clintcatalyst: Agreed, @BloodyBlack — #Permission mag, ever-ruling! My URL that looks like 1998 coughed up an HTMHellball, other hand? Waving white flag […]
clintcatalyst: Alright, @BloodyBlack ♥ You mean this pic, http://t.co/lU6clk2b correct? If so, ran in #Permission mag — anthology/book form, this fall! […]
clintcatalyst: Hey @littleepisodes, while you're hosting fundraisers? http://t.co/QN90bC5X has illegal @AmazonKindle DLs of yr books @tumblr. #SOrebellious […]
clintcatalyst: Oh, in case you didn't notice @thegrumpyowl —That last tweet of mine? #follow endorsement, ever was one. [MeaningHe'sEntertaining,Kids! FFS] […]
clintcatalyst: "So Testis it can be, the road to salvation — though some say 'taint..." @katebornstein [ Twit-image attchd, not sp@m ] http://t.co/iyvs2Y9x […]
clintcatalyst: Any rate, remember the shoot v well @BloodyBlack — also stoked, "Best Of"/book version of [that] mag comes out this fall. Good times! ♥ […]
clintcatalyst: Speaking of sly, howevs: me, w/ web-tech @BloodyBlack? Ha. Wanted to re: image you mntd, but can't get a single link, janky site gallery! […]
clintcatalyst: I know, right @MissDestructo? Why, I might even click "Fave" on this tweet. Precaution, totes/obvs...can't let you know I've seen it! #sly […]
Bank-Thievin’, Blood-Thirsty Nuns;
Russian Roulette With Fearless Punks;
An Abrupt & Vulgar Wriggling of The Pierced Tongue-In-Chic
That’s As Uncomfortably Humorous As It Is
Sexy & Sadistic—
E x p e r i e n c e
“Sádicios Infernal”
Visit the Black Bvs Records shop for the CD-R La Main Gauche,
on which both tracks appear:
Didja notice how the previous blog post (“Mark Your Calendars…”)
Began with the phrase
✷ EVENT ONE of TWO ✷ ?
Well, it just so happens that
✷ EVENT TWO of TWO ✷
is an “out-of-town”er, which I’m stoked about:
S A L T † L A K E † C I T Y
∞ ∞ ∞
Oh, SLC—you sizzling center of the DI ♡
Over the course of the last decade, I’ve descended upon you as a spoken word performer, actor,
M.C.—for Black Chandelier/Jared Gold, as well as for the Dark Arts Festival—but never,
never this:
∞ ∞ ∞
∞ ∞ ∞
(Dare we venture use so audacious a phrase as ‘performance artist’?)
Well, considering I just referred to myself by the Royal “We” (Pluralis Majestatis)—
a nosism employed by a person of high office, like a monarch, earl or pope—I figure
I’m already dallying around with dangerous territory
as it is…
Or, in the words of fashion editor Panos Yipanis — who styled Steven Klein‘s
provocative editorial for issue 30 of Arena Homme Plus— the title
“Games & Restrictions, Candy, Twilight & Guns” was chosen…
which, considering the theme for this 15 year anniversary commemorative was “Hard Times!”
begs the question: “Double entendre much?”
★ ☆ ★
At any rate, I’m by no means the first to have admired the cinematic quality of Mr. Klein’s photography, but
when one click led to another to another, to the video embedded above
I’ve gotta tell ya: the lyrical quality, the beauty and brutality expressed therein?
Inspired some awe, yes.
★ ☆ ★
However, the impetus for this post isn’t to alert you, gentle reader, as to what’s New! Hot! Now! Besides, not only did the story run in the fall 08/winter 09 release of the bi-annual;
the sense of time is immersive.
—Instead—
I feel compelled to remark upon what I find equally as impressive/astounding as the work itself:
for all the homoerotic overtones, for this chic cult of sexual predators Klein has amassed—
for a narrative in which outré images are so tightly bound,
laced with gunpowder and black magic…
The context of where the photographs were published —
the framework from which Klein’s story was “hung,” so to speak —
bears great cultural significance.
★ ☆ ★
For those unaware, or for those who are, even—
humor me one hot little moment while I reiterate a fact so basic;
I’ve yet to come across a journalist or blogger to bring attention to it:
Arena Homme Plus is not a gay [ that's "gay" in scare quotes ] publication.
