furry jackets to cage skirts! We met Mickey and Bryn in the red office, and got an exclusive preview of the upcoming designs.
The behind-the-scenes tour made me feel like Alice in Wonderland. Sky-high shelves containing fabric rolls and and boxes of trimmings!
It was impossible to narrow down our clothing choices for the shoot, so we ended up taking several sacks with us (including borrowed top hats and stomper boots). Mich fitted us with vampire teeth, which you first soak in warm water, then press to your canines until they firm up and stay in place.
Servitu Studios was a funhouse of torture equipment, including restraints, medical examination chairs, rusty cages, and a “vacuum bed” that vacuum-packs a person into latex. (Sebastiano: “Should we try?”) We settled on the dark aristocratic chair by the window and filled our wine glasses with blood. Our outfits are mostly coordinated from Lip Service’s Step in Time Steampunk collection.
We changed into Nocturnal Rendezvous and Circuit City garments and climbed to the rooftop. Dusk was falling and the sky was radioactive blue. Perfect for a Power Rangers pose.
Domo arigato gozaimasu to Mich, Mickey, Bryn, Maria and everyone at Lip Service for having us as models. I’ll post more photos from the Steampunk Vampire fashion shoot on La Carmina blog, in addition to scandalous Los Angeles Gothic fashion and party photos… come take a drive-by!
Another birthday had come, and with it one more party to add to the list. We were at one of my favorite bars in the city; we being myself and a close-knit circle of good friends I’ve amassed over the years, those I truly felt close to. It was a moderately satisfying, if rather uneventful, night; the bar crowd was typical and the drinks were pleasantly mediocre. We were overdressed, of course, decked out in lavish flowing gowns and enormous hair more fit for a ballroom than a barstool. But this was a celebration and absolutely no time to conceal our love for the garish!
The venue was in full swing, but the lack of exciting dialogue was causing prime time to feel more akin to mime time. Something that would take the night from a blasé 4 to a riveting 8+ was in order. As if on cue, the dubious on-and-off love interest of my old college roommate decided to grace us with his typically “too cool for school” presence. He was an odd fellow, known for both his ironic Franz Ferdinand moustache and highly acclaimed work within the field of street pharmacy. He stepped forward to reveal that he had a blotter securely tucked away in the gargantuan Native American tribal chief ceremonial headdress perched atop his head. Not ones to normally partake in such rash activities (such as conversing with hipsters), we thought ill of the notion at first, but ultimately decided to throw reason on its head and see where this new development may lead us (possibly jail). There were three of us that decided to indulge and we each ingested our respective portion. For some time there was little impact beyond elevated adrenaline levels, but suddenly the world began to grow thin and long until a blackness corroded the lens of perception.
see full size in gallery below
After some time, as to the duration of which I could offer no educated guess, I became aware of myself once again. I was standing up, apparently the same as I had been at the bar but, in growing cognizant of my surroundings, I realized that I was somewhere quite apart from said city-dwelling tavern. There was simply what appeared to be a ramshackle, old dwelling floating solitarily in a void; nothing but amorphous darkness beyond the small bit of soil and several trees serving as the withering buildings’ meager estate. My options were few, and panic oddly suppressed, so I decided to see what lie within the crumbling edifice.
Not surprisingly, the interior matched the degeneration of the exterior; the walls were stripped of paint and paper, the floors were missing large sections and the ceilings were precariously cracked and splintering. There was dull light streaming in from an unforeseen angle which provided something of a conduit in navigating the inner sanctum of the structure. The bottom levels were all but uncharitable, so rather than tempt fate, I chose to ascend the staircase in the front room. Reaching the top of the stairs, I noticed that many of the upper rooms would nary accommodate a human body; however though, one particularly large empty room stood out among them as potentially habitable. With nowhere else to traverse, I ventured into this area.
