For Stories
Webbies....
If there is one thing I do not like to be called, it's a liar....not that I do not spend most of my days making up stories and lying to various girlfriends, wives, concubines, correspondents and/or any other daily bipedal relations; but sometimes, when the occasion presents itself, I do not tell a lie....*
Back in 1994 and 1995, a couple friends and I started a site called Atlas Magazine. I originally came up with the idea and concept and quickly recruited Michael Macrone and Amy Franceschini, who at the time was an intern at a design shop in San Francisco called Post tool Design and who went on to moderate fame and fortune, the girl, not the shop...The site quickly became popular and unfortunately, to everyone's dismay a Web Design Company was spinned off the magazine....
At the time the corporate world was freaking out about having their own website and couldn't climb fast enough over each other to have terribly disfunctional and ugly sites built, and frankly we could not say no to so little money..... Long story short as I hate to tell boring stories such as this one, the magazine was eventually nominated for the first ever Webbies in 1997 and 1998, which we did not win...BUT, wait for it, there is another category which still exists today called "People's Voice Webby" which we did win both years....a fact which to our dismay is not properly credited on the Webby Awards' website, (i.e completely ignored).... Why you tell me? Why have we been so wronged to have won something of so little value, and yet, still remain uncredited...to this very day of our Lord, May 4th, 2011...a full 72 hours since Osama's unceremonious sponge bath into the Labian sea; a 70 Houris' a chanting?
Well, I only became aware of this fact a few years back and contacted Tiffany Schlain, the creator of the Webby awards and she very pleasantly agreed with me, that indeed, a People's Voice Webby award was originally part of her/his (David Michel Davies) creation and that as a matter of fact we ought to have been mentioned as both a nominee for the main Webby Award, and as the winner for the People's voice award...."Thank you Tiffany...... I will contact the new owner of the Webby Awards" but I will be told that the "People's Voice Webby" did not exist back in 1997 and 1998 (which clearly did, see image above and email below) and to shove my thumb up me arse and see if my prostate reflects my recent and unavoidable foray into middle age.....
So, every year, when some mic or meat puppet announces the Webby winners on NPR, ABC, and/or NBC.... I am reminded that a great wrong has yet to be righted and quickly forget about it.... Ok, wait, let's backtrack, somebody named David Michel Davies (he looks like he is the original founder) from the International Academy of Digital Arts & Sciences/The Webby Awards did respond rather nicely(see email**) and passed me on to some woman named Jody who essentially told me to stick it where my prostate don't shine. Consequently the ball was dropped, the matter forgotten and buried by a life lived under a mountain of stress, highlights and cheap high heels....
So..... with evidence to boot, I am posting this so that may be, some day, the Webby Awards folks will be shamed into correcting these oversights, not for the three of us, but for all the other winners of the People's Voice of the 1997 and 1998 Webby Awards, who also still remain, to this day, uncredited, despicable polyamorous liars......
PS: Atlas Magazine had a different URL in 1997 as it was hosted by Organic, a now large tech company sold to Grey advertising or some such giant French conglomerate.... We were not affiliated with them but they did provide us with free bandwith which was very nice.....
Fuck that was painful....! Do not ever let me write a fucking entry like this again; with dates, names, facts, sentences...what a fucking bore.....!
...on the other hand I am still proud that Atlas Magazine was the first website in the history of humanity to become part of the SFMOMA's permanent collection...the first MOMA to do so...! Although, I do not think it means much of anything either....!
* Even though, as I must shamefully admit, I do live an incredibly full, polyamorous life filled with the joyous sounds of children from varied wombs, drained financial accounts and numerous, vituperously jealous harpies...!
**
Appointed duty...
Last Thursday's shoot. We piled into a couple cars and drove to within reach of Sacramento, CA... and shot two more personal pieces. From left to right: Shawnrey Notto, Gabriel Laude, Yours truly "Dear leader", and the Ryan Arthurs....! Results will be available this coming Tuesday the 25th of August and will be posted on "Dear Leader" should said works be worthy of any such subsequent entries.... Thanks to all, especially Ryan and Shawnrey. Polaroid by Raphael Laude. Polaroid by Raphael Laude.
Left to Right: Raphael Laude, Shawnrey Notto, Gabriel laude and the Ryan Arthurs. Polaroid by Olivier Laude.
The flipping point....
Great interview with George Soros in the New York Review of Books. Been thinking the same kinds of things for a while now but could never have sat down and put it all together like that. Not my skill set, that's for sure..... I highly recommend it. Not that he is says anything new but it is about the best synopsis of the world today I have read in a long, long, time. Kinda reminds me of reading Robert Kaplan's "The coming Anarchy" in 1994. That also was a fine piece of intellectual ass..... and all along, ya'll thought I was an idiot......
Super Ordovician, Carboniferous, Phanerozoic Mississipian.
I have no comment at this time.
El Camino....and then some....
Here we go, here are a few more stories for your arty pleasuré:
ONE- Go shoot animal tracks, gopher tracks, goat tracks, that sort of thing. Did you know most roads and byways you now drive on, to take your aunt Mary to her shallow grave, started out as animal tracks. That's right, way back when, all that primitive man had to do was follow them and bingo, either they'd get some tasty entrée or find some dirty water to quench their cave sized estomaqué. When we were kids in Corsica, you had to know which path, which track, led back home, otherwise you'd be fucked, big time..... The goats ate away at the "Maquis"(a corsican word BTW) and over time dig tunnels into the mountains; some led nowhere but to dappled dead ends*, other led us home. If you didn't what you were doing, you were dead.
