Thursday, September 30, 2010

The Cleavage Pets™ — A NYC REALITY NOIR — episode 3

The Cleavage Pets™ — A NYC Noir Reality — episode 3!

HVV sent me this... the text only, I put the right pictures in for you — of course, the pictures the past would see would be in black and white, but I think you'll get the picture. It was the second of her pieces in LENSJOCKEY™'s published view of the future. Imagine this in 1933!

the neo depression
Straight from the future!

The country that blew the world’s mind — that’s us. And that’s a long story. But in TwoThousandThen — or T3 — there are still some people riding around in 1929 De Sotos — check this out! The same fucking cars! Oh, I’m not saying that some things haven’t changed. Nope. There have definitely been some new developments!
I suppose the sharper of my readers might have already figured out what has happened to our dear world in the exciting decades beyond now. If you can’t see what is happening when horseraces are held in graveyards, the news might not help you, but for those of you who can run in dirt that is alittle deeper — well —

Boardwalk Empire Bloomingdales
My friends, we the past of the future are being sold! We are the substitute for real creativity in the future! People watch pictures of us on TV and look at dummies of us in the stores dressed like us. The have nothing better to invent than us then! Decades later! With all their fucking self-impressing inventions… they can’t make up a damn thing to entertain themselves but us. Isn’t that fucking crazy? They want to come back to us! We must be pretty damn hot commodites. We were before their time! Hahah. Let LENSJOCKEY™ be the first to congratulate the future for it’s complete lack of imagination and real style, but super marketing savvy!
If the big important new future had something better to offer itself, they would have made it. You’d see it here! In the windows of Bloomingdales! And keeping up with the oh-so-timelyness of time and trend, they have introduced bedbugs to their attraction, in the hopes of seeming more authentic to the times! Classic I say! Bedbugs and the 30s go together like Busby Berkely, everyone knows that. It was a genius take-home advertising campaign!
But that’s The Re-publicans. And, there is hope!

Bergdorf Goodman window
Hang onto your tomatoes — A store mannequin has given birth to our saviors! I know, I know, it’s hard to believe dear readers, and it happened a little before the time I am showing you, but it is the very reason that there is no more separation of church and state. You need church to do that, and in T3, they realized that church is so last millennium, because of a miracle.
The mannequin was the miracle. Her name is Gretchen Bergdorf, she is one of the Fifth Avenue Bergdorfs — not to be mistaken for the 58th Street Bergdorfs or (especially) the 57th Street Bergdorfs. Born into a life of “being in the window,” exotic settings, outrageous costumes, makeup., a cool inhuman demeanor… not really what one would imagine for the mother of the future of true spirituality. Or is it? Most other “gods” and their relatives, they always looked pretty Hollywood-ready to me.
I am not kidding people, readers, you. Have faith! Please please continue on with me!

OMG — TiggerJames Ferguson is what every homophobe HATES.
Well, there he is. I know I know I know I know he is not what you want one of your saviors to be, this Tigger Ferguson, the way you have been brought up, but I promise you… in the City Of New York, of the mother Gretchen Bergdorf, of the Fifth Avenue Bergdorfs, there was born unto us some saviors. Some fucking saviors!

The reality then is that... that the center of fashion is the center of spirituality, I know, it must take great faith to believe, really I do… but that is where people look to. Acceptance is the new faith! Accept that and you are saved!

Bunny Love dreams
Another miracle — the mother Gretchen had a daughter, and her name was Bunny Love. I am so serious. No boyfriend, nothing! Look, if you can believe the costumery and superficial denials of reality that engage the religious mind of today, in 1933, a miracle only decades in the future with details of only slightly more believeable characters should not be that hard to grasp. You all already worship, I mean shop at the House of Bergdorf anyway. There is a god in Bergdorf if you really look hard enough, that is the reality. Where is the god in church? Only faith tells you it is there. Acceptance will tell you that there is a god in Bergdorf Goodman. Not once but twice! AND in Bloomingdales, although a bit harder to see! This is why everyone follows NYC fashion, and they don’t even know it. EVERYBODY follows, the true religion, without even knowing.
I know it’s hard to swallow this information now, with the depression, but you should feel more comfortable knowing that the future understands you and your depression! They are only just starting to see this stuff even in TwoThousandThen… and they have their own depression to deal with! I am trying to do us all a favor by just trying to gain acceptance for what is to come. Those crazy kids! You think Jesus was accepting? Your fucking god didn’t want a daughter! Who’s did? I mean, we’ve all bought this for centuries… that is, you did. I just couldn’t believe it. That’s why I saw this. This is the latebreaking NEWSFLASH before it’s time!
Fashion can tell that religion looks old. Fashion changes. Fashion and shopping give comfort. To the future, religions are just old fashions. That is the reality that is the new heaven. Reality is where everyone wants to go! And reality is actually here, like bagels, swimming pools, electronic media (I can explain that later friends —)