Save for the bits of crumbled plaster and brick around the edges of the room, the floor was entirely bare. The walls had become uniformly blank with age, and the only things which stood out were a long abandoned fireplace and a rather dusty, ancient couch. This was strange enough, until, in a startling revelation, I noticed that some force or entity had posted a sizable HAPPY BIRTHDAY marquee along the back wall, and left a rather bulky cube-shaped present on the rustic couch. Both of these items lacked signs of age or length of stay. Normally, I would run from this uncanny scene, frightened out of my mind, but the effects of the drug and/or the blur of the dreamlike state caused in me an intense curiosity instead, and a distinct lack of fear. This was apparently to be my private astral party and I, as the guest of honor, should take care not miss it. I took my place on the dust-encrusted throne and proceeded to take the present into my lap. Across from me on the wall was a large rectangular mirror. As I stared at the reflected image of myself, I had the bizarre feeling of being watched, almost ethereally, as if the reflective glass was storing an image of me. Inquisitive, but un-phased, I resumed my duty of opening the sole present bequeathed to me by this inexplicable residence. I poised myself to grab the bow and tug it off, slowly removing the ribbon and peeling back the top of the container to peer inside…
I blinked my eyes, startled, as if abruptly awakening from a particularly gripping nightmare. I was sitting in my dimly lit living room, alone and empty handed. Unsure of what had just transpired, I resigned myself to bed and fell into a deep slumber almost immediately. Later, I would learn from my friends that I had left the bar on my own and none of them could find me and knew nothing of my whereabouts for the remainder of the evening. They speculated that I had caught a cab home straightaway and fallen asleep. That was an easy explanation, and I think that I should not tell them about the mystifying pictures I found the following day on the sofa in the room I awoke in. The pictures of me in my party dress, sitting on a strange, deeply aged couch in the middle of a barren, grimy room holding a large, pristine present in my lap…
see full size in gallery below
“The highest of all holidays in the Satanic religion is the date of one’s own birth. Every man is a god if he chooses to recognize himself as one. So, the Satanist celebrates his own birthday as the most important holiday of the year. Despite the fact that some of us may not have been wanted, or at least were not particularly planned, we’re glad, even if no one else is, that we’re here! You should give yourself a pat on the back, buy yourself whatever you want, treat yourself like the king (or god) that you are, and generally celebrate your birthday with as much pomp and ceremony as possible.”- Anton LaVey
Inspiration List: Estigmas (the Z-grade Spanish post-Apocalyptic fetishistic Nazi-sploitation film by Jose Bravo & J. Luis Martinez ), finding practical use for my extravagantly fancy Salon Du Pop ballgown, Hello Kitty children’s birthday thotchke, the delicious juxtaposition of gas masks worn with party dresses, sharing past experiences of fun with hallucinogens , abandoned buildings, turning 28 on January 22nd and celebrating my favorite Satanic Holiday of the year.
Whoever said that gas masks and glamour are mutually exclusive obviously hasn’t seen the bling encrusted and Louis Vuitton-logo-emblazoned conceptual “High Fashion Protection” pieces conceived by Diddo Velema. While Velema’s bizarre designer breathing apparatus appears to be a tongue-in-cheek reaction to “our collectively insatiable culture of consumption”, my own coupling of gas masks and ballgowns is completely devoid of any underlying political innuendo. It’s merely an ode to unconventional pairings of metallic frocks that would be most at home at a Martian senior prom, post-Apocalyptic survival gear, and playful child-like accessories.
Alas, sometimes our best laid plans (such as dropping acid in a haunted house) should remain confined to the realm of a controlled environment for sanity’s sake. The “Ominous Birthday Princess” getup looks simply darling at a photoshoot or a music video, and it will easily seize the imagination of any live audience member at a stage performance. However, certain fantasy-based stylistic statements won’t translate all that well in a club environment, mostly due to the fact that gas masks tend to be face-meltingly hot, and wearing one for an extended period of time without being overcome with the distinct feeling of drowning in your own perspiration can prove to be quite challenging. Unless you’ve got an actual sudden chemical warfare emergency on your hands and preventing toxic irritants from liquefying your eyes is your new number one priority, you’ll probably want to tear the fucking thing off in under an hour. And the sweaty aftermath? If you don’t mind oozing salty fluid out of every pore, go on and live out your dream of becoming the human sauna. But when your friends suddenly flee the scene to “wash their hair” or “call their grandma” at 1:00 am on Saturday night, well – don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Silver Belle
Vanity’s take on birthday girl glam:
Salon Du Pop 14-71 “Marquise Gown” and matching 14-70 “Flaunt and Flattery Shrug“ in the silver/black colorway shimmer with the otherworldly inapproachability of a garb fit for an entity which exists solely outside of the common man’s perception of reality. The more LSD-laced tiki drinks one consumes, the greater their chance of catching a glimpse of her on the physical plane.
Purple and black petticoat to further amp up the volume of the lavishly decorated Salon Du Pop Marquise Gown, adding considerably more “pomp and ceremony” to the party. Trust me, LaVey would’ve wanted it this way.
