Cottonmouth Kissed Cassettes — Eye Doublecross Release and Give-Away!

Some of you may recall my excitement over “Cø††øN,” a track “influenced by Cottonmouth Kisses”
that the low-fi sigil-slingers known as I†† [eye doublecross] conjured not long ago

Well, that dark dirge — along with seven other deep-synth threnodies — is now available on
the  l†† / Skitter Split Cassette, via ClanDestine Records

This release is limited to 75 copies, so if you’re interested?
Wouldn’t be wise to nap on this one, chap . . .

And hey — of the 75 copies, subtract a digit :
from the comments left between now and January 31,
I’ll choose a name at random. Yes, it’s that time again : reader give-away!
[So uh, make sure to provide a valid email address . . . Please, that is. And thanks]

I†† create dopamine-drenched spectral [anti]pop, nightmare lullabies rife with occult symbolism
and mysteries that unfold themselves with each listen.

Said another way?
Click the links. Leave a comment.  GET SOME

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So. Damn. Deadly. Cute…

I’m vergin’ on a

HAUTE

HAUTE

HAUTE  ATTACK!

With special thanks to Nixon Sixx for casting such an adorable spokesmodel

in this, THE SEVENTH PRIZE RIBBON among

the JARED GOLD/CLINT CATALYST CO-BRANDED MERCHANDISE—

a ‘site exclusive’ for the illustrious

[dot] com

†

Matter of fact, the HMacabre skeleton crew has assembled an on-line boutique

for the erudite enthusiast of shadowed fineries who’s privy to the fact that

one need not spend a million bucks to look like it.

However!

Before my A.D.D.-addled ass has a chance to bifurcate off into scatter-shot territory,

I need to provide the following info —of—

:: where to click :: (HERE!) :: & claim :: First Place as a Hauttie! ::

†

O.K., then Next:

Look upon a few shop highlights for the darkly inclined, such as

the obscenely affordable black smoke leggings,

†

as well as

another collaborative effort with

the gents and ¢ommon ¢ent$ in mind…

(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!” )

Mmmm-hrmmm. Right.

All the same, THIS FINE ITEM

is most right-on, indeed!

†

The offspring of joined forces: Haute Macabre with Cyberoptix

(a company worthy its own blog post, truth be told…)

:: rad ties & cravats ::

paired with retinal candy such as the following

drool-worthy [OOPS]  impeccable display of DNA at its finest?

†

—ahem!—

Well, since I’m “already here,” so to speak,

I figured I might as well share…

Since, you know: there’s a more-than-decent chance I’ll be ogling their URL

frequently

More.Hot.Rivet-Heads.&.Goth.Guys,Plz!

Hrmm. Did you guys hear something?

†

But of course!

Furtive whispers from Thee Cult Ov Thee Fashion-Forward

state the obvious

(That is—for any devotee of Haute Macabre or mine owne Dot Com):

BAM!   Be it

xx or xy,

THIS. IS. UNISEXY.

†

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Two Bombshells With Cobalt-Colored Hair

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,

Massive thanks to graphics whiz Joanna Carr!

Till Later—

x o x o x

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The Consumer As ‘Spokesmodel’…(& I’m Lovin’ It!)

There’s a section on my beast of a MySpazz page where, for quite some time now, I’ve been posting a “Reader of the Week”: images of folks being as somber or silly as they want, so long as they follow two rudimentary guidelines: 1) keep it PG-13, regardless if the subject matter veers toward “X Rated-Adjacent” territory and 2) incorporate one of my published works (Cottonmouth Kisses and/or Pills, Thrills, Chills and Heartache), ancient relics/self-published chapbooks, an anthology in which a story of mine appears…or, in one instance, photographs of me that were published in…

:: Well, You.Get.It ::

Of the seventy-something thus far, I’ve featured a spectrum that spans from bondage bunnies to strategically-placed texts “about a comma short of indecent exposure”; from high drama in high heels to low-and-deliberately-difficult-to-find positioning of the aforementioned. (A Veritable “Where’s Waldo: Catalyzed,”
if you will…)

When the collection hits the 101 mark,
I plan on posting my favorites from the batch as an archive of Greatest Hits.

Until that time, however? I’m really digging on the pictures submitted of peeps sporting their

Jared Gold/Clint Catalyst PRIZE RIBBONS !

