soft tissue

I didn't bother to fix the semi-shitty image above, but it's a detail of a wall piece I have up at a show at Project 4 now until April 21. It's a conglomerate of things that are supposed to be like demoid cysts, which are mutated ovary cells, or something -- I've heard that the outer layer of an egg cell is the area responsible for the development of skin, teeth, hair, and nails, so when that shit mutates and goes haywire -- when it tries to turn into a spermless baby -- the dermoid cyst is the result. When I was in high school, one of my teachers took some time off to get a tumor removed, and when she came back to school it somehow got out that it was one of these, and really large. Chock full of hair and teeth, this thing grew inside of this really sweet lady for, what, like years probably. The human body's weird enough without anything going 'wrong', but stuff like this blows my mind. I know places like the Mutter Museum in Philly have a preservative bent, and historically we've been capable of maintaining soft tissue samples for thousands of years, but let's get honest -- I can never get close enough, what with the 'glass vitrines' and 'museum rules' standing in my way. Although it might make me puke, I want to handle this stuff, pick it up, maybe even cut it up. At least when I make this shit out of clay I can pretend it's real for a minute.

On the living-vicariously tip, though, there's a great special on Discovery Health now that is about a young boy from Pakistan (I think) who was born with a fully-enclosed parasitic twin. Unlike the cases where, say, a baby is born with an extra set of legs jutting out of its torso, this kid went undiagnosed for years because he just looked like a pregnant baby. That's fucked-up imagery I guess, but anyway, he underwent surgery and this monster was pulled out of his thoracic cavity. The best part of the show, by FAR, was when they brought in a pathologist and set up a sterile lab for her and she did a step-by-step autopsy of the parasitic twin. She fully cut it in half and everything. I think it's safe to say that I have the extreme desire to jump inside the TV on a daily basis. Sad but true, sad but true...however, this moment was probably the most intensely I have ever felt this totally first-world emotion. What a moment.

Fungus on a tree.

CSI:NY sucking yet again

Last season, Law and Order: Criminal Intent boasted a fine, fine supporting cast for a really twisted episode involving some maladjusted cousins who shared a penchant for rape and torture. The cousins were played by childhood-star-cum-junkie Brad Renfroe, and Ethan Embry, who was so delightfully fat he wasn't even recognizable (no, really, he carries it well). This was a brutal, brutal episode, and once again I need to applaud the Law and Order franchise for really indoctrinating a rather common practice in television character acting today -- utilizing 'washed up' stars of yesteryear in one final sweet, desperate act of NON typecasting. Even one who is not a Law and Order superfan might recall the use of, say, Christine Elise (aka Emily Valentine from NINER and Harper Tracey from ER) or Big Pete from the Adventures of Pete and Pete or, well, whoever from whatever. Point is, Dick Wolf and Co. have been doing this for years, and, like nearly every practice the franchise pioneers, they do it well. Seriously, mad props to the casting directors.

This week it came to my attention that Edward Furlong (formerly Eddie Furlong of T2 fame) was a guest star on a recent episode of CSI:NY. I didn't see the episode in question -- I mean, I despise the show and everything it represents, barring entertainment value -- but it didf make me shake my head in dissappointment, as usual. Whgen will Bruckheimer get it? 'Anything you can do, Dick Wolf, I can do better,' he taunts, but really, nothing he produces within the CSI franchise will ever hold a candle to the Wolf empire, and this has little to do with forgettable leads. Oh, wait...well, anyway, Eddie Furlong: That dude was fucking HUGE back in the day. Like, EPIC. Maybe he needs work nowadays, that's cool, but Law and Order is not distracting in its character actors precisely because they never opt for those whose careers REALLY took a tumble. Or a dive. Once again, Bruckheimer's that dude who shows up to a party with all this coke when all you wanna do is drink a beer and watch Survivorman.

And yeah, I do watch TV at parties.

nuggets

Last week, I had a really awesome dream that involved this necklace that I own. In, um, 'real life', this thing is a big plastic orange drop with creamy-looking swirls. It looks sort of like an oblong lollipop, and people often comment on this. I got it at a flea market, and its candy-like qualities are further evidenced by the presence of teethmarks (not mine) on the back side. Anyway, last week I had a dream that I found a pile of these at a thrift store, and the salesperson informed me that they were vintage candy necklaces, except if you ate them, you'd get fucked up because they were hallucinogenic. Anyway, as far as dreams go it was a pretty good one, lots of staying power there.

late to the game, but whatever, maaaannnn...

If you're not familiar with the vagus nerve, maybe you should think about getting acquainted. This wonder regulates how one's body physically expresses stress and anxiety, so whenever you have a weird reaction to an uncomfortable situation, this is the nerve to thank. I'm not going to go into any more detail about this shit, I mean, like all of my information is coming from Discovery Health channel -- which I watch purely for entertainment, I'm not on my way to med school or anything -- so I don't want to perpetuate any more possibly-incorrect info. Look it up yourself if it sounds so fascinating. My point is, though, I'm very aware of my own dealings with the vagus nerve, and this goes back...wayyyyyyy back. Check out this picture: It's my dad's workshop in the basement of the house in NJ where I grew up. Yeah, this is just a detail, but let me fill in the blanks. What you're looking at is an acid-green wall of tools that have been outlined in Sharpie so everything has its place. Not the most OCD system in the world, and further images of the basement would confirm that this is one of the rare instances of semi-order. Anyway, if one was to glance at this wall, and some tools were, you know...out of place, you'd be able to tell right away.

When I was a kid, I totally believed in ghosts, and killers who would slash up families in the middle of the night, and skulls that could talk. Yeah, there was nothing scarier -- or more possible -- than a talking skull, in my world. These are total suburban fears, the result of a somewhat stagnant environment I guess, but anyway, if there was any place where I was going to get murdered in my own house it would probably be in the sketchy-ass basement. I HATED going down there, but chores and toys and what ultimatley turned out to be the love of fear lured me down those steps on a daily basis. The thing I never understood, though, until I found out about the vagus nerve, was that every time I went down into that crazy green room, I would have to take a shit, like immediately. Only one other location had such a strong and intense effect on me at that point, and that was the bathroom of the Phillipsburg Free Public Library. At least that was logistically convenient. Turns out, this is pure science, this nerve that regulated stress is also in control of, say, sweating, blushing -- these things make sense -- and then, pooping. Anyway, cut to me, age 7, running into the basement to get some food product for my mom or a beer for my dad...I get to the fridge, confront that wall, notice the outline of tools that are NOT in their proper place. There's a hatchet on that wall, no joke, and whenever that was gone, I would quietly accept the fact that I was about to have a cold steel blade launched into my collarbone as the opening act of the Tibbott Family Massacre. Five minutes later, I would not be dead so much as dropping a deuce and flipping through a National Georgraphic. That's kind of why I'm interested in so many things.