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The artist and writer Santiago Rusiñol was one of the founders of the Spanish “Modernista” movement. He and his colleagues, including the young Pablo Picasso, regularly met for lively discussions in a small Barcelona café. The figures populating the café in this painting, however, appear silent, solitary, and preoccupied with their own thoughts. The dull colors and enclosed space reinforce a sense of isolation. Explore this and other 19th-century interpretations of interiors in our New European Galleries. 

 “Interior of a Café,” 1892, by Santiago Rusiñol 

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oh super

How confident are you the results of the election will be accepted?

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never attribute to stupidity what is explicitly expressed as malice

the cruelty is the point of trumpism 

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My huckleberry friend...

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Georgia Coffee “Twin Peaks” Commercials

Written and directed by David Lynch | 1993

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icbm

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aren’t they all?

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i pity the poor bastard who has to cut that sizzle

What do teens like?!? Is it memes? Memes about skeletons? Piss? Communism?

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I posted the attack helicopter story last week. I liked it. I’m glad I read it. It’s Fall’s decision to retract the story, and Fall made it. I respect that. This is a Twitter thread compiling the disparate reactions to the story and subsequent controversy--negative, positive, and otherwise. It is worth reading.

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I sexually identify as an attack helicopter.

I lied. According to US Army Technical Manual 0, The Soldier as a System, “attack helicopter” is a gender identity, not a biological sex. My dog tags and Form 3349 say my body is an XX-karyotope somatic female.

But, really, I didn’t lie. My body is a component in my mission, subordinate to what I truly am. If I say I am an attack helicopter, then my body, my sex, is too. I’ll prove it to you.

When I joined the Army I consented to tactical-role gender reassignment. It was mandatory for the MOS I’d tested into. I was nervous. I’d never been anything but a woman before.

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Cybernetic implants and cyborg technology are not some antidote to corporate hegemony. The human does not meld with technology to transcend the limitations of humanity. Rather, technology and machinery pose direct threats to precisely that condition. We cannot, in Tsukamoto’s film, hack our way to a better future, or technologically augment our way out of collective despair. Technology—and the mindless rush to reproduce it—are, to Tsukamoto, the very conditions of that despair. Even at thirty years old, Tetsuo offers a chilling vision not of the future, or of 1980s Japan, but of right now: a present where the liberating possibilities of technology have been turned inside-out; where hackers become CEOs whose platforms bespoil democracy; where automation offers not the promise of increased wealth and leisure time, but joblessness, desperation, and the wholesale redundancy of the human species; where the shared hallucination of the virtual feels less than consensual.

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only the finest Soviet kitsch

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We live uneasily the only way we know how, ever more anxious that the earth under our feet is turning to quicksand, while a fierce wind howls at the horizon. Hauling oneself out of one’s elemental presence-ism and presentism is nearly impossible: all the institutions, structures, and systems we live within are predicated on the indefinite persistence of the present. These are the structures and systems and institutions that give our choices meaning, connect us with each other, allow us to see our lives not as transient, atomistic accidents but as coherent, organic parts of a greater whole. Yet as the world changes around us, we are increasingly aware that something is wrong: the future isn’t what it used to be, and the temporal stability we depend on to give our present reality the illusion of persistence seems less and less reliable. We begin to wonder whether thinking fifty, thirty, twenty, or even five years into the future makes any sense, since the global transformation that seems to be steadily approaching—whether for good or for ill, through revolution or through collapse—will overturn everything we hold dear. We find ourselves existentially threatened by ecological collapse and climate change not only in the material sense that it will lead to vast human suffering and billions of deaths but also in a philosophical or psychological sense, in that the promise of imminent catastrophe—or revolution—threatens to make our present day-to-day life meaningless.

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Booty shorts that say There is Power in a Union across the ass.

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psycho-fucking-delic

OH SEES - “The Daily Heavy”, from ‘Face Stabber’, available from Castle Face Records August 16th 2019.

Video by Arturo Baston