« Posts tagged substance abuse

Bloodbath McGrath? Yeah, Maing: She’s The News…

Chances are, if you’re familiar with me/my work:
at one point or another you’ve either read my enthusiastic ramblings
about the phenomenonicon known as Liz McGrath
or you’ve heard me flappin’ my gums on her behalf.

Well, as it turns out?
I’m not the only effer with a keen eye, honed-ear, & impeccable sense of taste.
See, there’s this gent by the name of Cecil B Feeder—& he’s done gone & made a movie
about little Miss Thing herselfness.  Name’s Bloodbath. You know, as in: ‘Bloodbath McGrath’?

Even if you don’t: just smile, nod, & spot-check this tease of a trailer on out…

While I’ve yet to see the docu-rama drama myself, folks who reside in Nueva York—or
very least, plan on being there this eve—are in luck.

The movie premieres TONIGHT:
Saturday, February 12, 2011
7:30 p.m. at MOMA NYC
Theater 2, T2

as part of the series

“All The Wrong Art : Juxtapoz Magazine On Film”

Among the itinerary:
Legendary X Offender, Debbie Harry, is scheduled to appear—
both to provide an introduction to the film
as well as to participate in a discussion
thereafter

[ & of course, the Bloodiest of Baths will be in attendance;
ditto, director of celebrated
celluloid reliquary ]

However: provided here, now—
a smattering of retinal treats,

a modest sampling of specimen
from this local luminary’s collected body of works
that begs the question: which ‘bodies’ among The Body
were ever actually…bodies…at all?

[ if any ]

E X H I B I T . A

Black Deer sculpture

E X H I B I T . B

Deer House

E X H I B I T . C

Truth Decay diorama

E X H I B I T . D

In The Sweet

E X H I B I T . E

Death By Desire

E X H I B I T . F

Frankie Machine

Said another way: oftentimes these “taxidermied toys,” as they’re referred,
are the cause of great pause/consternation for the artist’s audience:

My assumption is that, despite the hallucinatory realm which these phantasmagories inhabit—
the harrowing “Frankie Machine” [above], for example, in which McGrath’s allegorical depiction of
The Man with the Golden ArmThe Man With The Golden Arm, Nelson Algren renders a dramatic stasis through a potent mix of personal interpretation
and consummate skill—ultimately, it’s a soulful quality about the eyes of
these mythological beings that resonates within the human condition.

A sense of psychological lockjaw.  Addicted. Creatures of habit as much as habitat.

Translation of the Latin text?
“No One Is Free Who Is Enslaved To The Body”

H O W E V E R , E N O U G H !
of my blathering

This is, after all, work that speaks for itself—& rightly so…

For that reason—among countless othersthe Managament hereby deems it imperative
that your library includes a copy of Everything That Creeps : a gorgeous compendium
of Miss McGrath’s work [ through 2005 ].  The book itself is an <i>objet d’art</i>:
with a die-cut hardcover exterior, full-color glossy pages thick as most magazine
covers [ except with sepia stains at the edges, & cute-enough-to-kill doodles
& details scattered throughout ].  Truly, the tome invokes a sense that
one has happened upon some rare, fantastic relic from last century’s
dustbowl era.

I N . W O R D S . N O T . M Y . O W N
[ excerpt of product description ]

“112 pages of full-color photos & detail shots
reveal the exquisitely complex details of [ McGrath’s ] sweetly twisted creatures,
giving a glimpse of what the City of Misfit Toys might have become had it been
saved by Satan rather than Santa.”

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Cottonmouth Kisses Review — The Bellingham Herald

July 23, 2000

with mad gratitude to Ara Taylor

Cottonmouth Kisses, Clint Catalyst

Either click image to enlarge,
or

http://picturepush.com/public/4729559

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In Circulation: Two New Stories

&
nope, of clicky-links to URLs with disappearing ink I do not speak. Au contraire, I’m talkin’ bout publications— the tactile experience of fingertips brushing against pressed paper.  The tender crease of a spine. The stink of ink spiraling up one’s nostrillus maximus & connecting with receptors in the limbic area, stimulating electrochemical signals.

My favorite words come bearing risk of paper cuts


Vorsicht! Consider yourself hereby forewarned:
it seems I’m particularly fond of italics this fine day…

All/Same

Royal Proclamation Number One:
(a fanfare is appropriate)

The latest issue of the rad-ass, bad-ass literary journal Gertrude

is OUT—&
includes my short story “Sugar Rush”: a tribute to
C U L I N A R Y . P E R V E R Y

That’s right, baby—we’re gonna get baked, & then you get  C a k e d…

 


A H E M !
So anyway

[from the publishers]:

“To commemorate this milestone release [issue 15 of Gertrude],we put out a call for writing & visual art
that explores, celebrates or subverts queer stereotypes. ‘The Gay Issue’ represents the diversity & talent
of the LGBTQA community.”

