Hello, and welcome to another issue of your favorite thing in the world, “Dirty Filthy Snuff”. I’m Lou Ford and I’ll start this issue with the usual “What Really Chaffs My Nuts”.

What really chaffs my nuts are things like this:

Exploiting someone’s death with the purpose of making art.That is what German photographer Thomas Demand did, he recreated as an artist piece of Whitney Houston's last meal as an artical in the New York Times arts section of the April 27, 2012 weekend edition reported. Now I know that someone like Whitney Houston is an icon, and let’s face it as with all icons, they are immortalized. Take for instance James Dean, or Elvis, or Marylyn Monroe. Thought I do have to say I have never heard of an artistic representation of the toilet Elvis died on. Not like this artistic piece of Whitney Houston’s last supper. I mean that is kinda in bad taste. I also know what you’re gonna say, "but artists depicted have Jesus’ last supper many times". And I would answer yes that is true, but also first off we weren’t there to personally witness it; the whole story of Jesus and his death wasn’t necessarily written from a personal account, it is a story that is open to interpretation, and it wasn’t a story that was written, and the paintings weren't created with the explicated purpose of exploiting that man’s death for money, and gossip. Well at least not in the beginning. Let’s be honest, the most corrupt and evil organization next to the DMV is the Catholic Church. I mean electing a former Hitler Youth as the next pope, a boy scout with fucking artillery, really a stellar choice.  And the other thing is that Jesus’ last supper was important, it contained an important part of the plot, and that being that Jesus told his 12 disciples, among other things, that one of them would betray him. It wasn’t the last meal ordered from room service before he drowned in a bath tub due to complications from an addiction to crack cocaine.

I do get that death, as much as we civilized people may not want to admit, is a subject that interests and fascinates us, still there are some things that are just done out of bad taste. Take for instance the car that James Dean had died in. “Little Bastard”; after his death it became a long sought after piece of celebrity memorabilia. Again I get that celebrities are icons, and that is an example of the price of fame, but let’s be real, how would it be taken if an artist did a piece on jonBenet Ramsey’s last supper.

Could you just image, the artist is presenting it, saying “This is the spagettios laced with roofies, and the organic apple slices she ate, before suffering a semen filled death in her basement. Now moving on, the next piece I created is the basement, and the interesting thing I did was I decided to use the icing for cinnamon buns for the semen, and I think with the way that it dried …” That would be controversial and completely disrespectful, but I guess that’s art huh?  

I mean a groquestic painting done by Salvador Dali is considered art, but porn,
 well that is just a cheap excuse to exploit women, not that I’m denying that in some cases but while it may seem that way we all have no problem calling up a stripper for a bachelor/bachelorette party cheering as they dance, but then calling them whores the next morning. See, that’s another thing, we as people desire, and treasure the exotic, the dirty, and kinky as well as the sincere and romantic. If it wasn’t the case then there would no fucking porn industry. If that was the case then there would be no 40 year with too much makeup trying to act like a tween and there’d be no frat boy or out of shake cubical dwelling I.T. guy waking to it. If the need wasn’t there there wouldn’t be legalized brothels in some U.S. states would there? But that’s not what this rant is about. YES! THIS IS A FUCKING RANT!

A RANT! JUST LIKE THIS!

A RANT! THAT’S THE PURPOSE OF THIS BLOG IN CASE YOU HAVEN’T CAUGHT ON! IT's MEANT TO BE FUNNY, NOT OVERTLY OFFENSIVE, HOWEVER IF I HAVE, OR WILL OFFEND ANYONE THEN I AM SORRY.  MOVING ON!

But seriously, what is it that makes something art. Why the hell are some things ok, and other things crossing the line? Why the fuck are slasher flicks where the young teen age girl who is always a blonde, and always in a bra and panties always being butchered by the masked killer an accepted genre, and other things aren’t. Blood and guts is okay even though we all know that the Chester down the block is staying up late jerking off to the carnage, and lets’ be honest we all know it, but we still just accept it. I’m not saying that censorship is the way, but I think we need to get our boundaries straight. Which is more important, the fact that van Gogh was a magnificent painter, or the fact that he was nuttier than a shit house rat and sliced off his ear to give to a woman he was in love with? I mean would Albert Einstein be famous if not for the damn Atomic Bomb? Honestly, we got plenty of death row inmates who have last meals, why don’t we have artistic interpretation of that? Why is it okay for us to be obsessed with serial killers, feel the need to  watch shows like Hoarders or Locked Up, make jokes about rape, the Holocaust, homosexuality, sexy, AIDS, but one thing is said about September 11^th, and you better pump the brakes cause that ain’t funny. Well, that is unless it’s our enemy. Such as this:

       

But before we go further here's a quick comerial break if you will:

This moment of good parenting is brought to you by Herpies simplex A. Because just like children, it's the gift that just keeps on giving, whether you want it or not.