To avoid getting mistaken for your own birthday cake, balance out the proportions of the billowing lace-trimmed sleeves of the shrug and the multi-layered floor length skirt with the addition of a black waist cincher. It will take the “foofy” quotient down a notch.
Clinical trials have proven that 10 out of 10 times gas masks looked more legit/creepy/”industrial” than the respirators , dust masks and silly so called “surgical masks” that cyber kids can’t seem to live without. (Read my extended anti-respirator-as-fashion-accessory rant here)
Purple sparkly Hello Kitty tiara
”Birthday Girl” award ribbon pin. Because I’m the guest of honor, bitches. And no force in the universe will stop me from obnoxiously announcing it with my attire.
Welcome to the official Year of Nigel Tufnel, here in Lip SerVICES. If you don’t know why it’s the Year of Nigel, please hang your head in shame and get thee to Google … Philistine *heh*.
Anyway, with it being the start of a fresh, new year as well as the end of a kinda weird one, (not to mention your faithful degenerate correspondent being up to her neck in photo editing and shoot planning for the next issue of her sexy vampire web magazine) it seemed a good time to forego reading up on new topics and, instead, just riff on the year to come. So welcome to the VICES which will otherwise be know as “I Love Me a List!”
Let’s get started, shall we?
PREDICTIONS!!!!!!
It is hard to debate against the notion that, for many of us, the internet should probably be considered a vice, so I figure it’s still relevant to the general theme of my regular ramblings here. And, of course, as someone who spends the better part of my life creating stuff for and spending time on the inter-webs, my thoughts tend to spill in that direction, anyway. So, that in mind, I wanted to dedicate this VICES to some of my predictions (and hopes) for the year ahead on the inner-tubes.
@wilw: actor, writer, all-around groovy geek cat
10 – We will continue to discover the dirty little secret of many of the celebrities we’ve adored and admired. For example, though it’s not exactly a secret Courtney Love is bat-shit crazy (and Cher is a bit off her beam, too), we were never prepared for the opposite sort of discovery … many of our favorite stars manage to be some of the most boring and insipid people on Twitter. Whether it’s because they’re too mindful of image or just plain dull as dirt is not really that important when you’re bored to tears. Happily, the converse is true of some celebrities, who choose to let it whip and just be their fascinating, insightful, and often goofy selves (@wilw, anyone?). They may not necessarily be on the huge megastar creepy Scientology recruitment list but are far more interesting people we’d like to hang out with every day.
9 – More people will use the platforms of social media and networking in entertaining and often hilarious ways. Twitter streams like “Shit My Dad Says” (so sad about the show but, still, SHATNER!) and the spate of “Not” celebrity accounts (The most hilarious I’ve found so far being @NotGaryBusey) show a wicked creativity and scathingly clever wit. Others I’ve seen have created accounts on various networks for overlooked everyday objects, historic figures, characters in books, film, and comics with engaging results. I can’t wait to see what ways 2011′s twisted minds find to use these platforms in ways their creators never intended.
Tila = Stabby Hate
8 – Many people will continue to reach levels of annoying which will make the rest of us get a little stabby-stabby. The internet is an open place where anyone can contribute their voice and ideas. This is both the blessing and curse of it. Sometimes it’s hard to avoid your own personal demons … your Tila Tequilas, Perez Hiltons, and everyone who has ever posted some ridiculous self-aggrandizing crap suggesting that posting something to one’s FB status or doing some crap to the avatar somehow Makes a Difference™. Stabby-stabby feelings will happen, but often they will lead us toward somewhere free of such things and help us find new and interesting people and websites we might not have found otherwise. Sure it doesn’t make Tila any less of a toxically useless waste of space, but at least it’s something.
7 – Facebook will continue to infect another generation of youth. I came across an interesting (read: hilarious) opinion article written by a mother shocked (SHOCKED, I tell you!) by the behavior of her children’s friends and other youngsters on Facebook. (Mind you, this is not an indictment on FB, per se, but a laugh at social media platforms in general.) It seems having networks dedicated to nothing but posting all manner of content about oneself has made the kids, shall we say, a bit exhibitionistic. Apparently, the preferred mode amongst the kids in question here was to behave and pose in photos like they’re porn stars or strippers. (Funny side note: Knowing a goodly number of alt/fetish models whose very PG-rated accounts were pulled down, I find much irony in this.) Granted, having been a teenager for a time myself (not to mention having a memory of the same), I’m pretty sure we probably would have been done similarly, given the outlets and self-involved culture they have available. Still, it is amusing as hell to give a little tweak to the Chicken Littles of the soccer mom and ranting head set.
