Sunday, December 16, 2007

:: Naked Brunch: 9 shopping days left ::

HA! I am finished shopping! Did all but one of my gifts via web-shopping and even did some of the parents shopping that way. Then took Friday off and marathon shopped Friday and Saturday. Only two left for them and they can manage that themselves. Thank goodness. It”s insane out there. Seriously. People are freaking nuts. I thought I was going to lose it yesterday and beat the crap out of some rude son of a bitch…but, I was good, and withheld.

So, the holiday party I organized for all my clients, etc. was a glowing success. I am so glad that is over. Even my bosses were impressed. Next year? Casino Royale in a tent on the lawn….it will be soooo cool! BTW, the jazz band I hired for the party was HOT!

Robert Dowling is (basically) leaving eBay for smashingly greener pastures. I can’t release what has happened, but it’s BIG, exclusive, and exciting. I am so damned happy for him, and seriously proud of his achievements. Unfortunately, for you and me, access to his paintings through this venue is finished as of December 31, so, if you want an original, you better hotfoot it over there and bid like there is no tomorrow (since there isn’t) and because all you will see on eBay from now on will be prints and Giclee reproductions (not that there is anything wrong with that). It may be all I can afford from now on anyway. Check Rob’s website for the big announcement, coming soon.


In the meantime, I have a seriously large hankering for this dark and moody bit of melodrama Rob has ensorcelled me with, entitled: Before I Say Goodbye

This 30” x 40” oil & acyclic canvas is full of mystery and change and brooding. I love it. It appeals to me on that level automatically. Happpy shit makes me want to puke. Change, mystery, longing, depth, brooding, power, darkness, … all these things and more, do it for me. I always want to know, to see, what’s on the other side of that. The whimsy in these paintings also get to me. Sometimes, seeminly innocent, that change instanteously to “other.” A varying background of breasts in profile, nipples extended. The softening foregorund with buried and unrevealed mysteries. The puzzle and that house, always imminently on the edge of demise. The longing of the woman, and the watching of many eyes. The blackness, and purity of the sky, that very mysterious and deep, deep sky…. I want it.


Another Dowling original up for auction is Trying to Find My Way Home, bring back the baby boy of more recent painting this past year. Who this child is, is a puzzle. However, this particular painting reminds me of the first painting I ever purchased from Rob, over three years ago. In that painting, you see a very lonely and angst-rideen setting of a figure in the background, walking along the rise of land, and fenceline, forelorn, and seemingly deep in thought, lost, but, metaphorically rather than literally. This paintings setting is more literal, I think. Yet, metaphorically challenging as to who the child is or will become. I think we know, Rob. I think I know. I also know how far you have come, from that painting to this one. No more guessing… for now.

From art to hell. Pure hell. Inside the CIA’s Nortorious Black Op Sites: a first-person, indepth account of inside these hideous prisons.

Dec. 14, 2007 | WASHINGTON — The CIA held Mohamed Farag Ahmad Bashmilah in several different cells when he was incarcerated in its network of secret prisons known as “black sites.” But the small cells were all pretty similar, maybe 7 feet wide and 10 feet long. He was sometimes naked, and sometimes handcuffed for weeks at a time. In one cell his ankle was chained to a bolt in the floor. There was a small toilet. In another cell there was just a bucket. Video cameras recorded his every move. The lights always stayed on — there was no day or night. A speaker blasted him with continuous white noise, or rap music, 24 hours a day.

The guards wore black masks and black clothes. They would not utter a word as they extracted Bashmilah from his cell for interrogation — one of his few interactions with other human beings during his entire 19 months of imprisonment. Nobody told him where he was, or if he would ever be freed.

It was enough to drive anyone crazy. Bashmilah finally tried to slash his wrists with a small piece of metal, smearing the words “I am innocent” in blood on the walls of his cell. But the CIA patched him up.

So Bashmilah stopped eating. But after his weight dropped to 90 pounds, he was dragged into an interrogation room, where they rammed a tube down his nose and into his stomach. Liquid was pumped in. The CIA would not let him die…..(more)

I have no words…. but, more US Sponsored Terrorism…. aren’t we sweet. And, then there is the relentless and illegal domestic spying, on us.

For Eric the Grinchteehee!

And speaking of Grinches, this bastard takes ‘em all. Have a very Cornyn Xmas

THE SHOW THAT DARE NOT SPEAK IT'S NAME: You can go have a listen to Ripley and Scooter go commando, yabbering last weekend. I missed it due to short notice, so I’m having a listen now. They are so very amusing…. “hello?” (Personally, I’d just listen to hear “The Voice.”)

Check out the Rude Pundit on the Bush Xmamis Video.

Monica Crowley says Hillary is SATAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Run, run for you life you believers!

Austin Cline does a number on Rape & Pillage.

The Anonymous Liberal on Huck n Hurl.

NTodd and I need strength to endure this kind of bullshit.

Well, I gotta go. The Parents have things for me to do, put up the damned infernal tree, write the freakin Xima letter and print the damned thing for them, wrap all those freakin’ gifts to others, pack and mail the blasted things (didn’t I tell them to buy and ship online?????) and who knows what else. The horrendous baking has yet to begin.

Maybe before that, I’ll go for a bike ride.

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