I do not think all this is her fault.  In actuality, quite the opposite.  Her family is wretched.  Growing up under all that insanity mixed with the constant bashing from the media means it is time to run.  Seriously…pour out your gin and tonic, put on some clothes, and return the stolen jewelry on your way to your safe haven.

One of the contributing authors to Thought Catalog writes:

I know Lindsay Lohan. Well, actually I don’t. But I know the type. Lindsay Lohan is the girl who comes to your party, does all your coke, screws your boyfriend, and leaves your house in shambles. Yet somehow after all is said and done, you’re still like “Wait, when can I see you again?” You hate her for the things she does but you’re still inexplicably drawn to her. Why? Because she’s exciting. Because she doesn’t quite value her life as much as you do, so she’s capable of doing stuff you only dream about. It’s fun to see her light the match because you never could.

We’re rushing her. We want her to be okay again because America LOVES a comeback but as evidenced on SNL, she’s not ready. She still has to hit some kind of a bottom and we need to let her. SO JUST BACK UP EVERYONE! I don’t care about a lot of celebrities but I do care about Lindsay. Maybe it’s because I feel partially responsible for her downfall. Every time I click on a picture of her falling down wasted, I feel like I’m fueling her addiction rather than helping. God forbid if she ever did die, I would feel like I had blood on my hands. Of course, maybe this is me being too sensitive. Maybe the trajectory of her life has nothing to do with me or the American public. Regardless, I still want her to get better. And I’m not going to pretend that she’s sober and together when she’s clearly not.

http://thoughtcatalog.com/2012/why-we-still-care-about-lindsay-lohan/

It’s genius. The anatomy of cartoon characters… including Pacman, Roadrunner & Wile E. Coyote, Tom & Jerry, and a slightly disturbing Care Bear.

Oh, and Bugs Bunny (in case you hadn’t worked it out from the teeth…)

Take a look at the original post – and the amazing art – here.

Dear Sweetie Pie,

Baby, I’m really sorry about Valentine’s Day this year. I know I screwed up. The enthusiasm and spirit were there, but I made some egregious errors in judgment. And for that, I apologize. I really hope we can get past this and enjoy the upcoming Presidents Day, or perhaps March’s National Poison Prevention Week. But, just to be thorough, I wanted to specifically apologize for the following incidents from yesterday…

I’m sorry I used an emoticon when I texted you yesterday morning. I was hoping you’d find it silly and cute, and I didn’t realize that it would immediately shrink my penis four inches.

I’m sorry that I convinced you that “Du Hast” by Rammstein was my parents’ wedding song. That is not true. Also, heavy metal is not “considered the music of romance in my parent’s homeland.” My parents are from Brooklyn. I don’t even know what “Du Hast” is about, but I saw the music video once and I’m pretty sure it’s not love.

I’m sorry that I installed Norton AntiVirus on your computer. I didn’t realize that it’s actually far more annoying and malicious than any virus could possibly be. You have to admire their audacity, though. I mean, they’re just shameless.

I’m sorry that in the middle of dinner I swore that if we didn’t start watching the Jack Black version of Gulliver’s Travels “in the next ten minutes” that I would “literally kill myself.” I was being very melodramatic.

I’m sorry that I made you leave the restaurant before we finished eating so that we could get to the video store before it closed.

I’m sorry that halfway through the Jack Black version of Gulliver’s Travels I tried to kill myself anyway. It was really, really bad though. You looked like you were considering it yourself, actually. In fact, I’m almost not even sorry about this one.

I’m sorry about the new nickname I came up with for you. I was just trying to be cute, and I swear that I’ve never heard that word used as a racial slur before.

I’m sorry that all I got you for Valentine’s Day was $100 worth of Netflix stock. That was a mistake, both romantically and financially. If it makes you feel any better, my only other idea was to get you pair of JNCOs. And let me tell you, they are hard to find nowadays.

I’m sorry I used the “Valentine’s Day was created by greeting card companies” cliché as an excuse for my shoddy homemade card. However, this might have worked if I had given you a thoughtful handcrafted card instead of a rushed attempt at a sonnet written on the back of a Chipotle receipt.

I’m sorry I kept yelling “Hoo-ah!” constantly throughout the day, buy I finally got around to seeing Scent of a Woman over the weekend.