6 – Porn will still win. Yes, there will always be the squawking and breathless exhortations about cleaning up the internet. There will even be the show-trials. Yet, the dirty sexy party will continue. Sure, there are some very powerful and very vocal opponents to porn, but the reality? Plenty of them probably surf one-handed, too. And, even if they don’t, there still are way too many people who would be pretty pissed off, should the uptight micro-minority succeed in limiting access to their jollies. Would you want to be subjected to the pent-up frustrations of countless chronic masturbators, denied their spank banks? I know I don’t. That shit could get seriously ugly, really fast.
Speaking of awesome crap on the web ... THE OATMEAL!
5 – The inter-tubes community as a whole will finally rise up as one and hunt down the damned douchenozzles who still use pop-unders and auto-start music and videos. Oh, I so wish for this one, most of all!
*Okay, fair warning, I’m going to get a little more serious here. (I can’t help it. Web is much of my livelihood, so sometimes I’ve got to throw down a little.) So, if you’re looking for more snarktastic chuckles, just scroll down to the 2010 recap.*
4 – The annoying parade of endless social media platforms (and folks who try to take your money as “gurus” of the same) will see a mass thinning of the herd. We’re pretty much in a perfect storm of diminishing returns, with far too many mediums to “share ourselves”, bringing little more than overshare burnout. Don’t get me wrong … social media is one of the best internet developments of recent years, but its success could easily be the recipe for its overall failure over time.
Really, who has the time to keep up with FB, Twitter, MySpace, Foursquare, Formspring, Tumblr, much less all the niche networking sites, discussions, and profiles? Nobody with any sort of a social life, that’s who! If my instincts are correct, we’ll see a big bump up in the emphasis on interaction in actual meat-space (Fancy that!), while each staying active in just our favorite keep-in-touch and share-interests sites.
As a related follow-up … if one has followed the histories of mass user moves from one platform to another, the next prediction is a huge “duh” moment. Once a platform or networking site gets it in their head to try to capitalize on the popularity of their thing too much, too fast, the inevitable decline (and subsequent mass exodus) begins. I’ve heard lots of FB rumbling and been just as annoyed as others by the random (and often user-unfriendly) changes. Beware FB … you can very easily be the next MySpace (or Friendster … remember them?).
This is from an actual site ... Are we not inundated because we can piss on it?
3 – As in social media and networks, more and more people are getting more and more hep to the overblown (and ultimately unsatisfying) Mainstream Mass Market Machine. Whether it be commercials, ads, or whatever, Marketing is getting less and less able to sway a growing piece of the populace who has realized hype does not equal good. In fact, more people are growing increasingly annoyed by any attempt to “Market” to them in any way, especially those who have been burned too many times before. This can only be a good thing. Most Marketing (emphasis on capital M), in today’s day and age, has most of the main hallmarks of spam. It’s generally loud, obtrusive, and unwanted, not to mention that, as we grow better at filtering it out, the Marketers get more desperate to shove their Messages in our faces, making it all the worse.
Marketers tried to get around this purposeful avoidance by implanting shills in the very successful medium of smaller interpersonal and professional networks. Though a bit funny for everyone involved, it was still roundly rejected. A shill is a shill, after all, even when it’s a fanboy (or girl) doing the dishonors. If anything, this sneaky, little tactic actually set them back, causing even more annoyance at Marketing in general for its cynical dishonesty. Good show, Big Advertising!
My prediction? While Big M Marketing tries to figure out how and where it all went horribly wrong, the principals of marketing (the real ones) will gloriously live on. Every day, millions of people take to the inter-webs and actually talk WITH people (as opposed to AT them) about millions of products. They are real, honest, and (most importantly) not shouting slogans in crowded rooms. Instead, they’re finding their audience, initiating an intelligent and curious conversion about likes and tastes, and (the best part) doing it with RESPECT for the people they’re trying to reach. Imagine that, marketing which isn’t dishonest or insulting.
I know … how revolutionary, right?!?
FreakAngels by Warren Ellis - a remarkable web-based comic
2 – The expectations of the internet native generation will create a spike in content quality. Our little inter-net has grown up. So has its audience. Now, we have a new generation of adults who don’t remember a time before the internet existed. This is, of course, because they didn’t exist yet, either. Like the other developments and predictions, this is a very positive thing, set to bring an even better 2011 to the cyber-world.
