My two cents about the latest AI BS
A gallery, which I won’t name because they’ve already garnered far more publicity than they deserve, has adopted AI for all the wrong reasons (are there any right ones?); to make (ethically questionable) money, to create a cloud of controversy in order to elevate their image (that misfired), and because they could.
Should is a long, LONG distance from could in this instance.
I unsubscribed from their newsletter after reading their embarrassingly silly reasoning for what they did. I no longer care what they show or don’t show in their white cube; they are arts non grata in my mailbox, and, I hope, in many others.
This was Artificial Inanity at its zenith. So far. (shudder)
The following link will mention their besmirched name; so be it. Here’s the travesty. Link.
A nutty 1935 ad full of dress-up folks
It’s the back cover of a 1935 Popular Science magazine from which I sometimes find ephemera for my collage work. (Take a look at (LINK) for about 100 of those 8” X 8” art pieces.)
Anyway, these so-called outdoor people all luuuuve Camels; first, there’s a Hoot Gibson-like rider of the purple range who values the “Value!” He wears a Halloween outfit and holds a Camel in the same hand that appears to be harboring a huge blunt. He’s leaning as though falling, and smiling. Baked?
Then there’s Helene, horsewoman, who digs the “Mildness!” The hand holding the cig appears to be missing a pinky.
“Healthy Nerves!” shouts Bill Horn, former “gold cup winner.” He steers holding goggles in his steering hand, an odd choice. But hey, one hand is free to hold a Camel to steady those nerves.
And, finally, commanding half the ad’s real estate, is Erwin, who lauds Camel’s “Flavor!” when he’s tired after a day of engineering Boulder Dam. Note Erwin’s jodphurs and lace-up high boots, not de riguer for dam guys, but Erwin just likes getups, much like that lead-off rancher. Maybe he got ‘em from Helene.
I looked up the agency for this brilliance but could only find Ted Bates responsible for 1940’s items like “Camels got a nice ring to it,” after he left Bates, Dorland & Wood in 1939. Oddly enough I was at DFS Dorland for a short time, until they became someone else, taking me right along with them.
Disclaimer: my team never dressed people up in Halloween costumes. BTW, all of the outdoor people in this ad totally ignore the question asked them: “Is this fact important to you?” (“Fact” in the red box being that Camels are made from more expensive tobaccos.)
Old books I’m reading, or no longer reading
Some good, some not. Better than paying new book prices for a collection of words. Where is the Great American Novel hiding?
I’ve bought some new books but they seem like just words. It’s like their agent told them, it’s time you got back out there. Your plumbing needs updating. That’s what Marlon Brando’s agent told him when he sold him on his part in Missouri Breaks. An aside: Brando insisted on wearing white doe-skin in the movie.
The costume designer told Thomas McGuane, the screenwriter, “‘You tell your friend Brando that we’re in Montana, and anything that weighs 300 lbs and is covered in doe-skin, they throw on the ground and brand.’”
The pile of old books. They aren’t stacking up so well. From the top (and I’ll just do one-or-two-liners on them) Some, I won’t get back to, some I’ve read before, some are new to me. All old.
1. Tim O’Brien’s July, July. A reunion book. Not great—stopped reading when he brought in a dwarf as a device. I’ve nothing against little people; I just don’t think they should be ill-used.
2. Klosterman’s A Decade of etc. Mostly music essays—I abandoned this one at toxic heavy metal. Not bad though.
3. Dr. HST’s Hey Rube. Sportswriting by Hunter. He can write anything and it’s good, lively, kind of crazy. Dated by long ago sports events. Signature Gonzo, though.
4. Proulx’s Bird Cloud. I found her Barkskins unreadable, same with Accordion Crimes. This better be more like her.
5. Jim Harrison’s Collected Ghazals. Good—I just read 2, maybe 3 ghazals a sitting. Why ghazals I don’t know, but with that Harrison strength.
6. DFW’s A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again. I didn’t read this back in the day—must say I’m glad it surfaced.
7. Hersh’s Dark Side of Camelot. Pretty good, though I’m tiring of “background” filler and old pols. Let’s get to it, Seymour.
8. Mark Arax, West of the West. Essays, well-written, mostly SoCal, mostly…okay.
Zoot Suit Riots, June 1943
This is the old pachuco hand tattoo—it has since become more graphically intricate, but all signify la vida loca and a latino, latina brotherhood, sisterhood.(Link to explanation)
