Random Son of a Bitch Uh, I feel in writing mood. What else can I say? I know. I usually get up at 6.15am in the morning because I always do. I try to make it to the 7:15am bus,… Continue Reading →
O the most violent Paradise of the furious grimace! Not to be compared with your Fakirs and other theatrical buffooneries. In improvised costumes like something out of a bad dream, they enact heroic romances of brigands and of demigods, more… Continue Reading →
Hostile images abound of missionaries who participated in the global spread of secularism. Scots sport pundit Archie McPherson expressed disdain for heathen missionaries: “An atheist sermon is an unprovoked bellum; hit seeks tae wyle, tae gadge, tae broubatter, tae steer,… Continue Reading →
FULLERTON, Michael Scottish painter of portraits, landscapes, and fancy pictures, one of the most individual geniuses in European art. Born in Glasgow, he showed an aptitude for drawing early and first was encouraged by his mother, who was a woman… Continue Reading →
Persona: Cornelius and Dr. Ink Scene: The souvenir shop in the Hunterian Art Gallery, Glasgow. Cornelius (coming in through the spin doors). My dear Dr. Ink, don’t coop yourself up all day in the shop. It is a perfectly… Continue Reading →
Some small hope, far away when national imaginaries were composed of garden centres, golf-courses, sewage works, car parks, underpasses and airports, an epic struggle took place between The Garden, and the bare-breeched brethren of the Rossie-Crosse, those reptilian supporters of… Continue Reading →
Mark Leckey Mark Leckey’s Londonatella was last year’s one and only dominator of bastard pop video, trespassing a cover of techno novelty act Altern 8 under the historical footlights of the English capital’s crumbling, perilous backstreets. Using found movie footage… Continue Reading →
Turning Piss into Lager Since 1997 Sometimes it’s hard to find time to sit down and write to people who really matter. That’s why each year, when the time comes around to write this message to you, I ask my… Continue Reading →
Before I begin, I’d like to thank my latest Capitalist sponsors for the absolute restitution of my privileged access to Truth, hence my respectful reverence of Alex Pollard’s Bastardised stealth boomerang returned… Continue Reading →
Sittin’ on down, Old Paint is a little teacherish for his years, but he’s solid without taking himself for his own statue. A Brooklyn guy with 6 pairs of eyes and a heart that won’t lie, a little nasty beauty… Continue Reading →
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