So I guess the real point is what exactly is art, what exactly is too offensive, or inapropreiate to be made into a exhibition to be presented to other's.

Are crime scene photos of grizzly acts really art? 

They got books on it, all about it, crime scene photos. I mean who wants to see what that creepy high school janitor did to the body of his dead mother after he strangled her with the strings of her apron while she was watching reruns of the Donna Reed show. But why is that okay. How about this picture:

Is that picture art, humorous, or distastefully disgusting? I mean there’s a whole story here. These women could the former descendants of Three Mile Island nuclear power plant, the residents who live up by the Indian Point power plant in NY. One day the ladies were working in the cafeteria of the power plants, there’s a melt down and before you know it their clitoris have mutitated into gigantic penis that shame even the largest horse cock. Maybe the mutated clitoris have a mind of their own, and they sing songs like “Baby Got Back” or “I’ve Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts”, or “I Am Woman”. Maybe these are the transgender/transsexual patients in Brazil or Thailand that are trying out their new equipment. Who knows, and that’s part of the beauty in some cases. See, it is true that a picture speaks a thousand worlds, the only problem is dose everybody need to hear those words? Think about it like this, the fucking Nazi proganda poster were in many instances amazingly effective pieces, but do we need a coffee table book about them? How about this, the serial murder John Wayne Gacy

 had done many sketches, paintings, and drawings while he was awaiting execution, after his death his paintings, and other art works were sold at auction.

 The first man to do this was an autograph dealer Steve Koschal. Apparently Steve had commissioned many of those “art pieces” from Gacy himself. The Paintings went for anywhere from $195 to $9500.
 One painting in particular depicted Disney style dwarfs playing baseball against the Chicago Cubs. Steve had gotten many hall of famers to sign the painting under the pretense that they had no idea who the artist was. There are exhibitions that apparently are still going on. While 25 paintings may have burned in 94 by 300 people including the families of Gacy’s victims in Naperville, Illinois. Still, some could say that it is extremely offensive to idolize the art from a murder. Here is a perfect example of that, in 2011 the Art Factory Gallery in Los Vegas had auctioned off one of Gacy’s paintings for 4,500 as well as other paintings, sketches, and audio recordings of Gacy’s to raise funds for several charities. In response to that the National Center for Victims of Crime asked that the gallery not include them in the sales.

So, I’ll ask you again, is that art? Is it okay to praise a sexual murderer for his artist abilities, as well as trying to make a profit? How about being so ballsy as to fucking sell a serial murders art work to raise money for the National Center for Victims of Crime? John Wayne Gacy, the man who enjoyed dressing up as a damn clown and then raping and murdering teen age boys, and yet despite the outrage,
 we still have no problem forgiving a little bit due to his artist ability, but we all have some form of fucking problem with homosexuality, or porn, or vulgar language. I really don’t know what else to say. I know that art takes many forms, from painting to sculptures, to live events, but still I think we got to figure out our boundaries, and fucking decide is it really artwork if it is a recreation of a trouble person’s last meal, or is it really right to decide to have an exhibition of a murders art work for the public to see. If I decide to start slaughtering dogs, to paint beautiful images with their blood; once it gets out that I knocked off Fido for the sake of the art work, would I be fucking forgiven? You tell me?  Oh yeah, by the way, I am not immune to this either.

Until Next Time

Lou Ford

FIN    

Hello and welcome to another, yet another issue of "Dirty Filthy Snuff". I was away, out of town and I've had some catching up to do. While I was in the process of this I came across something that I thought was magnificent, stupendous, and amazing. 

So this is what really chaffs my nut. What really chaffs my nuts are imaginary friends.

Do you remember what it was like to imaginary friend? That one being that accepted you for all that you were, enjoyed everything you did, and protected you. It was the most important thing in your life, and no one else could see it? Weird huh? Why? Because your a child, and a hallmark of almost any childhood is the advent of imagination. Yes that thing that helps your mind grow, reassuring your parents that your developing normally. That is until this happens ...  

