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Kiss off, Kate | page 1, 2

I was struck by a quote in a recent interview in the Onion with rock poster-artist Frank Kozik. He was discussing some paintings of his that he refuses to exhibit in the United States: "There's stuff I do for other places I absolutely won't allow to be disseminated in the U.S. because nobody here would really understand," Kozik said. "I do a lot of sort of high-end stuff in Japan with this group of people who own lifestyle kinds of businesses ... a lot of the older cats were beatnik types in the '50s and '60s."

"There's no ageism over there," he continued, "so I work with a circle of people in Japan where they're all super cool, but they're from 17 to 65 in age and they all work together as a big organic family. It's a very cool scene over there, very intellectual. It's also extremely fucking anti-everything. So, for example, we do super-fancy designer stuff where you take Klan imagery and twist it toward making fun of Japs. Like, I did a whole series of ultra-fascist Nazi stuff, but it's all because they like to look at it and it's not really Nazi stuff. It's kitsch, almost. Does that make sense? You take this bizarre power imagery and turn it on its head. It's a really complicated process for an American to understand, so I don't let that shit out over here, because people would flip out."

Kozik's remarks in the Onion made me want to swim to Japan, made me feel like there was a ray of hope somewhere, an irreverent planet within the all-too-reverent one. I was exposed to something like that here in New York recently, but generally these klatches of ultra-cool bizarro stuff are remote and hard to find.



Cintra Wilson

Cintra Wilson's column appears every other Thursday in People

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Richard Metzger recently had an event at New York's Hammerstein Ballroom called "Disinfo.con," a sort of paranoid, black-clad and tragically hip conference featuring speakers from the intellectual weirdo elite and various conspiracy theorists. Basing his idea on the 1979 Nova Convention in honor of William S. Burroughs, Metzger expressed a desire that the event be "one part rave, one part performance, one part mind-fuck."

Of all the speakers, I was most impressed with Adam Parfrey, publisher of Feral House books and author of "Apocalypse Culture (Vols. I and II)." Parfrey proved, to me at least, that the most interesting stuff in the world, entertainment-wise, is manifestations of bizarre, isolated belief systems and/or other wild anthropological mutations. The ways people flip out.

During Parfrey's brief time onstage, the audience was shown slides of art from the "Nubian Hebrews," a sect that utilizes images of Jesus and the Holy Mother looking like Lionel Richie and Toni Braxton. This segued into a discussion about the multimillion-dollar breeding of a pure red heifer by a Texas oilman for reasons of promoting Armageddon, and talk of a group of people who want to try to clone Jesus out of DNA from his foreskin, which they say is in the possession of a group of cloners from the Bay Area at this very moment.

My personal favorite topic of Parfrey's was the tale of Brice Taylor, a woman who claims that Bob Hope and Henry Kissinger forced her to be their sex slave through Satanic mind control. Taylor also claims that she was forced to be the romantic female lead in a "dolphin porn" movie shot by Sylvester Stallone, who also tried to force her to have sex with a sea turtle. The turtle, claims Taylor, was "too nice" to have sex with her. She writes that she was eventually saved by Jesus. Needless to say, I found Parfrey's collection of whacked-out human oddity souvenirs totally interesting and entertaining.

Screw "Kate," screw Broadway -- maybe I'm a tacky sensationalist, but give me a vomiting Pilgrim and some dolphin porn any day over reheated operettas of the tepid past. We should all force our grandmothers to go to Marilyn Manson concerts instead of letting them cart off on the comfy tour bus to another pastel, whitewashed Broadway abortion. We should diminish the aesthetic age gap. I'll go to Japan to find others of like mind if I have to, but I hope I don't have to.
salon.com | March 2, 2000

 

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About the writer
Cintra Wilson lives in New York. Her book, "A Massive Swelling: Celebrity Re-examined as a Grotesque, Crippling Disease, and Other Cultural Revelations" is being released by Viking in July. For more columns by Wilson, visit her column archive.

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