This is a portrait of God. The true god. This is the god that cannot be fooled, this is the god who has heard it all. This was the god found on a sidestreet near Times Square. This was not the second coming, this was the first coming, of the fucking truth. Straight from the future! People could feel the power. God was found. Now if it surprises you that she looks like a grandmother… well, if you look closely, there is god in grandmother. I don’t see it in Father anywhere do you? Grandfather, sorry, no god there! This is just the truth I am telling you! Isn’t grandmother the one who ALWAYS cares? “God” as we all know him, has been taking the credit for Grandmother all this time. All this time. On faith, not evidence. Grandmother is the new God.
As you can see, in the future we don’t have stained glass for the grandmother god, we have photography, a truly magical and mysterious artform. Because photography is so closely linked with reality. And the truth is in black and white.
To make this clearer, dear readers, I include here one of the worshipful songs of the time, TwoThousandThen — sung by The Criminal Religion themselves.

Shien Lee
“The New Religion — is fucking reality!
Oh when I was young,
I’d wished for something like this — when I saw praying as the begging it is!
something to see me through
something that would REALLY fucking HELP me —

Why oh why didn’t you?

Religions were made up by men (evidence has seen — and we of the future are having our say!)...
to explain (sortof) some mysteries the best that he can (it seems)
but guess what?
a lot of men’s stories and a lot of men’s schemes well, A-men
we can’t see that they work so well, so obviously, okay?

You can’t build an asshole in your mouth and blame it for shitting

You can’t put priests into power without some icky pedofeelings

And I have always wondered at the statements, like these — that God created man in his own image, when the UNDENIABLE truth is, the evidence PROVES — WE are the ones who made God in OUR (man’s) image…
And we all, got it wrong, for CENTURIES!

Is that really so fucking hard to see?

Well, OUR religion says, get this, A-men, our religion says A-men —
That men are not O-kay!”

Some song huh? That’s the song of TwoThousandThen! I swear. That’s as close to a heavenly choir as you are going to get on this earth. I hope you my readers will agree.

“Don, I am gonna call all these people you’ve shot “The Deck” — because they have to be played. I just wanted you to see alittle of what I am doing… I can’t send you everything.”

“I am so thankful that you have been shooting the 24/7 people of the time you are in now, without people like this I could not do what I do… any guy with a camera can go and get a couple of magazines and see who to shoot to make money. But what you did for years is consistently incredible to me. I need the 24/7 people, people who live their lives 24/7, write their own worlds, people who create their own lives, these are the people to trust! And these are the only people I could use! I don’t even have to ask how you found such people, I am glad that I put my faith in you. I cannot wait to drop these people on the past!”

Shien Lee, she's something big!
Shien Lee, it seemed to me, would be Queen of “The Deck.” I knew what HVV meant when she was talking about decks… it’s not the way I’d thought when I was shooting Shien, and saw her effect on men, and what she was doing with her life… but I saw her genuine qualities… immediately, and powerfully. As they say now — “Duh!”

She was young and sexy and exotic and smart, and she had the NYC scene in her hands at night. I was tired myself of all the bogus overrated “personalities” chosen by ignorant lifeless boredsters — “personalities” chosen from fantasy “sets” — TV and movies… that had such control over people that people actually applied writer’s qualities to actors who simply acted. I saw most personalities of the time like the popular breast implants… celluloid was just silicone to these people where I was.

“The Deck,” The Deck indeed was a good way to put it. We were playing another deck entirely. A deck based on the 24/7 people who ALWAYS know themselves. Me and HVV, our fantasy for the past was based on the present realities… using reality as a fantasy… seemed so revolutionary and subversive in the climate of the days, of both times!

the art of surveillance
Matthew, not your Saint Matthew — I called him DJ 78!

