Clayton Crain is one of the few talents in the industry that can really pull off digital painting style without making it looked forced or too slick. He's also one of the few talents that can really pull off a messy yet simultaneously clean approach to his layouts, making things look murky in their gore yet also telling an easy to follow story.
What do you think of when you think of luxury? It's a strange thing to define in the wealthier parts of the world in the 21st century seeing as so many elements of comfort have become de rigueur in most places. If you went into a hotel room and found anything less than hot and cold running water, an in-suite toilet, electric lights, climate control and a telephone, would you consider it proper lodging? These days, of course not, but for the first fifty or so years of its run the original Savoy Hotel in London was considered a place of innovation for being the first hotel to implement all of those things in its standard rooms. Indeed, the very things we have come to associate with hotels began at the Savoy, mostly between 1900 and 1945. It opened in 1889 as a companion to the famous Savoy Theatre where the wildly successful musicals of Gilbert and Sullivan premiered. It was a favorite leisure destination for such people as Oscar Wilde and Charlie Chaplain. Monet and Whistler made paintings of the view outside their windows there. But for our purposes, the most notable celebrity associated with the Savoy in London is Ada Coleman, the woman who first presided over the Savoy's illustrious bar.
Well, it's unfair to give the Savoy bar's glory just to Coleman, though she did make it the cocktail capitol of the world very early in the history of the mixed drink and paved the way for a very important yankee, her successor Harry Craddock. Together these two invented or popularized some of the most famous cocktails in history.
Ada Coleman's most notable contribution is the Hanky-Panky. It's a cocktail of a bygone era that you may be able to find in what I'd refer to as a proper bar. See, it's pointless to ask a talented bartender to make you something so simple you could (and do) make it yourself. It's better to aim for mixed drinks that use ingredients and tools you probably don't have much incentive to keep on hand at home. Take, for instance, Fernet-Branca. It's a somewhat obscure and very potent digestif hailing from Italy, more or less grape-based brandy with a whole slew of herbs and spices. Fernet-Branca comes from an age when intense distillates were used more often as medicine than as indulgences, which explains why there's really no effort to make the stuff palatable beyond a few drops. Used like bitters, Fernet-Branca gives a distinct perkiness to cocktails, turning Ada Coleman's sweet vermouth variation on the classic martini into a real ass-kicker of a drink. The Hanky-Panky truly tastes antique and it started a long tradition of creative cocktail recipes at the Savoy.
The Savoy wouldn't share its amazing cocktails with the world beyond the Thames/Strand corridor until a Prohibition-hating fellow named Harry Craddock left the States and became a barman at the hotel, eventually taking over for Ada Coleman. Craddock's presence was so transformative to the Savoy that they branded their bar The American Bar, thanks mostly to the association between America and cocktails. Craddock had hundreds of drink recipes, many of them his own invention. It's quite likely that he invented the White Lady and while it's certain that Craddock didn't come up with the dry martini we do know that he was the first and most respected advocate for that now-standard variation. It was Harry Craddock who created the Savoy Cocktail Book, which is still a barman's bible today. The SCB first hit shelves in 1930 and has been reprinted several times since then. If there's any justice in this world, people will be taking that text with them to space colonies.
If I believed in biblical things, I would say that this is the time of Job in my life, but on a much-smaller scale. Maybe I am operating under the principle of Murphy’s Law, which states that, “Everything that can go wrong will go wrong.” I’ve decided to take a cautiously optimistic approach to life and my spell of minor troubles and believe that if the universe is indeed dishing me a few too many sides of bad luck, I’m going to take it as a semi-positive sign and believe that at least I am somewhat important- being totally ignored by the Fates would be worse, wouldn’t it?
My troubles are the same as everyone else’s- the only difference is that they all came at once. My hard drive unceremoniously crashed on my computer, a week later my e-mail was hacked, my car decided to make enough funny noises that I was reduced to taking public transportation until I could afford to get it fixed, my wallet got stolen by a seemingly friendly backpacker, and when I got angry about the BS, someone close to me started judging me a little harshly- I wasn’t dead, I still had all my working parts, and I wasn’t on death’s door, so what could possibly be the problem?
I don’t know what my problem is- I used to be happy- things used to run a little more smoothly, and I was a generally happy person. I’m not necessarily unhappy now- just going through the normal bullshit that is life and getting a little aggravated sometimes.