Many of us who adopted the internet (and computer) at a later age were and often still are pretty impressed with just having an internet to surf. Not so, the Young Turks! Remember, this is not a new and fabulous miracle to them, but just another media and communication tool they use in everyday life. It’s like the generation before and mobile phones, the one before that with cable and VCRs, the one before with FAX. We still look at these developments as “modern advances” or, those of us who are silly people, as one step closer to The Jetsons and getting our damned jetpacks (DAMNIT!). We’re dazzled by the technology, so tend to be a bit less picky about what it’s doing.
The younger internet native generation is poised to demand more, and well they should! With their lack of wonder at the medium, they see further into the great platform it could be if we all just stopped being content with merely shouting at each other about what we’re up to at this very moment, and we all benefit by more quality content in the gigantic swirling mass of crap that is the internet.
1 – On a similar note, as we move into 2011, the lunatics will, indeed, go further in taking over the asylum!
The internet is the most powerful tool of communication and information which has ever been conceived, much less come into being. Up until now, a lot of the potential has been sadly unfulfilled. Fortunately, this situation is coming to a much-deserved end!
If you sit back and watch, you can and will see the Goliaths of old media getting theirs from a new generation of Davids in virtually all fields.
Ink: An exceptional independent film which found its audience online
Back in the day, you needed a major record label and (often bought and paid for) radio support to achieve any success as a musician or band. With clever use of the power of the internet, bands are finding they can find their audience and succeed without signing away their souls. And, without the huge cuts taken by the labels, they can do just as well (often better) without having to top any charts.
Filmmakers are in the same boat. Daring indie producers can create a gorgeous and engaging film like “Ink”, work completely outside the system, and still reach a huge audience. Even smaller indie upstarts and aspiring producers and directors can do the same, just on a micro scale. With the huge cost of going to the theater to see a movie, DVD is swiftly becoming the main market for film anyway … at least those not produced principally for overpriced spectacle … so, even without a supporting network of indie arthouse theaters (which is out there, too), good film can get out to the people who want it without the gatekeepers at the big studios and distributors.
Repeat this idea, over and over, inserting authors, artists, photographers, journalists, comedians, virtually anyone creating anything of value. The internet is the great equalizer of our time. For people creating quality work, there is equal access to all the same sets of ears and eyeballs, if they are willing to take the time and energy to go out and find them and move them enough to want what they’ve made. Certainly, being a massive world-wide conglomerate with a huge pile of money plus ownership of virtually every major network, magazine, and form of traditional media gives the Bigs an advantage in shouting down the growing swarm of smaller competitors. But, as we’ve found, funding an echo machine is growing less successful all the time. In the end, it’s all about the product … it’s all about the art.
The internet is making more and quality art available to more people, who are spending more time looking past the obvious to seek out the great music, movies, books, and art they know is out there … and the creative community is there to show it to them without insulting them or their intelligence. That’s why they’re winning and will conquer even more ground in 2011. If you listen really hard, you can hear the faint sound of a lot of people in very plush offices shitting themselves.
Congratulations, internet, on a superb year and good juju for an even better 2011 ahead!
¡Viva Web Revolution!
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A Very Special 2010 Recap …
Okay, now that I’ve spent a goodly amount of column-space pontificating and not really addressing sin or sexy subjects at all (I know! *feeling my head for fever*), here’s a little treat to make you laugh at the best ridiculous moments in sex from 2010 … what I like to call: Hilarious Sex Scandal, Thy Name is Geezer!
You SO knew Charlie was on this list ...
Sure, I could count down a whole mess of other stuff, but is there anything more awesome than old guys getting caught with their pants down? No, I say, there is not! Seriously, I have a frick’n sweet tooth for this shit! Why is it that, whenever guys creeping up into the aged territory have sex scandals, they just can’t manage to be dignified about it? Granted, I’m not complaining about the laughs, but one would hope maturity would breed some … well … maturity. Evidently, not. Please enjoy the highlights of 2010′s most hilarious Geezers Gone Wild!
5 – I’ll start off with Charlie Sheen because, well, he at least used to be hot at some point. Besides, it’s a bit less of a ridiculous event and more like an honest-to-goodness meltdown; got to admit, if you have to have a public meltdown, there are worse (and far more embarrassing) ways to do it than in a nice hotel suite with a high-priced hooker and a fuckton of blow. Just sayin’. Takes doing a Daniel Baldwin and upping the ante.
