Johan Olander, “President Pottymouth” (2017), inkjet on matte photo paper with hand-painted enamel additions, 8.5 x 11 inches.
President Donald J Trump’s official portrait is so rich in infantile machismo that mockery is inevitable. Look at it for minute and you can’t but help to want to distort it in order to show its true nature.
Via Hyperallergic.
Some ideas were best discarded. This is one of them, from 1916.
“The rowboat bath is the newest contribution to the physical enjoyment of living.”
“The rowing-bath has been perfected in a western sanitarium for the purpose of adding zest to the morning plunge. It is valuable as a curative measure, but it may also be used with enjoyment and benefit by any one.
The rowing-bath consists of a metal container which is attached to the nozzle of an ordinary tub by means of a rubber cord sufficiently strong to give the element of exercise. Entering the tub, the bather attaches the rowing device and turns on the cold water. As it pours into the tube he scoops up the water and, pulling the container toward him with a rowing motion, empties it full upon his breast, thus securing the zest which accompanies the pleasant pastime of buffeting surf. This bath is a diversion from the ordinary “shower” on a hot summer day.”
I wonder how many people bought this ridiculous thing before it sank into obscurity. Looking at that picture, all I can envision is what a mess it would make, and it wouldn’t be the male enthusiastic ‘rower’ who cleaned it all up, either.
Via The Public Domain.
Here’s a fun thing to do on a Wednesday evening if you’re in the area:
When the area now known as Lincoln Park was City Cemetery during the 1840s to 1860s, it was a regular smorgasbord for grave robbers — medical schools tended to have a “no questions asked” policy, and a fresh cadaver could pay as much as a month in the coal mines.
Author and tour guide Adam Selzer leads “pupils” on a walking tour of Lincoln Park, showing relics of the old cemetery, a tomb snooping demonstration, and repeating stories and quotes from the archives about all of the body snatching that took place on the grounds — featuring enough tricks of the trade to launch your very own career. Humorous, entertaining, and educational as all get out.
Tickets are $20.00, and all the details are at Atlas Obscura.
Violette (Violet). J.J. Grandville, Les fleurs animées. This is the last! Tomorrow begins William T. Horton.
Myrte (Myrtle). J.J. Grandville, Les fleurs animées.
Pervenche Dessechée (Dried Periwinkle). J.J. Grandville, Les fleurs animées.
Lys (Lily). J.J. Grandville, Les fleurs animées.
Lin (Flax). J.J. Grandville, Les fleurs animées.
Bal (Ball). Reine Marguerite (Chrysanthemum frutescens), Campanule, Fuchsia, Pied d’Alouette (Delphinium), Muguet (Lily of the Valley), Pyramidale (uh, Ornithogalum narbonense?), Liseron (Field Bindweed). J.J. Grandville, Les fleurs animées.
Laurier (Laurel). The Character is in the Erratum below. J.J. Grandville, Les fleurs animées.
Jasmin. J.J. Grandville, Les fleurs animées.
Immortelle. J.J. Grandville, Les fleurs animées. The character of Immortelle is here.
Allegorie der Tulipomanie [Allegory of Tulip Mania], by Jan Brueghel the Younger, 1640s. A satirical commentary on speculators during the time of “Tulip Mania”, an economic bubble that centered around rare tulip bulbs. — Source.
Singerie — from the French for “Monkey Trick” — is a genre of art in which monkeys are depicted apeing human behaviour. Although the practise can be traced as far back as Ancient Egypt, it wasn’t until the 16th century that the idea really took off and emerged as a distinct genre. Some of its most famous champions include the Flemish engraver Pieter van der Borcht (whose 1575 series of singerie prints were widely disseminated), Jan Brueghel the Elder, and the the two Teniers brothers, David Teniers the Younger and his younger brother Abraham Teniers. Into the 18th century the genre saw great popularity in France, particularly in the guise of the “singe peintre” (monkey painter), which offered up a perfect parody of the art world’s pomposity. With monkeys, along with apes, being our closest cognates in the animal world, they proved the perfect medium for the satirising of society, which so often thinks itself “above” the animal kingdom.
Kwakzalver [Quack], by Pieter van der Borcht (I), ca. late 16th century. A charlatan doctor sells a cure (seemingly for hangovers, though perhaps for hair loss) — Source.
