Image Issue of The Printed Blog Vol. 2 by The Printed Blog

Simona Smrckova | http://bit.ly/eTNTDm

VOL. 4 IMAGE ISSUE $3.00

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THE IMAGE ISSUE

David Stewart | http://bit.ly/hZ7bvO TYLER SHIELDS, CO-FOUNDER AND PHOTOGRAPHY EDITOR, AND JENNY MONTGOMERY, PHOTOGRAPHY EDITOR

TYLER SHIELDS

JENNY MONTGOMERY CONTINUED…

I create other worlds, magical never-never lands where the camera is my weapon and the battles I fight are with the elements. I stretch the laws of the mind and displace people from their realities to capture a side of them they didn’t even know they had. Photography has the ability to freeze people in this time and space—no matter what happens after that moment, it cannot change—they are exactly how I want them to be.

agency websites, as well as from the thousands of people who submit their work directly to us. It is truly incredible to see it all together in one place. In this issue, we wanted to showcase many different kinds of photographers. There are photographers on these pages that have been doing this, professionally, for decades and also people who picked up a camera as a hobby and found that they were good at it. The Printed Blog is an equal playing field.

Welcome to The Printed Blog Image Issue. We are privileged to present some of the best photographers in the world. Jenny (our Chicago-based photography editor) and I take you on an exploration through a huge variety of images and emotions in this work. Please enjoy and let us know what you think! Thank you! Tyler Shields, co-founder and photography editor. http://www.tylershields.com

This Image Issue is brought to you by a love and passion for photography. Tyler and I are extremely proud to present to you the work on the following pages. http://www.jennymontgomery.com PHOTOGRAPHY

JENNY MONTGOMERY Welcome to The Printed Blog Image Issue. We took this opportunity to stretch our wings and to showcase some of the best photography in the world. We’re able to bring you photography that you’ve never seen before: photography that pushes the boundaries of what you have come to expect from print magazines. There is a wide array of photography at our finger tips; there is a never ending supply of incredible photographers on the Internet. We find photographers on Flickr and we find photographers on high-end PHOTOGRAPHY

Albert Sanchez | Model Dita Von Tesse | http://bit.ly/fAj1Lo

Simona Smrckova | http://bit.ly/eTNTDm

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THE IMAGE ISSUE

David Stewart | http://bit.ly/hZ7bvO PHOTOGRAPHY

PHOTOGRAPHY

Boris Ovini | http://bit.ly/gUGDKp PHOTOGRAPHY

JUCO | http://www.jucophoto.com PHOTOGRAPHY

Simona Smrckova | http://bit.ly/eTNTDm

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Mark Viszlay | http://bit.ly/edGaeg

RODNEY SMITH – FEATURED PHOTOGRAPHER

FEATURED PHOTOGRAPHER

RODNEY SMITH Rodney Smith is a modest man. With eclectic sensibilities. He can wear an ascot without appearing pretentious. He proclaims himself to be a closet optimist. He believes Modernism took a wrong turn at the wrong time. He thinks Freud saved his life. He graduated Yale. He lives in a wooded enclave in Snedens Landing, just close enough to Manhattan to meet an editor for lunch at a moment’s notice, but far enough away to mollify his disdain for city living. He loves books. Paper. And printed matter. He wrestles with Big Ideas and references Wittgenstein and Plato as if he saw them just yesterday. He’s tweedy. Never needy. Proud. Not loud. He’s a perfectionist. Workaholic. Worry wart and fuss budget. He won’t stop what he’s doing until he’s satisfied that it couldn’t be done any better. He’s adamantly analog. Only shoots film. Never uses special effects, And knows the darkroom like the back of his hand. His work is outside time. He creates worlds whose logic is his own. He’s old school with a twist. A landscape photographer. Who places people in landscapes. A realist who puts dreams onto paper. A man who is kind, generous and humorous. Who has a great wife. A lovely daughter. A successful son who’s made

Rodney a proud grandfather. A thinking man’s man in a bespoke suit with an eye that sees the world in a way you or I will see if it’s in the form of one of his photographs. http://www.rodneysmith.com

PHOTOGRAPHY

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RODNEY SMITH – FEATURED PHOTOGRAPHER

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RODNEY SMITH – FEATURED PHOTOGRAPHER

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AN INTERVIEW WITH RODNEY SMITH By Josh Karp | 2/5/11 I had the opportunity to speak with our featured photographer, Rodney Smith. We started our conversation by discussing his perspective on photography when he first started in the 1970s. For Rodney, there was a distinct difference between people who simply “take pictures,” and people who were “photographers.” He quickly came to believe that photographers must have something important to say about the human experience, and they must be able to express this effectively on a two dimensional piece of paper. After graduating from the University of Virginia, he attended Yale University and earned a Master of Divinity in Theology. Rodney’s study of theological didn’t bring him answers, instead, these studies taught him how to question; how to define the right questions and how to give these questions the most appropriate form. The pursuit (and presentation) of questions has influenced Rodney’s work from the very beginning. Rodney doesn’t teach a lesson with this images; he doesn’t try to send you a message, and he doesn’t try to give you any answers—he only gives you the question. Rodney shows you the beginning of the story, or its end—leaving you to wonder about the rest. This is an important value of his work, and it’s why people return to it again and again. Rodney’s production methods are critical to his ability to articulate his questions. When Rodney first started, again, back in the early 70’s, he forced himself to develop an extraordinarily rigorous photographic production process. He spent hundreds and hundreds of hours learning the craft. He required mastery of the production process to ensure that each artifact communicated clearly and perfectly. Rodney is a materialist—he intently creates artifacts of a sufficient quality that people will collect them, and come back to them. He obsesses over each and every detail. Rodney approached photography in the same way that people pursued painting in the 17th and 18th centuries—with a meticulous care that only delivers flawless results. Nearly all of Rodney’s photography is shot with available natural light—he is extremely sensitive to the use and impact of light in his work. Rodney sees different natural light depending on where the shoot is occurring – in Holland, for example, the light is hard, and penetrating, in Los Angeles, however, it is very diffuse, delicate and graceful. I asked Rodney if he had any advice for aspiring photographers. He first recalled something that master photographer Inge Morath told him, many years ago. He asked her how one succeeded as a photographer, and she replied, “if you’re good, there’s always room,” and this has held true throughout his career. Rodney doesn’t believe that talent is the problem for photographers—learning how to express one’s feelings, and how to translate them onto paper—that’s a much more difficult proposition, and one that most photographers do not achieve. People who are not equipped to develop and nurture their own feelings will not take great photographs. They must overcome their fears and insecurities, and be willing to put their feelings on the page. Rodney concluded, “Your heart drives great photography.” Tyler, Jenny and the entire team at The Printed Blog is thrilled for the opportunity to showcase some of Rodney’s work, and to give you a brief look into a master photographer’s life. In addition to the work on the preceding two pages, please visit www.rodneysmith.com to see more than 4,000 of his photographs. RODNEY SMITH BIOGRAPHY

