Tuesday, October 16, 2007

When Beautiful Women Make Bad Choices


Sunset Junction Street Fair, a Gathering of the Hipsters. A full on heat-fest and scrum within a 10' tall chain-link fence and wildly overpriced water and food for the newly-hungry once the sun went down.

There were an astonishing number of really cute/hot women and yes, my little woodchucks, MILFs galore. In the midst of the swarm were also girls who looked like they stepped straight outta 1979. The hair, the curves, the clothes, the look in the eye, and none of them were older than 23. There's a cosmic mystery to ponder.

Now we are waiting for Morris Day and the Time. Me and 10,000 of my new best friends. Directly in front of us is a swan-necked, alabaster brunette beauty. She has a completely non-generic profile, ringlets, a sensuous mouth. My brain is squirming like the proverbial toad. And she is with a troll who knows that He Is Going To Get Very Lucky, Soon.

I begin to notice that her skin is disfigured with utterly generic tattoos. A skull and crossbones. "California Cool" piece of art that looked like it was swiped from a 1981 O-P knockoff. She turns to face the troll. Her gorgeous hair is up over the nape of her neck.

I spot the Dog Turd Tattoo. I point it out to Karen. I ask her what it looks like. She thinks it looks like a dog turd.

I hoist the camera, set to f2.8, 1/60th sec, with a flash. I fire it. And there it is.

Monday, October 08, 2007

The Apotheosis of Che

Today is the 40th anniversary of the death of Che Guevara.

Fidel Castro has always preferred dead heroes to living rivals, and Che was no exception. To frame it in American terms, imagine the following:

• Bill Clinton and Al Gore are comrades in arms, or W and Dick Cheney. You decide. In any event...
• Bill and Al have a colossal falling out over the direction of world revolution.
• Al leaves the country with other members of his staff and cabinet. He goes to a desperately poor English-speaking country to foment revolution as an outsider—against ALL the rules that had defined a guerilla struggle. Let's say that country is Belize.
• the local inhabitants view the Army as a menace, and the presence of the outsider to be an additional threat. When the Army comes and asks "where are the foreigners?" and the villagers point. Now two threats are removed.
• Al is at the end of his rope after 11 months, and has lost 100lbs. He can barely stand for his captors, and within 12 hours he's shot through the head.

You get the drift. Now Che is dead. Fidel can orate for hours on this, and another hero is added to the pantheon. Thirty years later Che is a profitable franchise. For somebody. You can bet if it had been Mickey Mouse, the licensing rights would have been sewed up tight.