LP Cover Lover: The world's greatest album covers

Being a blogging blogger means more than just putting up old album convers with naked women on them, but right now it seems like enough.	I spent the entire weekend finishing the final piece, The Forever Spring, for my upcoming cd of electronic orchestral works, Sun Transform System. I am too tired transcribe the poetry these masterpieces elicit. Maybe tomorrow.

I first found Hiltron on myspace, due to the fact we share a passion for the wacky world of 14's Gallery of the Absurd. I was immediately attracted to Hiltron's darkly humorous, satirical photographic manipulations.

The subject matter: the vacuity of modern-day celebrity worship in our culture, of which Paris Hilton, mafia daughter, porn tramp, of the freakish bone structure, lazy eye, and bizarre body-part proportions, is the alpha and omega.

We are in the middle of five constitutional crises—there is only one reason the citizenry has not stormed Washington D.C. and the White House to run the homosexual Republican crime syndicate out of town—but the networks are all Anna Nicole, all Paris, all the time. (Hint: that's the reason.)

And now Hiltron has launched Hiltron's own site, Planet Hiltron.

This one killed me. Anyone who has read any part of this site will know I am often lost in the music and culture of my youth. I mean, look at that collection of losers. P-Diddy? I must say I respect the man for making a fortune recycling rock songs from the seventies and eighties, laying some lame-ass nursery-rhyme chorus over the beat. Go Diddy. The Olsen Freaks? The vagina travelogue girls ... Britney, Lindsey, and Paris?

Fools rush in ... 

(Be sure to click on the pop-up so you can study Hiltron's fine work.) 

Ditto my JFK obsession.

And I like Hiltron's politics, too.

Planet Hiltron.

Her hair of

floating sky

is shimmering

glimmering

in the sun

 

 

I found this photo

on MySpace,

but now I can't find the

page again to make a link.

 
I'm not sure why I find this photo
quite so mesmerizing, but I do. 

I forget how I found photographer Jordan Matter's site, "Uncovered: Busting Out in the Big Apple," but who cares, now that I think about it!? We just like pictures of naked girls ... uh ... I mean ... women.

One finds, much to one's delight, all shapes, sizes, and ages of women cavorting topless in various locales around the city.

"I had a meeting with a casting director from LA. Without a glance at my headshot or resume, and not even a decent introduction, this stranger looks at me, all 5 feet and two inches, 125 pounds ofme and says,'You need to lose twenty or gain thirty because where you are right now, I can't do a thing with you.' A bit thrown, but not wanting to be rude, I asked,'Can you elaborate on that?' To which she replied,'Your face says ingenue, but it wouldn't quite work, and I can't put you as fat best friend because you are not exactly fat.'" --Katy, On Broadway

Jordan Matter on his work: "This is a collection of photographs featuring bare-breasted women in public around New York City, often presented with interviews exploring the issues of body image and sexuality in America today. The informal and humorous nature of these images celebrates women without sexualizing or objectifying them, while creating the illusion of a tolerant world in which shirtless women go casually about their lives."

"The magazine racks are filled withwomen basically naked. When I get dressed to go out, I wear things that are basically showing my boobs anyway. It's not trashy. Everybody does it." -Julia, on the subway.

 
time to sing...

Thank you girls!