MNZ: JPG issue 9

I have a shoebox full of pictures from magazines all cut to the same size (which I don’t know the dimensions of because I use a scrap piece of cardboard as my template for cutting), from which I take shit for a variety of artsy fuck projects I do. Right now, it’s embarrassing, but once my teenage knack for smoking weed from beer cans triggers Alzheimers, all this shit is gonna be mentally handicapped Raven Mack genius collage, so long as nobody goes back and sees this and sees my half-wit art was done with full-wit (so to speak). Anyways, I bought this magazine because it had a bunch of great pictures in it and for no other reason, but it did get me to thinking once I realized there was a magazine called JPG next to all those Photobug, Shutterbug, Photofag, B&W Print, etc. art photographer magazines at the bookstore. I tend to get too many weird street art artfag digital design magazines, and it seems most shit is digital based nowadays, which means we are moving away from people taking actual pictures or painting for-real lines on canvas (or plywood or whatever substrate is handy), and people just co-opting things and getting all Shepard Faireyish with it. This means, for the art world, it’s like the ‘80s with rap music and the start of sampling. Nowadays in music, dudes can be considered awesome for finding rare weird music and making mixes to release upon the internets, but who the fuck is playing psychedelic soul chaos that’s awesome that doesn’t immediately get co-opted and screwed-up by the stupid hippie jam band scene? Nobody. So our field of sample-able materials is going to wane, while more and more people jump into becoming home computer super-producers. Same thing with art, just further behind on the curve of lack of new shit. It makes me want to take up painting or start doing really retarded intricate psychedelic tissue paper collages on 4x8 sheets of stolen drywall, but shit, I have enough stupid pseudo-creative activities to distract from actually trying to be able to afford all the bullshit in my life that comes attached to monthly statements.