I’m sorry I blurted out that Clay Aiken was gay without saying “Spoiler alert!” first. I really thought you’d heard, or just intuitively knew.
I know you can forgive me for these minor, yet cumulatively substantial blunders. You know I can do better. Just you wait till the 18th — it’s National Battery Day, baby. Get excited.

Lovingly yours,

Ted

http://thoughtcatalog.com/2012/a-list-of-things-im-sorry-i-did-to-you-on-valentines-day/

Like, I don’t necessarily love all the collaborations that I’ve done; the more I work with other people, the more I realize that I want to work with myself. I’m always trying to record and produce myself, but then I just end up smashing my apartment because I’m so fucking impatient.

Interview with Lana:

British Vogue Cover Shoot

“If you find it in your heart to care for somebody else, you will have succeeded.”

- Maya Angelou

And, because I don’t do soppy, here’s your audio-romance for the day.

Well, what else would you expect from me…?

Justine: The earth is evil. We don’t need to grieve for it.
Claire: What?
Justine: Nobody will miss it.
Claire: But where would Leo grow?
Justine: All I know is, life on earth is evil.
Claire: Then maybe life somewhere else.
Justine: But there isn’t.
Claire: How do you know?
Justine: Because I know things.
Claire: Oh yes, you always imagined you did.
Justine: I know we’re alone.
Claire: I don’t think you know that at all.
Justine: 678. The bean lottery. Nobody guessed the amount of beans in the bottle.
Claire: No, that’s right.
Justine: But I know. 678.
Claire: Well, perhaps. But what does that prove?
Justine: That I know things. And when I say we’re alone, we’re alone. Life is only on earth, and not for long

McQ TAKES LONDON

We recently spotted this tartan-caped stranger fly posting McQ in Central London.

Why? McQ’s opening our first store in Spring 2012 on London’s Dover Street. And to celebrate, McQ will be showing at London Fashion Week in February 2012!

In case you missed it, see a short video of the tartan-caped stranger at work

http://www.m-c-q.com/

i’ve stood in a thousand street scenes
just around the corner from you
on the edge of a dream that you have
has anybody ever told you, it’s not coming true ?

farewell my black balloon

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I’ve been hamstrung time-wise by (a) two family birthdays, (b) yet another Random Virus, Probably Brought Home By Small Boy, And Which Required Tea, Stroking Of Hair and General Soothing Noises to see it off, and (c) finishing a book.

The latter has seen me spending the last few days getting up at somewhere between 5 and 6 in the morning to work–which thankfully, has paid off. After rattling round in my head on and off for just over a year, it’s done. Well. The first draft is, anyway. I’m not actually going to consider that for a few days.

So. While I was on hiatus, I finally managed to see Red Riding Hood.

Gosh. Now there’s a film that doesn’t know quite what it wants to say with its subtext… and ends up saying something rather icky as a result.

I also watched Labyrinth, for what must have been the hundredth time, because it is wonderful and funny – and if you look closely at the scene where they storm the goblin castle, you’ll see there are two pints of milk sitting on the doorstep. How can you not love a film which does this?

[SPOILERS]

[and seriously, if you need a spoiler warning for Labyrinth, you really do need to sort that out. Go and watch it.]

There’s something about the way these films end that bothers me. I’m not the only one, either: during a recent Twitter conversation, someone pointed out that were she in Sarah’s position at the end of Labyrinth, there’s no way she could go back to the normal, everyday world. A heated discussion ensued in which several of us debated the merits of staying in the Goblin Kingdom as Queen (and which inevitably wound up discussing David Bowie’s costume. As you do) but the sticking point was this: in the midst of Jareth’s little speech, he asks her to “Let me rule you,” – which he promptly follows up with “Fear me. Love me. Do as I say.” That’s Jareth all over for you, isn’t it?

The thing, though, is could you go back? Yes, I know it’s all about Sarah taking responsibility for her actions and discovering her power as a young woman rather than as a girl–but… yeah.

Kingdom. Magic castle. Floating bubbles with ballrooms in them. Would you go back to the real world, or would you stay put and arrange for Jareth to fall off a high tower sometime soon…?