Rodney Smith graduated from the University of Virginia in 1970. He went on to earn a Master of Divinity in Theology from Yale University in 1973. Along with his personal work, Mr. Smith has been commissioned to do assignment work for clients such as American Express, IBM, H. J. Heinz, Merrill Lynch, Morgan Stanley, the New York Stock Exchange, BMW, Starbucks Coffee, MCI Worldcom, VISA, and The New York City Ballet. In addition to this corporate and advertising work, his fashion clients include Bergdorf Goodman, Saks Fifth Avenue, Neiman Marcus, Ralph Lauren, and Ellen Tracy. Editorial clients include The New York Times Magazine, W Magazine, Vanity Fair, Esquire, Fast Company, and Bloomberg Personal. In 1975 he received a Jerusalem Foundation Fellowship which enabled him to live in Jerusalem for three months. This work resulted in his first book, In the Land of Light, published by Houghton-Mifflin Company in 1983. His second book, The Hat Book, was published by Nan A. Talese/ Doubleday in the Fall of 1993. Currently, Mr. Smith is working on his third book. He lives with his wife and daughter in Snedens Landing, a small community on the Hudson near New York City.

SINGLE WHITE FEMALE: VULNERABLE AND ALONE By Steven Kobrin | 1/25/11 | Cinethons

http://bit.ly/dYrijb

Tales of the unexpected are the most satisfying types of thrillers the cinema can provide. These are rare exceptions to the standard fare, and they tend to deal in curious premises, and at times what might best be described as highly stylized subject matter. Who gives a shit? After all, isn’t part of the pure pleasure in disconnecting from reality and engaging in a cinematic escape, suspending our disbelief? I believe it is. Now, we have to stop and consider for a moment that great directors with loftier ambitions than merely making an unconventional thriller have tried to weave magic and reinvent the cinematic wheel with movies that are totally pretentious. Therefore, what is the moral to this story? Never underestimate the power of a great thriller when it’s conceived and delivered by a stylish and intelligent director. Often times, it pisses me off when certain “great” directors who will remain nameless are interviewed and asked, why they haven’t helmed a thriller. The responses always disgust me because they are condescending in their remarks as if the thriller were a genre that was completely beneath them. How big an asshole does one need to be to fully embrace and realize that the thriller is probably the purest, most visually dynamic type of cinema that exists? And furthermore, the greatest film director in the history of movies, Alfred Hitchcock, was the foremost thriller specialist, and he happens to have loved the genre. Why? Because Hitchcock was savvy enough to realize from the beginning when he was working in silent cinema, that the greatest way to engage, stimulate and provoke audience participation in the cinema is by making thrillers. They simply lend themselves to the medium of film by the very nature of their scenarios. So if Hitchcock viewed thrillers with this much importance and artful potential, shouldn’t we all? In any event, the movies are a richer place, not just because of the countless thriller masterpieces Hitchcock left behind. Also, for the wonderful cinematic potential the movies have to just spin a great yarn by utilizing the thriller format. With clever direction and a game, winning cast, you have a better-than-average chance of executing a picture that is actually worthwhile. Is there a downside? Everything has a downside, and in the case of thrillers as a whole, it has to do with the fact that there are approximately half a dozen plotlines which have been done to death where the movies are concerned. Therefore, the burden of originality must fall upon the writers. There have been some wonderful scripts and writers of thrillers to be sure. Would anyone deny that William Goldman’s “Marathon Man” (1976), Christopher McQuarrie’s “The Usual Suspects” (1995) and David Koepp’s “Panic Room” (2002) are not three of the most original, nerve-shredding thriller screenplays of recent years? Therefore, it all comes down to the better the material, the better the chances are of creating an excellent movie. In the early nineties, this was definitely the case when screenwriter Don Roos adapted a novel by John Lutz called “SWF Seeks Same,” and the end result was Barbet Schroeder’s erotically charged thriller, “Single White Female” (1992). From the outset of the film, Allison Jones (Bridget Fonda) could best be described as being chic and intelligent, but she is also vulnerable and alone. This is not from a literal standpoint, for she has a boyfriend (Steven Weber), and things appear to be OK. That is until she realizes that he is periodically fucking his ex-wife on the side. This sets the central premise of the film in motion. Allison is a brilliant computer consultant, and she can build a career of her own, but she may have to go it alone. But rents are high on the Upper West Side of New York, so she places an ad for a roommate. Enter Hedra Carlson (Jennifer Jason Leigh). She answers the ad, and she and Allie hit it off instantly. The rapport between them is automatic, and Allie feels safe in having found someone she feels could become a close friend. Wrong. Hedra has serious issues. Traumatized by the accidental drowning of her twin sister, she is going through life like a zombie on automatic pilot, looking for a woman she can mold as a replacement for the sister she adored. So, the grim irony is laced with subtle tragedy. But Hedra takes things too far. Eventually, she begins to copy every aspect of Allison’s persona from her wardrobe to her make-up to her hairstyle and haircolor. And from that moment, things begin to spiral quite dramatically and violently out of control. There is nothing derivative about this movie at all, and it works on every level, transforming “Single White Female” into one of the most original thrillers of the nineties.

PHOTOGRAPHY

Laura Taylor | http://bit.ly/idlkt1

Boris Ovini | http://bit.ly/gUGDKp

When you look like Bridget Fonda, the fact of the matter is you really don’t have to do anything but allow yourself to be photographed and captured in the moment. She IS that beautiful. And yet, she is infinitely more appealing beyond her flawless looks because she is vastly intelligent and a versatile, chameleonlike actress. I remember seeing her in a film called “Bodies, Rest And Motion” (1992). I thought to myself that she is a dreamgirl because she is literally the full package. An absolute knockout and a magnificent performer. Other roles in “Point of No Return” (1993), “Jackie Brown” (1997) and “Kiss of The Dragon” (2001) have solidified that fact. However, her role in “Single White Female” still remains one of the three best in her career. Jennifer Jason Leigh has a far more complicated role, and she completely rises to the occasion. She asserts herself with such quiet force and understated power that when she fully transforms, and her true colors are revealed, the performance doesn’t just emerge as a great piece of screen acting. It is a total revelation. The men in this film all lend solid support, and they range from Steven Weber as Allison’s slightly dubious boyfriend, Stephen Tobolowsky as Allison’s reptilian, obnoxious boss and Peter Friedman as Graham, Allison’s caring, sympathetic neighbor. The clothes in this film fit these characters so perfectly that they almost seem to blend in like skin. It is truly eerie. Credit for this must go to the great Milena Canonero, who did equally wonderful costume design on Tony Scott’s “The Hunger” (1983) as well as three Kubrick masterworks, “Clockwork Orange” (1971), “Barry Lyndon” (1975) and “The Shining” (1980). Add to the equation Lee Percy’s taut editing and Luciano Tovoli’s gorgeous lensing, and you have a film that looks absolutely great on all its surfaces. However, the total vision for this picture must be attributed to director Barbet Schroeder. Having helmed such previous foreign and American fare as “Maitresse” (1976), “Les Tricheurs” (1983), “Barfly” (1987) and “Reversal of Fortune” (1990), he is actually one of the most fascinating figures in international cinema today. When ”Single White Female” came out, the detractors of the movie seemed to be riding Schroeder for all the wrong reasons. They claimed it was implausible and ludicrous in its premise and execution. Fonda waited too long to react to a perilous situation, and she wasn’t assertive enough. I disagree with that criticism. Vulnerable people like that do exist in this world. And sometimes, they need to be pushed to serious extremes in order to discover what they are truly made of and find themselves in the process. So let’s lay all that negative bullshit to rest, consider that Schroeder is one of our best, and “Single White Female” still remains the finest American movie of his career thus far.

