Rave Till You're Blind

Yo yo yo yo yo! Life is awesome for the following reasons:

1.Finished this book.

About 10 pages in and I stopped agreeing with Satter for the remainder of the book. His anecdotes are imitable, his suspicion, blinding, and his thesis, inconclusive. He purports from the beginning that administrative ineptitude, corruption, and a resulting moral vacuum in Russia's "soul" (bullshit) are responsible for her inevitable rule by dictator. We belabored this same argument in Soviet Union in WW2 and it still nags me, begging the questions 'Is Russia really doomed?' and 'Are we as doomed as Russia?'


2.Started this book.

After seeing the movie and reading the script, I bought this and 2 other of Irvine Welsh's novels, Glue and Porno, the follow-up to Trainspotting. I'm on page 43 and the plot is up and hoppin' already. The phonetic Scottish slang dialect doesn't even faze me anymore. I love books!!!!


3.Got these shoes.
From Beacon's online. New guilty guilty guilty pleasure since I went to Brooklyn and shopped there 2 days later. I'm gonna whip them out for fall like whoa.


4.No longer jealous of Balenciaga.

Just when you thought Balenciaga could go no more angular, they etched from a block of vinyl these cage-like "dresses" that the ugly-no-not-model-ugly-just-straight-up-UGGZ wearer seems rightfully displeased to sport.

Unless she's wondering where her period went.

Those satiny, exposed framework pantsuits of last spring were pretty groundbreaking for a house that traditionally favors more sensual, form-following lines.

This, however, simply gross.


5.Maybe Satter was right after all.

Read about the Moscow rave that left 61 people blind!

Our America: What Independence Means to Me

by Tommy
3rd Grade

When I think about independence I think about Britney Spears. She is from a small town in Louisiana but she became famous when she was only a kid like me. She went all around the world singing and dancing for everyone because they loved her so much.

Then my mom took away my sister's Britney Spears poster and we started seeing her on the news. Mom would try and change the channel but dad said No they'll hear it at school anyway. We did hear it at school.

Billy Brandon said his dad threw out his Britney Spears CD on account of him not raising a featherbottom. And Melissa who smells and is stupid and I don't like it when she tries to kiss me said her mom only lets her listen to Hannah Montana because she's a Christian.

So as I was saying Britney Spears was independent and showing the world what America is all about. Having fun and making mistakes and repeating them after you say Oops which makes it okay. Also, she says to support our president no matter what. Our president is like Britney Spears because he is from a small town in the South and my mom also says the South is a place that time forgot about. And high-jean.

The president and Britney Spears do not have any time since they are always on TV giving speeches and sometimes Britney is asleep on the sidewalk while people take pictures. Probably because she is so tired.

Sometimes I wonder if the news is laughing at her to alleviate the hopelessless of tracing the demise of a gluttonous society whose cultural and economic heyday vanishes at the hands of a once-hailed corrupt leader.

Anyway, Billy Brandon and me would agree that independence and America and Britney Spears are very much alike since all 3 can make a comeback and everyone will love them again.

Just whatever you do, don't fall asleep while you're dancing.

The End.

Independence, Hale Yeah

I'm in Philadelphia visiting the most amazing girl in the world, my best friend Netta. Together with Andy, we've set out to malign Craig'sList with "Missed Connection" posts. We've been making eye contact with EVERYONE in an attempt to rouse a fleeting sense of communion with a stranger. Loads of fun for us! Netta and I went to Steve Madden where I met Francisco, a saucy shoe salesman who "appreciated my energy." After that we went to Penn's Landing and ate Belgian fries with the guidos who had migrated north to the birth of liberty. We lounged on a bench at Rittenhouse Square and solicited more MCs. Philly has some gorgeous Jewish men, noncommittal Nantucketeers, and fabulously svelte FabMo-Agyness Deyn wannabe couples. We walked back to West Philly while discussing The Ex-Boyfriend and the regrettable hypocrisy in knowing your garcon du jour is mid-break-up with another girl. We found ugliness travels in circles, and, like a former friend from middle school professed via Internet, "karma will be a bigger bitch then [sic] I will ever have to be."

