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Today I cannibalized an older piece that wasn't working, going after it with scissors and an X-acto knife (woo).
Approximately 5 CDs later (actually LPs, mostly prog rock), the shearing was done and a new background was in place. Now the real work starts--the whole thing has to be cut into pieces and taped back together in a mosaic/quilt that looks exactly like this. (Strips of cloth framers' tape will be applied on the back, along the seams.) Those bar code things are xeroxes of an op art pattern I made in MSPaintbrush and only used once, for a small piece.
Added a left side link for David Lynch's Daily Report. In most of the short Quicktime movies I've seen at this URL, he's sitting in the same spot behind his work table wearing a white shirt. He looks at the sky outside his window (off camera), gives a short synopsis of the weather "here in LA," and looks calmly back at the viewer. The only thing that changes are slight variations in the direction of his towering white wave of a hairdo. It's awesome hair. I like the story James Wolcott told recently about the special critics' screening for Blue Velvet Pauline Kael gave back in the 80s. (Speaking of media objectivity.) She called Lynch to tell him everyone loved his sicko masterpiece and he earnestly replied in his typical schoolboy manner, "Oh, God bless." Dune, the movie he made for Dino de Laurentiis to bankroll Velvet, gets better and more disturbing every year. I had horrible bloody nightmares after watching it recently.
"Mouse Party" [mp3 removed]. Down and dirty, as they say.
One of the umpteen million lies told by the current lyin'-its-head-off US Administration was calling 9/11 a failure of imagination. Man, didn't these people ever watch movies? Executive Decision, a pretty excellent if technically overambitious actioner from 1996, features a band of Muslim hijackers (with submachine guns!) who take over a crowded jet ostensibly to free their jailed Osama-like leader. A bomb is on board containing "enough nerve agent to wipe out half the Eastern seaboard," and the real mission of the cell's Mohammed Atta-like second in command is to crash the plane into the heart of Washington DC and bring the "vengeance of Allah" down on the American people. The part where life-imitating-art completely breaks down, tragically, is that the US government not only scrambles fighters to escort the plane, but literally injects a team of commandoes by means of a flying leech that attaches to the outer hull, giving Kurt Russell and the other good guys access to all the non-passenger parts of the plane. The bomb is defused, the fanatics are all killed, no passengers are hurt (except a smarmy Senator trying to use the event for a photo op), and Kurt Russell lands the plane after the main insane jihadist kills both pilots. Again, what really stretches credulity is Condoleeza Rice never seeing this movie (or a half-dozen like it) flipping around a hotel cable dial late at night.