Thankfully, I haven’t yet taken a total turn to the Dark Side yet- I’m still smart enough to listen to Yoda when I can decipher his poor grammar. I’m not bitter yet, either. Maybe I’m not old enough yet- I’ve had enough bad things happen to me and have lost enough of myself to mourn, but whenever I feel the bitterness creeping out, I try to turn kill it off fast.
What do you do when the crap starts hitting the fan? Do you duck and run for cover? Do you yell at the Life, The Universe, and Everything (thanks Douglas Adams) or do you pretend that nothing is wrong and wait until your internal organs combust one day? Do you tell your friends and neighbors what’s really going on as you fake a smile throughout your day? If you need a place to vent, I suggest ranting online. Just don’t get fired like the Waitress who got a bad tip.
The Williamsburg Winery in historic Williamsburg, Virginia has been cultivating vines since 1985. While its products don't yet stand up to the best of American viticulture (for that you'll have to look to California and Oregon), now is actually a great time to taste what the state of Virginia has to offer. It's easy enough for wine lovers to find the finest, most refined bottles in the world. It's another thing entirely to taste a great wine of the future in the middle of its maturation. That's the current appeal of Williamsburg Winery. It is the flavor of a wine that is soon to be stunning.
Today, the Williamsburg Winery produces a modest amount of both red and white wine, primarily using Merlot grapes. They have 25 bottle varieties, many of them blends. Honestly, most of the only worthwhile attraction currently among those 25 are the limited reserves that make the best of their fertile soil and oak barrel aging. Most of what the Williamsburg Winery bottles can be best described as local table wine, lacking in the complexity and character of older, more exacting wines. Despite the best efforts of Thomas Jefferson, Virginia was never much of a grape-growing region. Tobacco took up much of the state's farm land for luxury products. If it weren't for some of the more promising vintages at Williamsburg, it would be tempting to write off Virginia as a bad locale for wine.
Of Williamsburg Winery's white varieties, only one really stands out as potential winner. Their James River is, surprisingly, a blend that has a lot of fun notes in it. Its mild dryness sets the stage for a nicely matched floral note and citrus note, like lavender sprayed with fresh lemon juice. It practically begs to be paired with light, flaky fish or the summery side of Mediterranean cuisine. Given time to perfect the balance and focus the finish, the James River white could be a real commodity.
The same cannot be said for the winery's top-selling Governor's white or its attempt at a barrel-aged white in its Seyval Blanc. The former is a roundly unpleasant experience, starting with its disconcertingly sour nose and finishing with a lingering, unnatural aftertaste. Meanwhile, the Seyval has no character whatsoever. It hits the tongue with a momentary sting and then disappears completely, overshooting its mark in a quest for a refreshing arc.
Williamsburg Winery's reds fare a bit better. The economical Two Shilling red will be almost laughably sweet and fruity for most red wine drinkers, though it does rather well as the base for sangria. For a more middle-of-the-road red, the J. Andrews Merlot is a varietal that sports a leathery undertone without much complexity on top of it. It might do well with lamb or as an alternative to beer with grilled foods. If one Williamsburg red is going to go places, it's the Gabriel Archer Reserve. It has a near perfect body with a classic three-note flavor of blackberry, oak and fire. If one must drink Virginia wine with steak, this is the one to choose.
Lastly, steer clear of Williamsburg's dessert wines. The Vin Licoreux varieties are especially egregious, attempting Framboise flavors and getting only sickly sweet syrups for the trouble. Dessert wine requires gentle frosts or stable brandy, neither of which are hallmarks of Virginia.
Dr. Octagon
The Return of Dr. Octagon
(OCD International, 2006)
Sporadically surfacing, Keith Thornton (a.k.a. Kool Keith) releases an album with a bizarre title or concept, receives his praise and then soon after disappears for a time. The impetus for the Dr. Octagon character, only one of Thornton’s many guises which also includes the Black Elvis, may well be somehow tied to a traumatic childhood experience – and that conjecture is really just as crazy as the character. Dr. Octagon himself is a less than savory sort, but oddly enough on his second recorded effort decides to include a track about the environment being destroyed and an explanation of how human beings are very similar to ants. Regardless of the eco-friendly subject matter being broached, Doc Oc is accompanied by production from three German minds that make up One Watt Sun. The raps lean against robotic, eighties beats that occasionally incorporate a bit of strings or a dusty jazz sample. Musical setting aside, Doc Oc continues unleashing his share of surprising and warped lyrics. He mocks those who aim to emulate Al Green or Tracy Chapman, then shifts focus and begins a short narrative about obtaining a truck to make some obscure delivery. The Return of Dr. Octagon is everything that one might expect from the mind of Kool Keith and also probably a bit more than what is expected from most hip-hop that currently passes for creative.