I mean that's the danger of having an imaginary friend, the threat that the delusion will become reality. One day your playing with Bob the Construction Builder, and the next day your trying to give your brother a pair sand box shoe's due to the fact that he stole your plastic army men. Maybe that didn't make any sense, so at first your just playing with your new stuffed Bear named Pooh, and the next day your mauling your mother's arm cause "Pooh" is teaching you how to be a bear. I guess that's why they give kids Ritalin, huh? I mean that's why I was given it. I think, or was it cause of my scout master? Who was it that taught us about stranger danger? And seriously what the hell makes the phrase "Stranger Danger" so fucking fear inspiring that it could actually make a child not accept candy from a stranger. And for that matter who really came up with the phrase "Just Say No To Drugs"? I mean I know that the Reagan's where trying to help the child of America, but seriously just look at Nancy.    

Now that you have, really have you,. Just look at that face, and tell me is that really the face to tell you not to do drugs? Honestly Doesn't she kinda resembles a fruit bat with hair? With that face I would imagine that she'd actually cause a child to try drugs. I mean she's a humanoid bat woman, I'd expect that as a child her face resulted in me having psychological problems. But How the hell did I get off the topic, on right I got ADHD. Or was that after I got my head stuck in the the railing? No, I think that wasn't it, I mean I don't think so, I mean all I remember is being hyper, my mom hitting me and then everything getting fuzzy, and then I had to go live with a foster family for a while. But why am I talking about that, seriously. Imaginary friends kick ass.! Why? 

Do you really have to ask that question? They do cause you came up with them. They won't make fun of you, they'll do whatever you want, they'll stay as young as you want, and they won't ever leave you. Why cause you thought the fucker up, and if by some chance that friend does leave, you can come up with another one. Which by the way why the hell is it cutie for a child to have an imaginary friend, but if an adult does, then they're crazy or creepy. I mean it's the best thing in the world, just ask the lonely guy who has become a masturbating master, or the wife in a failed marriage. Her husband only turns back into himself after her orgasm. Imaginary friends are the best, I mean where would economics be with out  John Nash and his imaginary friends. He won the fucking Nobel Peace Prize, and he had several imaginary friends. How bad can imaginary friends be? Their not as bad as those Teletubbies. 

Yeah, you heard me right, the fucking Teletubbies! Man's imagination has come up with some pretty horrible things, but nothing quiet as evil as the Teletubbies. What you don't believe me. Take one good look at Tinky winky and tell that you don't see a demon overlord who doesn't want to enslave the human race. Yeah, we laugh now at the toddler targeted TV show, but just wait until one day when we all wake up in some red or yellow jump suite with a but flap and an antenna surrounded by a blue sky, rolling green hills, overtly talkative flowers, a sun that has the face of an infant, an happy infant, and bared wire and watch towers where the minions of the Teletubbies watch over us as a loud speaker plays loud gibberish speeches made by Tinky Winky with the sound of "Eh-ho", and "Uh-oh" being repeated so many times that you honestly come to believe that you are actually stand on the precipice of the abyss that leads into hell, and that jumping into that place would be a welcomed relieve to oppression. Damn you BBC and PBS!  

But I'm getting off topic.

But seriously, where would we be without our imagination? Where? There'd be no Alcoholic suicidal Russian novelist, no Looney Tunes, no fucking South Park, and God forbid no mother-fucking Family Guy. Shit, think about it, no damn theater, films, TV, karaoke; we just be a bunch of modernized, Technologically advanced Puritans or Mormons. We'd be like the Amish or the audience of the 700 Club. I mean if there wasn't imagination then there'd be no spoof storyline based, hardly well acted, or believable, but nevertheless hardcore erotic porn. I mean no babysitter who uses her body to pay the pizza delivery boy. No magic jinns who happen to grant sexual wishes. No busty female cops who's uniforms just happen to be daisy dukes, a belly shirt, stocks, black stiletto heels, and a case of bisexual lust so incarnate that her tools for interrogation included a chest of dildos and live sex shows. No more of this:

or this:

Not without imagination? Come on just admit it, we all have or had imaginary friends. They're great, but for anybody out there who doesn't believe me than look at this:

( Photo by Jason Tamvakis)  

Look at the picture above. She's pretty, a model and look a she has a stuffed puppy puppet as a best friend. Looking at that it doesn't seem to bad, does it? And for all you guys out there, just be honest she's hot so it doesn't matter if she has a stuff animal as a best friend, or if she fucking nuts, cause ya just wanna get laid. Imaginary best friends are the best things in the world. "Ted" comes out this summer; staring Seth Macfarelane. Till next time. 

Lou Ford.

FIN