The shot above is from the gorgeous

Ginny Guzman ,

a photographer based here in L.A., though I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting her yet…

However, up next?  Someone  with whom I have shared hijinx—as well as the bathroom at Fred 62 *(winkage)*—is my favorite Russian Cosmonomad/”Techno Renaissance Internet Goddess Extraordinaire” [Lou O'Bedlam]:

Zoetica Ebb

Werkin’ the re-vamped CC Tarot Card Destroyer Tee in CORRECTNESS at the brink of overdose…

:: for more hot shots of Zo, sans specs? :: click to reveal what’s tucked away “beneath the click!” ::

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Zoetica Ebb Is A Hedonist. :: (…Isn’t Everyone?) ::

MAXIMIZE YOUR RETAIL BLISS, WITH THIS:

THE FIFTH PRIZE RIBBON among

the JARED GOLD/CLINT CATALYST CO-BRANDED MERCHANDISE…

hedonist! |ˈhidnəst| |ˈhidənəst| noun

a derivative of: hedonism |ˈhēdnˌizəm|

the pursuit of pleasure; sensual self-indulgence.
† the ethical theory that pleasure (in the sense of the satisfaction of desires) is the highest good †

Leave the scarlet letter for Miss Hester Prynne. THIS is a title to profess…

:: CLICK HERE TO GET YOURS NOW! ::

as modeled by
Artist/Writer/Photographer/Style Technician/Russian Cosmonomad and

Coilhouse magazine & blog Co-Founder,

Zoetica Ebb ♥

Who—among her many other accolades—ranked #3 on

G4′s “Hottest Women Of The Web”(!)

More “Images Conducive Of Pleasure” Are Tucked
Beneath the Jump

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Rad Swag, Cackles, “Polar Express”/”Dead Eyes Opened” That Really Put The SCARE In Scarecrow… Sounds Like A Party To Me!

Apparently, I’ve Got This ‘Thing’ For
Public Humiliation…

Well, that and the fact a friend of mine edited a new clip for me to post on The ‘Tubes that might very well be (no, I can’t believe I’m saying this, either) too ‘dark.’

Seriously?  SERIOUSLY.

Sheet left me in need of some Dorkus Maximus action
on
the
A.S.A.P. !

That’s why when I spotted this nifty little Widget celebrating the 70th anniversary of OZ? Whelp, if you’ve been ’round these parts of the Interwebz very much in the last 6 months, then you should already know (cough! PHOTO ALBUM cough!) I’ve got my claws way on up in that old-school biz with The Wiz…

(hack!  BLOG ARCHIVES, FASHION cough!)

Besides, what better way to whip out the ROFL-copter for a ride than by transforming myself into a brainless, cross-eyed ol’ Crow? (No disrespect to the celluloid masterpiece; I’m just a tad sore because I thought I’d get to morph into the Wicked Witch of the– oh wait. Scratch that. I guess it wouldn’t be much of a stretch for me, hrmm?)

At any rate, here’s what went down when I “got OZzy with it”:

Since the “CC-As-Crosseyed-Scarecrow” Show seems a bit persnickety, here’s a back-up:

Swept Away In A Cyclone…There’s No Place Like (Home?)

For CONTEST INFORMATION (& Other Coolness, Natch)—      Take a jump “BENEATH THE CUT!”

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Whimsicle Social Media Fuckery (What’s.The.Deal?Who’s.For.Real? ☀ MySpace ☀IN YOUR FACE!)

for “my best friends I’ve never met”:

“I just wanted to let you know that this is like, the only me… “

“O.K., I don’t photoshop my pictures. I’m just pretty, and you’re probably really ugly.”

⇓

:: Stop Stealing My Pictures! ::

⇑

*(Had to share these with you guys because
Shit is br00t4l! And uh, yeah…the alliterative name?
Published under it “way before MySpace.”
K4′s trademark symbol is a nice touch touch though, right?)

✮ ✬ ✮

The first clip is by Andrew Bravener;

The second? EffSwap.

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One Month. An Amtrak Train. First Class Cabins, and A Slew of Renegades…

Sound like a challenge you might be into?

“Pained And Painted” — New Video Post

Spoken Word by Clint Catalyst,

Visual Manipulations/Aural Fixations by Nicholas Wolfkind

featuring portrayals by
Audrey Kitching
Lorraine Caley
Kaiden Blake
Kat Lee
Hilary Goldberg
& CCx

Hair Artistry by the Almighty Irene Urias of HairroinSalon.com

Shiny Latex Yumminess by Syren.com ♥ (COVET…LOVE.IT) ♥

(accompanying text available on The ‘Tubes, if interested—
Clint Catalyst’s Channel; Click “More Info”)

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Snip, Clip, Scan… It’s “Show & Tell” for the 21st Century

O.K., before I have to dial whine-one-one for the waaaahmbulance, please allow me to throw down a disclaimer in hopes that I’ll spare even a single set of phalanges out there clacking terse comments about how I “really need to post this type of information while issues are still on the newsstands…” [ad nauseum, ad nauseum; cue vomitorium]

‘Cause hey—guess what?

I really need to post this shit in a more expeditious manner, man.

Just so happens that–ahem–I might very well have a few issues of my own to deal with. (One of which is the preposition by which the previous sentence just ended, dangling like an unworn pair of silver Les Chiffoniers’ leggings aching for the latest Girl of the Moment to slide into them before dashing out to paint the town bloodshot. It’s as inherent a pairing as Edie Segwick hopped-up on a fistful of whites and having her coiff spray painted Just For The F Of It while donning Balenciaga originials. What other lack of logic explains the perfect sense it makes to purchase what’s essentially a thick pair of pantyhose with a thousand dollar price tag? Not really…but REALLY, babes.)