Cornelius Loy Jr.
Cornelius Loy, Jr. — plays an instrument called the Theremin — I could only imagine what HVV would say he was doing — to our friends in the past, he’d look like a man from space! What would she make of that glowing singing rod… I had shot him in dingy club rooms… far away from the past.

Michael T — black glam elegance
Michael T ... was a “promoter” like Shien Lee. As I saw it, promoters were the preachers of the day. I knew that HVV would make something up about him that could not help but blow the past’s collective religion-warped minds. The Deck The Deck The Deck… what a beautiful way to put it. To me, The Deck became my unorganized religion of the truth and reality. In the Holy land of New York City, the city EVERYONE worshipped… and I loved Los Angeles. The Sixteen Chapel is the new Sistine, if you know what I mean.

Muffinhead of Ceremonies
This is Muffinhead. Hahaha, unleashed on the past, I could see the confusion and chaos he could cause. Can’t you? They were all the wildest of wildcards to me, and the game HVV was gonna play with them made me want to be there with her, but I had to be here.

A Deck full of wildcards. A city full of stories to me made.

Michael Bloomberg speaking at the Bronx campaign office opening.
The face of New York City’s mayor, Michael Bloomberg — perhaps the people of the past would understand a less flashy character… but I doubt the way HVV would present him would make the past comfortable… as I think she planned to marry him off to Heather Holliday…

A firebreather from Coney Island! Haha. The mayor’s own girlfriend would just not cut it as far as we could see. Diana Taylor seemed like a surprisingly intelligent partner for a mayor… truthfully shocking in it’s own way — but HVV probably was not gonna see her as useful for our plans.

Donny Vomit
“You know the drill,” she’d probably have Donny Vomit say. Donny was a deck definite. He even looked like someone you’d see in a deck… if Jacks had big nails and drills in their hands instead of swords. Hahaha. Couldn’t wait to see how HVV played the Donny card. Couldn’t fucking wait.

Me and HVV were like two halves of a brain. I didn’t know which halves we’d both be, but that’s what it was like.

Jennifer Miller? Hahaha, who would she become for the past? She’d drop machetes as fast as she’d juggle them. A bearded wildcard of a woman. Funny, silly, and realistic…all of these people exist and are real! Is Heather telling our Jennifer a state secret? What’s the story?

Selene Luna in Bergdorf Goodman's windows
“Selene Luna is fantastic!,” HVV would write me later.

“She is like a Velazquez painting in your shot Don! She could be anyone! Thank you thank you thank you! You may make my dreams come true!”

We’ll see. The Deck would deliver I bet.

— to be continued —



here are the other episodes sofar:

episode 1) —

episode 2) —

episode 4) —

Thursday, September 9, 2010


The Cleavage Pets™ — episode 2 cover

“Damn,” she said, “Don, I can’t figure out just, just how to start doing this.”

Holly’s last words reverberated in my head. It was interesting seeing what she could and couldn’t do, what she did and what she didn’t, and when she did things. It WAS sortof a weird new thing, even for where I was now, “decades” after she’d actually said such things, I saw no evidence that anyone else had ever tried to do what she was doing… here where I was.

The Empire State Box
“I know I gotta do stuff like this,” she said “it just makes sense to make it seem more like I am actually there in the future, and by the way thanks for sending the letters in Don, mwa,” she mock kissed me. “Puff,” she puffed. I love it when you can hear that someone is smoking, over a phone… or the thing I had to listen to her on.

I was shooting Lydia, and I was hoping HVV could use this one. She wanted pictures that had a resonant quality.

“If you want to blow people’s minds, you have to have… there has to be a certain amount of familiarity or it won’t work… I think. What I am doing is about the past and the future… it just, I just want something THERE. Like — so I can totally make up things to go with these pictures and there will be a resonance to pick up on… the cool has to be believable, you know what I mean Don.”

“With an element of the actual past so obviously there in the pictures, it will be easier for the past to digest the imagery, and perhaps even believe what I write, as long as there is real energy in the shots… this should work.”

