Everyone knows that Winston Churchill was one of the greatest Prime Ministers that Britain ever had. Many people also know he was an alcoholic. Some people know he was a wit. And a few know he was a painter of moderate talents.
But who knew he was a rapper?
Behold the wonder which is DJ Winston, as he and his crew get this dinner party started!
via Neatorama
As IF I need a quiz to tell me this:
Your Independence Level: Very High |
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You cherish your freedom, and you resent rules. No one knows what’s right for you as much as you do. You can take care of yourself… and you do a mighty fine job of it. |
Michael Jackson, the self-crowned King of Pop, is dead at the age of 50. Born an adorable, talented black boy, he died (apparently of heart failure, insert own bitter joke here) a bizarre creature somewhere between the aliens from Communion and Zombie Janice Dickinson, with a soupcon of pederasty for (as the kids say) flava. Alternately short of Money or Invincible, Black or White, Smooth Criminal or The Man, he remained a protean figure of scandal-scented mystery to his last days.
It’s just Human Nature to pursue a Pretty Young Thing, although his Monkey Business recreational tastes and pursuits brought him to the attention of the law on a regular basis. When finally confronted with the rap, he Beat It, claiming he and the boys were Just Good Friends who would Come Together in friendship. Known over the decades as a libel lawyer’s best patron (What More Can He Give?) when he felt Threatened, the eccentric musician had seemed in recent years to have turned around his notoriously aberrant behavior, although more cynical minds (like mine) figured that instead of pursuing free-range children, he’d just decided to grow his own: Blanket, Prince Michael, and Paris. Ah, the Lost Children.
I hope that, once his no-doubt vainglorious tomb is complete and he installed within it, Banksy can come up with something suitably memorable, although it’s hard to top that portrait. HIStory will judge him. Until that time, we have this, by DryHumourSteve:
His bones will given to the relatives of Joseph Carey Merrick
Banksy may or may not be a man; he may or may not be a collective; but he definitely IS my dream man (when you’re a communist, it doesn’t count as an orgy, it counts as “sharing”). Hey, it’s my dream, I can have what I want in it.
Not only did he give me my best-performing post ever, but he also just unveiled this:
Yes, he put the “MPs” into “Chimps.” But without Boris Johnson in the house, there’s a sad shortage of Bonobos to bring teh sex-ay.
Sadly, the truth is, none of them look like Johnny Depp; they actually look exactly like that guy that asked you for change the other day.
Oh, and it gets worse:
I don’t know what it is about this song, but it seems to inspire the greatest living sardonicists to greater achievements in sheer over-the-topitude than have ever been seen this side of Kadath Through The Looking-Glass.
First there was Kiki and Herb’s heartrending story of transgendered love gone awry and tragic loss.
Now, there is dascottjr’s Literal Version. Post-Post-Postmodern and deeply Eighties, it takes you behind the scenes, behind the hair gel and makeup, behind the blank expressions of the born-to-sing-not-act star and shows you the true meaning of this, perhaps the most iconic of all music videos.
Dancing Fonzie zombies FTW!
via azahar
Oh yes, there’s a Facebook page, of course.
and, as we’ve mentioned before, underappreciated. Feel his pain: feel the unassuageable pain of the mighty T Rex:
Carrying on from our infamous Cthulhu Porn post (warning: CTHULHU GOATSE, THE ULTIMATE EVIL), we present the following. In case you read The Dunwich Horror, extrapolated (as is your wont) from the circumstances surrounding the conception of Wilbur Whatley, and wondered what kind of woman would do the dirty with Mister Big Himself, Cthulhu.
Behold:
It explains so very much.
Atomic Fez
The proprietor of Atomic Fez Publishing will engage the public in an all singing, all dancing event at The Shebeen Whisky House behind the Irish Heather Gastro-Pub in Vancouver’s Gastown district.
Ian Alexander Martin is expected to discuss his reasoning behind beginning a Small Press Publishing house in these days of financial turmoil which have seen several international houses drastically scale back their structures, frequently closing sub-imprints and selling off their intellectual assets like so much scrap iron. Likewise, when even local publisher Raincoast Books scales downsize their operation following the completion of the ‘Harry Potter…’ series, is there any point in trying to enter the market?
Additional topics will include:
Come and hear a 20-minute talk about what Mr. Martin’s approaches are, and what he thinks the state of publishing is today. A question and answer session with follow the presentation after a short break.
Ian Alexander Martin
ABOUT THE NAÏVE PROPRIETOR
For three years Ian Alexander Martin was a Director in Humdrumming, Limited—a very tiny publishing company registered in England & Wales—during the last ten months of which was acting as President and C.E.O., Managing and Editorial Director, plus also being responsible for the contracting, editing, typesetting, publishing, and marketing of twenty different titles. Meanwhile, Humdrumming continually earned the respect and admiration of writers and readers alike, as well as seven ’short-list’ nominations from the prestigious British Fantasy Society’s annual awards (and more to come in a few months).
In addition to the above, Mr. Martin has previously been an arts journalist; editor; professional photographer; photo-finishing store owner; web-site designer and consultant; theatre actor and director, as well as being the Founding Editor and Publisher of the theatre web-zine The Boards. If you had told him at the turn of the millennium that he would have accomplished these things, he would have laughed so hard he would have been physically ill at your feet.
He lives in Burnaby with his wife and two cats, all three of whom frequently succeed in dragging him kicking and screaming from the computer keyboard.
Blogging and social media classes
eat raincoaster feed!
My blog is worth $120,811.56.
How much is your blog worth?