Red Riding Hood has a similar issue, but is much more frustrating. While Labyrinth‘s Sarah is essentially finding her own identity, Red… isn’t. She decides to take on someone else’s, and hole up in her grandmother’s house in the woods.

The problem here is that the narrative is actively set up to discourage this. It literally makes no sense. Everything we have been told in the lead up to those final moments is suddenly chucked out the window, for the sake of… what, exactly? The least satisfying film I’ve seen in a long time. I’m not kidding when I say I actually sat up and shouted at the television at that point. Really shouted at it. I probably would’ve thrown something if I hadn’t known my husband would take a rather dim view me hurling objects at the household electronics…

Here’s the thing (and this is uber, mega, massively spoilery).

We already know that it’s the last night of the blood moon, and that someone bitten will become a werewolf instead of dying. We already know that Peter is the love of Valerie’s life, and they were going to run away together. We already know that Peter has been bitten. We already know that Valerie already has werewolf blood, and that this would make her stronger than previous generations of werewolves were she to be bitten…

So why, why, do we then watch her letting Peter go with the promise he’ll return someday? There’s virtually nothing left for her where she is, and we can’t even assume she’s staying for her mother, because she takes herself off to live outside the village.

Simply put, why doesn’t she go with Peter? We could have had some kind of happy lupine montage: a pair of wolves running through the forest or something. The film’s general attitude to who was a good guy or a bad guy was so cavalier that it wouldn’t have made a blind bit of difference to a man v. monster debate–they were all as bad as each other.

Aargh. Look at me: I’ve got all cross again just thinking about it.

So, I’m curious. Have you seen Red Riding Hood? If you have, what did you think of the way it ended: did it make sense, or like me, would you really rather have left it with her eating half the village (they bloody well deserve it, if you ask me.)? Why can’t the girl join the monsters?

And what about you: if you were the protagonist in either of these films, would you go home at the end…?

Anyway. My latest discovery is twofold.

Firstly, that somewhere along the line, I’ve become quite a fan of modern war films.

This is something of a surprise to me–because however much I waffle on about guns–or write about them–I’m very aware of the fact that this is in a fantasy context. If you dropped a gun in my lap, I’d probably back away…. extremely…. carefully. Because I’m not crazy. (Although yes, I have handled a few. And discharged them. Insert usual disclaimers about proper environment, qualified supervision etc etc etc). Real guns scare the living bejeesus out of me, as well they should. So. To get back to my point: wasn’t expecting to discover I actually enjoy war films.

This leads me on to the second part of my discovery: Generation Kill.

Based on the book by Rolling Stone writer Evan Wright, who was embedded with the 1st Reconnaissance Battalion of the US Marines in Iraq during the 2003 invasion, the series went out on HBO a few years ago (and before Alexander Skarsgard became better known for ripping hearts out instead of shooting people through them…)

It’s occasionally uncomfortable to watch: made all the more so when you remember that although it’s been filtered by two media, this is a real story with real events and–most importantly–real people. It doesn’t help that after a while, you find yourself increasingly remembering “Catch-22“…

On the other hand, it’s funny as hell: dark and snappy and with dialogue that’s pin-sharp (and apocalyptically sweary) and I absolutely love it.

Get some.

For no rhyme or reason, I predict the other top trends to be:

1. Shaggy:  He will make a comeback.  I know it.  I cannot post a video because they are positively filthy, just like Chevy Chase’s Christmas Vacation.  All I can tell you is I have a good feeling about this.

2. Ethical Hackers:  This is going to be the most sought after career for hire.  With the skills this puppy has, they can ward off evil swords with their defense weapon, and hide in their cozy fortress of doom.

3. Business Casual:  As in pajamas.  It is really the only way to sleep, professionally.  Ugh, he has a name tag stitched in.  Love at first sight.

4.  Censored Pajama Parties:  Invite only.  Don’t invite “those” friends.  This is a PG party, bring your biz casual’s and stuffed animals.  French braid is optional.  Gown friendly.

5.  Sock Sales Rise (AKA fetishes are exposed) :  Don’t be afraid.  Show your true colors.  It is horribly creepy, but continue to stock pile socks from Costco and hand them out, to everyone.

6.  Vintage Garb: Dress from the time you desire.  No one will think it’s weird.  Beware that you will most likely be labeled a hipster, you hip hip thing you.

