Our staff is lacking in genetic stock.

Photo realistic sculpture is some terrifying shit. No artist should be allowed to trap souls of decent people into inanimate objects just to trip people out at art parties. That being said, I have some pretty mixed feelings about Thomas Kuebler. I look at these poor beautiful souls crying behind that silicone and I can hear them crying. It almost makes me want to write a letter to god.

To make matters worse because the wheel chair bound mad scientist sculpture entitled Dr. Nighty Night looks exactly like my deceased Uncle Frank. Like so much like Uncle Steve that I fear he may be a victim of Thomas Kuebler’s art magic.

And this just puts me that much more into conflict. Uncle Frank was a vile, evil man, but he knew how to use his tongue better than anyone in the family, and I will always miss our camping trips to Trenton.

Good luck to you Thomas Kuebler, I hope you are talented with your tongue too.

-Felicia Jackson
Swellco & Swellco 22397b

Be sure to check out his site

Photos courtesy of http://www.tskuebler.com

The cardboard soldiers march over the plains of the plastic world, and find themselves…wait. Hold on… 

We play video games, we watch movies and cartoons, and yes…we play with fucking toys. Larpers, cosplayers, Con-ers, good people. We need to dress in new skins and writhe around each other like deranged, blood-soaked lizards by the sackful. Amongst us are people making proper use of time and talent to outfit us, people like the mind of Volpin Props. This dude has been producing all manner of sickness outta his garage for years now. First putting him on the map was probably the wicked sick version of the ole Bioshock Big Daddy suit. This shit was EVERYWHERE after he posted a lengthy “how to” on his blogsite. Soon after came a host of new craziness. No-one had to look very far for his Daft-Punk helmets, guns, swords and all sortsa other “other-life” candy.

The thing is, he aint the only one. There are thousands and ba-jilions of folks putting penny-to-penny, and drilling through the hours to bring out the inner child and let that little fucker roar! AWOOOOOOGA!!! It’s all almost too much to love. Folks with talent and aggressive cunning wit are casting and sculpting, putting fire to electric board and blazing up the LED’s to make truly vicious creations.

Say what you will jocko dickwads of the past mediocrity, there is no can-top to homespun creative pop-culture science, the shit is alive and seeping through all cracks of medialife, like acid through the floor grates. The thing is, the beast within all these mad creatives is growing larger, and infecting all who get a lungful of its sriracha breath. Everyone and anyone should dig through the trash for your armory, and release the dogs upon the button up crowd. Deal with that mojos!

Check out some more good shit.

A firm warning from Baron von Crumpstink (Swellco & Swellco 1117c)

All photos courtesy of http://volpinprops.blogspot.com,   http://www.kamuicosplay.com,  http://tombanwell.blogspot.com

He Captured My Image.

My Dutch friend Burnie & I were enjoying a hot day of ranching around & rolled the sleeves of soft flannel to wrangle a hard work appeal.

“Excuse me, miss, is this your cowgirl hat?”

The’lost & found’ pick up line rarely registers a second glance from me, but the sound of the voice, silk through dusty air, slid into my viscera.

This man’s phrasing, French, exquisite, roped me in:  ”Excuse me, miss, is this your cowgirl hat?”

He was beside me, among the sharp succulents, holding out my hat.

The warm air I breathed in was a sun soaked rattlesnake that went straight through my heart, into my stomach & down my legs, into my boots, shaking.

My clothes, though cottony breathable, were too heavy in his gaze.  I did not need to cover myself in front of him because he could see through them & into me anyway.

The snaps of my shirt popped open & my denim fell away.

“It is,” I responded & reached for it.

“You might want to hold onto your hat,” he said with a smile.  ”I am the type of man who can’t help but make a woman feel sexy.”

Burnie, who was also compelled to become visual cumulation the desire this man inspired, had also shed the cold covering of her clothes.

The sun lit us from inside, his eyes the moon, radiating our womanhood’s beautiful tendencies.

I took the hat & in a daze walked away.  I glanced back to have one more look at Antoine Verglas, the captor of my image.

-Tomata Fortunata  (Swellco & Swellco #69004J)

To buy “Roadtrip” & other Antoine Verglas prints:  LUSTER  ”Exclusively Curated.  Completely Collectable.”

Antoine Verglas’ image catalogue

All photos courtesy of:  http://antoineverglas.tumblr.com

 There is a great swell at the beginning, end, and middle of every fruitful moment.

Let’s not beat around the bush (seeing as it southernmost point is far from the point of this entry). We always need breasts. As preferences should stay outside while we adults converse, we need ALL types of breasts. Those of you reading this whilst shrugging or frowning, take your place on the bus stop outside of humanity (a.k.a. FUCKOFF!). So many American’s are trying to hide their need, or flake-off the truth of “bubbieneed”, for absolutely no good reason. From the excessive simplicity of “the early feed” to the seamlessly essential “morning ruffle”, breasts are not to be ignored.  And it would seem the French know exactly what I mean.

