Banksy caught in the act!

Banksy’s bouquet

One of the great mysteries of the Twenty-First Century has been revealed: the identity of the secretive “Banksy,” perhaps the most (in)famous of all guerrilla graffiti artists. Banksy, whose politically and socially critical works sell for hundreds of thousands of dollars to collectors around the world including the Pitt-Jolie family, is notoriously reclusive. The artist has never been publicly identified, and no previous photos of Banksy at work are known to exist. As you will see from the picture behind the page jump, the patron saint of taggers everywhere has good reason to have kept quiet about that highly inconvenient “day job.”

Banksy Thug for Life

Click onward for the shocking photo evidence.

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the salt mines

Coal MinersWorking for a living. Yeah, it sucks. The long, monitor-lit hours, from the very moment your afternoon coffee is ready right up until it’s time for cocktails, it is a gruelling, bone-crushing slog. The nightly thrashings from the trolls. The technical difficulties. The next-morning regrets when the boss asks why you posted the decapitation story on a mommyblog.

While some are fortunate enough to get iFreebie after iFreebie, some of us must content ourselves with only a token collection of, say, Viggo Mortensen videos, jewelry, international trips, and squid-themed clothing sent by various well-wishers from across the planet.

Honestly, what’s a humble anarchist squid/parenting/gossip blogger to do?

If you only knew the thousands of twisted, revolting things I have comb through every day just to find you something of the quality of Baby Toupee, show you a scientific video as breathtakingly beautiful as It’s Full of Stars, or compose a symphony of intertextual meaning such as Linkabilly Roundup, you’d bow your head and solemnly click the SUPPORT OPERATION GLOBAL MEDIA DOMINATION Paypal donation button near the

Top

Right-Hand

Corner

of the blog.

Again, for those just tuning in: the Support OGMD Paypal donation button is in the sidebar, on the right-hand side of the blog. Click at will.

Click early. Click often.

In any case, as I have recently been asked “How do you know this stuff” I thought I would give you a sample, however small, of the revolting masses of teeming Hollywood effluent through which I must wade day in and day out, slaving away for my crust and a bowl of scummy, tepid water.

Without so much as a Fish Head to gnaw on.

Go on. Click. But be warned: this stuff will fucking break you. You can’t handle it. No one can for long, and retain their sanity. Just be thankful that there are a legion of us bloggers out there protecting you from coming into contact with such things directly. It’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to do it.

You’re welcome. You’re warned.

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2 girls 2 cup

2 girls 2 cup
From the long-overdue and probably good for your token Arts and Humanities undergrad credit Understanding Art for Geeks by the brazilliant Paul the Wine Guy (via Valleywag).

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Cthulhun

Cthulhun

From Twystneko, via Geekdad, via Dale

In his tomb in R’lyeh, Great Cthulhun lies, deflating. And if you untie him, he makes this sound: Ph’nglui mglw’nafh wgah’nagl fhtagn as he zips around the ceiling. MOST undignified!

Happiness versus Fun: the American Nightmare

It’s called the American Dream because you have to be unconscious to believe it.
George Carlin

Married To The Sea

For most of the world, America is the great entertainment factory. The New Jerusalem envisionsed by the Puritans has turned out to be the world’s leading manufacturer of amusement and cheap thrills. The colonists and their descendants did indeed build them a shining city on a hill — but they called it Disneyland. In the Declaration of Independence they enshrined, along with life and liberty, the inalienable right to pursue happiness. But happiness is hard. Happiness takes work. Even worse, happiness is a long shot. So America settled for fun, perfected it, and sold it to an eager world. Pop music, Hollywood movies, the seductive sound of ice chattering in a silver cocktail shaker — they are the tangible, consumable expressions of the lofty principles in the Declaration of Independence,
the free culture of a free people.

William Grimes, in
Straight Up or On the Rocks, The History of the American Cocktail

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