4 – From that not-quite-so-low point, let’s do a significant downslide to a lesser geezer but probably the most hi-lar-i-ous of all the past year’s sex scandals, the one I like to call:
“Brett Favre Likes to Wear Crocs While He Rocks His Cock” (Yes, I read a LOT of Dr. Seuss.)
There’s lots of great stuff on this on DeadSpin.com, in case you want to enjoy the pathetic splendor of Brett’s rap and the even more sad spectacle of his junk.
Don't you worry about what Brett is doing below the frame
Granted, outside of the obvious, there’s not a lot to write about. It’s just awfully funny … no, actually … REALLY fucking funny … and a little sad. *heh* But mostly rippingly funny. How can thinking that sending a few pics of Little Bret (*heh*) might overcome the creeptasticness of his repeated texts and rambling voice mails and make the hot, young woman in question reconsider giving him a shot NOT be the best belly laugh of the year? I mean, I could almost understand that sort of deluded idea when Brett was at the peak of his hotness or if the woman in question was not a smoking babe with plenty of opportunity to bag a younger, hotter, better catch. An over-the-hill grandpa with a very tired (and lame beyond the creepy factor) “just a country boy” patter? Meh, not so much. Outrageously funny delusion, thy name is Favre!
3 – Damn! How do you follow that? Well … then again, we DO have Mel. Ahhh, Mel!
Does anyone remember, back in the day, when we used to marvel at Mel Gibson, impressed and wondering how he did such remarkably convincing “crazy”? Well, guess THAT ship has sailed, huh! We already have the awesomely epic legacy of “Sugar Tits”, a pet name which gets frequent use around our place, but the Mel crazy train just keeps on chugging along! Sadly, now it’s just all gotten fairly tawdry and A LOT creepy.
If you’ve missed the unhinged craziness which is Mel ranting at and threatening his ex, Oksana, it really is quite the revelation in bat-shit crazy. But, in the spirit of honoring last year’s glorious mashup of Christian Bale and groovy dance beats, I will go beyond the raw rage of the original tapes straight toward the laughs and offer instead:
The Mel Gibson and Christian Bale mashup! (If you have issues with “blue” words, I’d advise skipping this heaping helping of vulgarity, because it’s pretty frick’n raw …)
Your #1 Embarrassing Dirty Old Man *cue applause*
2 – Could you ever imagine former VP Al Gore as a “crazed sex poodle”? Yeah, me either. *shudder* But, nevertheless, this is how Al allegedly appeared to a masseuse, who reported him for allegedly trying to get himself a Happy Ending™. Seriously, I don’t even want to know. I think this is all I can really say about this without feeling a little icky inside.
1 – Moving up into serious Geezerdom, we have a returning geezer from last year …
Welcome back Silvio Berlusconi!
This year, we have the new revelations of so-called “Bunga-Bunga” parties. This is where the 70-something and his pals get into a pool and are surrounded by underwater naked babes. Bunga-bunga, huh? *bets Jimi there is already a developing network of bunga-fetish sites* But, really? Ewwww even more than last year! Ancient sack + shrinkage = I need a fuckton of brain bleach to purge that hot mess from my brain pan!
Larry King: Hall of Fame Dirty Old Geezer
This next geezer defies countdowns of any particular year, being a dirty old geezer for probably as long as I can remember. So, I think I will bestow upon him the title of Honorary Grand Master Geezer and place him in the Hall of Fame (Probably a lock for Silvio to cop this plumb spot next year, too!)
I just have to say, “What in the fuck, Larry King?” Does this man have an eternal Viagra fountain in his house? A direct line to Smiling Bob? Who knew shriveled junk and suspenders were such sex magnet turn-ons for the ladies! This year, Ol’ Larry (we stopped counting the rings on his tree ages ago) got himself in trouble with wife #7 (Yep, SEVEN) for allegedly diddling her younger sister! Way to keep in classy, Lar’!
*Important VICES PSA: If you were not already aware, a Larry King is now on the loose. He should be considered armed with boner pills and VERY dangerously horn-doggy.*
Okay … all together now … EEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!