During the war my grandfather and his pals in the Corsican resistance would lure the Germans and Italians into the Maquis through those tunnels, get them good and lost and then burn that part of the mountain, roasting them like Christmas partridges. Which brings me to our next story.
TWO- In California and the West, we have what's called freeways, and on those freeways automobiles travel great distances rather hurriedly, and often recklessly whack other mammals out of their way. The often end up, in the grass, by the side of the road, where they lie, mortally wounded. If they are not dead right away, death usually comes slowly but no one's counting, so who knows how long it takes. Paramedics are never called but once in the while if the stink is too great, some CALTRANS highway worker will drop by and pick up the remains. But fortunately, not all of them are collected and a few stay there to rot, deep in the yellowing grass, watching big rigs go their separate ways.
That grass I just mentioned.... well teenage runaways enjoy putting matches to it; just for the hell of it. Great big billowing dark clouds of sooting grass rise into our beautiful blue clouds(what's a blue cloud you ask?), soiling Highway 5 a little more than expected, incinerating those forgotten carcasses . The tall grasses gone, what was once invisible to vagrants and passenger seats, is now revealed, after that grassy and fiery furnace. (Note: If you are on a budget and don't like waiting in Motel 6s, just burn some shit down yourself or rent some teenage runaway. If you can't find crispy critters just drive to the nearest muni dump and ask where they keep the road kill and plead your case.....)
So, next summer, drive up and down High 5 between Tracy and LA and look out for those dark burned out grassless patches, drag your cameras on a one horse open sleight and shoot those forlorn carcasses (See above image, for reference only).
The first one to return to NYC with a body of work out of those two stories gets a gallery show....so please hurry....off you go.... shoo...scram....shuusshhhh.....
I was also going to suggest shooting those discarded xmas trees you are apt to see, felled by the side of the road, but my friend steve mentioned that it has already been done. Anyway, someone has already done a similar project, shooting piles of lawn clippings on suburban streets but called them "Detritus", and with a name like that, you get the keys to the city.
* Just like Golden Gate park in San Francisco, except that the tunnels are dug by the homeless and you more likely to catch some toothless skank giving head, rather than having a magical childhood ready made. (Skank:The term "skank" differs from that of "slut" in that whereas the latter implies only sexual promiscuity; the former also implies poor taste, personally degrading behaviour and low socioeconomic class. Dang.....! I want me some of that, aaarg, those damn childhood fetishes!).
Epistolary Query...
Image courtesy of: Marsh, Moriarty, Ontel & Golder, P.C.
In the spirit of this new year, I wish to share with you this personal missive, which over the years has allowed me to correspond with strangers; garnering friendships and honors as well as financial recompense. This letter, I use as first correspondence to inquire about potential editorial, corporate or advertising contigencies with future and existing clients. Feel free to use it as I have presently exhausted its value, uses and benefits (I have also noticed that it it is most effective when committed to parchment).
"Dearest (recipient),
I am very much obliged to(sponsor's name)for writing to me on Thursday January the 17th, and very glad that I owe the pleasure of hearing from him again so soon, and to such an agreeable cause, and that it so graciously concerns me. But, you will not be surprised, nor perhaps so joyful as I should be, to find that he/she recommended me to your agency. I am very well happy to hear of his health and safety and wish him and you sir/madame, nothing but a good prize as to have so kindly thought of me.
But deem me not so devoid of proper pride as to wish you to evoke his/her determination, from which I will not attempt to dissuade you, whether he/she may have made it in coll deliberation, or in precipitous haste.
Hence, kind Sir/Madame, I shall endeavor to inquire as to your affections, and as readily and completely as you may consider me. All that I shall now require from you is this; that you would respond electronically, should you find this missive and my photographic entreaties to be suitable, and to your demiurgic liking.
I hope to not have written under a foolish confidence in your attachment, and if so please accept my sincerest pleas for forgiveness and/or apology....."
Sincerely,
Your Name.
Artfully so...
In 2008 I will be posting photo stories I won't be doing, but which, if they have not already been done, you may "Artfully" shoot for yourself. Remember, you can shoot almost anything, and depending on how you package it, you can make a name for yourself. If you persevere and produce "a body of work" consisting of more than six, but no less than twelve of these stories within a calendar year, and in a somewhat recognizable personal style, you will .........
Begin here/Story One:
Go to strip clubs with a large format camera and shoot the audience watching the show(do not shoot the striper). Report to the authorities when you are done. You will need around 30 to 40 images of strip clubs throughout the country and the world, if possible. The rest is up to you. Good luck......
Photo by: Unknown.
This image is only meant to reference the story idea above, it was found online and should by no means be copied or imitated. It's posted purpose should only be viewed and used as stated references.
WARNING: This electronic transmission contains confidential information intended only for the above named recipient. Any use, distribution, copying, or disclosure by any other above named recipient is strictly prohibited. If you received this transmission in error, please notify the sender by return e-mail and delete all copies of this message. Corsican lap dances are the registered trademark of Olivier Laude. The use of sexual innuendoes containing the words " Lap, Corsican, or Dance" are strickly prohibited without the author's explicit and prior consent . This message is the property of Olivier Laude or its affiliates. It may be legally privileged and/or confidential and is intended only for the use of Olivier Laude or its affiliates. No one but Olivier Laude or its affiliates should forward, print, copy, or otherwise reproduce this message in any manner that would allow it to be viewed by anyone but Olivier Laude or its affiliates, not originally listed as a recipient. If the reader of this message is not the intended recipient, you are hereby notified that any unauthorized disclosure, dissemination, distribution, copying or the taking of any action in reliance on the information herein is strictly prohibited. If you have received this communication in error, please immediately notify the sender and delete this message.