Sometimes an artist with a reputation for brilliant and eccentric works, average Netflix ratings, and a handful of festival awards will get it in his head that Nazi jokes and anti-Semitic comments are just “fun” and that he is immune from ridicule and pariah-status because of his self-contained brilliance, quirks, and Euro-indie cred. After watching the video of von Trier’s transgression it’s pretty obvious he fell victim to his brain’s faulty wiring in handling awkward and unnatural (for him) public situations. Considering certain semantic idiosyncrasies, one could forgive von Trier for his poor translation of Danish slang—he says he called himself a Nazi because he is of German stock.
A little under a year ago I received a picture message from my wife. It was a photo of a smiley face, which was on a stick she’d just peed on. Its appearance meant that she was ovulating, so I sped home from my office, which was five miles away, hoping to beat my father. My father wasn’t speeding to my house from another office, jockeying with me to impregnate my wife; rather, he was due to meet us for lunch in ten tiny little minutes. I pulled up to the curb with eight minutes to spare, and within three of those minutes my wife was pregnant, via sex. I don’t know what we did with the remaining five minutes because I typically black out after I make love.
Pink is a 42-year-old from Seattle, Washington. Her and her husband have been in a polyamorous relationship for 12 years, which means they let each other slut around. About a year ago, Pink started dating Patrick, a man in the employ of the US government who happens to be quadriplegic. She has since become Patrick’s sex slave, and serves him in every way he sees fit—sucking blood into his penis to make it hard, helping him have bowel movements, etc. Pink talked to me about her life of submission.
Eric Dressen is a skateboarding legend. He is also a tattoo artist who has recently moved to the bustling block of Fairfax Avenue in Hollywood, so now you don’t have to drive to Gardenia, wherever the hell that is.
Eric Dressen has always been one of my favorite skaters. While most area skaters in the late 80s were enthralled by the Boner Brigade I was all about Eric Dressen and Dogtown (I think the fact that the Dogtown cross graphic was one of the only things I could draw had a lot to do with it).
As I’m sure you know, to coincide with the release of his new movie, Lars Von Trier said something wacky and offensive about Nazis. Clever chap. The unsung star of Lars’ PR holocaust however was the woman sat next to him at the time, Kirsten Dunst. Dunst – who was born both pretty and famous – almost certainly has a PR person and a media trainer on her shoulders in place of the standard devil and angel.
Over twenty years ago an Australian director called Mark Lewis made a film about cane toads. Yes, those ugly creatures that look like a sun-leathered Meatloaf suffering from a bad case of the alcoholic-bloats that every Australian has a green light to kill by whatever sadistic means possible.
How about a chance to never have to wait in a line-up for a show again (for 4 days)? To get there whenever you want and know that you’ll get in, sort of like bands or better connected people. So if you want to get your Bourne-identity on and to overall just “stress less”, this is probably something you should be interested in.
Jeffrey Harrison moved to LA in the 80s to pursue an acting career, but soon became a serial sperm donor at the California Cryobank, where he got $25 a pop for his baby batter. Now 52 and estranged from his divorced parents, he exists somewhere between Iggy Pop and Ace Ventura—a bong-smoking conspiracy theorist living with a load of animals in a broken-down RV on Venice Beach with many, many children.
When I poked out my little brother’s eyeball I was about four years old. I like to think that I don’t remember the gory scene, but that’s simply not the truth. I don’t remember actually taking his eye out with a rusty garden tool, but I do recall playing ‘operation war movie reenactment’, and swinging the long pseudo-sword back and forth across the yard.
I recently finished a documentary about Satanism for ZDFneo, a German TV station. I also wrote about Satan worshipers and the long-term effects of ritualistic abuse, especially on children forced into the church by their parents, for this very magazine. If you read that article and felt I was siding with the victims, you’re right. I spent over three months talking with and filming those who suffered ritualistic abuse and we built up a strong emotional connection.
The Bizarre Ball is an annual party for readers of that magazine who consider themselves beyond the mundane confines of sexual and societal norms. We went, primarily to make snide remarks about everyone.