Tag Archives: Amanda Palmer

Link Dump: #14

Since Ashley insisted that I couldn’t choose kitty pictures anymore, the above image of Scar and the obnoxiously playful Simba is her pick. And a great pick it is! Scar is a deliciously, mincingly evil villain, probably more charismatic than Claudius, the Shakespearean usurper on whom he’s based. And of course that’s all because of Jeremy Irons, whose voice trumps any hackneyed dialogue or fickle hyenas. When cartoon Jeremy Irons says “Jump!”, you ask, “How high?” With that, I give you this week’s links.

  • Courtesy of Mary Ray of The Bewitched, I found out about this awesome 4th Amendment apparel – for when you want to stick it to the (TSA) man in writing.
  • Amanda Palmer’s vulva is NSFW art!
  • Here’s another awesome Tumblr blog called Screen Goddesses.
  • Apparently all (or at least most) of the planets have been featured in sci-fi literature. The more you know!
  • Robert C. Cumbow wrote an essay about one of Hitchcock’s greatest, Vertigo (1958). Give it a read; it’s very sharp.
  • From The Sheila Variations, here’s a piece about Ann Savage in Detour, easily one of the greatest femmes fatales ever.
  • Imogen Smith wrote a long, fantastic essay about Pre-Code movies, complete with Joan Blondell in a bathtub.
  • Dan Callahan attacked the “Rich Girl Cinema” of Sofia Coppola and Lena Dunham in Slant; then Cinetrix fired back by saying, “I enjoy being a girl.”
  • An inventive YouTube user mashed up Edgar Wright’s first three films into one awesome trailer. How can one director pack in that much pure awesome?
  • As part of the drive to raise Vincent Price awareness, a really cool blogger & graphic designer named Eric Slager made this snazzy poster of Price’s face adorned with the titles of his many films. (Via Classic-Horror.com.)
  • Sight & Sound announces its critical favorites for 2010! Unsurprisingly, The Social Network and Uncle Boonmee top the list. (Pssst: I’ll have some 2010 film lists of my own in the near future.)

Alas, we’ve had no astoundingly bizarre search terms as of late (unless you count more requests for Simpsons porn). Someone searched for “tom waits poster,” for which Ashley recommends this. (Tom Waits is lovably grizzled and makes excellent poster fodder.) Another searched for “witch burning in movies,” for which I offer the spellbinding, terrifying witch-burning sequence in the middle of Bergman’s The Seventh Seal (1958). And finally, “hanged cat film.” That’s no good. In keeping with our feline blog name, we’re launching a campaign against cat violence here. Seriously, people: end the kitty bloodshed. Meow.

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Link Dump: #6

Halloween’s getting closer every day! Aren’t you excited?? Can’t you feel the tangible excitement in the air?! I know I can. But alas, we’ve still got a month and a half, so in the meantime, here’s some reading material with the PGG stamp of approval. Also, tune in next week as we bring you The Fifth Element, The White Ribbon, Julianne Moore, and more.

  • The one and only Paracinema Magazine is releasing their 10th issue, and it’s available to pre-order for the low, low price of $7. Added incentive: you can read my short piece on the exploitation film Sex Madness. What are you waiting for? Go, pre-order, and support high-quality film writing! Also, congratulations to the Paracinema crew on 10 great issues.
  • Elli Agg, a Greek fan of Amanda Palmer, posted this amazing song called “Dear AFP” on YouTube. She’s so cute, talented, and inspiring; you owe it to yourself to listen.
  • Via the Found Footage Festival, here’s a hilariously nightmarish PSA made by an insurance company. I have a strange affinity for bizarre PSAs, as I’ve demonstrated in the past, and this is a pretty great one, with its laughably over-the-top accidents.
  • Having followed it since December ’09, this week I won The Film Experience’s movie identification game “First and Last” twice in a row! My satisfaction in winning is only matched by the pettiness of my achievement.
  • This ad for “Great Old Spice” body wash is both professional-looking and full of lolz. Of course, I’m a sucker for all things Cthulhu, but seriously: they worked in so many Lovecraft references.
  • John Carpenter made another movie! The Ward, his first since 2001’s widely panned Ghosts of Mars, debuted at TIFF earlier this week, and MUBI has the scoop on its critical reception. Consensus so far is that it’s not Halloween great, but it’s solidly good.
  • Want more classic Carpenter? Radiator Heaven is hosting John Carpenter Week from October 3-9 in honor of the maestro’s revived career. I’ll probably be writing something for it too. (Like so much else, it will involve Lovecraft.)
  • Whether you love her or hate her, you can’t argue with the power and passion of Lady Gaga’s “Repeal Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” crusade. Go her! Talk about having a positive impact on the nation.

