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 March 11, 1998 In this issue: |
 Shafted Get Yer Props Ouija Rent Strike Sounds Like a Foghorn |
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Every week, the Passenger issues a pop culture report formulated from
his Internet travails. He is a complicated man, and no one understands him
but his woman.
I'm kidding, of course. No man who surfs the web all day has ever gotten a
girlfriend. I just wanted to use that line from Isaac Hayes' "Shaft"
because I love it so. It is an enduring classic and whenever I play it I
feel more like a man and less a doughy schmuck with those stupid looking
"wrist support" gloves on. That said, let's slide gently into the
badassed uptown Saturday night that is pop culture. Can you dig it? |
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PROPS GOT MO' SKILLS
What's that on your head? It's high time you traded in your stoic
Stetson,
funky Kangol or Thelonious Monk porkpie for the last word in fashion
headgear, because propeller beanies aren't just for low-level gearheads
any
more. The haute couture of Interstellar Propeller has graced the skulls of Wavy Gravy,
Shaquille O'Neal and
maybe -- just maybe -- _The_ Bill Gates. Score! Interstellar Propeller's
caps
are the ultimate in Straight Edge, suitable for "cycling, skating,
skiing,
scoring, sailing, jogging, discos..." Personally, I've seen kids wear
far
sillier hats to raves, and they have to take reality-altering drugs just
to
put them on. Wearing these hats requires no chemical prodding, and a
glow-in-the-dark version is now available for nightclubbing. Yes, I'm
serious. |
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THE NAKED EYE
"At the head of my bed I have a hook-in with the police alarms and fire
gongs so that if anything happens while I'm asleep, I'm notified..."
Weegee's World literally makes its case in
black and white. Weegee, nee Arthur Fellig (it is conjectured that his
unusual sobriquet was a play on the Ouija Board, owing to his gift for
appearing at crime scenes well in advance of the police) was a freelance
photographer whose starkly beautiful visions of 1940's New York City are as
emotionally stirring as they are brutally real. The Weegee's World site
was produced by the International Center of Photography, and in the spirit
of true storytellers -- every picture does tell a story, but there's always
more to be said -- the site contrasts Weegee's life and times with his
work. This is an artist portrait without peer. |
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THE GIRLS NEXT DOOR
The Jane and Carol Letters
detail the life and times of the most nakedly hostile and ignorant
tenants
ever to sign a joint lease. In a series of poorly written, completely
deadpan letters, their long-suffering landlord is asked to compensate
for a
ripped pair of jeans (Jane snagged them on a nail while sitting on an
outdoor deck) a $500 exorcism to drive "bad spirits" out of the cottage
("Do you know any bargain gurus?" Carol asks) and an upright "vacumn"
cleaner to replace the one that Jane destroyed while trying to clean out
the refrigerator. They even demand free firewood to stoke a nonexistent
fireplace. And you thought "Single White Female" was a decent comedy. |
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ULTRA-MAROON They are the sounds of your childhood. They are the voice of your subconscious mind. They are the pillars at the root of our culture. The Looney Tunes SoundSource offers a wealth of sampled vocals from such stars of screen and television as Daffy Duck, Bugs Bunny, Porky Pig, Elmer Fudd and the newly-resurgent Marvin The Martian. Ten minutes inside this site and you'll be laughing what's left of your head off. If Billy Bob Thornton and Kevin Costner can get Academy Award nominations for their acting, I say-now-I-say WHY shouldn't Foghorn Leghorn? What separates Yosemite Sam from Harvey Keitel? Tweety from Leonardo DiCaprio? "Space Jam" got robbed, man. Don't make fun of my gloves. They keep my hands warm and supple, and with the addition of a few sequins here and there they could be ironic. See you next week, with another fistful of pop from the new king thereof. I'm telling you this Passenger's a bad mother ... shut your mouth ...
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