Here’s some brain bleach and mental floss for you to take with you on the way out …
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There is a lot going on, some of which I’ll cover in more detail next month, when I share some info and stories from inside the belly of the naughty beast. But, you’ll be able to check out some fun collaborations I’ve been able to do with other members of the Blacklist sooner! We’ll have some killer shots from my set of La Carmina (Global Gothic) and Sebastiano Serafini as elegant steampunk vampires (in Step In Time, of course) posted up in the next few days! Then, next week, I’ll get the chance to shoot Chad (Cherry, The Devil Inside) as a kickass rock-n-roll vamp, since The Last Vegas business is bringing him out here to LALAland! Look for the photos in his next feature!
Yes, this is already shaping up to be one hell of a fun year! More evidence to come next month!
The Cold Blue Rebels’ “Blood, Guts N’ Rock & Roll” is finally available! You can pick up a copy at Amazon or download through iTunes.
Of course, there ‘s a killer party in the works. The guys are cooking up a frick’n insane night of Blood, Guts (REALLY … have you SEEN the live show?!?) and plenty of ass-kicking Rock n Roll! If you’re anywhere near LA on the 15th, you really want to make it to Bar Sinister for a sexy, gory night of psychobilly rock madness. Oh, and did I also mention, they’ll be giving out some choice Lippy swag, as well as a gift certificate for the webstore to the best Lip Service look of the night. So come on out, check out a badass rock show, do some rocking of your own in your hot Lippy gear. You might just find yourself with a nice little prezzie of more Lippy on the way home!
If you want to get a quick preview (plus a little something from Wednesday 13 of Murderdolls), you can download the first single, “Drenched in Black” at Box.net. Preorder Blood, Gits & Rock N Roll
This month’s featured denizen of the Dark is Laurel Noelle! She’s a former Lippy model and a quintessential Capricorn.
Laurel is a self-styled natural born leader and inherently stubborn. “Once I decide to do something, one way or another, it gets done. Whether that means doing it all myself, or delegating most of it…that would be me. I am a bit of a mother hen on top of it all, with my son, with my friends, with animals also, so it stands to reason that I often feel like I need to run things.
It doesn’t hurt to be stubborn most of the time. It works well with the aspects of myself that like to be in charge. It only hurts when it infringes on my ability to reason, communicate or love, which it has in the past and has required time and patience to sort out.” When describing her introduction to the Los Angeles Goth/Industrial scene, Laurel says, “It started out at Sin-a-matic. As far as my personal style, I am a thrift store shopping … tiny boutique kinda gal, and while I used to wear mostly black, these days I like color a lot more, and I like what I wear to have a personal touch whether it be a flounce, or a pin, or something in or about my hair, to set myself apart from the norm. Though I must say I am very excited about the new steampunk items from Lip Service!”
I promise I didn’t make her say that last bit. *smirk*
And now, for your ‘Scopes!
Aries
You’ll have an uncharacteristically quiet month until around the 13th, when your ruling planet, Mars brings you helpful interactions with powerful people on the way out of his exaltation in Capricorn. It would be wise of you to exercise some patience. Ha! Try to listen carefully to the teachings and preachings of those who are older and wiser than yourself. It could mean getting away scot-free with a few of your past misdeeds but, don‘t get cocky. That get-out-of-jail-free card does not extend to serious Karmic douchebaggery.
Taurus
While you do excel at playing the role of the Lovely Assistant, January calls you to step up and be the one in charge. You have very strong support behind you but, it is almost entirely unseen. Yours is the only face in the spotlight. Just trust that someone (or something) very influential has got your back. The solar eclipse will bring your focus to your personal belief system, your world view and inspire you to reinvent it by learning more than you might want to know.
Gemini
Having shaken off the dust of his retrograde in Sagittarius, your ruling planet, Mercury speeds steadily forward, again. Carefully check your diary pages from around December 13th, 2010 so that you have a heads-up as to a potential repeat performance around January 17th, 2011. The good news is you’ll be prepared, this time. The bad news is it could look a lot like last time. Your ace in the hole is your talent for clear, precise and quick thinking especially when you are in familiar territory.
Cancer
You are caught in a tug of war between the idealistic theories to which you tightly adhere and the real world applications thereof. Some things are just better on paper than they are in practice. Your relationships – both with friends and with lovers – will continue to go through some growing pains as your ideas about how they should be repeatedly clash with what is. From the 14th to the 16th, you may even feel a bit picked on. Flex your muscles and get aggressive if you need to. Some people will find it refreshing.
