Educate and excite, inform and infuriate.

Devi Kroell’s “Bubble in Shiny Mango with Gold Bubbles” shoe, above, adds a freaky, dreamlike psychological element—gilt champagne bubbles ascending the back of its heel—to an already sexily teetering pair of platforms.

Working extensively in python, the Austrian-born designer, right, also fashions boots, like the one below, and handbags, a lot of them in styles that, like these designs, are completely inappropriate for the office, but that definitely let ’em know whatcha workin’ wit’ up to a light-year in any direction.

Says her bio,

As the daughter of an ambassador father, Kroell spent her childhood in Indonesia, Philippines, Singapore, Switzerland, Israel, France, and Italy, among other locales. As a result, her signature styles are easily suited to a variety of backdrops and tastes.From her original python hobo bag to her crystal-studded wooden clutches and avant-garde heels, all of Kroell’s impeccably crafted designs feature sleek, effortless shapes fused with lush, tactile elements.

Tactile, yes. I’d like to touch that.

[via Handbag Designer 101]

What’s way cooler? Is it this February 2009 cover for MAD magazine, above, titled, “Obama: The First 100 Minutes,” revealing a hyperperplexed new president in a classic “What? ME WORRY!!!!” pose, sucking down nicotine sticks by the bushel, gurgling Pepto-Bismol, and grabbing his cranium for even a moment’s sweet relief?

Or is it this dry March 2009 Vanity Fair cover, right, pushing forward a dignified, confident, fossilized, stuffy Obama, complete with bland taupe background, shot in a style that seems as dated as Obama’s presidency is fresh?

As even the fastest walk-run past a newsstand reveals, everybody’s sticking Obama on their covers, even if they have absolutely no reason to do so. I can hardly wait to see Expert Bowler Today, Black Mother Magazine, and Stutterers Digest get in on the action.

And speaking of getting in on the action, how mega-lame is it for Vanity Fair to front a front by using the exact, same, leftover shot they ran back during the American Express RED Africa, 20-person multiple cover back in July 2007? And how come The Huffington Post, raving over the cover, didn’t notice this? Tih-zired.

Mad: 2. Vanity Fair: You get nuh-ting!.

I’m as interested in correcting fake history as the next guy, and, sure, in her paintings, Martha Washington looks like she was never any other age than 70.

But in this image created by portraitist Michael Deas, above, oddly enough, the mother of our country looks like one in the endless parade of 24-year-old white trust fund chicks who overpopulate New York City.

This likeness, says the artist’s web site,

was based primarily on a computer generated age-regression image created by an Louisiana State University forensic anthropologist. Contrary to popular belief, Martha Washinton was not a dowdy matron, but a witty, astute, and ardent patriot who followed her husband into battle, even encamping with him during the bitter winter at Valley Forge. The portrait is the Nation’s first glimpse at what Martha Washington looked like prior to her marriage to her famous husband.

I’m gonna send ol’ Martha a query letter and some of my clips.

Here’s something you don’t see every day: A picture of Earth from space while a solar eclipse is taking place. During this phenomenon, the moon comes between the Earth and the sun. In certain positions, the moon blocks the solar disk almost perfectly, casting this moon shadow upon our planet.

Somebody should put a giant, quadrillion-ton raw steak on that Earth. It’ll bring down the swelling.

[via current.com]

The birth of Wolverine: Hugh Jackman in X-Men Origins: Wolverine

I went to see Notorious on Wednesday—an a’ight film about the astounding Biggie Smalls—before my panel at the Brecht Forum.

During the previews, they ran the trailer for X-Men Origins: Wolverine, above, out May 1st.

Now, blogs work by connecting readers to content on the web, much as I’ve prospectively done by linking the name of this film to a 480p QuickTime file of its trailer. We do this in order to inform our audiences, and build traffic for our sites.

So, I’m going against all standard blogging protocol when I say the following: Please do not click on that link.

Instead, find a theater where they’re showing the trailer for X-Men Origins: Wolverine, and see it in all of its widescreen, multitrack stereo glory, as I did. When the clip was over, to put it simply, my mouth was literally hanging open. (Not even a brief appearance by presidential troubador Will.I.Am, as mutant John Wraith, could spoil my delirium.)

I’ve gotta admit: After three X-Men films, I was sure that 20th Century Fox / Marvel had gone to the well one too many times with this one.

Dead. That.

Trembling at the toxic and terrifying sight, above?

Everybody knows what these two substances can do in combination with each other. That is, throw down a mouthful of Pop Rocks. Then, chase it with several gulps of soda. Wave goodbye to your family and your record collection, because your stomach is about to explode, killing you.

Really?

Andrea and Julia Ditkoff, 12 and 10, respectively, had a lot of questions like that one:

Why do you get a headache when you eat ice cream too quickly?

What’s that small, dewdrop-shaped thing in the back of your throat?

Why do people hiccup?

…not to mention the one that forms the title of their mother’s new book, Why Don’t Your Eyelashes Grow?: Curious Questions Kids Ask About the Human Body, by Dr. Beth Ann Ditkoff.

