This Side of Paradise: Rare Images of the Kennedys
Filmmaker Jonas Mekas spent time with the Kennedys and taught the kids how to use 16mm film cameras. His documentary film will have a screening as well as an exhibit of the photos taken during that time. Let’s check some of the images…
Hey, I wrote this article. yihi. naks~
Saw this in an LES gallery C.1998…absolutely stunning
Excerpt from Live…Suburbia!
Max G. Morton
Sitting in triple-digit temperatures on a humid beach for ten hours, I listened to the people of the local arts and crafts fair accuse my mother of witchcraft for peddling her ceramic, glow-in-the-dark unicorn horns. That day, she sold a painting of herself crossed with a lizard riding a Harley through a lightning storm of dragon flies and rainbow goblins. For my hard work-slash-patience I got a Kryptonics Ripstik. It was love at first sight with that skateboard. A one-eyed bleeding skull being cleaned out by a vulture was too good to resist. I would have bought it had it been an album cover. I liked it so much I actually swore it was going to be my first tattoo. I wish it would have been.
The skate shop was in a small wood-paneled strip mall a few towns over. It was too far to go drool in via bicycle and definitely too far for my mother to go grocery shopping nearby. I had only been there once before and had thought about it every second after. It was like an ad from Thrasher had come to life.
Within seconds of walking in, I pointed to my deck. Mother wasn’t a fan, but she was a good sport. While the gym coach-looking, mustached owner put together my deck, he tried to tack some nose, tail and rail guards onto the purchase, bringing us way over budget. While I was still young enough to think the Kryptonics Ripstik was cooler than any Powell deck and that it would earn me fear and respect in the neigh- borhood, I was old enough to know that nose guards were gay. Mother was falling for the sales pitch but somehow I convinced her that the rail guards were enough to protect the choice artwork and we spent the remaining cash on some stickers.
While envisioning myself as the suburban Robbie Knievel, my board went flying into traffic and was chopped in half. I also returned home severed. Mother felt bad but made it clear that skateboarding was dangerous and too expensive. A long month later, she returned home from a mother-daughter shopping excursion at Zayre’s with a Nash Executioner skateboard.
“It was a quarter of the price of your last board… AND it’s complete!” she glowed. A complete piece of shit, maybe….
“This board weighs double and came from a department store that Grandma shops at.”
“Max, this is better. The guy there told me it’s the best one. It’s not going to break in a day like your last one. I thought you liked scorpions…”
A fun new challenge presented itself. I had only a few hours to break the Executioner and prove Mother wrong. First stop, the bowling alley roof. Being the designated spot for mass destruction, it was easy enough to climb. Many cars passing by swerved into a ditch or fence from dodging the nail-ridden planks of wood that were tossed below as home- made speed bumps. Flaming dog shit, wimps’ bikes, wimps, shopping carts, school books, you name it. It was all hurled off that roof, and most of the time, it broke. My Nash was turning out to be a little trooper.
Second stop was a construction site. The Nash outlived blocks of cement. Third was pellet-gun target practice in my friend Bobby’s yard which only proved the Executioner to be bullet proof, nearly blinding us with ricochet. Finally, Bobby and I went to the garage where his dad re- paired cars. When he used an electric saw on the board, sparks flew. Once it hit the rail guards, the saw stopped mid-grind.
“Dude no chickening out!” “No way man. I am done. This thing is too Christine. It just melted my
dad’s favorite saw.” It was settled. I was stuck with the Executioner. The
Executioner was indestructible.
haha the raddest
(Source: trevorraabinspiration, via catmonger-deactivated20120202)
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