Leo
Tap your personal creativity, this month. In the long, dark night of the soul it is possible to find an inner spark. You are finishing up a very trying time. I know you’ve had more than enough but, the worst is almost over. In the meantime, your inner artist is fired-up and ready to get … expressive. Also, the day-to-day routine goes through a major overhaul so, keep an eye on your health as you adjust. You who burn so brightly are least likely to realize when you are close to burning out.
Virgo
Your reputation for being a hard-ass is well earned, this month. Without you nothing would get done at all! Everyone else is lazy, hung over and unmotivated so, what else is the Great Fixer of Things to do? First, define a plan of action. Then, account for all of the random things that will undoubtedly get in the way. The solar eclipse will hit you right where you live … in some cases, literally. Get a handle on your home life before other people’s negligence becomes more than you are willing to clean up.
Libra
You’ll have to take matters into your own hands when it just takes too damn long to get permission from someone else. Go ahead and ruffle a few feathers; it’s not going to kill you. So what if some authority figures come down on you a bit hard. Haven’t you ever gotten in trouble, before? Even the Powers That Be put their pants on one leg at a time. Stop cowering in their presence and speak up, already. It’s a once in a lifetime chance to see for yourself that you are just as mighty as the almighty They.
Scorpio
Enough of this pussy-footing around and being nice! Down and dirty is very much the name of your game, his month. Venus has been camping out (mostly) in your sign since way back in September of ‘10 and it’s high time you had your digs back to yourself. After the 16th, theoretical discussions with people render new and exiting long-term plans. Your usual preference for less talk and more action seems temporarily replaced by a penchant for chattiness. Just as long as you’re talking dirty.
Sagittarius
It’s a power-packed month for all you Archers. Venus steps into your sign on the 7th, making everything a whole lot prettier, with or without the use of hallucinogens. The temptation may be to take your customary optimism to an irrational extreme. Hope is great. Just temper it with a bit of pragmatism. After the 22nd, you’ll notice you’re feeling less inclined to bliss out Zen style and more inclined to bust out the crazy Kung Fu mastery. Why fight it? Flex those new superpowers!
Capricorn
Sea-Goats have played host to some serious astrological craziness, as of late. January kicks off with a solar eclipse in your sign as well as another conjunction of Mercury and Pluto. The pen is truly mightier than the sword. The most valuable commodity is information and those who have it are calling all the shots. Debates, negotiations, even full-on arguments are where you really shine, this month. Get what you want by flexing your voice in front of as broad an audience as possible.
Aquarius
Shortly after the sun enters your sign near the end of January, your traditional ruler, Saturn begins a five month retrograde through Libra. You’ll notice less attention placed on the rules, rigors and structure of the outside world but way more on those of the inner life. Personal discipline, responsibility and fundamental principles of behavior as well as thought have you deeply engaged in the process of reinventing yourself. Trust yourself. There’s no one else in charge.
Pisces
You haven’t had this much drive and ambition since June of ’10. That was the last time your ruler, Jupiter moved into Aries. After the 22nd of this month you are focused on your task and enthusiastic about seeing it through. Ideas come at a rapid-fire pace and every one of them is in high definition. You are, in a word, unstoppable. The disapproving glares you will get from others will have little or no effect, except possibly to amuse you.
About Forest
Forest is available by appointment for personal astrology and tarot readings by visiting her website: NuiCobalt.com
My Hunger
Save for the bits of crumbled plaster and brick around the edges of the room, the floor was entirely bare. The walls had become uniformly blank with age, and the only things which stood out were a long abandoned fireplace and a rather dusty, ancient couch. This was strange enough, until, in a startling revelation, I noticed that some force or entity had posted a sizable HAPPY BIRTHDAY marquee along the back wall, and left a rather bulky cube-shaped present on the rustic couch. Both of these items lacked signs of age or length of stay. Normally, I would run from this uncanny scene, frightened out of my mind, but the effects of the drug and/or the blur of the dreamlike state caused in me an intense curiosity instead, and a distinct lack of fear. This was apparently to be my private astral party and I, as the guest of honor, should take care not miss it. I took my place on the dust-encrusted throne and proceeded to take the present into my lap. Across from me on the wall was a large rectangular mirror. As I stared at the reflected image of myself, I had the bizarre feeling of being watched, almost ethereally, as if the reflective glass was storing an image of me. Inquisitive, but un-phased, I resumed my duty of opening the sole present bequeathed to me by this inexplicable residence. I poised myself to grab the bow and tug it off, slowly removing the ribbon and peeling back the top of the container to peer inside…