7.  Furries:  This makes me uncomfortable.  See Urban Dictionary.  Get a hedgehog, name it Pineapple.

8.  Paranormal activity:  With the world possibly ending this year, I believe weird stuff will arise.  Ghosts will haunt harder than before.  Watch paranormal activity and lose sleep for 5 days…then you will really see ghosts.

9.  Leather:  This is never NOT fabulous, especially when the Olsen twins are doing it.

10.  Bad Accents:  What makes anyone laugh less?  Use a bad accent and you will literally be the coolest person in your zip code.  Hands down, the cheese is in.  ”The absolute rulllllllleeee.”

11. Horribly awkward pickup lines:  The more awkward, uncomfortable, nerdy, rude, weird, THE BETTER.  Even though those attacked may never speak to you again, at least they will have something to speak about.  In general, it is better to be a little bit of an odd duck than a  common fool.  2012 is about standing out, not blending in.

If you are single, pretend to fall in love with the first person who compliments your sparkly dress.  Pretend to be what they want you to be for the night and go crazy.  Afterwards, deny anything that you lied about…issues that could arise are the pictures that end up on Facebook, comments on Twitter, etc… Up your privacy settings ASAP.

•  If your new man, should he be so lucky to make it past the night, catches you with another guy,  say it’s the way your kind…uh…SLOVAKIANS….say hi.  Who actually knows those social norms?
• Is your waist always that skinny?  Yes, because it will be until we all die, at the end of this year.
•  Do you love me?  White lie…of course I do.  (side note: he’s crazy).

Act a fool and cut a rug.  Who cares if people make fun of you for the next 11 months?

Wear whatever you want.  Seriously, if you hate wearing pants, just don’t.  Be comfortable on this last celebratory night.

Lie the whole night or tell the absolute truth.  Either be totally fake or totally honest.  Either is more refreshing than half way.

Voice your opinion on the quality of the music.  You do not want to be dancing to B. Spears all night.

Laugh until it hurts.

Lastly,  Girls, wear waterproof mascara.  I know our kind, not including me, can get a little emotional on this holiday.  I really just don’t want you ruining my dress with your tearful confessions or sob stories.  Please let my possibly last NYE be one of peace and dancing.

He doesn’t mind I have a flat, brokedown life.

In fact, he says he thinks it’s why he might like about me, admires me,

The way I roll like a rolling stone.

Love is a battlefield

Reality will set in, and will you be ready for it when it does?  How do you prepare when you were living in a day dream state?  Will that ice cold water splash you in the face like the biggest wake up call of all?  How much will it hurt and how do you prepare?  Why is it that we must have consequence for a fantasy as a “grown up”?

 It’s a form of escapism I indulge in often, and I don’t think I’m alone here. I slip into fantastical thinking frequently, and easily, most often when spending time alone because there aren’t any external reminders of who or what I am.

Quote by Stephanie Georgopolus

Fantasy and reality are sometimes impossible to distinguish.  On one side this fantasy creates a distorted truth, and the other, possibly a much more pleasant lie.  Is there any harm in that?  What reality cannot be questioned, and who is to say a fantasy cannot become a reality?  Not even you Meredith Grey.

The fantasy is simple. Pleasure is good, and twice as much pleasure is better. That pain is bad, and no pain is better. But the reality is different. The reality is that pain is there to tell us something, and there’s only so much pleasure we can take without getting a stomach ache. And maybe that’s okay. Maybe some fantasies are only supposed to live in our dreams.

-Meredith Grey

Must a person only settle for reality and is fantasy only there to give us a stomach ache?  You decide.

It’s this one.

Yes, kids. That is the “Blood & Feathers” page on Amazon’s UK site (what’s that? You want to see the US one? Oh, go on then... I like that one too.) You may have seen it before. Perhaps you have. In that case, you should go and look again. Seriously, because I’m worried that if I take my eyes off it for a second, it’ll scuttle off somewhere and hide. And sooner or later, I’m going to need to blink.

I have a cover. And it’s, like, out there. With pictures and words and cool stuff.

There’s still one or two tweaks that need doing, so the Amazon sites are likely to update once they’re complete, but–give or take the odd detail–this is how it’ll look.

