A nuclear green alien robot baby with his daddy’s matching lime-green hair. A morph suit dress that resembles a cross between the eponymous character from Alien and Charlie’s Green Man from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. A Balenciaga sleeping bag that could be mistaken for Mugatu’s Derelicte line from Zoolander. The blanket from Roseanne‘s sofa. … Continue reading
HBO’s documentary Woodstock 99: Peace, Love, and Rage, directed by Garret Price as a part of their Music Box series, seems to pose Woodstock ’99 as a seminal concert shitshow, like 1969’s Altamont, that somehow, in its dissolution into hormone-driven madness, which included chucking $4 water bottles at Wyclef Jean and The Offspring, rolling around … Continue reading
That’s all folks! This is what a disarmingly cheery sign, battered and mangled and a little bit dusty, reads—or approximately reads as it is missing a few pieces that were presumably blasted off—in the exhibition galleries depicting the aftermath of September 11th in the 9/11 Memorial Museum. Placed above a singed file cabinet, melted into … Continue reading
“Topanga’s hot today, Manson’s in the air,” sings Lana Del Rey in the second verse of her song “Heroin” on Lust for Life. And who doesn’t sense Charles Manson, his acid-headed Family, and the echoing terror of the Tate-LaBianca murders in these sweltering and wildfire-choked days of early August? These murders that occurred from August … Continue reading
*waves American flag wildly* Well, hello there, dearest Filthy Dreams patriots! What’s that? Why am I feeling just so proud of our fair nation on this 4th of July? Maybe it’s because I finally believe in the American dream again! Sure, we all know that the post-World War II dream of a suburban house, a … Continue reading
If Lana Del Rey’s music had to be defined by one drive (other than driving fast), it would be the pursuit of freedom. Inextricably tied to the failed promise of America, Lana’s conception of freedom is lawless, wild, and always elusive. Continue reading
Who among us can deny the alluring draw of golf carts circling and darting here and there in formation set to the rhythm of their instructor’s whistle and shouted directions, “Ted! Ted!!”? Certainly not me. Only a couple seconds into Lance Oppenheim’s intoxicating documentary Some Kind of Heaven, which opens with the faint sounds of … Continue reading
“Is it the end of an era? Is it the end of America?” Lana Del Rey answers her own questions with a semi-confident, “No. its’ only the beginning…” But, now maybe the answer is: yes? Of course, I’m talking about the Trump fanatics’ attempted coup, siege, sedition, treason, trash insurrection, whatever you want to call … Continue reading
*blows party horn* *shoots confetti cannon* Ahhh…Happy New Year, dearest Filthy Dreams readers! Get ready for that champagne hangover after battling the hoards of amateur drinkers on these final days of 2019! …or 2020. What year is it? Did we have a year? Or is this still some cold sweat alcohol-poisoning fever dream after choking … Continue reading
Dildo madness. If I had to sum up the past four years in two words, that would be it. Or maybe it’s completely unfair to categorize four years of viral grifts, racism, xenophobia, pussy-grabbing, Sharpie-huffing, COVID-infecting, manic-tweeting, Big Mac-engorging, Fox News-binging in relation to something that provides pleasure. However, madness seems on point. Yes, of … Continue reading