Passage
The Forcefield Kids
(Anticon, 2004)
Everything from Anticon has an undeniably cohesive style. This release from Passage (Restiform Bodies) has that feel and a little style on top. The Northeasterner transplanted himself to Oakland a few years ago and has since been involved with Anticon: spreading the gospel of oddity. Again, Anticon doesn’t specialize in hip-hop. The collective specializes in exploding the boundaries of said genre. Passage doesn’t necessarily rap, he sings and strums a guitar a good part of the time. Although the guitar playing is accompanied with myriad burps, gurgles and hums of electronics, one can most certainly hear the folky influence in the music. The album itself flows well. With any hip-hop or electronic recording a test for competence is the ability of the producer to meld each track together to create a seamless breadth of work. The Forcefield Kids possesses a singular vision of sonic textures, thanks to Passage. While this slab does not sound specifically derivative of one artist/group the closest relation may be Beans and his first solo full length Tomorrow Right Now. Sometimes the boom-bap doesn’t sound like rap, but more like electronic punk. The album starts off with an unsettling instrumental and proceeds to offer similar sonic settings throughout. Often times Passage does not rap, but sings portions of the verse only to explode with section of raps (“Lost in Boston with a head full of Zanex”). When verses are understandable they’re interesting, but occasionally between the raps and bizarre production a track becomes trying (“Put together/Play/Red Ferrari calendar blob”). This is an amalgam of sounds, only for the advanced listener, but certainly an apt introduction to Anticon for the uninitiated.
At the end of a long, hard night drinking out on the town, it’s likely that you will have at least some alcohol on your body, your top, your jeans, your purse, your man-bag, your Iphone, your Ipad, or whatever else you might happen to have with you. If you aren’t going out, however, and would like to pretend that you’ve been out for a wild night on the town in order to impress your friends, you can now use Zirh’s booze-inspired scented soaps.
We can all thank our lucky stars that Zihr has a few different choices in their booze soap line. For those who prefer an Asian scent (or a Sake cocktail), you might want to try out the Sake Bomb, which supposedly smells like Lemon Grass and retails for a ridiculously expensive 15 bucks. Those who are more serious drinkers and like a little more bang for their buck in a cocktail might like the Zirh’s Long Island Ice-Tea soap, which reportedly smells like a combination between citrus and cola. YUMMY! The Screwdriver (unsurprisingly) is marketed as having a citrus-like scent.
Despite the inclusion of the cocktail names in the soap’s names, the Zihr website doesn’t say anything about whether any of the soaps smell like alcohol. A lot of specialty soaps smell like alcohol anyway, so it truthfully would not make much of a difference. If the alcohol scent is really important to you, you could probably put a little vodka in a spritzer bottle to spray on yourself when you feel the need. A warm Sake Spritzer could also do wonders to perk up tired skin and make you feel like you are out boozing when you’re at home or in the office.
I have a hard time imagining that the booze soaps will have much value to anyone beyond novelty. As to whether or not the cleverly-named soaps are worth the 15 dollar price tag each is definitely questionable- that’s a lot of money to pay for a single bar of soap. That said, I do think the Zirh soap would look sufficiently nice enough in a glass soap dish to dress up a single guys’ bathroom, which always goes far in impressing in any single ladies that might be around because we all know that how a soap looks and is marketed is much more important than whether it actually cleans well, smells nice, and produces nice suds.
She says "No no no no," pulls it back up, and turns away. Again - that's a pretty clear sign of not giving consent. Saying "no" and putting your top back on.
But somehow she ends up on the Girls Gone Wild tape anyway. And when she sues? The jury finds in favor of Girls Gone Wild.
WHAT.