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WHEN FRIENDS CHANGED A LITTLE By Kid In The Front Row | 1/11/11 | Kid In The Front Row

http://bit.ly/hwUeAt

I’m watching FRIENDS from the beginning again. Don’t you just love Friends? FRASIER was funnier, and cleverer, but it was the one about six New Yorkers that captured people’s hearts. It was Chandler whose sense of humor influenced a generation and it’s Rachel who everyone fell in love with. Say to a stranger in the street; “We were on a break!” or “Grandma’s Chicken Salad” and they’ll probably get the reference. But something changed. Maybe it’s just me who sees it but I’d imagine it’s nearly everyone. There are a lot of establishing shots of the World Trade Center. They even used them in the credits. And now, they mean something different. What they mean, it’s hard to say, but it isn’t comedy. It’s the strangest thing—you can be in the middle of a hilarious episode, and then as they transition between scenes; you might see a restaurant, a street corner, and then there they are: the two giant towers. It hits you every time. Would you want them to edit out the towers? Of course not. Does it make the show less funny? Not necessarily. Somehow, the films and TV shows that we love seem to always be changing. Our lives are always going in different directions, our relationships are always growing or falling apart or changing their meanings—why would we expect anything different from our art? The world changes. What I’m talking about, I’m not entirely sure—but almost every episode of Friends is different now—you’re hit in the gut for two seconds when you see the image of those towers. There’s something extremely sad about that but there’s also something very powerful, too. And of course, it happens in everything else you watch in more subtle ways. Every single day we’re a little bit more happy, or a little bit more angry, or bitter, or inspired, or lonely, or sad, or courageous—and when we change, so do the films and TV shows that we take on our journeys, they look a little different. PHOTOGRAPHY

Luis Sanchis | http://bit.ly/h1NvBY

ADAM FUCKING CAROLLA VS. “THE PUSSIFICATION OF AMERICA” By Heather Clitheroe | 1/11/11 | Bookslut

photo by Tom Hines for Line, a Journal, Winter 2011 (tomhines.com, line-ajournal.com)

photo by Tom Hines for Foley+Corinna Holiday Collection (tomhines.com, foleyandcorinna.com)

Founded 2008 Chicago, IL Joshua Karp, founder and publisher Tyler Shields, co-founder and photography editor Christina Trkalovska, layout editor Brandon Mendelson, guest humor editor Alessandra Torresani, contributing editor Jenny Montgomery, photography editor Stephanie Bassos, contributing photography editor Lauren Davis, fashion editor Stephanie Lindenmuth, operations and distribution Kylie Mugg, social media manager The Printed Blog Russian Edition Denis Ivanitskiy, publisher The Printed Blog Inc. 20 W. Kinzie Chicago, Illinois 60654 (312) 305-1000 info@theprintedblog.com www.theprintedblog.com twitter.com/theprintedblog facebook.com/theprintedblog

