While I continue with my training for the lung cancer olympics and practise landlord-lifting for my imminent rent tribunal battle—Oh, baby, I know from living—I continue to hone my incomparable skills in the art of The Fob that Offs You.
To this end, distracting you as with a cheap, shiny object, I have invited world-renowned Canadian photographer, author, pundit and irrepressible adulte terrible David DeLaRoddis to guest blog for me.
Let me pause for a moment while you let that sink in.
DelaRoddis, you will recallkllllll is.ss.kjruuathro;’;’ pe]]]
Sorry! Nodded off! LOL!!!
Anywho, DelaRoddis, you will recall, is author of the of New York Times #1 Best-Seller, “Photography is Friggin’ Hard Unless Of Course You’re Me™”, and its soon-to-be-published, sure-contender-for-New-York-Times-#1-Best-Seller sequel, “Gee, Willikers But Photography Is Hard! Don’t You Wish You Were Me? HA HA! I Thought So! But You’re Not!!???™“.
Best known for his shameless self-promotion and unrelenting 24/7 visibility, DelaRoddis has ruffled more than a few fine feathers with his controversial opinions on contemporary photography.
On Cindy Sherman:
Oh puh-leeease! Any loser can roll out of bed, kit up like Nancy Reagan and lie in a pile of vomit, but without a forty-thousand dollar Hasselblad body with digital back and a ten thousand dollar 85mm Zeiss lens, you might as well drink your Blix bath! Cindy, darling, enough with the cant already! Your Kodak® Instamatic® awaits!
On Nan Goldin:
Well, far be it from me to spoil the illusion. But honestly, that needy bitch PAID me to smack her in the eyes with her Louboutin pumps so she could stop taking pictures of squirrels in the Champs Élysées and cash in on the whole “women’s lib” flash-in-the-pan. Look for her operating the passport photo concession at your local Walgreen’s, if she ever figures out which way to point the lens. Unbelievable???!!!!
Photography is hard! Friggin’ hard! Unless you’re me! Just ask Joe McNally about that little incident involving a certain world-renowned Canadian photographer wearing a frayed security harness, a certain person’s less-than-firm grip on someone’s ankle and the observation deck of the Empire State Building! Joe, baby, you are so friggin’ busted!
World-renowned Canadian? Oh, honey! Just consign me to oblivion and be done with it!
So you see.
And now, without further ado, here is David DeLaRoddis to present his horribly-expensive-and-only-necessary-because-you’re-too-retarded-to-realize-you-have-zero-talent workshop: “Just Go Friggin’ Shoot Yourself! : Mastering the Art of the Selfie in these Troubled Times”.
DeLaRoddis: Thanks, Dave! You know, with its heady combination of crude exhibitionism and technical incompetence, the selfie is the quintessential art form of the Internet age.
Today’s tip: Create a little mystery! Take a look at these two examples I knocked off during the limousine ride here:
Check. It. Out!
I know what you’re thinking: This screams “creativity” so friggin’ loud you can hear it all the way to Des Moines!
Fun Factz: Think different! Everyone and their cockapoo photographs eyes, lips and cheeks—but you know better! You know Photography is Hard! LO-friggin’-L!
I promise once you learn to think bridge of nose and upload this baby to Facebook, you might as well quit your day job so you can sit by your land line telephone all day waiting for National Geographic to call.
When to use: Try using this baby as your profile photo on Grindr! It’s a no-brainer choice to complement your kinky profile fantasies about bad cops, public nudity and extreme anal penetration with objects, and take it from me—if you remember to stay logged in while clearing U.S. Customs, you’re well on your way to making at least two of those come true!
How To Get The Shot: Using your most grating, petulant tone, order one of your resentful assistants to autofocus on the moist, red bit where your cheap Shopper’s Drug Mart reading specs bite into your tear ducts, then do a big snort of blow.
You heard it first here!
Example # 2 uses that “Rule of Thirds” you’ve heard about to create its magical mystery:
Just spend one-third of your income on camera equipment, then read one-third of the manual—which means you will be forever whining, “Can anyone tell me what this little doohickey is for?”—
And of course, miss one-third of your loan payments on the Hasselblad body and Zeiss lens, leaving them repossessed and you posting “really fun and groovy-artistic” shots with your fake vintage Lomo then ruining them with High Dynamic Range filters.
HDR??? Oh, honey! Excuse the tears pouring down my face as I point at the monitor and laugh!
HDR guarantees your portrait sitters will look like they’ve been thirty years coal-mining, and your landscapes like rejects from a velvet painting correspondence course, but never you mind.
Those animated GIF awards from the “Really Fun!! and Awesommmme!!?!?! Fun Shots Unless They’re Better Than Mine In Which Case You Are, Like, So Totally Banned??!!” group on Flickr will assuage your heartache at the death in darkness of your pathetic career goals.
I mean, I’m sorry to make you cry and I could probably soften the blow.
On the other hand, Movin’. On!
Technical details: Nerd alert! Forty-thousand dollar Hasselblad body and digital back; ten-thousand dollar Zeiss 85mm prime lens @ f64; one partied-up crew of unpaid interns; and one limo driver named Wally who can’t keep his hands off me.
But don’t worry, petals. You can do just as well with iPhone.
HA HA! Kidding! I love you guys!
Facebook Life Event #592: Sensual Discovery
Today, as I was making lunch, I dropped a 2-lb (907 g) tub of President’s Choice Blue Ribbon margarine on the floor. As I started to clean it up, the phone rang. As usual I had to race around the apartment to find the phone, finally locating it in the bedroom.
After I finished the call, I worked in Photoshop for a couple of hours, then headed to the kitchen for a snack (Earl Grey tea; chocolate chip cookie).
As I entered the kitchen, I stepped right into the pile of margarine, which I had completely forgotten about.
The soft, cool squish of the margarine around my toes was surprisingly sensual.