Thursday, December 27, 2012
Gangnam Girl in SLOW MOTION
We're not sure if this is Gangnam Style or Swan Lake. For some reason those cats at Gifninja messed up the speed. But it's my first attempt at a gif and at least IT MOVES!
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Jesus Christ! There he is again!
After posting about the "restoration" of that Jesus painting, the one that became a worldwide sensation and led to a boom in tourism as well as numerous lawsuits, I got to thinking. I got to thinking about one of those things. I got to thinking about one of those things I haven't thought about for a long, long time.
What do you call those, you know? - those images, usually religious, but not always religious, and there's two of them and they flash back and forth? I mean, two images that appear on the same, what, thingie, not paper or cardboard like a photo but a sort of plastic thing. It's like a photo with a double image, except it's not. What's the NAME of those things, if they have a name?
It's hard to find them now, but as a kid they were ubiquitous and represented an extremely refined form of technology. You could even get a ring with Jesus on the cross flashing back and forth with the Last Supper. The material was sort of - how do I describe it? Thick and plastic-y, sort of rough with little lines running across it. It had a weird texture. The last time I saw any of these was 15 years ago in a little Quebec town called St. Anne de Beaupre, a place with a beautiful cathedral which vibrated with everyday mysticism. The gift store had mostly tacky things in it, but I still have a hand-carved wooden pendant of a descending dove which only cost about $2.
Maybe this is all that's left of that Crackerjack-box miracle of my childhood: images of Jesus that sort-of move, usually in a wiggly or jerky way. You can't wear them like a ring, and most people think of them as pretty ridiculous.
Cynical though I may be, and I am plenty cynical sometimes, some part of me has never let go of the dizzying wonder of the Nazarene. He is a mystery I cannot begin to fathom. Attempts to debunk or mock or make-look-stupid are too easy. Jesus represents the awful vulnerability we all share at the core. Jesus bids us shine with a pure, clear light.
Jesus may have not so much walked on water as hopped, or maybe slid if the water was frozen. But never mind the manner of locomotion. What disturbs me about this one is how he suddenly disappears, just as I am starting to warm up to him. Too true.
This one reminds me of my last migraine: you just think it's never going to end.
Something about this one, though. . . It's supposed to be a gif and rippling away, but so far it isn't doing very much. But this Jesus is nice-looking and has tender, compelling eyes. They look blue and that isn't very likely, but we'll forgive that. I might sit down and talk to this Jesus if he were only real.
Was there a Jesus after all, or did we just wish or will him into being? A thousand layers of pretentiousness, cruelty, fear, false worship, hypocrisy, suffocating ritual, sexual abuse and shameful coverup, and all those things that sicken me unto my soul, have covered the truth over, and over, and over, encapsulating it as if it were a disease, and obscuring what may or may not have been there to begin with. A vast civilization has been built up, a massive edifice founded on a possible myth, a good story that we are pretty sure never even happened.
CHRIST! Look what they've done to this painting!
‘Good deed’ by rogue restoration pensioner ruins 19th-century Spanish fresco
Masterpiece no more: the alterations to Elias Garcia Martinez's Ecce Homo were made by an elderly Spanish woman trying to do a good deed.
But after a botched restoration attempt by a well-meaning DIY pensioner, Elias Garcia Martinez’s 19th-century masterpiece looks more like a child’s finger-painting.
The unauthorized alterations were made by a Spanish woman in her 80s who had apparently grown upset over the worsening state of the painting.
The leftmost image is how the painting looked two years ago; the middle image is how it looked in July, when it was photographed for a catalogue of regional religious art. The image on right is how it looked on Aug. 6, when the Centro de Estudios Borjanos, a local cultural organisation, went to check on it after receiving a donation for its restoration.
A spokesman from the Centre said: “The value of the original work was not very high but it was more of a sentimental value.” It was painted by Elias Garcia Martinez who is the father of two well known local artists and the family had made a donation towards its preservation.
“The lady, who is in her 80s, acted without authorisation from anyone.
“The church is always open because many people visit and although there is a guard, no one realised what the old woman was doing until she had finished,” the spokesman said.
The woman contacted Juan Maria Ojeda, the city councillor in charge of cultural affairs, after recognizing her error. Ojeda says that art historians are now discussing if the painting can be saved.
“I think she had good intentions. Next week she will meet with a repairer and explain what kind of materials she used,” Mr Ojeda said. ”If we can’t fix it, we will probably cover the wall with a photo of the painting.”
I now feel a whole lot better about my own non-existent artistic skills.
But I will say this: it's the most unusual iconic depiction of Jesus I've ever seen, beating even those burnt-grilled-cheese varieties that sell on eBay for a zillion dollars.
I kept looking at this face, and it dern-toonderin'-well reminded me of something, or someone, but at first I just couldn't figure out what.
Surely Jesus resembles, if ever so vaguely, Alice the Goon from the old Popeye series.
No?
Alice just isn't brown and smeary enough. How about a botched gingerbread man?
There's a small resemblance about the mouth, but it's not quite smooshy enough.
Chocolate chip? I think there must be a special stamp for these things. This one has a delightful Shroud of Turin aspect, but it doesn't quite match Mr. Ecce.
Flip and tilt him, and he looks alarmingly like Bob Dylan in his Self Portrait days.
It's weird how many resemblances you spot when you stare at this monstrosity long enough Such as. . .