“I have always tried to sublimate the body and to make people dream.”
Thierry Mugler: Galaxy Glamour,
the most recent compendium on one of the 20th Century’s most influential designers, is out now.
While the couture division of Mugler’s House closed in 2003, his aesthetic explored a dramatic narrative
populated by supermodels and superstars, or—in the words of the designer himself—
“Personalities who know and accept who they are and fashion themselves accordingly.”
As a tribute to the so-called createur de shoc (“creator of shock”), I invite you to feast upon a series of clips
demonstrative of a runway show in the truest sense of the word: a presentation at its most ostentatious,
its most outrageous, its most theatrical.
“Fashion is not enough,” Mugler once said. “I am trying to convey sensations and feelings…I am always telling stories…I invent my characters and put them on stage. For me, clothes are a language.”
Les défilés Prêt-à-porter 90
A language, albeit, that is highly-cultivated: structured beyond the ‘natural,’ the free-flowing or colloquial, Mugler’s vocabulary is one steeped in fetishistic visuals and exaggerated ideals.
(Go ahead & fling the slab of Velveeta at me over that one—I’ll cop the rationale of Twi-hards in my defense: “I don’t know how it happened! I must’ve been roofied or something, ’cause my taste level—I mean, my defenses—were down. Really: I’m really much cooler than that!” )
Hidden, the sophomore release by British “art-rockers” These New Puritans, is now available Stateside. You know, as in: domestically. It’s a lot of things, this aural assault: a mélange of the cinematic and the classical, the intimate and the evasive, the post-modern and the profound. However, one adjective that isn’t applicable for what’s quickly become my favorite release of the year (thus far)? Sophomoric.
Spot-check this Most Correct clip for the album’s single “We Want War,” directed by Daniel Askill:
Full Disclosure: While I Loathe Band “Groupies” (seriously? try screaming at an art opening or academic conference—that’s subversive… whereas offering to give roadies head for a laminate back-stage? such a seventies’ cliché; I’m yawning), I Have An Insatiable Affinity For The Limited-Edition/Signed-&-Numbered/Gatefold/Box Set/3″ CD/10″ EP/Colored Vinyl/Picture Disc Of It All.
& no, I won’t be gauche & remind you I’m an Aries. Instead, moving right along…
—image of the band taken from their page at Last.fm (Don’t Ignore It; Explore It!)—
The video for “Elvis,” a single from the band’s premiere album Beat Pyramid, is also Most God, Indeed.
† “We’re all waiting/Or Forever Made/And if there is a God, then please take me up…” †
Consider the gents on the handsome side? You’re not alone. Twin brothers Jack (vocals) and George Barnett (drums) have been ogled by the fashion set since the band’s inception in 2005. Before they’d even released a full-length album, designer Hedi Slimane commissioned the “band” (translation: George, whom Slimane also featured on the catwalk) to record a soundtrack for his final collection at Dior Homme, the “Hiver” 2007 runway show. This was Barnett’s first professional modeling gig, though the demand for pale, angular creatures from the xy set has kept him busy: campaigns for Lanvin and Ray-Ban; editorials in Dazed & Confused, Zoo, Arena Homme +, 10, GQ, Another Man, and Vogue Hommes Japan; and runway work for dozens of designers, including Burberry Fall/Winter 10/11, Prada, YSL, Alexander McQueen, Gareth Pugh, Dries van Noten, Veronique Branquinho, Galliano, and Gucci.
However, insofar as far as my own taste goes? Not that you asked, but I’m backin’ Jack over George. & speaking of back, let’s do exactly THAT
Whereas Lenora Claire —another ‘repeat offender’ on this humble Dot Com—fully LET US HAVE IT with a mind-melding, retinal-shattering, hot hot hottt hairstyle!
Oh! But what have we here? An adorable Kat Lee , per chance?
As a matter of fact, yes: yes it is, indeed… and in the haus with her band mate and business partner, the multi-talented Kaila Yu (L)!