Since I probably wouldn’t see what she was going to do with these pictures till a while later, it really was hard for me to shoot for the years and years as I did… relatively blindly to the actual narrative that would emerge. We had to trust me. It was a zen photography experience. But, the basic reporting was all we cared about in the beginning anyway. Holly and I concentrated on that.

the way she looked at me that night. OMG as they say — I'm alittle too old for that, but the ocean of filaments and the damn divorce dust around her eyes, and the seashell and all the shit we've ever been through... well, you know it was my job to shoot h
“Fuck I love you,” I said without thinking. She started laughing. Right after this.

Right now I was trying to concentrate on shooting Lydia, but as you can tell, it’s hard for me to focus. But really, this is a big big picture. Just knowing how to think about it is a difficult challenge. I don’t want to miss things, and there is no map. I listened to my friends that I made, and didn’t pay attention to any papers or other “media” as I have found the call electronic information/entertainment outlets.

Goddamn, look at those eyes. I want to kiss you now baby. I want to wipe that look off your face with my dick. That’s right, you are the first bi-era, double timing, living the vida LOCA superlife baby. You. You are a part of the real Marvel Universe. Sexy.
To quote my mind.
“Fuck I love you,” I said again, and she laughed again.

Minsky Legs and spectators
Even now, sometimes, Lydia made me think of Diane. I wish she could have seen this. She almost got to, she could have. We all could have had a big fucking laugh over this shit.

I loved Diane, she would have helped me with this writing...

Noone is writing this down but me, there is no way anyone would ever know this ever if I didn’t write this, and it is a strange thing to know. At any rate, this is the only account that the future will have of this. “The past will never know,” HVV said over and over. But the future would, I would think to myself at the same time. HVV never knew I was doing this.
She only knew I gave her exactly what she wanted like I was her herself.

“And this internet thing you told me about is very interesting. Data is totally doable then?”

It was!

Tigger and Dirty Martini in Sag Harbor
Somehow, we could rig the machine we used to (among other things) transport me here to carry the data back to where HVV was. That’s the machine in the background of this picture. That’s Tigger James Ferguson, and Dirty Martini,

“Don, we are gonna tell the past that The Capitol is Coney Island, and that Tigger is Mayor of Coney Island.”

“Oh — and that Dirty Martini is a General.”

“Maybe others of these times,” (and HVV definitely meant both times — 1933 and TwoThousandThen) “think black politicians are radical… but till I see a man like this man Tigger you found, in office… I am not impressed.”

Me, when I saw this, I had to shoot it for HVV, it was just what she would think is funny. “We’ll tell the people that he’s at an art show, that will cover up the machine being there, hahah. Mayor Tigger James Ferguson and General Martini attend the exhibit by Donato Giancola at Richard J. Demato Fine Arts Gallery, hahaha. You would totally think that is an art gallery hahah.”

That was when I started to really catch on. What was the truth what was the past what was the future, what lies… could mean to history. It was really screwy, because it wasn’t a linear development with us. At all. Sometimes it felt like it was threatening to melt my brain like she said how porn from where I was now would melt people’s minds back then. But at least that could be understood far easier than the initial creation of such a machine as we were trying to make, just from pictures and text.

“They are going through the same things where you are now — as they were where I am! Where we were! They even talk about it [the past] — as a way to figure out what to do! Can you believe how lucky we are? That we have that to work with as a reality to show… to show that progress is an illusion.”

That was uncanny, that’s for sure.

“Progress is an illusion like a new suit of clothes is an illusion, I just bet your ass, Don.” HVV knew that, knew that before history would prove her right decades later during times no one could have imagined.
Look, people still had horseracing!

Badass John R. Velazquez.
And guys like John Velazquez.

HVV loved my horseracing/jockey coverage… which in itself was actually super ahead of it’s time…

“It hasn’t changed at all,” HVV said, looking stunned at the first of the racing pictures I showed her. "Shit, look at that!"

this is the first good jockey picture I took
“Look I know and trust you Don, but seriously, that horseracing still exists and that it still looks so the same, and that — look, you have to start covering these guys, now, I mean I never saw that as happening, and we can totally use these pictures because they are so close to both eras. So close. Perfect. What’s this guy’s name?”

“John Velazquez,” I said.

