Tag: Culture

was born in tulsa oklahoma in 1943. when i was sixteen i started shooting amphetamine. i shot with my friends everyday for three years and then left town but i’ve gone back through the years. once the needle goes in it never comes out.” -Larry Clark

“We are also focusing on how we select product designs in the future, and asking that our designers have a loose grasp of history. Or we are at least asking that they have the ability to conduct a successful Google search.”

After last night’s debate, I’m no longer undecided. The choice is clear.

Children on leashes are the new accessory of choice for all strippers turned rappers.

Nearly two years ago, I wrote a short blog post that referenced photographer Peter B. Kaplan’s “Moon Over Manhattan” photograph (above) — which depicts a group of workers high atop the World Trade Center, installing a radio antenna. In the photograph, one of the men takes it upon himself to moon his coworkers.

The war on drugs: Last-ditch effort.

Dispatch from the slums of suburbia.

When I parked my car at the end of Santiago Street, I half expected to find a cul-de-sac devoid of houses. Chris Blackwell, principal planner from the Penn Hills Department of Planning and Economic Development, told me how his department had demolished nearly all the street’s blighted properties in recent years.

Each day I drive past this hi-riser on my daily commute through Western Pennsylvania’s Monongahela Valley. In three years, it’s never moved, yet somehow it retains a shine — like the owner still regularly washes and waxes it even though he stopped driving it long ago.

“The Murder of the Mon Valley” by the editors over at Insurgent Notes. Found this article while researching some writing projects I’m putting together about the region. It’s written from a pro-union/pro-labor perspective (i.e., blog’s subhead reads: “Journal of Communist Theory and Practice”), and gives a detailed historical look at the rise of steel manufacturing in the Mon Valley,

A month or so back, for example, I unearthed a copy of The Soul of America (1986) — Esquire’s state-by-state look at life in 1980s America. A Ken Kesey essay on rodeo culture in Kansas is what prompted me to buy the book, but after paging through the table of contents some more, I discovered a story written by Lynn Darling titled “True Blue.”

A year ago we did a project called Postcards From America. It was a groundbreaking experiment. Rather than waiting to be commissioned, we just made a decision to do something and hit the road. We drove from San Antonio to Oakland. It was really thrilling. But it was also pretty chaotic.

For the last several months, I’ve been researching the topic of suburban decline for a series of nonfiction stories I’m working on. I’m looking at what is traditionally viewed as first-ring suburbs, or the first wave of planned communities beyond the city limits. My focus is on the eastern suburbs outside of Pittsburgh, an area I’ve lived nearly all my life.

I was not surprised when the “occupation” of Zucotti Park was cleared out last November by the NYPD. What surprised me was that it could persist for nearly two months in a place as spatially constricted as Manhattan. New York City is not particularly hospitable to those who wish to live off-the-grid or create autonomous spaces for themselves — artistic,…

Back in November 2010, Austin Hargrave wrote about his experience photographing the homeless who live in the tunnels beneath Las Vegas. His photographs appeared in Matthew O’Brien’s book, Beneath the Neon, which documents the people who live (for a variety of reasons) in the drainage tunnels beneath the city. With homelessness numbers in Las Vegas tripling since 2009, it makes you wonder if the tunnels have seen an influx of residents in the last year.

After an unrehearsed stage routine involving Cooper and a live chicken garnered attention from the press, the band decided to capitalize on tabloid sensationalism, creating in the process a new subgenre, shock rock. Cooper claims that the infamous ‘Chicken Incident’, which took place at the Toronto Rock and Roll Revival concert in September 1969, was in fact an accident.

When I was a boy and played with the gang we did a lot of things. We roasted potatoes and went on expeditions, we tipped over garbage cans now and then, we wrote nasty remarks about the teacher on the sidewalk. We never spent our afternoons like this, reading.

A dispatch from the ‘uncanny valley’.

The first time I ever actually saw augmented reality, I was living in Albany, NY. My friend loaded LAYAR onto his phone and we walked around our neighborhood, watching real estate data instantiate alongside buildings.

Garage-rock revivalism holds a certain amount of sway over me, especially the type Hanni El Khatib has assembled on Will The Guns Come Out (Innovative Leisure). Most likely my interest has something to do with an adolescence steeped in power-chord worship.

Looking for personal stories from individuals who lost a job in the months and/or years following the stock market crash of 2008. The submissions will be edited and published in the epilogue to Death of a Good Job, a zine/micro memoir that will be independently published sometime in 2012.

Breakfast death game: Bacon vs. Gun.