Tyler Shields | bit.ly/tylershields

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Adam Carolla is always right. He’s also always witty, always intelligent, always profound, and always full of the insights you never even knew you could hope to grasp. Adam Carolla is probably also dead sexy, incredibly suave, the most generous man in the world, and will someday cure cancer by mixing up some stuff he keeps in his fridge and putting it in the microwave for two minutes and twenty-two seconds. Sound about right? It should—if you happen to be Adam Carolla. The rest of us remain unconvinced. Some of us. Me. I remain unconvinced. Carolla’s new book, In Fifty Years We’ll All Be Chicks …And Other Complaints from an Angry Middle-Aged White Guy, can charitably be described as a collection of short essays, but the uncharitable—me—will deem it a long, rambling rant. Carolla moves through the topics of children, airports, bottled water, women’s equality, M*A*S*H, and the need for a good quality bathrobe without much semblance of rhythm or plan. It’s like reading the world’s longest essay by the kid that ADD ate. Take the chapter “We’ve Built A Minimum-Wage Gilded Cage.” Carolla begins: “We made a mistake in this country that will rank right up there with slavery and Japanese internment camps. We deputized a bunch of minimum wagers and placed them in every guard shack, behind every counter, at every gate, and gave them carte blanche to fuck with us. We’re essentially prisoners in a penitentiary that we paid for.” Sounds reasonable enough. Carolla moves on to tell a story about attending an event where he was forced to travel through a series of security barriers even though there was no line-up. Horrors. Next, he’s in line at Disneyland’s California Adventure, where his daughter is just under the “you must be this tall to ride” line: “When it was her turn, the diesel dyke in khaki slacks and matching ranger hat said, ‘She has to be at least forty-two inches tall to go on the ride.’” OH MY GOD. Didn’t they know who they were dealing with? Adam fucking Carolla, that’s who! Adam Carolla, who pronounces that a Pop-Tart dipped in Astroglide could not have passed between his daughter’s head and the forty-two inch line. The world is so unfair. Next, Carolla is barred from entering a television studio set until his name is checked against a list. Shocking. Told to pay twenty dollars upon entering a pay parking lot (Carolla wants to hand over the twenty dollars after he parks the car because he is sitting on his wallet). Cruel, unusual punishment! An Armenian woman working at a fast food restaurant doesn’t want to customize his order. DON’T THEY KNOW HE’S ADAM CAROLLA? Finally, a tow truck driver tries to tow away Carolla’s brand new BMW (silver, M3), but Carolla manages to drive the car off the back of the tow truck and get away. OH MY GOD, IT’S ADAM FUCKING CAROLLA, VIGILANTE WHITE MAN FIGHTING THE SYSTEM AND WINNING! Most of the book reads this way: Adam Carolla, complaining about things that are an affront and an insult to his middle-aged, white male self. Adam Carolla, trying to prove that he’s just like us folksy people—but one with a lot of money. A BMW, for one. An Audi that cost fifty thousand dollars, too. So he says. A number of television pilots (Wikipedia told me the pilots were dead). A stint on a radio show, Loveline (he’s not on that any more, either). A radio career (he does his own podcast now). A stint on Dancing With the Stars (voted off). A number of mentions of Jimmy Kimmel, too—a media personality who appears to be much more successful than Carolla. Oh, dear. Can you make a career out of complaining? Evidently so; the complaints lodged in the book have inexplicably propelled it up the New York Times bestseller list, though I rather wonder if the sales are doing well because nobody knows what to get their asshole uncle for Christmas. I don’t complain nearly as much as Carolla, though, and I take the bus to work. QED, I guess. Like most celebrity advice books, this one uses lists as chapter filler. We have the kinds of guys that Carolla can’t hang out with, the television shows he hates, movies he loves, music he hates, animals he admires (I think?), bathroom usage rules, the things about women that he doesn’t like, social welfare programs he is opposed to, foods he has “a beef” with, why he’s not a racist, and technology that seems to fail him. It’s almost as if a handler gave Carolla a list of writing prompts and then pulled them out of a hat, one by one. “Okay, Adam. Today we’re going to write about… what we think about hotel pillows. Ready? Go!” Perhaps. What is more shocking is not that a celebrity managed to string together what is essentially a book of half-assed aphorisms drawn out into endlessly banal letters to the nonexistent editor, but that occasionally there’s a little bit of good advice in there. Spend the money on a really good bathrobe, he says. You’ll get years of wear out of it, and it should be comfortable. Buy a good bed, because a bad night’s sleep keeps you from being productive and happy the next day. It’s like the very fabric of reality has been ripped slightly, because what he’s saying makes sense and you agree with it. And then you read the chapter on the bathroom dos and don’ts and the merits of a courtesy flush. Reality closes in around you again, and all is right with the world once more. I can’t deny that there was the occasional quip that made me smile. And that there were a couple of anecdotes that made me shrug and think, “well, I guess… yeah, I suppose he’s right.” The book’s premise is that the “pussification of America” is rampant. “What we used to settle with common sense or a fist,” Carolla says, “we now settle with hand sanitizer and lawyers.” Masculinity, he says, is rapidly disappearing—Carolla’s greatest fear is that men will become women. Not just women, though. Chicks. And it’s an interesting premise, given the ever-changing definitions of gender and normative behavior. But this is not a book about Judith Butler. This is not even a book about how masculinity is on the decline. It’s a book of rambling, ranting paragraphs strung together by lists of things Carolla hates, lists of things Carolla likes, and stories about times when he got mad because he couldn’t have his way. I tried to pick up a thread of a thesis—any thread, anything at all—but there’s just nothing there. If the book were a series of stand-up comedy bits, it would make sense. But you can’t declare that you’re going to write a book about how men aren’t men anymore and spend three pages complaining about iced tea and passionfruit flavoring and another page and a half bemoaning ketchup and soy sauce packets. You just can’t. Carolla dedicates the book to “everyone who paid retail for the book.” Don’t worry, Mr. Carolla: I bought it on sale. Reduced to clear. And I had a coupon.

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Alenjandro Chaskielberg | http://bit.ly/ievzfe PHOTOGRAPHY

Jonathan Barkat | http://bit.ly/ghars1

David Field | http://bit.ly/hLXrGL

Jonathan Barkat | http://bit.ly/ghars1

THE BEST PHOTOGRAPHY FROM THE TOP PHOTOGRAPHERS IN THE WORLD: THE PRINTED BLOG. Lori Nix | http://bit.ly/fsBpoD PHOTOGRAPHY

Jonathan Barkat | http://bit.ly/ghars1

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Jurij Treskoff | treskoff.com | Model Lada

Damon Loble | http://bit.ly/hptQir

Marcel van der Vlugt | http://bit.ly/hFWQua PHOTOGRAPHY

Boris Ovini | http://bit.ly/gUGDKp

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Damon Loble | http://bit.ly/hptQir

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Boris Ovini | http://bit.ly/gUGDKp

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TYLER SHIELDS—THE DIRTY SIDE OF GLAMOUR

Tyler Shields | http://bit.ly/gkBiLb

TYLER SHIELDS—THE DIRTY SIDE OF GLAMOUR

Tyler Shields | http://bit.ly/gkBiLb

PHOTOGRAPHY

All of the images on this two-page layout are from Tyler Shields. Tyler talked to The Printed Blog’s publisher, Joshua Karp, about his new book, The Dirty Side of Glamour. Immediately after Tyler produced his first book, the now sold out 4by5, he started working on his next, The Dirty Side of Glamour. Tyler discussed how the concept emerged. “When we were shooting 4by5, we found ourselves having to work in the middle of hardcore urban settings. We were changing clothes behind dumpsters, in filthy alleyways, chatting it up with homeless people as we went. We ignored all the rules (and laws), in order to shoot in the most amazing settings possible, while avoiding getting caught. In the midst of this filth and dirt and urban decay, we had some of the most beautiful men and women in the world—TV stars, movie stars, popular musicians, runway models—you name it.” “As I observed these truly glamorous people, so completely out of their element, it struck me that this might be an incredible photographic study; it’s evolved a bit since then, but that’s how The Dirty Side of Glamour got started.” I asked Tyler what we can expect from the book. “You’ll see the most iconic actors, actresses, and models of our times, doing things you couldn’t possibly expect. Sometimes alone, sometimes in pairs or even in larger groups, I’ve taken Lindsay Lohan, Lydia Hearst, Matt Dallas, Alison Brie, Zachary Quinto, Vincent Kartheiser, and Kristin Cavallari, to name only a few, and I exposed a side of them they desperately keep hidden from you and me both.” “I pushed these amazing men and women over the line, showing me their most raw and unfettered emotions—fear, lust, guilt, dread, release, and then unadulterated joy, and while doing so, I captured it on film. You’ve never seen anything like this before. It is The Dirty Side of Glamour.” The Dirty Side of Glamour will be released towards the end of 2011. You can sign up for The Printed Blog mailing list to get updates on The Dirty Side of Glamour; you can also follow Tyler on Twitter @tylershields and view more of his work on his web site, www.tylershields.com. Subscribe to The Printed Blog to see never before published images and outtakes from The Dirty Side of Glamor as the release date approaches—remember, it only costs $24 a year for an issue every month—visit www.theprintedblog.com today.

