Here’s an exceptionally good video of Burning Man 2008. Check out the vids from previous years too. They’re all good!
As Los Angeles began to reach out in all directions from its tenuous core in the early part of the 20th Century, the city became a place for families and for visitors, and finding ways to make money off keeping them entertained was a frequent pursuit of many visionaries and entrepreneurs. Although a massive theme park like Disneyland didn’t come on the scene until the 1950s, in the 1940s animals were the stars at many local attractions.
Sitting on prime real estate where the Cahuenga Pass at opens its mouth into–what was then the largely untamed land of–the San Fernando Valley was an attraction called Monkey Island. Home to hundreds of monkeys who mostly just cavorted as spectators watched, the attraction–a “Paradise of Primates!”–opened in 1938 and enjoyed a brief period of great success, then ostensibly disappeared and was forgotten.
But Does It Float?
This photo, arts and illustration blog is absolutely one of my favorite places to get lost in. There are hours of eye candy to look at.
See for yourself!
Tonight’s full moon is the biggest of the year!
a woman, a
tire that’s flat, a
desire: fears in front of you,
fears that hold so still
you can study them
like pieces on a
it’s not the large things that
send a man to the
madhouse. death he’s ready for, or
murder, incest, robbery, fire, flood…
no, it’s the continuing series of small tragedies
that send a man to the
not the death of his love
but a shoelace that snaps
with no time left …
The dread of life
is that swarm of trivialities
that can kill quicker than cancer
and which are always there –
licence plates or taxes
or expired driver’s license,
or hiring or firing,
doing it or having it done to you, or
roaches or flies or a
broken hook on a
screen, or out of gas
or too much gas,
the sink’s stopped-up, the landlord’s drunk,
the president doesn’t care and the governor’s
lightswitch broken, mattress like a
$105 for a tune-up, carburetor and fuel pump at
and the phone bill’s up and the, market’s
and the toilet chain is
and the light has burned out –
the hall light, the front light, the back light,
the inner light; it’s
darker than hell
and twice as
then there’s always crabs and ingrown toenails
and people who insist they’re
there’s always that and worse;
leaky faucet, christ and christmas;
blue salami, 9 day rains,
50 cent avocados
or making it
as a waitress at norm’s on the split shift,
or as an emptier of
or as a carwash or a busboy
or a stealer of old lady’s purses
leaving them screaming on the sidewalks
with broken arms at the age of 80.
2 red lights in your rear view mirror
and blood in your
toothache, and $979 for a bridge
$300 for a gold
and china and russia and america, and
long hair and short hair and no
hair, and beards and no
faces, and plenty of zigzag but no
pot, except maybe one to piss in
and the other one around your
with each broken shoelace
out of one hundred broken shoelaces,
one man, one woman, one
so be careful
by Charles Bukowski
I could spend days in the galleries alone!