And now we close the evening with Trevor-by-day I Married My High School Sweet Heart, the laptop genius of which formed timely electronica ballads of heartbreak (duh) and ANGST. Teenage Angst, gross!!!

Politics, Couture

Consider Karma. I've had to. In fact, one Thursday night last fall I labored over conceptualizing Karma into clothing. It was ultimately a waste of time.

I'd already conceived French Dub Thriller, a fall/spring play on color, pattern, and cinema. Movies are kind of like Karma, right? Wrong. They kissed my ass in the interview then told me they'd seen it before. To be exact, they'd seen it after. Same with Deviant, my last year's Lunar Gala collection. Two weeks ago in Brooklyn I bought Forever 21's take on my naughy nautical boatnecked frock.

Perhaps, like politics, art has to shock people. A female and a black person compete for controversy. A college freshman designs and constructs a clothing line that gives form and prettiness the bird. Big. Ass. Deal.

Cinema goes much further than it used to in shocking people. Instead of paying a nickel to see "Reefer Madness," Netflix "Kids". You'll feel much worse about life after. This season's runway takes itself seriously, perhaps to exemplify its comparative maturity to Hollywood celebreality.

So French Dub Thriller "wasn't conceptual enough", in other words, "too obvious". After hearing this, I decided to make a movie instead. This wasn't obvious enough. But in filmmaking that's called obscure and people love that.

French Dub Thriller is evolving similar to my musicmaking abilities. Mashups have become electro-hip-hop-glitch-rock compositions, and today I designed the French Dub Thriller Lazy Jumper and Portal Gown.

Turns out Karma really is a bitch.

Making Beats

I'm glad I'm not a Republican. I'd spend so much time defending myself.

---

I'm working on my 2nd album, all original instrumentals. So far it's sounding half reflective, half glam. Works.

I put up a new mashup @ myspace.com/sassyjjjones. Check!

Disproportionate Fervor

Unfortunately I've been thinking about art lately. Not to say I don't enjoy it, art itself, the seeing and smelling and feeling of it, that's wonderful. It's ruining it entirely through dissection, just like with a poem, that's a tad nauseating.

Let me start by saying, any college-aged girl who thinks she's cosmically linked to Edie Sedgwick is likely on as many drugs as she was.
Hello! Everyone does drugs in college. Lots of them. Then they make shitty art about it, fail out, and die cold and naked in the street.
Factory Girl, IMDB-styles.

So please can we not doom her to the same fate as the Spears-Lohans-Hiltons trifecta? Can we not Che her into an "icon" and recognize that she was just another Warhol peon who came in with the speedfreaks and went out with the heroin addicts?

Let's be honest. Artsy college girls are as much Edie Sedgwick as they are Andy Warhol [and as much as I'm Bret Easton Ellis]: nowhere close and perpetually en route. FYI, you won't get there by trying*. Therefore, until you die at 28--like Heath Ledger already did, so we'll cut it down to 24--from a drug overdose (not your first one, noob) AND allegedly date Bob Dylan, just go to class and continue to feel entitled and misunderstood. We all do.








*Andy quit Carnegie Mellon before he even got a grade in CSW!**



**You won't get that joke unless you go to CMU.

Evidence--List of people who resemble Edie Sedgwick to any degree:

1. Sienna Miller
2. Edie Sedgwick
3. my friend Meghan
4. no one else, especially not in "MySpace light"

Hey Girl Hey

Turns out Pittsburgh has no style, next!

I'm shocked to be alive after May 1st when I finished the semester ten pounds lighter and on the Dean's List, perplexed and rightfully exhausted.

Summer so far is rife with debauchery with friends and people growing (and losing) hair in weird places. I've newly restored contact with my ex-boyfriend, who now has a mustache that looks cool but, thankfully, he still isn't.

I went to Atlanta for literally the hottest of moments and ended up spending more time with my parents than with anyone else. They still love me and the do-well-or-die smile's as warm as ever. Georgia for 5 days rocked ass and made me yearn for my yinzer oasis.

Finally, I'm thankful for my lesbian haircut and my Republican boss who, if he doesn't know then I won't tell him, looks like Bill Clinton.