I’ve been sitting on the draft version since late September, when we’d talked about ideas for it at the Solaris offices… and then the amazing Simon Parr (who is also Pye. It’s a thing. I don’t ask. He may well be some kind of gestalt art/comics/awesome guru) went off, had a think, and came back with what you see there.

I absolutely adore it. It’s gorgeous and feels completely right and you must all immediately rush over and tell @PyeParr that he is, basically, a genius.

Keep an eye out for the final version, which I hope I can put a big, shiny high-res copy of on here soon so you can see it properly.

Flynn Rider totally approves.

Yes, it looks a bit like a skull, which is quite scary enough.

However, it’s even scarier than you think: that’s a photo of a nuclear explosion, one millisecond after detonation.

I’m pretty convinced that this is as close to it as I ever want to get.

According to the Gizmodo article which brings us this horror, this fireball is 60-some feet high, and was taken in the Nevada desert in the 1950s.

On a slightly lighter (if no less morbid) note, I recently discovered a brilliant procrastination site: 350 Ways to Die. While none of them are particularly helpful for dealing with the asshat who threw up on my doorstep over the weekend (and, believe me, I’ve got special plans for them if ever I catch them…) the site contains lists of unusual ways that people have met their ends throughout history. Some of them are less than sensible, and some of them are simply sad. All claim to be true.

One of my favourites is this one:

Sigurd I of Orkney was a successful soldier who conquered most of northern Scotland in the 9th century. Following a fever-pitched victory in A.D. 892 against Maelbrigte of Moray and his army, Sigurd decapitated Maelbrigte and stuck his opponent’s head on his saddle as a trophy. As Sigurd rode with his trophy head, his leg kept rubbing against his foe’s choppers. The teeth opened a cut on Sigurd’s leg that became infected and led to blood poisoning. Sigurd died shortly thereafter.
Publications International, Ltd.

Just because.

There’s also cases of suicide by tree and death by bestiality.

The site’s clearly a work in progress, as it has space for more articles than are listed – but if you know of a story that should be on there, they also have a submission form so you can get in touch…

Official trailer for the designer Yohji Yamamoto’s Documentary “This Is My Dream”.

S/S 2009

The One Person You Never Really Get Over by Ryan O’Connell

There will always be that one person you’ll never really get over. I know, I know, Connie Chung delivering groundbreaking news over here, but it’s true. Sure, you can go days, weeks, months, years without thinking of them but the second you see their face or their name gets mentioned in passing, your stomach drops and you feel like you could puke. You’ve lost control and all of these feelings suddenly rise to the surface to say, “Sup? Have you missed us?’ You’ll hate yourself for this, for all of it. You won’t be able to recognize why this one person can still garner this type of reaction. Why is your mind punking you? It almost feels like a betrayal. You want to give your emotions a stern talking to and say, “Um, hi. I thought we were over this? So why am I getting super nervous and spazzy at the mere mention of their name? You promised me that we were over this, brain. THANKS A LOT.

No dearest readers, I will not divulge my secrets.

But you can consider one thing to be taken care of: come the zompocalypse, if you need somewhere to hide, you’ve got options.

Ladies and gentlemen. For your most apocalyptic appreciation… the winners of the 2011 Zombie Safe House competition.

Made. Of. Win.

Here to relive your darkest moments

I can see no way, I can see no way

And all of the ghouls come out to play

And every demon wants his pound of flesh
But I like to keep some things to myself
I like to keep my issues strong
It’s always darkest before the dawn

And I’ve been a fool and I’ve been blind
I can never leave the past behind
I can see no way, I can see no way
I’m always dragging that horse around

And our love is pastured such a mournful sound
Tonight I’m gonna bury that horse in the ground
So I like to keep my issues strong

But it’s always darkest before the dawn

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh woaaah
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh woaaaah

And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh woah

I am done with my graceless heart
So tonight I’m gonna cut it out and then restart

You are the space in my bed
You are the silence in between what I thought
And what I said

The amazing Florence & The Machine.  Obsessed, forever & always.

By a choir of beautiful cheats
And as the kids took back the parks
You and I were left with the streets

Show me now, show me the arms aloft
Every eye trained on a different star
This magic
This drunken semaphore
And I

We are listening
And we’re not blind
This is your life
This is your time