Minific

  Red Door, Chicago, Illinois
I submitted a piece of tiny fiction to Nanoism. It was rejected. Here it is:

The tumor was terrible. Pulled at its leash, would not heel. Its malignance was the least of it, she decided, dragging it down the street. 

Trouble

Brandi Grissom's "Trouble in Mind" is a great piece of longform journalism.

That night, as he lay in bed, still high and muttering about angels, Andre stabbed himself in the chest with a knife, then fell asleep. The next morning, his mother, who had moved in with him, took him to the hospital, where Andre explained that he had cut himself trying to “cross over into heaven.” A nurse noted that Andre was psychotic. An emergency room physician, Dr. William Bowen, examined him while he rattled on about a new world order and the hidden meaning of symbols on the dollar bill. After determining that Andre’s self-inflicted stab wound was not serious, the doctor left the room to apply for an emergency detention order to keep him hospitalized. But by the time Bowen returned, Andre had slipped out of the hospital unnoticed. Bowen called the police and provided a description of him, explaining that he could be dangerous.

[READ]

$krippers

Nokia Music, 'Atlanta Dream$' from Somesuch & Co. on Vimeo.

Interesting short on strip clubs and hip hop directed by Tyrone Lebon, friend of cross-eyed girls.

Toys

Sex Toys, Las Vegas, Nevada

More movie blitz

    This scene is a spoiler.
"Skyfall": Suffice to say, I wouldn't kick Daniel Craig out of bed for eating crackers. Is he my favorite Bond? No. Did Sam Mendes over-style this film to death, killing the playfulness and inventiveness that made yesterday's Bond movies so delightful? Yes. See this movie if for no reason other than to witness Javier Bardem as the world's greatest gay villain.

Pudong never looked so glamorous.

"Life of Pi": Ugh. Treacly is a good word here. I made it 15 minutes in before I had to stop. It's all so magical and delightful, and God dwells in every living creature. I read this book a long time ago. I can't stand anything too twee and colorful, regardless of the medium.

I should try to watch it again, but maybe I won't.

"Killing Them Softly": Why you make it so hard for me to love you? Brad Pitt is a sexy beast. For fuck's sake, I really wanted to like this movie. I guess you could say it's a bit like Tarantino -- when it's not ripping off Scorsese -- in that you enjoy the moments of breathtaking freakiness, yet the rest is a fucking mess.

This is cinema that relies mostly on words, true to its original novel form. Its noirscape rains always. "Chopper" it ain't. Richard Jenkins is a lovely driver, Louisiana is fittingly sad, and there's a scene between Gandolfini and a hooker that's the worth the cost of the ticket.

What I'm reading

Tenth of December: Stories, George Saunders

Lynchian

I really love this quirky INTERVIEW PROJECT on DavidLynch.com.

Five days

   American Apparel, Chicago, Illinois
I'm doing a five-part series on my Forbes blog this week about how to get a freelance job in five days. Join me, won't you?

[READ]

Finding Vivian Maier

This documentary "Finding Vivian Maier" looks fascinating. Found via The Click.

Fan

Porn Star and Fan, Las Vegas, Nevada

On writing

Graffiti, Chicago, Illinois

"But writing a novel is an inherently strange exercise. It’s surreal to work for years and years on a project very few people have seen. Sometimes I feel like I’m in the grips of an incredibly intricate and time-consuming delusion. So it’s comforting to know that some of the novelists who inspire me also, of necessity, take their time." -- "Some Company for Slow Writers," Maud Newton

Centrifuge

The totally awesome Centrifuge Brain Project via Swiss Miss.

More movies

"Side Effects": Let's hope Soderbergh doesn't really retire on this note. Generally, not bad, but that kind of movie you enjoy in the theater, and it becomes a vague memory the next day.

The ladies will enjoy the too-brief appearance of Magic Mike, and the men will enjoy Catherine Zeta Jones and Rooney Mara making out.

"Argo": My god, is this movie boring. What's with the hype? The nominations? The awards? If this movie wins Best Picture, I'm moving to Zimbabwe. Also, most of the movie is made up, so there you go.

The most authentic thing about this film is the seventies hair.

"Zero Dark Thirty": Fantastic. Totally awesome. Completely terrific. Super great. Love the ballsy chick who just wants UBL dead. There is nothing not to love about a movie in which the leading lady refers to herself as a "motherfucker."

Shame on the Academy for not nominating Bigelow for the win.

Toys

Toys, Las Vegas, Nevada

Movies

"Silver Linings Playbook": Don't get me wrong, I'm a David O. Russell fan, but this movie is overrated. Cooper is eh and so is Miss Hunger Games. Everyone else is great -- Tucker, De Niro, Weaver, Stiles, and especially Ortiz -- and the movie's uncredited also-character is its frenetic, spastic pace.

In the end, it's a thinky chick flick, and the third act falls to the popcorn-sticky theater floor with a resounding thud.

"Flight": Man, was I excited to see this movie. How many times have I seen "Cast Away"? Many. The airline crash sequence is a visually awesome nail-biter. Everything else is a corny alcoholism story we've seen already.

The movie's fun find is Kelly Reilly. Bonus points for an opening scene featuring booze, blow, and boobs.

"Django Unchained": The D is silent. This film made me feel uncomfortable, and not just due to Tarantino's Hitchcock wannabe-esque cameo as a bloated old-timey hustler. There's just something about a movie made by a white man that says "nigger" over 100 times, that uses slavery as a slapstick backdrop for a plot that can't decide if it's a spaghetti western or social commentary that gives me the hives.

That Mr. Foxx was overlooked for an Academy Award nom was the real disgrace.

Sausage

Doll, Las Vegas, Nevada

In a 2011 Forbes article entitled “Women Write Differently Than Men (Duh),” Susannah Breslin writes that she was simultaneously more compassionate and more ruthless when she wrote about the pornography business, because she could identify with women in a way that men could not. “The fantasy and the sex didn’t interest me,” she recalls. “I was looking for the ordinary in the extraordinary, the mundane in the hardcore, the human beings in the sausage factory.”-- The Walrus

Werner

Werner Herzog talks obscenity. Via Daniel Shea.

Green

I really love Marilyn Minter's work. This is "Green Pink Caviar."

Porn star

Porn Star, Las Vegas, Nevada

The most important thing you can do is write awesome stuff, no matter where it is published. Seriously, when people tell me they want to write profiles for the New Yorker, I’m like, "THEN GO DO IT. Have you heard of Blogger.tumblr.com?" I mean, there is absolutely nothing stopping any of us from spending three months with a subject and writing the definitive 10k word piece proving why they are important and fascinating. Except Homeland, bourbon, and laziness. So, shit, write a profile about a lazy alcoholic who watches too much TV. BOOM. Problem solved. (See: Susannah Breslin’s They Shoot Porn Stars, http://theyshootstars.com/). -- Alexis Madrigal, The Believer

Shots from my life in porn

Le Journal de la Photographie has published a series of my adult industry-themed photos.

The photos were taken over a 12-year period, on adult movie sets, at adult conventions, and at adult award shows.

As I write, they're an attempt to show what happens behind the scenes, a peek at what's happening when there are no rules and the video camera is looking in the other direction.

[SEE]