She’d have no idea why I did not sound as excited as she did… HVV knew all about Lydia, but she had no idea I had been shooting the tracks for a couple of years already… and the track stuff as I’d shot I just knew after awhile that that is just what she wanted me to do. I actually did take this relatively seriously, almost as a battle, and this is the kindof thing that the leader would want to know.

“He doesn’t know anything about this right?”

“Uh, no.”

“Fucking, oh Don, people would totally relate to this shit right now!”

“Yeah, I uh, I really thought you would like these… since we didn’t talk about it ever… you know, but then one day I saw an ad in the paper and it stopped me in my tracks. You know what it was like when I just got over into T3…” Nothing looked familiar.

“Haha 1933 was the racing year for news too we got a bump from the fight — hahah, Don.”

When I asked her how she thought that 1933 was the best year for doing what she wanted to do, she told me that a superficial change, like the one she imagined would happen — “if in fact change happened at all” — would not stop what she thought would happen, judging by the way people were.

She wasn’t answering my question hahah.

In the end, she found the machine in 1933. That just happened, and we got lucky. The genius year she chose to send me to, was TwoTousandThen. Where another depression was happening! And that wasn’t all. I haven’t asked her how she came to that year, I am not sure I could understand, and I am not sure HVV does either.

“Timing is so everything.” That was her version of religion, time. She followed it, she worshipped it — “You don’t call yourself lensjockey if you don’t feel time and timing, pace, making time-based decisions on the fly.”

Anyway, it was too bad for me that Johnny looked just like then.

Horseracing indeed was one thing that I found that just had not really changed. In fact, the only real action in that scene (after decades) was happening now… of course. It wasn’t doing too good, I’m not saying it was doing good, but it was still around.

The few times HVV asked me for some special image, say, a composite, she gave me such great direction the results were stunning. The first one she wanted was of a horserace running out of a cemetery.

“Hahahah, I doubt that many people in 1933 could comfortably deal with horseracing in cemeteries. See if you can give me something — people will think the world just went to SHIT.”
And she was right. I even sent images of composites I’d made with tape… and people reacted to them in even stranger manner.

last curve in the Woodlawn Invitational Cup
Tape itself had only recently been invented in 1933, I found that funny…

That "The Woodlawn Invitational Cup" was the first feature story she published under the “operation.” That story broke from the gate like a winner, and caused a commotion for months. She just had a really good way of putting things together… I bet she had fun writing that.

"...disgusting, sick, crazy."

That was what people really said about these pictures in T3 — imagine what they would say in 1933, I couldn’t really finish imagining… somewhere along the line the concepts would all bottleneck and my thoughts would jam entirely.

We never had time to talk about what she was doing after I came here to T3. But somehow, we had such a rapport, a creative understanding that I could think for her here sometimes. This picture I sent along with “The Woodlawn Invitational Cup” images. I thought she’d weave that into some spell.

“Thanks Don! That will look great in black and white, Lydia’s ass, totally pops. You are a genius matching that stonework, hahah from such different locations, and the lighting is perfect! Shit!”

Looking at her ass, made me think of John Velazquez.

The sun shines on John Velazquez's ass
Because I had just found out recently that they had been having an affair. And I still had to shoot him at the tracks. Now especially. I didn’t bother telling HVV what had happened, I showed her the racing stuff and that was my responsibility, but I couldn’t figure out how to deal with it yet myself. This shit me and HVV and Lydia were doing was too important to fuck up with emotional shit… but it was gonna drive me crazy.

John Velazquez
He knew I knew, but he didn’t know why I wasn’t doing anything and mistook that for me being an idiot — the smiles I'd started getting in the shots could just be mistaken for sportsmen courtesy, but they weren’t. I’d started getting these looks from the jocks that were different…

Calvin Borel, making me think.
I believe it flew around like gossip does, and then I think, well, now I think, I think quite a few people know. I think Calvin knows, and Edgar…

shit. Things started to make more sense…
Shit, I don’t know what to do. This is not what I need… and it didn’t seem like Lydia really knew what kind of guys these jocks were, but it doesn’t matter why it happened, only that I know it has and all of this together would make anyone’s head fucking spin.

But I’m a patient guy.

It was sort of like robbing a bank




here are the other episodes sofar:

episode 1) —

episode 3) —

episode 4) —