Incidentally, there is a lot of talk of "the hand" or "a hand." One article identifies it as a female hand. I have seen the footage (thanks to - choke - Fox News) and it looks to me like:
A) A male hand
B) The hand of the person holding the camera. In other words, the Girls Gone Wild cameraman.
The phrase that's getting thrown around a lot - including by the reprehensible Fox News anchor guy in that clip - is "implied consent."
Now, I agree that sometimes it's difficult to know whether or not consent has been implied. In this case, people are arguing that she implied consent because there were signs posted at the bar that the Girls Gone Wild crew would be there. The signs did not say "We may pull down your top, and by being here you agree to that." The signs did not say "All your nudity is belong to us."
A lot of this rests on slut shaming. She's blonde and pretty and wearing a low-cut top, and in a bar dancing with a drink in her hand. So obviously she deserved it. In the words of the "Fox News Analyst," she implied consent by "jiggling those breasts around." So of course she consented. Heck, she asked for it. She probably wanted it. Why else would she have been there in the first place?
Sound familiar? Yeah. The same set of rationalizations are at work here as in rape cases. I'm not saying that pulling down her top and filming it against her stated wishes (that pesky "No no no") is equivalent to rape. But it does exist on the continuum of "unwanted sexual behavior."
And it makes me wonder, how far do those little signs go? What exactly do they cover? If by staying in that bar she was implying consent to being forcibly stripped and filmed for commercial purposes, what else did she imply consent to? What if that hand that reaches out from the camera pulled down her pants?
For some reason, the fact that this case is about women and sex just throws logic out the window. But I guess it's good to keep in mind that apparently a "We are filming" sign is equivalent to "We can strip you and sell the tape for profit."
I once asked a European friend what he admired most about Americans- he said that he totally respected the ingenuity of Americans and our “Cowboy-like Mentality”. I asked him for clarification on his statement and he said he appreciated our ability to act decisively and to try new things. I just came across the perfect example of this and can’t wait to share it with him.
While the property manager was less than enthused about Mr. Kevie’s new-found entrepreneurial skills, I admire Mr. Kevie for his gumption. He not only re-opened the bar, he stocked the bar himself with beer from a local store across the street and brought in thirsty customers. His only mistake was letting the local news interview him for the story- it may be hard to believe, but police officers DO read the news as well.
If you really think about it, Mr. Kevie probably saved the empty bar from being vandalized or turned into a crack house- perhaps he should have been given a medal instead of arrested. Here’s to hoping that his sentence (if any) is light.
There is one extremely good reason not to be in China right now: Pabst Blue Ribbon beer, which is the cheap, American beer that is perfect for either poor college students or those who like to drink the equivalent of piss in a can, is not only expensive in China, it is being marketed as an exotic and specialty alcoholic beverage to the unsuspecting Chinese.
The “World Famous Spirit” that has just recently reached popularity in the United States as a cooler cheap beer option for hipsters costs approximately 22 times more in China than it costs here in the United States. One bottle of the cleverly-packaged beer retails for no less than $44 per bottle in China. Granted, the bottle looks much sexier than the traditional can that is consumed here and does come with a champagne glass affixed to the bottle, but I don’t think that the beer would be significantly tastier there.
The Pabst Blue Ribbon beer sold in China is known as Pabst Blue Ribbon 1844 and is compared to fine liquor like Scotch Brandy and Bordeaux wine in the Pabst Blue Ribbon advertising campaign; it’s possible that PBR’s effective marketing campaign has convinced the new-beer drinkers in China that PBR 1844 is actually the finest of beers.
Another factor that might help the Pabst Blue Ribbon campaign in China is that China is not known for their fine liquor. Traditionally, much of the liquor and alcoholic beverages consumed and originating from China is from grain alcohol and has a high alcohol content. The liquor isn’t usually mixed with other liquids- from my limited experience with Chinese alcohol, the taste is incredibly strong and matches the high alcohol content. Pabst Blue Ribbon, by contrast, tastes much lighter than the standard Chinese grain alcohol and probably tastes better than Chinese beer, too.
However, none of this means that the new PBR will be a best-seller in China. I, for one, am hopeful that the Chinese will be a little more discerning in their choice of beer because $44 a bottle is a bit more than anyone should have to pay for a PBR, even if it comes with a free champagne glass.
Via SLOG
