AWESOME

Kaiseki. Coffin Hotels. Dirty panties in vending machines. Visitor Q. Robot Coke machines that walk the city. The Boredoms. And now...foiling thieves and urban bandits with mailbox, manhole and vending machine disguises. Only in...well, you know.

Somebody send me a plane ticket to NYC

Richard Prince is the Royal Trux of the art world, appropriating and devouring pulp and popular culture from muscle cars to cowboys in a way that the people that work at The Wire and Artforum drool over. The Guggenheim is holding a little Richard Prince retrospective (Spiritual America) until January. Hopefully it will move around a bit, maybe all the way to LA, after that.

In other kinda NYC news, the New York Times features an interesting article on the remote island of Faro (population 572, off the coast of Sweden) in today's issue. It sounds like the kind of place--dirt roads, no banks, no schools, lot's of old people, rain, desolate views-- that might be either extremely boring or the most amazing two or three days of your year. Ingmar Bergman used to live there and, apparently, was protected by locals who informed Bergman stalkers that they had no idea where he lived. All this being said, there's a more lengthy article somewhere in the NYTimes archive from an issue of the magazine from last summer. I'm adding Faro to my list somewhere between Bali and Oman.