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Tyler Shields | http://bit.ly/gkBiLb

TYLER SHIELDS—THE DIRTY SIDE OF GLAMOUR

Tyler Shields | http://bit.ly/gkBiLb

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ERIK JOHANSSON—FEATURED PHOTOGRAPHER

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ERIK JOHANSSON My name is Erik Johansson. I am a freelance photographer and retoucher living in Norrköping, Sweden. I do both personal projects and commercial work, but the photos on my web site are all from my personal collection. Photography is a way for me to reflect the ideas in my mind. I get inspired by things around me in my daily life. As much of my work addresses the surreal, I try to make sketches of the ideas I get before going to work on my images. Every project is a new challenge and my goal is to realize my ideas as realistically as possible. http://www.alltelleringet.com/ PHOTOGRAPHY

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ASTONISHING TALES OF LOVE: AVOID SOUNDING LIKE A DESPERATE SEX APE

By Matthew Inman | The Oatmeal

By Brandon Mandelson | 9/16/2010 | Bytes of Love http://bit.ly/gLeYDZ For those of you with dating and relationship questions you want answered by someone who should be in a mental institution, your wait is over. This week’s question is simple. How Do You Ask a Lady Back to Your Place Without Sounding Like a Desperate Sex Ape? First: If there isn’t a band using the name “Desperate Sex Ape” by the end of this week, I’m going to be deeply disappointed. Second, and more importantly: It’s easy to ask a lady back to your place. You just have to do it. So, why do men have problems with this? Most lack confidence. Let me tell you about a guy on the bus who demonstrated just how easy it is to ask a woman back to your place. I rode a Greyhound from Albany to Glens Falls this weekend. It’s not as fun as you think. They’re kind of squirmy. By the way, I’m talking about the bus. Not an actual grey hound. Although like the dog, Greyhound buses tend to smell funny and lick their balls at inopportune times. It’s true. This particular bus smelled funny because of the unwashed Canadian hoard that regularly rides it from Montreal to New York City and back. They take up almost every seat, and most of the time there is a distraught child whining about something in French. I don’t know what the kids are so upset about, but I get the impression people from Quebec are as good at childrearing as they are at becoming their own country. Because the Canadians get to board first, seating is limited. I was faced with two choices: I could sit with the woman who was actually hot and not just “bus hot”, or the strange old woman who was talking to herself. Since I love my wife, I sat with the strange woman. The dude behind me, whom the racist among you might say looked like a stereotypical black guy, sat down next to the attractive woman. I didn’t have a stop watch on me, but I decided to use my iPod to time how long it took him to get the woman’s number. He had it in seven minutes. What is this guy’s secret? Well, if popular culture has taught us anything, it’s that black people have magic powers and show us non-black people how to get shit done. You think I’m kidding? Go to Wikipedia and search for “Magical Negro” sometime. Holy racism on the part of the film industry. Since this isn’t a movie, and we’re not a bunch of bigots, I can tell you this guy was successful because he was cool. And I don’t mean cool like waking up to find Wonder Woman in the bed next to you. I mean cool as in “cool and confident”. He clearly had a plan (get the girl’s info) and he was confident in talking to her. It’s as simple as that. If you want someone to come to your place, you say, “Let’s go back to my place”. You don’t ask as if it were a question, you say it in a cool, confident way. I don’t mean to stereotype women here, but I’ve found, above all other qualities they look for in a man, confidence is at the top of the list. If you’re confident, you don’t have to worry about sounding like a desperate sex ape.

PAULY’S PEEVES VOL: 1 “TEENAGERS” By Pauly Casillas | 1/19/11 | Best Worst Advice

http://bit.ly/hY82QR

Hi, Pauly here. I want to talk to you about teenagers. If you’re anything like me, you think teenagers nowadays are pussies. Due to their ambiguity, it’s hard to tell what you’re even looking at sometimes. You have this entire “My life is sad” emo movement behind that. These kids think that the world is conformist and instead of being an individual, they mope about it like fat twats, and just fall in line with other spineless squids that cry tears of vagina. If THAT isn’t enough to make you want to go on a punching spree, you have these Justin Beieber fans. This is another beast in itself. When I was a teenager in the 90s, it was all about the Wu-Tang Clan and getting my dick wet. Now, it’s all about a soft hair flip, pretty looking boys and who can look like a girl the most. Who is to blame? We can easily point the finger at these kids and yell: “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU THINKING?” Yes, easy enough as it is, I’m here to tell you that it’s not their fault entirely. The parents of these kids are what the problem is. These lazy heads-of-households have let these pussy puffs be raised by the internet, TV, and video games. They sat back watching their Must See TV and let media tell these kids what to think, what to wear, and what to say. My advice to these “parents” is to start involving themselves more in the lives of these kids. If they would sit down and actually talk to these skidmarks, they would realize that they’re raising some dumb-fucks. Bam! EPIPHANY! I pray that happens because I can’t sit back and take the fact that the Beliebers are our future.

DON’T CALL ME A FAGGOT By Darron Cardosa | 1/28/11 | The Bitchy Waiter

h ttp://bit.ly/eNGh1s

One of the most common questions I am asked is if I have ever spit in anyone’s food. The answer is absolutely not. In my 33 years of food service, I swear on a stack of Tiger Beats that never once have I ever been so upset with a customer that I felt the need to take their food and spit in it. That is unprofessional, immature, unsanitary and disgusting and I would never do that to a plate of food. But one time I did spit in a lemonade. Although I am not proud of this fact, I admit that I stooped to that level. Blame it on youth, blame it on insensitivity or blame it on the rain, but it happened. Black Eyed Pea Highway 290 in Houston, Texas. I was working my regular lunch shift in the late 1970’s. One of my tables had four burly truck-driving men at it who no doubt came in to get their daily allowance of fried food and gravy injected into their veins. Now in those days, I was intimidated by men like that with their Wrangler jeans and cowboy hats and all that body hair sprouting from every orifice. They were not being particularly nice to me, but I could tell that they were not particularly nice to anyone else either. They were real men who thought that manners don’t matter (they do matter!) and the gruffer they were, the more manly they were. One guy kept sucking down lemonade because he wanted to make sure he took full advantage of the unlimited refills that were available. As I brought another glass to the table, I distinctly heard the word “faggot” followed by deep guttural manly men laughs. When I put the glass down, they all looked at me and abruptly stopped laughing. I knew they were laughing at me. They continued with their non-use of “please” or “thank you” and when it came time for yet another goddamn glass of lemonade, I had had it. Still fuming about the “faggot” remark, I regressed to high school where that moniker was a regular occurrence for me. Some people had nicknames like Skip, Moose, or Boss. Mine was Faggot. Suddenly those four men at table 14 represented every boy in high school who had called me that name. They were the same boys on the school bus who knocked me down and made me cry. They were the same asses who scrawled my name on the bathroom wall saying I gave good head. They were the same punks who slashed my tires at the Homecoming dance. As I filled up that gigantic glass of lemonade, I hocked up a loogie from deep within my tortured soul. The phlegm sat in my mouth as I debated whether or not to follow through on my sudden decision of revenge. Plus, it’s harder than you’d think to find a place in a sidestand where you can safely spit into a glass of lemonade without anyone seeing. But I did it. I let the spit drop into the glass and then I stirred it up with the straw and went back to the table. “Here you are, sir. Is there anything else you need right now?” He grunted. I stepped away and watched him drink his lemonade. What was weird was that I didn’t feel better. I felt stupid. It was like I was just as base and as lame as he was. What had come over me that suddenly I wanted to make this one man pay for every wrong that had come my way? I gave them the check, but I took one lemonade off the bill. I knew it didn’t really matter, but I did it anyway. I guess it was my apology for something that no one knew anything about. I have never done that again. One time. That was it. Ironic really, because I am certain that he went on to call many other guys a faggot. I moved on. He probably didn’t.