"I am not an animal! I am just a bad restoration!"
Scary.
But what's this? It's Homo Erectus! His hair (fur?) doesn't quite cqpture the Inuit-fur-hood-with-chin-strap-effect, and to tell you the truth I think he's more evolved than Cookie Face with the smarmed mouth. But still. . .
Ecce Homo Erectus? I think it might fly.
Monday, December 24, 2012
Noel: music and images for Christmas
Whom we call Mary, will we ever know?
We have turned the girl bearing down in a freezing barn
hiding her bastard child in terror of death
to someone carved of soap, made cloud or heaven.
Poor Mary. We have robbed you of you.
This edifice, this war! This junkyard of faith!
Like molten lead in water
this phosphorescent upflash
of livid flame
We have this idea we're married to
that men came,
three, though we don't know that,
that they had money and power, though we don't know that,
That they knelt and adored
but we don't know that either
the story has hung itself around us
like crepe paper
This is Jesus, though hidden.
Jesu ben Yusef
circumcized, a Jew.
We cannot look at him, do not look upon him,
You will burn your eyes.
We know no good has ever come from Nazareth.
This is what we find on the sidewalk
Don't go there don't go outside
Go inside the church and stay there
Portal: walk along the street
where Jesus was, where Jesus was.
Who was Jesus, what, an idea?
A reigning prince, a pretender?
I think he was a dream
I think he was a dream
a wish, a desire, a scramble for meaning
in the small square hole of our lives.
For all that, there lives a desperate sort of grace
and we must reach for it
or not go on.
Stay out of our church, go in this one,
be run out of that one,
find the True Church, the one true religion
inside your own brain.
For all that, there is this repeating, not endless, just seeming so,
for surely it will end
before we know it.
Will the end be the same,
faith or unfaith,
knowing or not knowing?
Why must hope be born again
at the very desolation of the year
and customs dragged out
dusted off
as if they make a difference to the world?
Like chess-pieces, we hold and handle
the smooth turquoise, the cracked cool finish
in a need to comprehend the vast mystery
in
the dailiness and boredom
the ascendance
the rhapsody of light
the scent of winter trees
sounds of owls
we live for this, die for it
this stubborn insistence of wonder
this god with a human heart
This one's for Matt: a Merry Very Crispness
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Nah. . . it must be a fake.
This has to be the video of the week. Though it's a little hard to see, after falling down like bowling pins, all the cows immediately get up again, almost in unison. Herd animals, I guess. My question is: does the truck hit somebody at .12? SOMETHING gets in the way of the truck which swerves to avoid it, but is it a person? For a minute I thought it was a stray cow.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Syrup suckers
$18M Quebec
maple syrup heist leads to arrests
5 more suspects
sought by investigatorsCBC News
Police are
looking for five other people in connection to last summer's heist. (CBC)
An investigation into a massive maple syrup theft from a Quebec warehouse last summer has led to the arrest of three people, who are due to face charges in court today.
Between August 2011 and July 2012, thieves got away with 9,600 barrels of maple syrup worth approximately $18 million from a warehouse in Saint-Louis-de-Blandford, about 95 kilometres southwest of Quebec City.
Richard Vallières, 34, of Loretteville and Avik Caron, 39, of Saint-Wenceslas, along with a third person arrested without a warrant face charges of theft, conspiracy, handling stolen goods and fraud.
Syrup Suckers (a
seasonal meditation)
They have no holiday
spirit
these men
(or at least we kind of hope
they’re men
though
we're not sure about that
Avik Caron character
Canadian name
but I’d be shocked if he was a she
for what sort of woman
would suck up
so much forbidden fluid?)
and we don’t even know
for sure
how they sucked it up, did they use a wet-dry vac
an underground pipeline
or did they just plain
cart it away
One o’ dese guys is from
Saint-Wenceslas
and truly, I resent the
implications
of that name
at this festive time of
year
The maple syrup heist
has far-reaching ramifications,
as it looks like Santa’s
pancake breakfasts
will be a little on the dry side
with only Aunt Jemima’s
“no sugar added”
as a soulless substitute
Just imagine
After all the hard work
of tappin’ them trees
Hangin’ up tin buckets,
you know the ones
Making them give up
their precious sap
Drip by drip by drip
Then boiling it for
about a million hours
Then putting it up in
dem-dar vats
(or whatever they are,
barrels I think)
then just having them
cart it off like that
as if it was nothing
Maple syrup is a symbol of our home and native land
(one little, two little, three Canadians)
so we can't just let it all go like that
about a billion barrels
smuggled into Thailand or something
I mean that really bad part
We owe the world our syrup
We are a misunderstood nation
and who was it who said Canadians
are just a bunch of
sapsuckers
(or was it syrup suckers?)
It was one-o-dem
wiseacre American ignorami
who know nothing about
such matters
and never mind that
stuff they make in Vermont
but it looks like that
stuff they make in Vermont
is going to be just
about it for the world supply
until those guys from
Wenceslas strike again
tipping the golden
barrels of the world
into their filthy
coffers
Fie on them, fie
It’s the most wonderful
time of the year
and it’s no time to be
sucking up all our syrup
leaving us parched
pancakes and dessicated waffles
and none-o-dem-dar
cookies shaped like a leaf, you know,
them
them
what’s got that maple
stuff inside.
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