But oh, that’s but a footnote of damage from a former version of myself in which I worked as a technical writer. A footnote among essays within archives buried deep inside some virtual boneyard we’ll call The Chronicles of the Clintasaurus and opt to visit some other time just dust our hands of it.

.kthanxbai.

At least all this self-aggrandizing material is contained within a single post. Couldn’t give two turds about what ‘they’ might have said about me?

Scroll on; scroll on!

“Does Not Exist.”

What does exist, nonetheless, on the other acrylic claw:

Recent media in which I appear–sometimes but a smidgen; luckier instances full effing-on.

For instance, the following pic and mention in H Magazine is a case of what might be deemed “peripheral press.” Or, to utilize the vernacular of savvy SoCal realtors in sensible shoes: an “adjacent feature.”

And insofar as my image—the look I ‘turned out’* for bits and pieces of my soul to be sacrificed via Glenn’s manipulation of the bulky/beautiful Polaroid Big Shot favored by Warhol himself?

*’turned out’ by no means appropriating cred as if this was my own creation! Au contraire, it was the make-up of Stacey Humell; the cut/color/extensions of scissormeister Irene Urias of Hairroin, Hollywood’s hottest salon (www.hairroinsalon.com), and–excluding the Westwood brooch–another cerebellum-melding, history-making, custom couture creation by the genius Jared Gold

(moving right along…)

Big deal if I’m “giving away too many of my secrets” by sharing this delicious little inside joke—it friggin’ slaughters me how many people took the ‘pomp and pout’ of the picture at face value. I mean, if I’m going to rock an outfit, hair and make-up that ostentatious… how could I not get “in character”?

What ELSE would I do? Smile like a politician and “compassionately” hold a stranger’s baby?

And in the meantime, reword “Let Them Eat Cake” into something more…inclusive…in tone?

yeahRIIIGHT.

It’s like this: one wink or nudge of the elbow during the Polaroid shoot, or Nhat Nguyen’s studio takes thereafter in which I “amped the prance” so high; by foppish standards it was even off-the-charts, or even a single word cluing in ‘The Children’ a la Interwebz? (No worries now: it’s been months… and while it’s a hasty generalization, yes: gnats have better attention spans than they do, for the most part.)

Let’s face the music, sweetcheeks:

Simply wouldn’ta worked.

Art versus Artifice // Appearance versus Reality // Truth Revealed Through a Guise // Everything Is “Real”—Though What Of It Is Lies?

So many motifs swirling around in my head like a majorette’s glitter-fringed baton at half-time…

Yet all of them beg the question, it seems:

Exactly who or what is this ‘Clint Catalyst’ supposed to be, anyway?

And why would it even matter if he (and I) weren’t among the ‘Lucky Ones’ in Flaunt magazine, issue 96?

I’ll tell ya what it was like when I spot-checked the (who cares if it’s a mere thumb-nail sized) pic, standing there, thumbing through the pricey pages in the Echo Park 7-11:

the second I saw my little powder blue top hat (by L.A.’s premier Gothic Cholita, Creepsuela Switchletto: “big ups” to my shiv-wieldin’ glamour sis), I felt a surge of validation sweep over me like the frost-bitten clouds fleeing a freezer behind me as some nameless faceless customer opened then sealed shut the door.

No doubt this earth-shattering, molar-splitting, life-changing moment is fraught with layers of meaning… but c’mon, isn’t everything? (Unless, of course, it’s deconstructed to the bloodless core of nothingness—but that’s so Small-Town-Liberal-Arts-School-Curriculum-For-30K+-A-Year-Of-Make-Believe, I’d rather just ‘keep it real’ and say

Mostest Massive thanks to Photographer Melissa Manning and Flaunt magazine!

Shit you nunca, y’all: that was wickedcool of you, and was “Really Saying Something…”

[Fun.Boy.Three.From.This.One.Here.]

Verbose? Hell yes. I conquer “tl;dr” pussywillows one paragraph at a time—deal with it, or head off for culturally-stimulating activities like an episode of “Cops” or a Budweiser-fueled swirly-go-’round-and-then-down on the Sunset Strip’s Mechanical Bull.

“I.D.G.I,” arseholians. (Said, of course, with the deepest affection…)

Besides: this is kind of like, my diary…yo?

All the same, there’s somethin’ I gotta tell you, though: the printwork I’m most stoked about as of late is a two-page editorial in the latest Lipstick Prophets catalog/magazine.

Here’s one of the images from the spread…

Copies are available through LipstickProphets.com for a scant 2 1/2 bones — and that’s with free shipping and handling, dearlings.

With the American economy in the shitter as it is, at least somebody’s followed my lead regarding “Other Humanitarian Acts That Require Little or No Effort.”

The Clint’s Notes version?

Have passport; will travel. ‘Handling’ is subjective terminology best discussed in lush, exotic locales—and, as with everything else in life, varies from individual to individual (all the while assured that we’re treated equally: It is, after all, the American Way!).

Air Kisses and Ass Kissing,

CC “Giving You” L.A.

in the best of

worst of

ways

(and vice-versa)