And now that you’ve read our online recommendations, here are our weirdest, ickiest, WTFest search terms from the previous week, most of which contain the word “pussy”:

  • We’ve got some pussy abuse, like “why do women like doing dog food in puss” and “fire extinguisher in pussy.” Please, no. Dog food and fire extinguishers have their purposes, and they do not involve pussies.
  • Oddly enough, we had two searches for Yakov Smirnov jokes, those being “in soviet russia leg breaks you” and “in russia bread eats you.” Maybe they were looking for this?
  • FYI: “please rape me style clothing” is not a productive search. There is no such style of clothing.
  • I suspect that the person looking for “excited cock and wild pussy have cartoon” may have been after this very old, very NSFW cartoon
  • And finally, nothing could beat the raw strangeness of “agatha christie books + bottle in vagina.” Don’t explain it to me. I just don’t want to know.

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Link Dump: #2

This is an old picture of one of my family black cats, the creatively named “Mama Cat.” (Sometimes “Mother Cat”; my sister came up with “Snowball,” but it hasn’t stuck.) Because yes, every link dump is going to have a picture of a kitty. What do you expect? This is Pussy Goes Grrr, after all. That said, upward/onward to this week’s Internet goodies:

  • Tommy Wiseau, the thickly accented director behind the cult film The Room, has been capitalizing on his 15 minutes of ironic fame! First there was the recent trailer for his upcoming project The House That Drips Blood on Alex (cue the “WTF?”); now, with the help of noted bad advice haven AskMen.com, he’s released his Top 10: Tips For Making A Sex Tape. It must be read to be believed.
  • The AV Club’s great Scenic Routes feature covers one of my new favorite movies, Bigger Than Life. That’s right, Nicholas Ray predicted Glenn Beck.
  • The awesome folks over at Dead Homer Society recently talked about the flaws of “Homer’s Enemy” and its overall place in Simpsons history. They hit on several points I missed in my recent analysis, and as a bonus, their piece prompted a letter from Simpsons writer Bill Oakley! It’s a fascinating back-and-forth, and they make some very perceptive arguments, so go over and read it!
  • Amanda Palmer as the emcee in Cabaret! Even ze orchestra is beautiful.
  • Our friends at Happy Postmodernists were commented on by “a kind of legit author.” Fuck yeah.
  • And possibly my new favorite tumblr, FUCK YEAH GIRLS WITH SHORT HAIR.

Ashley adds:

And, as your reward for reading (and hopefully visiting some of) these links, here’s the week’s best search terms used to find this blog: “naked tricycle,” “mt olympus pussy,” “gore & gross shit,” and that eternal question, “is grrr a sexy response to a woman”? I can only say that it depends on the context. Have a good great weekend, all.

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Reading Neil Gaiman and enduring summer

So, I am back in Minnesota. Ashley and I are separate once more. Blogging may become more frequent, mainly because there’s so damn little else to do. And of course there’s still a lot to talk about – everything to talk about, that is. Ashley’s Internet still isn’t working, which is utter bullshit. Right now, there’s not a whole lot that feels very comforting or reassuring. In fact, I would go so far as to say we live in an inconvenient, uncomfortable, impersonal, unfeeling, and generally hostile world. And more evidence is added to the heap each and every day, unless you’re having some peculiar string of good luck.

