The Big Picture’s latest collection of hi-res beauty focuses on the Gulf oil spill, one year later. No more problems, everyone’s back to work, says the Logan who lives in a fairy tale. Turns out the region’s delicate ecosystem thrives on oil. Birds and fish are making love, churning out new generations. A butterfly landed on a rock in an estuary, flapped its wings twice in the sunshine, then flew off to go make butterfly love.
2. The King of the Universe/Master of Puppets/Mr. Dynamite/HBIC in a NY Mag interview.
Other than turning up in those files on Biggie’s murder the FBI released, cutting off his own arm then chewing it up and swallowing it, or showing up on the doorstep of apt. 680 and announcing he’s moving in to base the hell outta me every night, nothing Brandon does should be able to surprise you. It’s April 2011, in this, the Year of Our Lord, and he’s been rearranging the pieces on the cosmic chess board for a couple years now. So I rolled my eyes when I heard about that upcoming album title because his “Look at me, listen to me” hustle is unrivaled. Seemed like a big ploy to make RSS feeds quiver, go dumb with excitement. It worked. (Please consult the Internet–maybe type in “Lil B” and “gay,” then stand back).
But then I remembered that, just like a dude isn’t necessarily gay because he’s grindin in his tiny pants, an artist isn’t necessarily thinking about selling product when he names his product a certain thing. I’m deferring to my hopes and dreams here, embracing my inner Pollyanna, and just going with the assumption that Lil B really means it when he says he’s a gay ally, a supporter of GLAAD. Lil B cleaned up all the oil in the Gulf, solved the Biggie murder, made love to a butterfly, showed up on American Idol and cut off his own arm and fed it to Mister Cee while Faces of Death 7 played behind them on a huge screen. Lil B has successfully introduced me to post-skepticism. I’m living in the Brandon Epoch and for that I am eternally glaad. Still waiting to hear what he thinks of the topless pics I sent him; I believe he and I would make a good duo, despite our one tiny difference – I do support putting other people down (as long as the people being put down are not me or anyone I care about, or a poor person or a disabled person, and as long as the putting-down is done with stylish flair, over a beat).
Harlem – “Gay Human Bones.”