the beautiful dustbowl that only lasted 2 seasons

i'm rewatching the first season of Carnivale and loving it even more now that i already know what's going on. i hear that was its problem with not going to #3, but i can't see how a show so unique conceptually and visually could die unfinished, but alas. if you like the styles of the Depression and carnies as much as i do, it's parfait.



and it has the best opening sequence i've still ever seen:

everyday is Halloween for juggalos

oh, Insane Clown Posse.

when i was in eighth grade, i was in love with my friend's much older (17!!!) brother, M. M had somehow already acquired an entire body of tattoos and piercings, had a full part-time job, and chain smoked like a union boss. he also listened to ICP in his car, which i was blessed to sometimes be driven to school, Taco Bell, and exotic downtown Royal Oak skate shops in. i tried to like them for his sake, but was, um, a girl who read books and stuff. but like most other Michiganders who grew up in the 90s, i can't help but have a soft spot for this hometown duo:



juggalos, as the family of ICP fans are known, embrace their freakdom as putting an in-your-FACE on the underbelly of the (mostly white) lower class.





part thug life, Satan worship, Lord of the Rings nerd alert, and just plain ridiculously terrible music, the hidden part of ICP is they are international fashion capitalists; a true juggalo owns enough ICP t-shirts to go under enough ICP hoodies to match his ICP shoes so he can kick back and read an ICP magazine with ICP ads for more ICP stuff.



as much as the Williamsburg art crowd like looking like they don't have a trust fund, i don't think they will ever co-opt this particular mode of anti-bourgeoisie.



or begin to understand it.

somewhere between Goths and Victorians

how i feel a lot

after school

SOA is SOL

Sons of Anarchy premiered its second season this week on FX (yes, i forgot it was a channel too).


it's nice seeing a classic heart-throb (Charlie Hunnam) with unstylishly unstyled long locks and a thick neck (no skinny jeans and colorful coy-fish forearms here, nope!)


Ron Perlman (Hellboy) is formidably sized enough to sorta pull off club president, but Katy Segal (Peg Bundy) really shines as his wifey. her clothes are always a little perfectly too tight, too low, too sheer; her novelty accessories from Hot Topic meets JC Penney; her skunky post-punk dye-job 5 years behind the time (unless you hang in certain east Detroit burbs) -- and she wears it all really well on a killer 50+ year old bod.


and HENRY ROLLINS debuts as a competitive white separatist, dapper in minimalist skinhead workwear.


despite the wardrobe department attempt to rough these guys up, they look pretty clean for the most part: shampooed hair, strategically placed tattoos, newish leather, good teeth, good skin. although a couple of the older dudes do appear to be real alcoholics. the youngish women who show up as extras in the rowdy "clubhouse" scenes actually look most authentic, with imperfect bodies, tackier attempts at trash glamour and glazed expressions. too bad you only see them for brief flickers between getting mock cunnilingus and just plain drunk with the boys. ah well.

from ghetto to fabulous?

my love



meet my new love