It seems so far like every single part of life is a crossroads, splintering months or days into times when you can go in one of many directions, seeking out the lesser evil. I feel so consumed with tedium. I guess I just want to go forward and embrace what pleasant things life has to offer. What was I remarking about to myself earlier today? It’s hard to decide that what you care about in life is art, when that’s not what the rest of the world cares about, and they’re going to try to force you to stop caring by starving you to death if you don’t devote parts of your life to what you consider less meaningful. Like slaving at some pointless task that just happens to exist, quite possibly for inane reasons, and which someone is willing to pay you money to do. It’s so Sisyphean. Desperation takes hold.

I feel like I should talk or think a little about culture. Beautiful culture, able to carry me away from the gloom and heat of everyday life. Thank God for it. I haven’t yet been able to watch many movies, for one reason or another, but during my depressing bus ride back here, I did finish Neil Gaiman’s Fragile Things. I’ve had Gaiman on my mind occasionally, it seems, in recent weeks – after all, he’s dating Amanda Palmer, he wrote the stories for the Who Killed Amanda Palmer book, I’m halfway through his Sandman series, etc., etc. Gaiman is just a great (in all senses of the word) creative presence in the world today.

As for the WKAP book, it’s a very pretty multimedia explosion: all these photographs, from all over, all with Amanda Palmer, and she’s (almost) always dead. Often we’re left to wonder who killed her and why (the last page mentions that Gaiman himself is serving 20 to life in Sing Sing for her murder); sometimes the stories scattered throughout give hints, or more, as with the picture that shows AFP lying on a hillside, surrounded by groceries, with a typewriter on her head (one of my personal favorites). Some of the pictures are deeply creepy, such as the image of Amanda’s corpse with her eyes painted over her shut eyelids, accompanied by a villanelle that goes “We dine together every night…”

© Amanda Palmer

© Amanda Palmer

So in the end, what to make of the book? It’s a whimsically morbid little achievement, blending photography, short stories, poetry, and even music (the album lyrics are interspersed throughout); it’s certainly perfect for anyone who hasn’t yet had enough of Amanda Palmer and her death. I’m sure Ashley will have more to say about the book once her Internet starts working again. And, of course, the amount of nude photos here makes it a hardened necrophiliac’s wet dream. But I’m kidding. It’s equally sexy for those of us who prefer the living. (Incidentally, I happened upon this interesting review of a Q&A featuring Amanda and Neil.)

Ashley's Murky Turkey - appropriate for the occasion

Gaiman’s Fragile Things, meanwhile, was about as exciting a way as there is to spend a 30-hour bus ride. Makes me wish I’d had a novel or two of his, as well. The collection jumps all over the place: poems both humorous and sublime; stories about love and loss; and some very chilling horror. The best, I’d say, example of the latter was “Feeders and Eaters,” which is hard to summarize, except to say that it kept me in a very creeped-out state of suspense until just about the last few lines. Gaiman claims in the introduction that it was inspired by a nightmare, and I’d go so far as to say it’s probably inspired a few nightmares itself. My other favorite story would have to be “Keepsakes and Treasures,” all about an enterprising psychopath who calls himself Smith and his boss, the fabulously wealthy pederast Mr. Alice.

More than anything, Gaiman’s fiction makes me want to write, as it trades so heavily on the act of storytelling itself; his poem “Locks” repeats what Gaiman calls the closest thing to a credo he has – “We owe it to each other to tell stories” – and it’s this passion for spinning a yarn, creating fiction, bequeathing some nonexistent occurrences to posterity, this is what strikes me most about these stories and what they give to me (as, after all, my Digital Storytelling instructor Rachel Raimist said endlessly: a story is a gift). As I recall, in Sandman, Dream is repeatedly described as the lord of stories, and his realm even contains a library with all the stories never written, such as Alice’s Journey Behind the Moon. And in his own way, it looks, Gaiman is himself a lord of stories, a kind of meta-storyteller examining and reappraising the value of everything from the Alice books to Narnia, Goldilocks, and Sherlock Holmes. I’ve always rather wanted to tell stories, and this is a desire that reading Fragile Things has rekindled. So thank God for this multitalented inspiration who, unsurprisingly, last I heard resides around the Twin Cities.

I guess I’ll go now. I’ll eat a little, try to finish Carl Theodor Dreyer’s Gertrud and start something else. Maybe read, maybe write. These are desperate days. So I’ll probably spend a lot of them at the library.

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