¤ THE PARTICULARS ¤
80 perfect-bound pages of flamboyant wit, 19 verse-slingers serving noteworthy lit, &
seven shades of wickedawesome visual artistry on eight full-color inserts that
one prancy fagocytosist went way gay over, on the tip of the APA
that’d be numbers & statistics; thank.you.ever.so

featuring

Michelle Auerbach, David Brennan, Wayne Bund, Clint Catalyst, Nicole J. Georges,
Jeremy Halinen
, Daniel W.K. Lee, Kirsty Logan along with nine other lesbi-luminaries &
rump-wranglin’ Cult Icons-In-The-Makin’ that any cool-enough-to-singe-flesh-upon-contact
member of the cognoscenti c/should expect to find included among the impeccably-edited
roster of a journal esteemed as such/such as this…

Nonetheless, not unlike the dry ice to which I alluded a mere skip backwards o’er single perioddical: that’s a
scavenger hunt I’ll leave for you & your ducats to embark upon, darlin’

G E T ± S O M E

 

[though as an ápertif, an excerpt of my story]:

As the adage goes, ‘A Don’t Is A Delicious Invitation To Do.’  In the sexual practice known as “caking,” it’s particularly true.

I can’t take credit for coming up with this deviation of the old in and out, though unlike the lot of other subversive acts referred to as the stuff of urban legend—the Dirty Sanchez, Blumpkin, Cleveland Steamer, Chili Dog, et al—I’m honored to say I can vouch for its point of origin, and am a mere one degree of separation from its source.

“Caking” came about during the darkest days of that carb-counting craze when solo patties of beef were the new burger, and a demeanor bitter as Susan Atkins was the new black. It was socially acceptable to have breath that smelled like a fresh slaughter, so long as we weren’t seen consuming anything in a public setting that bore even the faintest traces of Evil Incarnate: refined sugar.

 

:: yes bitches, shit gets good up in thurr ::

However!
THIS IS NOT OVER YET

Royal Proclamation Number Two:
(not only/but also)

Baby, I’ve Got Some More Good Word For You…

From the publishing house, social network & international non-profit, Little Episodes—an organization that “promotes the arts as a therapeutic tool & platform to incite empathy and understanding”—comes the anthology Brainstorms


© Little Episodes Publishing, 2010 • ISBN 978-0-9565003-1-1 • Edited by Fawn Neün

“featuring work by Melvin BurgessTodd SwiftSadie Frost, Nina Antonia & Clint Catalyst, Brainstorms is the second volume in the ‘Expression of Depression’ series, a collection of poetry & short fiction from established & emerging talent.”

[from Little Episodes founder Lucie Barât]:

“The launch of our second anthology is a statement of intent. We aim to de-stigmatise depression and promote compassion & understanding rather than fear and embarrassment. The opportunity to create and subsequently publish art will give people a sense of well-being which could aid in their recovery.”

&
[from the printed matter]
an excerpt from my short story “Breaking Up With Tina”:

Whenever I hear recovery folks recite the slogan that their ‘worst day sober is still better than [their] best day using, ‘ I can’t help but feel my eyes rolling.  For that I have four words: They Needed Another Dealer.

Oh!  & H-e-ey Old-Schoolers, spot check how that paragraph comes to a Grinding Halt:

…And in the words of The Cure’s vocalist, Robert Smith, the further I got from the things I care about, the less I cared about how much further away I got.

MMM-HMMM,
G E T ± YOURS

order now

H E R E :: via ::  H E R E

&
peek at the back flap*
down…

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Review of Cottonmouth Kisses — Bizarre Magazine (UK)

April 2001


[ Many thanks to Cathi Unsworth
and, of course, to Bizarre magazine ! ]

»Read More

Cottonmouth Kisses Review — Lambda Book Report

[ April 2001 : Archived ]


Props, Ever in Order
to both Richard Davis and LBR, a publication through the Lambda Literary Foundation !

»Read More

Goth Is Dead ; Long Live Goth : Remembrances Of A New-Grave Past In San Francisco

Please Click To Enlarge The Following Archived Text / Images

San Francisco Bay Guardian, SFBG

Goth, House of Usher, nightclub, San Francisco

Goth, House of Usher, nightclub

[ CON’T, BENEATH THE CUT ]

»Read More