Posts Tagged ‘ eatthelemons ’

The New York Tattoo Convention

We entered an unlit hallway made of cardboard and panels, with the first visible thing being a T-shirt stand selling NYC Tattoo Convention T’s. The buzzing of needles was pervasive and soon became white noise. What attracted our attention was the sound of a whip snapping and someone screaming.

The New York Tattoo (and Piercing) Convention occurs every year at the Roseland Ballroom, sometime in May. Despite the mere four annual T-shirts their website sells, they are now in their 10th year. Tattoo and piercing artists and people with general body modification needs father round and take over Roseland for three days.

face tattoo

Look closely for the guy whose features are hard to discern under ink

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Revisiting Dead Bodies Under Glass

Skin Man

In 2006 I have had the good fortune to stumble over the Body Worlds Exhibition (in no way associated with the subpar Bodies Exhibit currently in New York) while it was in Philadelphia. This article was the result of my visit.
Some years ago I heard about a peculiar German exhibition consisting of human corpses. The most disturbing exhibit was supposedly that of a dead pregnant woman, on display with her eight-month-old fetus still inside her. In my mind I created a morbid image of a woman’s abdomen cut open with skin flaps stretched and pinned away from the body (a la High School frog dissection) with the fetus inside exposed and grimacing at the viewer. This image was not inspired by horror films, at least not horror films alone, but other exhibitions I have gravitated towards in my travels. Continue reading

Moore Humor: A review of A Dirty Job

A Dirty JobSomewhere between Neil Gaiman’s Anansi Boys and the creators of a grievously short-lived show “Dead Like Me” lies Christopher Moore’s A Dirty Job.

The writing instantly established that it will try too hard to be funny by employing that British trick of using many more words than is necessary. The style does eventually grow on you and evoke that laughter that isn’t “out loud”, but does lighten up an otherwise grim and rainy morning.

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Ballet Genius: A Review of Eifman Ballet of St. Petersburg.

eifman-ballet-playbill.jpg

I came to Boris Eifman’s Gala Night completely prepared to fall unconscious. I was sick, sleepy, and my aunt, whom I haven’t seen in months, was the only real reason I was there. We crammed into the tiny seats not far from either the back wall or the ceiling of the New York City Center on West 56th Street and allowed people to step all over our feet as late comers tried to shuffle to their seats before the curtain came up. The show was sold out.

It is very difficult to tell a story with ballet–the audience should know the plot and then read it into the dance. This is why I often fall asleep or at least find my mind wondering while enduring the art of ballet I have to remind myself took the dancers years to perfect. Eifman reinvents the ballet with each new production and makes it clear that it is not a one-dimensional performance to be enjoyed only through hyper-cultural snobbery.

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A slap of grime with a side of murder and endorphins: Review of “Perfume: The Story of A Murderer”

Without any prior inkling of what the plot may be aside from what the title provided, I entered the theater and was overwhelmed by the filth on screen. Literal filth that is, of the maggots and fish guts variety. The dirt and refuse of Paris in the 1800’s. Despite my body’s better judgment, with flies flying over rat corpses so close to my face, my jaw dropped, and stayed dropped, all the way to the end of the movie.

The plot is filled with twists and a lot of it is a wonderful example of “show, not tell” that is preached by creative writing teachers everywhere and should really be exercised more often in film. There is dialogue and there is even a narrator, which gives the movie it’s fairy tale essence, but the main character is a man of few words and the most moving scenes are silent.

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Fun with sex and death among Cali teens: Review of “Wassup Rockers”

wassup rockers

Brought to you by the maker of “Kids”, Larry Clark, are seven Latino teenagers in a documentary-like take of what would happen if they went from South Central to Beverly Hills, in his newest movie “Wassup Rockers”.

These teens “from the ghetto” chose the Ramones over 50 Cent, tight jeans over huge pants, and skateboards over guns. To an energy filled soundtrack, the camera follows their lives for 24 hours as they are hassled by absolutely everyone, shot at, chased by dogs and police and constantly seduced. The 15-year old Jonathan has his shirt off more often than not, and one gets the sense that his barely pubescent body is being sold more than his story.

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