Our exploration of Correct Culture continues
with burlesque beauty Courtney Cruz sandwiched between an Alice duo… ♥
(while pssst! Here’s a little “JSYK,” if by chance you’re in the No instead of know):
The estimable Miss Cruz presents “tassle-twirling with a spin” at her once-a-month installment of The Devil’s Playground at Bordello bar. Described by journalist Erin Broadley as “Beyond traditional fan dancing and martini bathing,” the Devil’s Playground “integrates pop culture and niche fan favorites with the classic art of the striptease, modernizing burlesque with cleverly themed, character-driven performances like Video Game Girls, Comic Book Vixens and…Tails From the Crypt.” Known most recently for creating a disturbance in The Force for her Star Wars-themed bump-and-grind, it’s no wonder the L.A. Weekly deemed this Busty Storm Trooper’s resident troupe as Best Burlesque Club of 2009.
Here, Cruz exercised control with chanteuse Jessicka Addams and Mia Vixen, one of The Devil’s Playground performers.
Wait a minute. I mentioned this was an art opening; didn’t I?
Oh-Kay.
Unfortunately, the gallery ran out of catalogs—so I can’t even credit the Kunstler responsible for the creation pictured above. That being said, please allow me to segueway back to other deep and meaningful content, such as
the photo booth fun I had myself…ditto, Ela Darling and The Dirkulous Maximus.
Caught here on the other side of the camera is “Nightranger’s intrepid reporter Lina Lecaro,
whose years of fearless ventures—from immersing herself deep in the trenches of trannies werkin’ the merkin to ravers wielding glow-sticks as if they were num chucks—have garnered her quite The Reputation.
Incidentally, Lecaro “dipped into the population” this eve not only for the sake of a newspaper word count, but also to celebrate the completion of her first full-length manuscript. (No, people: I didn’t say script. Leave those to your dental hygenist, who’ll likely have “something for you to look over” before the luxury of another kind of script gets written. Oy.)
but why not go ahead and pre-order the betch? Assuming you remembered to close out your tab at the bar last night, that is! Such a hassle, retrieving one’s 16-digits on plastic The Day After. Isn’t it? [AHEM!] I mean: So I’ve Heard.
“Besides: it’s not like I had a hang-over or anything! It was more like…a lean-over.” Yeah. That was it—
the JARED GOLD/CLINT CATALYST CO-BRANDED MERCHANDISE—
as modeled by the Most Correct Miss Lenora Claire, an L.A.-based art curator, freelance writer, television/nightlife personality and phenomenonicon.
Item Description:
Congratulations! You are really did it this time! You’re twisted, deviant, salacious, and—of course, lovable. What better way to announce it to the world than this “Perv” Prize Pin?
While the process of uploading/archiving/formatting my site to WordPress is—generally speaking—yawnsville territory, the occasional film strip I “re-visit” compensates for the pain-in-the-assery of it all : remembrances of whom was with me, where I was, the tilt-a-whirl of excitement I felt upon picking up the copy of Flaunt, in which this brief review (see: paragraph three) appeared…
Massive thanks and congratulations, B.B.: In five sentences, you target the subject matter with a marksman’s precision. Not only is this excerpt testament to a well-honed sense of verbal dexterity, but the analysis also exhibits a sophistication—namely, your ability to exude charm despite a frugal economy of language.
And thank you, Flaunt Magazine, for the elation (however fleeting). I don’t even have to close my eyes, and I’m there again: a 7-11 in Eagle Rock, bona-fide literary groupie Mark Ewert waiting in my grandmacamry while I made this pit stop to wherever it is he was staying. The A.C. in the store is cranked, my skin a menace of gooseflesh as I stand, feet planted so I’m facing the magazine rack. There’s a large expanse of glass behind the titles—does one call it a “window” if it’s never meant to be opened?—and on the other side of the freshly-Windexed surface that’s filling my lungs with a mildly toxic freon blue scent, dusk spreads itself across the asphalt sky, immense and in gasoline hues—a Molotov cocktail tossed onto the L.A. skyline. A thick copy of Flaunt is in my hands, Selma Blair on the trademark die-cut double cover, and it’s the moment just after I flipped past Omahyra’s “Quinceñara” editorial: the moment when my eyes landed on this review, confirming the validity of what I’d heard, and as I’m scanning the words, a feeling comes over me that’s an onslaught of stimuli: it’s like being on a float in a parade, the crowd cheering; it’s like tossing a fistful of lit firecrackers; it’s a warmth of validation crawling into me by the fingertips, a delirious warmth, a fix I hadn’t even known I was craving. It’s my own Sally Fields moment, an implicit understanding of the fickle undercurrent in her Oscar acceptance speech when she gushed: “You like me, right now, you like me!”