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AND THIS IS *EXACTLY* WHY I DON’T TRUST PR PEOPLE. By The Bloggess | 1/27/11 | The Bloggess http://bit.ly/dFeNM4 Okay, so last week I got an email asking if I was interested in interviewing Katherine Heigl and I ignored it because I’m irresponsible. I also ignored the email I got on the same day asking if I wanted to interview the guy who plays Sportacus on Lazy Town (true story). The Lazy Town person gave up after the first email but the PR chick from the Katherine Heigl interview sent me another email telling me that Katherine Heigl specifically asked for me to be on the call. Then I realized it was one of those “interviews” where a lot of bloggers get on at once to ask questions and I never do those but I thought it would be rude to not send Katherine a question if she specifically asked me for one. So I emailed the PR chick back: Hi Adrienne, I did get your email but I’m not actually free on the 24th. I’m flattered though that Katherine reads my blog and I do actually have one question to ask. I’m sure she’s swamped but perhaps you could pass this along and she could just email me back with her answer? Here is my question: Hi Katherine! Can you please settle an argument that my husband and I are having? In your last movie you call the baby that you have to adopt “Sofie”. I say it’s probably short for “Sofa” but my husband says that’s ridiculous because it would be irrelevant to shorten “Sofa” to “Sofie” since they both take exactly the same amount of time to say. I retorted that maybe her full name is “Sofa-Cushion” and he said that was ludicrous because “real people don’t have hyphens in their first names” because apparently he’s never heard of T-Pain or Jo-Jo the Dog-Faced Boy. He thinks “Sofie” more likely short for “Softball”. Can you please settle this for us? Hugs, Jenny Then Adrienne informed me that they would do the call another day and tried to get me to put up a widget or giveaway something. I don’t know. I wasn’t really paying attention at that point because I was drunk. My response to Adrienne: I might be able to do the 27th but I don’t do giveaways or widgets on my blog so I’d probably just write about the call and put a link to the movie at most. Will I be able to ask my question though or is this one of those calls where you just end up listening and never speaking? Because I think this sofa-softball issue is one that movie-goers are wondering about. Also, I have a follow-up question for Katherine about leaving my daughter to her in case of my untimely death because I plan on bestowing joint guardianship to Katherine and Oprah. Can you let me know if Katherine and Oprah have any bad blood between them, because if so we need to work that shit before I put anything in writing. Also, Flo from the Progressive commercials will be named as an adopted Aunt because I think she’ll be good at keeping things light-hearted whenever Oprah started taking herself too seriously. And for my daughters adopted uncle I’m choosing Sea-biscuit, because who doesn’t want a pony for an uncle? Fuck. *I* want a pony for an uncle. My husband isn’t totally on board with this yet. Probably because of the hyphen in SeaBiscuits name. I’m not sure what his problem is. I never got a clear answer from Adrienne but I went ahead and called in an hour ago to listen to the call AND THEY NEVER EVEN ASKED MY QUESTIONS. Like, not even one, y’all. Because apparently no one cares if my orphaned child is raised in a hostile environment. Or maybe because Katherine Heigl wants to use the name “Sofa-Cushion” for her next child and didn’t want everyone else stealing it. Conclusion: Katherine Heigl is a little bit selfish and Sportacus needs to find more aggressive PR people. PS. I’m totally renaming all of my cats “Sofa-cushion” out of sheer spite. PPS. Katherine Heigl is really very nice and now that I’m thinking about it I’m sure she probably did not intentionally kabosh my questions because that would be fucking insane. More likely Adrienne decided to steal my questions and submit them to Katherine as her own so that Katherine and Oprah would adopt her child. And this is exactly why I never trust PR people. PHOTOGRAPHY

Photograph: Albert Sanchez, for the book Style Eyes, (model) Nicole Muirbrook JOHN SWIFT PRINTING COMPANY

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CASUAL AND UNPLANNED By Ali Cobrin | 1/11/11 | ALI_IN_LA

http://bit.ly/ifNO8V

Two nights ago I went over to my friend Tyler’s house to shoot with Kyle Gallner. Ten minutes into meeting Kyle, Tyler had us wresting in his front yard while he sprayed us with the garden hose. Kyle got a warm bath after and stole all the hot water. Tyler read our palms and commented on both Kyle and my poor eating habits. I was finishing off a box of double stuffed oreos and Kyle made the plan to start eating an apple everyday. These are the casual and unplanned nights I live for to shape my life and color it wonderful. PHOTOGRAPHY

