This is not OK, and it never will be. The horror. The horror. Via Fox TV DC:
About 700 clowns attended the Fifteenth International Clown Convention in Mexico City last Wednesday, where attendees set a new record. After laughing for 15 minutes, the clowns could not break the “laughing world record” but were able to break the national record in Mexico.
Clowns from the United States, Peru, Guatemala, Dominican Republic, Nicaragua and other countries attended three days of meetings, which began on 18 October, participating in conferences, exhibitions and make up competitions.
If you notice a sleeping or vacantly-staring figure in an antique photograph, it might not strike you to wonder if the subject is even alive. In the 21st century, we rarely see photographs of the dead that are not connected with crime scenes or accidents; dead relatives are instantly removed to funeral homes, where their bodies are embalmed by well-paid specialists. The Victorians, however, were not so disconnected from death, and a common practice was to have portraits taken of the recently-deceased. In these post-mortem photographs, the dead may appear in coffins, but were also quite frequently arranged among family in lifelike poses. As it was a period of extremely high child mortality, images like the ones in this video were often the only keepsakes 19th century families had by which to remember their short-lived sons and daughters:
[Here’s] a slow motion version of the Olsen Twins “Gimme Pizza?” Yes, folks, 2010 seems to be the year the internet discovered that slowing things down makes them over 9000 times better.
The slow version of Gimme Pizza is so creepy that you won’t be able to look away. The Olsens’ repetitive dance — seriously, they’re doing the same thing in every shot — is weird enough, but it’s their friends who really steal the show. I’ll be having nightmares about the “whipped cream pouring like waterfalls” kid for a week.
Three decades ago, a loathsome, worm-like parasite burst from the chest of a hapless spaceship crew member — an electrifying moment that made cinematic history, as well as the reputations of pretty well everyone concerned. Sigourney Weaver, playing beleaguered Warrant Officer Ellen Ripley, had previously best been known for a minor role in Woody Allen’s Annie Hall, and director Ridley Scott for his work in British television commercials.
The creature was designed by Swiss artist H. R. Giger based on the nightmarish creature that had appeared in his then just-published art book, Necronomicon (Masks Of The Dead), which director Scott had seen. Together the two conferred on what the parasite should look like when it erupted from its human host’s body. Giger readily admits he was influenced by another artist. “It was Francis Bacon‘s work that gave me the inspiration,” Giger said, “Of how this thing would come tearing out of the man’s flesh with its gaping mouth, grasping and with an explosion of teeth … it’s pure Bacon.”
Giger didn’t directly work on any of the sequels, and his subsequent Hollywood experiences were not always salutary. Though Alien brought him worldwide renown and an Oscar in 1980 for best achievement in visual effects, the filmmakers continued to use variations on Giger’s original creature without involving the artist. “With the fourth Alien film, they just took my creations, they used my ‘chest-burster’ and they didn’t even give me any credit. It’s offensive. I mean, one of the reasons the film became so famous was because of my Alien, wasn’t it?” The question is rhetorical. He pauses. “For the fourth Alien film, Sigourney Weaver got US$11 million. I received nothing.”
A chronicle of the life, work and mind that created the Cthulhu mythos. Featuring interviews with Guillermo Del Toro, Neil Gaiman, John Carpenter, Peter Straub, Stuart Gordon, Caitlin R. Kiernan, Ramsey Campbell, S.T. Joshi, Andrew Migliore and Robert M. Price. (Official site)
Image at left: An interpretation of Cthulhu in the sunken city of R’lyeh via Wikimedia Commons.