I grab the other two copies from the shelf and head towards the cashier, not giving a damn about the transitory nature of things.
I feel traces of it still: “You like me… You like me…”
First, I’m stoked to have social media superhero Miss Destructo
as the next ‘Consumer As Spokesmodel’ (despite how admittedly goober the title may be…) :: Keep sending in those glamour shots of you rockin’ product, kids… Whether it’s a book bag or a prize ribbon, I’d love to plaster your face up here for all the w.w.w. to see!
And next, a familiar face on this blog, as of late—
Zoetica Ebb, filling the role of “Check-Me-Out-Bitches; I’m In An Ad!”
Ahhh, YES:
I really love this “bounce-out.” (Is that what they’re called?) Whatever the nomenclature,
(That’d be five stars, in case my strand of Polari doesn’t translate well.)
Fully backin’ the ability to customize the size and lay-out options, as well as the international content contained therein.
To be honest, I’d rate the content in the current “issue” as a 4.5—meaning, of course, I know full well The Indie Fashion crew is capable of upping the ante beyond the established paradigm.
My request? Sprinkle in some content fromJapanese men’s Vogue—as I’ve yet to see a single copy at any news stand (and I live in L.A., for F’s sake)… but the scant amount I’ve been fortunate to locate on-line?
Of course, there’s also the occasional editorial in Imago ‘zine (Canada), Gazelleland (New York), Coilhouse (Los Angeles) and the slew of $40-and-over periodicals rife with opulence, editorial genius and consummate consumer lust that creep their way over from Europe…
Because these?
Of course, this is merely my opinion: but it’s when these truly independent flashes of serendipity—synonymous far too often with short print runs before the recently-launched creations belly-up…
It’s when these disparate elements get stirred into an already stellar sampling of aspirational imagery
that my mind melds &
corneas are left burning with a brilliance that feels so
Alright you guys: Apart from a few tracks on which I had some creative involvement, I’ve never utilized Ye Olde Dot Com in the context of a public music share. Never until now, that is… With this: a veritable list of my 33 favorite songs from ’09.
Though it should go without saying, if anything from this catalogue aux Catalottalisps moves your spirit, contributes to involuntary thrusts of elbows and hipbones, or just plain pleases your ear canal with good aural: give the musicians some much-deserved love and support. That’s “love” as in: the kind from your pocketbook—not Nature’s Little Pocket, and “support” that doesn’t involve an underwire or cup size. Odds are, Pamela Des Barres has that Other territory covered, anyway—unless VH1′s Next Big Hit: a competitive “reality” series entitled Groupie: Go Ho or Go Home! is still in negotiations.
So, yes…here’s my first Em Pee Three Web Log
a play list intended as a means of promoting the artists as well as the art
for the sake of art itself:
The creative spirit is contagious
and these are the the lullabies that transmit inspiration
Lily Allen and Annie’s bubblegum pop with biting, cyanide-laced lyrics that
induced an emotional imprint, capture an essence:
the interrobang I experienced upon hearing the somber vocals of Fever Ray’s Karin Andersson
collide with boody-bass, a re-mix that shatters her glacial strip-tease & throws everything
off, like the crepuscular hour in which I was first infected by Demdike Stare:
hunched over at my desk, fist gripped around a sweat-slick black Ticonderoga, that
late night/early morning’s weapon of choice for my
battle with words—though what I fought more than anything was to stay awake
floating in and out of consciousness, when
suddenly and without warning, I was surrounded by an echoing incantation
that rose up, a miasma as mysterious as voodou yet synthetic, manufactured, cold
![[& Disclaimer]](http://www.clintcatalyst.com/blog/wp-content/gallery/credo-for-mp3-blogs/credo-for-mp3-blogs.jpg){kind=link}