Tyler Shields | bit.ly/tylershields

ALESSANDRA TORESSANI By Alessandra Toressani | 2/10/11 | The Bambola Factory

http://bit.ly/hEpxCC

Hello My Printed Blog readers, As you have come to know I am Alessandra Torresani. I have been asked to write my monthly column. Last month I thought I would introduce you to my crazy life and how I have become the lady I am today. Why Joshua and Tyler think it’s a good idea for me to have the freedom to write to you all, I still do not understand. I thought today I would tell you some funny stories that have happened since being the 1st Cylon! Towards the beginning of my Cylon career, I received many emails, letters and twitter responses to how the fans loved the pilot of Caprica. It was so incredible to hear such positive reactions. At first, the notes were super sweet and complimentary but when I had gone to my first Con, sh*t hit the fan. Now let me start this off by saying I am not one to judge at all. I am all about one’s dreams, goals and even fantasies. But sexual fantasies, well ok I’m down with those too if I am to be completely honest with you all. Although, this one particular story I am about to tell does not fit the “appropriate fantasy of Alessandra.” An older gentleman came up to me the first day of a Con expressing his love for Caprica. He continued to tell me he was a fan of my acting and the way I portrayed the Zoe characters. Aww, what an angel to tell me all these positive things. Wrong! The story went on, and in the dirtiest direction. He told me had this dream the night before, in which I was kicking ass fighting off these men when suddenly Buffy (the Vampire Slayer) joined in on the ass kicking. Let’s take a moment to explain one minor detail. He did not say Buffy like it was the character, he said it oh so casually as if this was a dear friend of his. Ok back to the story. He continued the story by telling me how Buffy and I had fought every evil creature off, came together in unity and proceeded to have a sensual kiss. Hmm, he not only told me about some more graphic girl on girl action between Buffy and I, but made this story seem so light and fun, as if it were a dream about rainbows and unicorns. Also, I will let you know this was at 11 am on a sunday morning, a day of God! Oh, but I must now laugh and thank him for making my first Con so memorable. San Diego’s Comic-Con was honestly one of the most insane experiences of my life! I will speak for Sasha Roiz, my Caprica co-star, and say Holy Frak, nerds certainly know how to party! Over and above all, the fans were the most genuine people ever. They are so loyal and took such an interest in the series and the characters. No dirtiness this Con, shucks I know. There is a funny story though don’t you worry. Tom Lieber, my bff and child exec at Universal/SyFy and I decided to take a stroll on one of my off days. The costumes, props and booths that were throughout the convention center couldn’t be described, it was all visual. Walking around I thought I would take pictures with people dressed up. Why not right? How often do you see a Smurf or Jabba walking around on a saturday afternoon. A man dressed as a Cylon ran up to me all pumped up. I must say I thought I was pretty cool that moment in time. What more could you expect from akward me other than totally embarrassing myself. I said’ “Oh hi, love your costume, do you want an autograph or picture with me?” He takes off his helmet and says “Oh funny, no I just wanted to tell you that’s an awesome Zoe costume.” AKWARD! As Tom is laughing at me, I am blushing. I was mortified that I actually thought someone would care I was on Caprica. Finally, Mr. Cylons goes “OMFG, you are the actually Zoe, like you are actually Alessandra.” “Yep, that’s me. Do you want that picture now?” With a straight face he says, “No that’s ok, have a great day!” Cut to more blushing and more laughter. Comedy is and will always be my first love. Since I could talk I have been putting on performances and skits. I would do my version of Saturday Night Live every time before the show started airing. That being said, whenever someone approaches me and wants to do a funny comedy spoof, I am all about it. Funniest thing is, the joke is always on me. People think it’s really funny to dress me up in sexy sci-fi girl costumes. Look, that’s hilarious, expect I am not a model. I can not just be prancing around in the Slave Princess Leia outfit casually. This all started my first day hosting Attack of the Show. Woke up, got to work at 8 am and was given the Slave Leia outfit to put on. Alright, I don’t think the croissant or the pasty skin helped out, but apparently you all enjoyed laughing at Keven Pereria dressing me up for his enjoyment. I recently agreed to do a funny sci-fi skit for the hilarious Break.com! We are taking a spoof on the Enrique Inglesias video Tonight I’m Fucking You, switching it to Tonight I’m Frakking You. So kitchy I know! I showed up to set yesterday so excited and ready to do my cameo. What do you think those boys made me do, Ding Ding Ding, put on that god damn Slave Princess Leia. I’m telling you jokes on them. This time you best believe I did not have a croissant before we shot that. Well, I must take that back, I had pizza. Shoot, I am really not good at being sexy, am I? So much for trying to get another fan to have a sexual fantasy about me after seeing me in that outfit! One can only hope I will redeem myself one of these days. Maybe a sexy Sailor Moon outfit would do the trick! Anyways, I’m off to bed, yes it’s 3 am and I’m writing this. Hope you enjoyed some of my silly Cylon stories! I promise there are many more fun things to tell next time! Kisses and Loves, Alessandra Olivia Torresani

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RAMBLINGS, OOPS By Tavi Gevinson | 12/19/09 | style rookie

http://bit.ly/h36IY7

This is something I’ve been thinking about for a while and my lovely wife Belle and I were talking about it on the phone yesterday and I’d like to just get it down on virtual paper. Oh and be warned, I say “inspiration” 4943 times and sounds really pretentious but whatevs. You know, it’s weird because Belle and I sort of fed off of each other for inspiration for a while. Then I don’t know how it started but we both began feeling pretty blah. It feels like for months I’ve had random bursts of inspiration, but it’s mostly just been monotonous, formulaic, or making sure I just barely have a decent outfit so I don’t feel TOO lazy. Sure, there is inspiration that is more direct...a color scheme of a photo that you want to incorporate into outfit form, a character from a movie...but the inspiration to simply just be creative is harder to hold on to. People like Anna Piaggi, Lynn Yaeger, Julia Frakes, Isabella Blow, Daphne Guinness, Vivienne Westwood, Iris Apfel, Grace Jones, David Bowie, Little Edie, Diana Vreeland, Bjork, Marchesa Luisa Casati, Catherine Baba, Anna Dello Russo...these people that dress to extremes simply because of a very deep, pure love for fashion... are inspiring to me. And then people like this girl in FRUiTS, or mad old women, or funny toddlers, who dress for the same reasons and may not even know it’s called fashion, inspire me as well. They make me want to write a story using what’s in my closet, or in a kitchen cabinet waiting to become some type of headpiece. And that, in the end, is all I want to do. Use my resources, and just have fun with dressing. Weirdly enough, it’s when people anywhere-outside, in school, online-don’t understand my outfits or style that motivates me to just be stranger. Not that I think I’m Bob Dylan or some type of ENIGMATIC ARTISTE or an artist at all, but this refusal of others to try and understand why somebody dresses a certain way (for which the real reasons are, in the end, nothing complex) just makes me want to dress more obnoxiously. Be more difficult to understand, more over their heads. Or, I’m a malicious and spiteful teenager! But really, I love it when I love my outfit and I walk from class to class and feel like I’m practically floating. My head is bobbing around like Bjork’s when she walked for Jean Paul Gaultier and I just feel very confident in myself, not because I think other people will like my outfit but just because I do. And maybe even because I know other people won’t like it because it isolates me and I can be in my own world for a bit. And it makes me feel good, and being creative makes me feel good. And I think that is all I really want to do, and have ever wanted to do. The idea of being a mad eccentric who is constantly slipping into different skins is so appealing to me. I started this blog because I wanted to explore my style. Now I have more of an idea of what it is and will just continue to try and apply it every day. Now, another reason I started is because I wanted to be part of the fashion blogging community and because I think fashion should be discussed. So let’s get a discussion going: What inspires you? What keeps you in love with clothes? What makes you stray from sweatpants every day? Tell me. PHOTOGRAPHY