I present (after many already have) BOOBSTAGRAM! Its already fully known the people have waved the burning flag of photo-need, and communication-addicition. WE GOT IT FUCKERS…YOU POST SHIT! WE FUCKING GET IT! But when will you communicate something of  actual  means. Too-damn-late Pringos, the Joie de vivre beat ya’ to the punch! Like the much trumped “Instagram”, a few (or perhaps just one) French nubile has created, out of the fertile womb of tumblr, a service that, through many of your communiqué punch-bowls, will deliver daily cleavage prescriptive medications.

Now, I know what may be rumbling through your soon-to be-sploded heads: ”Cleavages aint tatties!”. But frankly, if your thinking that, then you are dumber than I thought. Think about it, the cleavage reveals the sublime mystery below the bra-line. That mystery is what keeps both our tongues wet with desire, and keeps those tongues sharp with the kind of phallic poetry needed to bring the unlock said mysteries. Just ruminate on that…and follow the Boobstagram.

The best way to get these is on the tweeters. Daily little surprises, coupled with unknown French messages. Who fuckin’ knows.

From the seabound vessel of Captain Martian Espresso

All photos courtesy of http://boobstagram.fr

Someone tell me this toy is gonna curse.

PROBLEM! I can afford one or two of these bitches at a time/ there are so many wicked sweet/ sexy mothafuckas to choose from/ and I’m not sure what I would do with them…am I talking about prozzies? NO! Im talking about the super-dupes, sick nice 12 inchers from HOT TOYS! Wait, that sounded like I’m talking about dildos…WHICH I AINT!?

Shown here specifically, as the forerunner of the new hyper-realistic figures from the upcoming Avengers movie, is Hot Toys S.H.I.E.L.D. director Nick Fury (portrayed by Señor Samuel L Jackson…obviously…have you seen the image above?). In all seriousness, what the Franken-fuck would I do with these things? I mean, not only does Hot Toys make nice-ass Avengers Figures (including Cap America in a costume that pales in comparison to his first movie one. I mean, this one looks like yoga gear), but they make even better versions of all sortsa Predators, AND a crazy as shit-soda Joker Figure? I want, I WANT? But what then.

Anyways. I guess its good enough just to look at them. I mean, I do want to set up a warzone in the backyard with all these mofos and battle it out. But then again, If I were to engage in that, I would have to quit my job, move in with the rents and get acne…again. Maybe Ill be an independent millionaire, and THEN I could buy all these plastic fools. I would probably have to be rich, cause these fuckers cost like 3 bones (hundreds…dumbass) each. Actually, if I’m rich, I should probably focus on getting laid first. I don’t fucking know.

Nave Zepol (Swellco & Swellco 3325b)

All images courtesy of http://www.facebook.com/hottoys

Win

Photo Realistic paintings. Both super gay and kinda epic at the exact same time. You look at them and say “wow, that looks just like a fucking photo.”

Then you get up close and realize that it’s because the painter painstakingly painted each individual pixel in order to create this huge realistic photo like painting.  You say “Wow that’s amazing.”

Then you look at 10 of them and realize they look so much like painting that you are forced to say. “Nice gimmick. Why didn’t he just take a photo?”

Then you realize everyone swarmed the free cheese and the wine is shit and you say. “This is boring, lets go to the bar.”

Now when you first walk into a gallery showing off  Mr. Joe Black you might be ready for this horrific chain of realizations to occur. But then you realize that Mr. Joe Black has taken it to the next level. His photo realistic paintings are actually composed of thousands of painted & stacked Legos, army men and buttons that are each individually produced with unique images that represents the main subject. This is some seriously rock n’ roll shit her. Gimmick boredom averted by further gimmick. Mr. Joe Black is also known for having very large cheese plates at his openings so he’s got that going on too.

Check out his site for more.

-R.E. Brown
Swellco & Swellco 64312b

Photos courtesy of http://www.mrjoeblack.com

The dark lords of Swellco & Swellco sent me a writing assignment for an art show called “Apocalypse Mon Amour”

All the assignment said was “Go into town and attend art” with an image Jpeg invite.

The show is for a duo collaboration creative team named Dr Acid & Boosher who sport serious street cred as members of the Army of Snipers (AOS) international street art collective.

I’m all about it, I find some links, their work is amazing and I’m ready to roll in, eat some fucking cheese and and impress my girlie with my big headed super brain full of mad metaphorical break downs and gallery speak. We make the date, I SHOWER (real talk) comb my beard… do everything one would be expected to do when preparing to go to an gallery opening. About an hour before we leave, girlie asks “so where is this?”

“uhh…”

Don’t worry babe, I’ll map quest it. they said “down town” so I’m thinking it’s a train ride to Manhattan. It’s in Switzerland. Yes Switzerland, a small town on the French/Swiss border called Yverdon les Bains. Seriously? Seriously. This is who I’m leaving my job at Urban Outfitters for. Ugh.

