ripping off brand equity
This ad, “oohgle” is posted all over the tube and on sides of buses. It seemed too much of an obvious Google marketing hack of some sort. Like the mathematical problems Google’s posts on billboards for potential job candidates and aspiring geeks.
So, I go to check out “oohgle“. Low and behold Google (and Yahoo!), it’s a UK marketing company, Postercope, riffing ripping of your brand(s)! First with the obvious Google associations, then on the landing page itself (at least one of two or three), the text and page title are “Do you ooghle?”.
Clever? Hmm… maybe slightly with the “Out of home” of the “OOH”. Stupid? Yes, most definitely.
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a little taste of paradise…
Brixtonites are selling gallons and gallons of Obama Punch! That’s right the tagline for this super sweet and fruity nectar is “a little taste of paradise”. Respect.
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Los Angeles 1986-1987
Found this among hundreds of other loose photos and papers I’ve rediscovered the past few weeks. I took this photo somewhere in Hollywood around 1986 or ‘87.
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after nature
Going to see the After Nature show at the New Museum later.
Just heard the story of the New Musem founder, Marcia Tucker. Apparently Ms. Tucker was fired from her position as Curator of Painting and Sculpture at the Whitney from 1969-1977. As soon as the news came about she was being let go, Ms. Tucker said, “Fuck this, I’m going to start my own museum!” So the story goes…
Hell, yes!
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multi-generational mac lineup
Getting ready for a long-distance move and selling my mac collection. My, how it accumulates over the years 
Give me a shout out if you’re interested in any one of them — but they’d be happy to all stay together as a family!
In chronological order from left:
Mac SE/30
16 Mhz / 1MB drive
Mac G3
233mhz / 4GB drive
Powerbook G3 Series (Wallstreet II)
233Mhz
Dual battery/drive bays (with Zip drive!)
Last Powerbook to use the rainbow logo
PowerMac G4 Digital Audio Tower
733 Mhz
PowerMac G4 Dual Quickilver Tower
Dual-core 1Ghz
1 GB RAM / 120 GB drive
Powerbook G4
1.67 Ghz/ 2GB RAM
Last Powerbook before the Intel’s arrived
Mac G5
2.3 Ghz Dual-core
2 MB RAM/ 500 GB Drive
Apple Cinema 23″ Display
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Never happier
than to see Jesse Helms finally die. The ultra-conservative, hate-mongering, homophobic Senator from North Carolina, exited this world yesterday. Not a moment soon enough. The former Senator was divisive, racist, homophobic and was viewed as none other than, Satan himself in the eyes of artists across the US.
It was Helms who launched a cultural war against artists like Robert Mapplethorpe, performance artists Karen Finley, Tim Miller, John Fleck, and Holly Hughes (NEA-4) alongside hundreds of thousands of other artists across the country in the late 80s.
It didn’t stop with high profile artists.The war Jesse Helms waged also found its way into the fabric of everyday lives. It was during this period when I began at School of the Art Institute of Chicago (SAIC) where my school would find itself embroiled in both local and national controversies due to the climate he created.
First, student David Nelson’s “Mirth & Girth” painting of Chicago’s first black mayor, Harold Washington scandalously clad in women’s lingerie was removed from an exhibition by city aldermen.
The following year, my school paid witness to the flag controversy, an installation by “Dread” Scott Tyler requiring the visitor to walk across the American flag to share their opinions on the proper way to display the flag. This blew up into a “patriotic” battle of flag lovers, free speech groups and art fans.
If it were not for Jesse Helms, these culture wars would not have raged so wildly. If not for him, the divisiveness which has overtaken the country in the past 20 years may not have been so severe.
The poster above is by Robbie Conal, a political artist out of LA. I started following Conal’s work as it became ubiquitous on the streets of LA during the 80s when he was dealing withe Iran-Contra, Tammy Faye Baker, and a host of other fu subjects.
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twentynine palms 5 years on
After we postponed our trip to Tel Aviv and Istanbul, we decided to take a breather on the road. It was the last of our California road trips for a long while, so we decided to head southeast for some good hot weather in the Mojave.
Five years ago this Thanksgiving, we went to Joshua Tree and stayed in 29 Palms right next door. It was a brilliant trip, we loved the desert and late fall was no different. What the hell, we decide to return — not thinking too much about it. Just getting in the car and going.
Five years ago, you might never suspect that 29 Palms is home to the largest Marine base in the US. Five years ago, you might never think twice about any development, economy or real estate. This time around these attributes loomed larger than life.
We captured a bunch of photos of the trip. To be explicit, we had a ball running around the desert shooting the complicated signifiers crashing against the raw beauty of all the desolation that is the desert. The downtown area is a tiny strip of commercial property much like the images in the postcards above. Instead of super small-town USA, we encountered a strange blurring of military and civilian life. Add the new fact that 29 Palms has the most foreclosures in the US and well
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one of these scenes is not like the others
Yesterday we drove from Joshua Tree through Yucca Valley, the Wind Belt, Palm Springs, Pasadena, Burbank north to San Francisco, up Interstate 5. Tired of the flat central valley route, we decided to cross over onto highway 152 around 5pm. We cruised through beautiful mountains, heading west towards Gilroy, taking in all that our eyes could see.
It wasn't until we hit a fork in a road that something seemed a bit off. I noticed some traffic lining up in the opposite direction, facing back towards the central Valley. It seemed odd that a line of cars would be backed up on a two lane highway on a Sunday. Having spent the past 9 hours on the road, I let the nagging question dissipate as quickly as the cars in our rear-view mirror.
Five minutes, maybe ten, pass before we curve around the road to a line of four or so cars ahead of us. We see some smoke on the side of the road. All the cars are at a standstill, and people begin opening their doors to step out and see what's going on up ahead. I get out of our car, and walk a few car-lengths up towards the smoke. Immediately I see debris strewn all over the road, and the cab of a big rig engulfed in flames.
The road is populated with women and men attempting to get coverage on their cell phones. Cars ahead of ours begin to turn around and drive towards the way they came from. At this time, I see only spectators and assume survivors are being cared for, driven away by invisible ambulances. If we are to turn around, the traffic we are to encounter will hold us back several hours. I wonder if we can't clear the debris and move around the wreckage.
I wave to Joel to get out of the car. Irrationally, I am still questioning whether or not we should move through the debris or clean it up enough to let us and other cars pass. Joel leaves our car and walks towards me. As he does so his eyes widen. I am closer now, to the people, the helpers, the debris and the flames. My heard turns toward a voice across from the flames. A man is checking the pulse of another who is laying before him, motionless. "He's not breathing," is all the kneeling man says.
Suddenly, the fire takes on a life of its own. It gets angry, it makes noises, popping sounds and a woman screams at the top of her lungs to cars and people coming towards her "GET OUT OF HERE! THIS IS A FULL TANK OF GAS AND IS GOING TO BLOW UP!"
People scatter quickly, a woman crash-survivor hobbles on her good leg, arm across a stranger away from the scene. Flames increase, smoke billowing, Joel and I race back to our car where I pull the fastest u-turn ever and peel away, fearful of the coming explosion.
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