Vee Speers | www.veespeers.com | Jackson Fine Art | www.jacksonfineart.com

THE FUTURE OF FASHION BLOGGING = THE FUTURE OF FASHION? By Laura Hunter-Thomas | 1/25/11 | Obsessive Coolness

Mark MarkViszlay Vislay | http://bit.ly/edGaeg PHOTOGRAPHY

http://bit.ly/iksw2b

A new year, naturally enough, is heralded by beginnings. We have already suffered the last days of December, during which we reflected on the mistakes and failings of the year gone by (carefully ignoring the fact that the past 14 days may have heavily contributed to the majority of our sins, especially the ones against our waistlines). The New Year offers a sort of promise, the hope that life may present us with a clean slate upon which we can remake ourselves, erasing the mistakes of the past and sketching a brighter and better future. For many folks, this kind of beginning equals the usual ill-advised resolutions. We draw a skinnier version of ourselves on that slate of ours, or a fitter one, or a more homely one, or a more driven, workplace-based one… But by the end of the first month of the year, many of our so strongly-asserted resolutions have been broken (although let’s be honest, assertions made under the influence of way too much wine and New Year revelry don’t really have much of a chance of survival). However, there are some beginnings that survive the New Year trap, and actually take advantage of the fresh platform provided. In fashion terms, we’re talking about trends. As we embrace a new year and, with any luck, a new version of ourselves, many of us are also prompted to accept shiny newness in many other arenas. In the fashion world, this means new trends, whether in the specific areas of new styles of clothing, new designers, or any of the other diverse facets of the fashion world. This is, in my opinion, an entirely positive thing: it means new faces are given the chance to be recognized for their hard work, and the fact is that change of any kind usually inspires creativity. New faces, recognition, hard work and creativity are what 2011’s major trend is all about: blogging. For many years the fashion industry was inspiring but closeted: glamorous but exclusive. Such exclusivity contributed to an air of mystique, but also restricted the world of fashion in a way that no industry really benefits from. But blogging changed all that. Fashion/style blogging exploded in 2010, as bloggers became the new bona fide fashion insiders, and a new breed was born: the fashion editor cum model cum photographer cum celebrity cum designer. Now, fashion bloggers are prized as much by commercial companies as by ordinary people for their genuine insight and direct connection with their audience, and what was once the fashion industry’s most intriguing feature (the somewhat cloying cloud of surrounding mystery and exclusivity) has been utterly replaced by a new openness that has benefitted the industry multifold. Blogging has benefitted more than just the current, already informed industry insiders, however. The openness nurtured and given birth to by the matrimonial figures of fashion blogging such as Rumi Neely of fashiontoast, for example, has encouraged others to be inspired and become involved. Fashion blogging has given the fashion industry a new lease on life by offering up more creativity, more independence, more knowledge and more expertise in the characters of those at the helm of their own blogs, and thus has given the fashion industry a very arousing kiss of life. Fashion and style bloggers are celebrated for the unbiased and uncensored nature of their opinions, qualities not otherwise often found in the world of fashion, and for this reason they are experiencing an ever-increasing surge of popularity and interest. As fashion blogging continues to grow and mature, as I believe it will, in 2011, we shall see more beginnings, more new faces, more hard work, and more creativity. And this is exactly what fashion is all about. LAUREN DAVIS, FASHION EDITOR

Lauren Davis, The Printed Blog Fashion Editor, is pleased to introduce Tavi Gevinson of The Style Rookie (www.thestylerookie.com)—a must read if you’re into fashion. If you don’t know Tavi—she’s only 14 years old, but she’s already established herself and her style. She is, without a doubt, one to follow. We’re also pleased to bring you another post from Laura Hunter-Thomas at Obsessive Coolness (theblogofobsessivecoolness.blogspot.com). We’re going to have an expanded Fashion section in the next issue of The Printed Blog.

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Alex Prager, Eve , 2008 (c) Alex Prager | http://bit.ly/g1UjzJ PHOTOGRAPHY

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THE BLOCKBUSTER NEW NOVEL, GREEN PIG, REVIEWED By Matt D. Wilson | 1/28/11 | Matt D. Wilson’s High-Minded Bullshit http://bit.ly/i0nkQy The birds are angry. And with good reason, right? It is an unspeakable crime that these green thieves have stolen their eggs away, with no apparent explanation. The pigs must deserve the destruction of their wood, stone and ice homes; the literal explosions of rage from their avian attackers; the cracks in their giant helmets. But what if we have misjudged these emerald antagonists? That’s the question answered in Green Pig, the astonishing novel by pseudonymous author Roxio Tappett. The tale unfolds in much the same way as modern classics such as John Gardner’s Grendel, Gregory Maguire’s Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, and those episodes of Lost that proved Ben wasn’t all bad when you got right down to it. The protagonist of this epic is Hamilton P. Pig, one of a group of descendants of the original three little pigs, turned green by radiation poisoning after some industrious birds offered their home-destroying knowledge to a certain large, malevolent wolf many generations ago, leaving the pigs exposed to runoff from a local nuclear power plant. Life has been downward spiral for the pigs ever since. Shunned by their pink peers, the green pigs, known in porcine circles as the “pukes,” have been unable to provide for themselves for decades. With virtually no resources available to them, the green pigs must live in virtual houses of cards, structures made of raw materials held together with nothing but gravity and faith, with walls on only two sides. The community nearing starvation and reaching the breaking point, Hamilton reluctantly participates in a plan to obtain a few eggs from the great grandchildren of the birds who ruined their ancestors’ lives. Little did he or any of the others know the consequences that would befall them, the anger that would destroy their already tattered lives. This is the story of desperation turning into war, and one pig’s mortal fear as he sits, powerless, in the bottom right corner of the structure in level 2-3, as birds split into threes all around him. He watches his family and his friends’ lives snuffed out in a poof of smoke, that terrible number, “5000,” burned into his mind’s eye forever. As the carnage erupts around him, Hamilton pines for his true love, Melinda, a yellow bird he has been meeting in secret for a few months, away from the prying eyes of their families, who would certainly disapprove. Hamilton meant to propose to Melinda, but near the end of the last meeting, she sped things ahead to a quicker close than he expected. Now, she has been called away to the slingshot at level 3-1. Hamilton is aware of what happens to the birds who go to battle. If he could only move in more than a slow roll propelled by some nearby momentum without exploding, he would go to her. Melinda’s father, Gen. Phineas, serves as the villain. You can tell he’s the villain because he shoots the birds at the pigs. A combination of Gone With the Wind, Romeo and Juliet, and that iPhone game people play while they sit on the toilet, Green Pig is a novel for our times. “Get me three stars!” Gen. Phineas exclaims to kick off the sprawling story in medias res. I give this wonderful book four. TM

Kerry Skarbakka | Courtesy of Irvine Contemporary and the artist | http://bit.ly/f3NDfN

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