In fact, they came up with all the interrogatives Dr. Ditkoff uses in her text. She thought her daughters’ queries were, indeed, provocative, but commonplace. (That combining Pop Rocks and soda will kill you is a 30-year-old, urban myth.) Other children, and other adults, would want to hear the answers.

They will: Dr. Ditkoff is the guest today on my WBAI-NY / 99.5 FM radio show, NONFICTION, this afternoon, Friday, January 30, at 2 pm ET. We’ll be speaking with her, live, on the air, during the first half of the hour. Then, during the second half, we’ll take your calls over our master control studio line: (212) 209-2900.

You can listen to this thoughtful writer / physician’s ideas by tuning in at 2 pm. If you’re outside of the New York tri-state, check out our stream on the web. If you miss the live show, dig into our archives for up to 90 days after broadcast.

I’m not really clear on who’s the creator of this not-for-sale take on the classic child’s teddy bear, above. They’re prolific, though, as these sister creations make obvious. Hey: Which one’s your favorite: The cat that didn’t quite escape a fast-moving Oldsmobile, a tiger apparently having buyer’s remorse, or, again, the teddies that didn’t quite separate correctly in Mommy Teddy Bear’s womb?

[via Gizmodo]

I’m doing a couple of public events tonight and tomorrow, here in New York, and would love to see you in the place.

• First, tonight, Wednesday, January 28, at 7:30 pm, I’m at the Brecht Forum in discussion with cultural anthropology doctoral student / blogger Michael Partis (Ambitionz as a Writer) and writer / poet Anika Lani Haynes, for a talk titled “Biggie, Brooklyn and the World: Conversations on the NOTORIOUS.” It’s in part a response to the eponymous new biopic on the Notorious B.I.G., the powerful hip-hop vocalist who, after releasing two astounding albums, was murdered in Los Angeles in 1997, at the age of 24. (That’s actor / rapper Jamal “Gravy” Woolard, above, as he portrays the artist in the film.)

Say the promo materials:

With the release of Notorious, once again the famed rapper NOTORIOUS B.I.G. has taken center stage in the consciousness of the hip hop generation. Tonight our panel of experts will examine the film as well as the living contradictions of Notorious B.I.G. How do we understand Biggie’s relationship with Lil’ Kim and Faith Evans inform conversations about overall relationship between Black men and women? How does Biggie’s life play out hip hop in the age and crack? And finally in what ways does Biggie’s career mark the end of hip hop era and the presence of Black death? “Biggie, Brooklyn and the World” will bring all of these elements together in a conversation on hip-hop, past, present and future.

There’s a suggested donation of $6-$15, but no one will turned away.

The Brecht Forum is at 451 West Street bet. Bank and Bethune, (212) 242-4201; click here for directions.

• Then, tomorrow night, Thursday, January 29, Tekserve, New York’s preeminent Apple retail and repair shop, will be hosting the third in its ongoing “The Future of Music” series of panels, examining the way technology is rapidly evolving the entire realm of audio entertainment. Guests will include Sadat X (vocalist, Brand Nubian), Claudia Gonson (pianist/drummer/backing vocalist, The Magnetic Fields), Adam Farrell (head of marketing, Beggars Group), and Peter Rojas (founder of the tech blogs Gizmodo, Engadget, and Joystiq).

I’ll be moderating, and if past panels—featuring such luminaries as Chic founder Nile Rodgers, recording engineer Bob Power, and Bomb Squad producer Hank Shocklee—have been any indication, the conversation will be animated, fast-paced, and provocative. Get there, if you can.

Jackson Pollock. Full Fathom Five. 1947. Oil on canvas with nails, tacks, buttons, key, coins, cigarettes, matches, etc., 50 7/8 x 30 1/8″ (129.2 x 76.5 cm). Gift of Peggy Guggenheim.
From the collection of the Museum of Modern Art, New York City

I can’t remember the first time that I saw a picture by Jackson Pollock, right. Since I was born fewer than ten years after his death in 1956, his work seems like it was always around, if only, and mostly, as a representation of how debased “art” had become, that being an extension of what common folk accepted as modern society’s total insanity.

That said, I also can’t recall a time that I didn’t passionately love his paintings. I had to grow into Motherwell and Rothko, but Pollock always spoke to me, even when very young. Perhaps it was those wildly dripped lines which, even to a child, suggest rampant energy, and clearly convey that you are not looking at a pastural field. There seemed something bad about the work, as though the artist was misbehaving. The snob’s retort—”My kid could do that”—was meant as a putdown. But, as was often the case, those attempting to injure the artist’s reputation often found themselves unintentionally giving up mad props. “There was a reviewer a while back” Pollock once said, “who wrote that my pictures didn’t have any beginning or any end. He didn’t mean it as a compliment, but it was.” As always, they look, but do not see.

Grad school can be tough enough without you having to pull rank. But when you absolutely have to do so—like, say your semester’s final joint term paper is due, and you need to let your chemistry lab partner know whose really running thangs—pimp slap them while wearing one of these Periodic Rings from It’s No Name.

Done up with each ring’s metal’s corresponding insignia from the famed table of elements, they’re available in silver ($280), gold, above ($2,350), and, for future Nobel prize winners only, platinum ($6,600). Aaahhhh, yeah: Sumn’s ’bout to go down, and it’s exothermic.