Be sure to check out their site

Photos courtesy of http://www.facebook.com/pages/TOYSREVIL/337036405404

Ride her hard

It seems like we’ve been on a quest for a naked girl skate deck that exists as more than just a web pr stunt for quite some time now. I feel like it’s a valid quest to be on. Sadly, where the epic Swedish failed, the French succeeded.

The French design company Boom-Art rolled out these sick decks designed by illustrator Alain Aslan. They aren’t a 5 in existence limited edition or a one off just fake candy for the blogosphere. These babies can be purchased by any pervert baller who has a mere 98 Euros to spare. Getting a perfect ass on a perfect deck like the “Brigitte” deck shown above is worth every penny. (about $45,00.00 in American money)

I know, I know what you are thinking. They are French, therefore un-American. True, the French King went to war against Freedom Fries and battled for Sadam Hussien. True they sided with terror back when Bush was trying to rid their country of death camps. True they mislead you by looking really hot, and then smelling really bad when you get their pants off, but we as Americans are above all of that. 2001 was a generation ago and we should put our differences behind us in the name of dope naked girl skate decks.

God bless America and God bless Boom-Art.

- Jimi Jam
Swellco & Swellco #23234b

Be sure to check out the site

Photos courtesy of http://www.boom-art.com/fr & http://fuckyeahskateboarding.com

Stranger Things Have Never Happened

If you are lucky enough to have partied on Friday night in Philly, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, that night will stay with you, because drinking for free at different galleries is something I’ll never give up; it’s an inalterable feast.  -Bill McThrill

Friday night was a random, well designed by the universe, perfect party & art storm, guided by the inalterable notion that I can do everything & be everywhere at once.

We drank across the board, judged all types of art, flashed opinions like golden teeth & never once apologized profusely.

I lost my handbag, found an old friend – a Russian Super Model & Rock Writer/Muse (pictured), gave my brain to a woman dressed as a skeleton & was given every opportunity to behave as a Lady, but chose the leafy writerly path instead.

Dancing down the Soul Train line of the artist community is where I belong, discussing tropes & bass lines, beers between bars, whiskey between beers, with Hemingway tucked tightly between tongue & cheek like tobacco.

Waking up on Saturday morning was a revelation of memory, all interconnected & swirling, that formed an ever-unfolding story/picture chain.  My mind of the night was an image from the Justin Duerr, Gallery 309, show.  Large in scale, charged by images of electricity & connected by overt themes, Duerr’s “Stranger Things Never Happened” is a way to view existence, complete with demons, spirit animals, truths, hiding places & heavy vibrations that travel, linking not only his vast body of work to itself, but to the world in which it exists.

My memories are tangible, if only connected as thin as lace, & are the outward manifestation of the electricity that charges my body, my mind & my place at the bistro, stacking saucers & continuing on, making sure that every day, something strange happens & I’m lucid enough to notice the connection.

-Lady Brett Ashley 
(Swellco & Swellco #0-684-80071-3)

Links!:  Gallery 309 is featuring more opportunities to view Justin Duerr’s art, his vision of connection & the work he did on Sundance Film Festival award winning documentary “Resurrect Dead:The Mystery of the Toynbee Tiles“ Friday, April 13 & 27, 6 – 9:30 (film at 7 PM)

Big thanks to coalitioningenu.com for supporting & promoting art!

thanks http://allrussiangirls.tumblr.com

All I wanted was a Pepsi

Here is Japanese toy maker Zapac’s amazingly Rat Fink-esk mascot S”K”UM-krun dressed up as an ode to the classic West Coast 80′s hardcore skate punk band, Suicidal Tendencies.  They already released the “pure evil” version a while back, and this is the “institutionalized” version. I guess it’s the pink hair that makes it “institutionalized.” I don’t know.

I will never forget the first time I heard Suicidal Tendencies. I was twelve years old and at my buddy Jeff’s house. Jeff was the kid with the cool dad that everyone was jealous of. Jeff’s dad was an old skater dude that had all of his old decks framed and hanging on a wall alongside finely matted hardcore posters from back in the day. Over the next five years, Jeff’s dad got me into skating and turned me on to all the classics. He was a major influence, my old man listened to Hall & Oats.

But I think there is some irony and oddity that it was a friends parent that first played me the flawless, timeless anthem to suburban adolescent angry white kid bordeom and alienation from their parents. What ever. I would try and scramble to buy one of these limited edition S”K”UM-kruns, but fuck it, I’ll probably just get hit by a bus anyway…

-Kevin Dalton
Swellco & Swellco 83473t

Be sure to check out their mas macho website, there are many treasures on it.

Photos courtesy of http://zacpac.ne.jp & http://fuckyeahskateboarding.tumblr.com