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Jesus and the Prisoners of Hadeskaban

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Having permanently scarred some eyes last week, I thought this time we’d stick to good old-fashioned drug-trip-inspired gore with a touch of irreverence.  I present to you the “Descent into Limbo” or “Harrowing of Hell,” by Pieter Huys, whose work with squirrel bagpipes and sky jousting we've looked at previously.

Source
So Jesus comes down to free all the souls, wearing his superman cape and underwear.  Most of the souls seem to be enduring some typical gnashing-of-teeth stuff, but a few of them seem to be in a pretty bad way.


We’ve got a guy literally hacked limb from limb by an angry land shark with a meat cleaver.  Also a couple others are being drowned in a bucket by a mutant Chinese dragon with breasts.  There are at least three legs in there, so maybe they’re actually making people soup, and the meat-cleaver guy is just preparing the ingredients.


Next to the soup kitchen, a naked man is being held in one demon’s lap while another writes something up.  Possibly it is Vogon poetry.  Also there is a giant mutant rat-frog trying to get in on the action.


Moving up, a bunch of people are hanging out in a giant maw.  One guy seems to be doing a tribal dance with a torch, while another does hell’s version of a beer bong.  A third just got off the bong and is vomiting off the side.  So this is actually the Frat Party from Hell.


Elsewhere, in what appears to be a forgotten animation frame from Monty Python, a group of bird/egg/man/animals is being too manly to stop and ask for directions.  One of their helmets has a candle on it, for when hellfire just isn’t bright enough to light the way.


Hmm…giant bird snake charmer…possibly on a horse?  He’s got a man-leg in his saddlebag for a snack on the road.  Unlike the last group, he knows how easy it is to get lost around here.


Here we have the world’s saddest Christmas tree.  Devilmas tree?  It’s like the Charlie Brown tree, but with bottled human despair.

Finally, possibly my favorite part: Hell’s Quiddich.  


You fly on fire-breathing dragons instead of broomsticks, and have to keep your assigned human body on board.  Also you have a gun.  Well, one of them has a gun; the other one seems to be armed with a plunger.  It works for the Daleks, though, so who am I to question its fearsome potential?

Rocks On The Brain

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This edition, we look at a work by another 16thcentury Flemish painter, Jan Sanders van Hemessen.


The art book I first found this in called it “Removing Rocks from the Head.”  Although subsequent Google searches reveal it to be called either “The Stonecutter” or “The Surgeon,” I think that the first version of the title is the best.  Because that is what it is showing.

Apparently there was a belief that epilepsy was caused by rocks lodged in the brain, which had to be surgically removed.  So here we have a guy with minimal teeth and possibly poor eyesight performing brain surgery on a conscious patient with a knife at a fair.  A middle-aged lady holds the victi—I mean, patient’s head still, because that’s all you need for a procedure where you have a man getting his skull delicately split open with an animal horn.  Meanwhile, the old man on the right does calisthenics to pass the time.  Maybe he was the anesthesiologist, until he remembered that those didn’t exist yet.

If you’re interested, apparently there are a large number of items with this image on Zazzle.  Now you can drink your coffee from a mugdepicting the height of rock-based neurosurgical treatment!

It's Tough to Be the Queen - Part 5

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First, a bit of housekeeping: I’ll only have sporadic internet access for the next several weeks.  For all ten of my loyal readers, there will still be some nuggets of art snarkiness, but overall updates and general blogosphere activeness will be down.  Also, just to put it out there, you guys are awesome and thanks for reading!

Ok.  Back to our regularly scheduled “Fun and Awkwardness with the Medici Cycle.”  Last time she got married to her dream king by proxy of her uncle.  I guess it’s finally time that little Marie finally meet this new husband of hers!  


Well, not quite yet.  She arrives in Marseilles, but it’s France that runs up to greet her in his (its?) fabulous blue cape.  Everyone is super excited to finally have her in the same country as her purported spouse.  


Well, except for the man who is grabbing her arm as if to beg, “Please!  Don’t go!”  Maybe he’s an ex-lover.  Or maybe he’s just a supporter trying to save her from entering this barbarian land.

One of the happier attendees is this angel, who is so excited that just one horn is not enough to express his emotions.


Either that, or the other angel that was signed up for Welcome Duty called in sick.

Back to people who don’t look all that thrilled to be there, there’s this guy.


He looks like an angry pirate about to punch someone.  Although he might just be struggling in a tug-of-war with one of the sea monsters present.


So first off, there’s the old man of the sea, together with a boy who looks like he’s about to have an apoplexy while playing a rousing ditty on the conch shell.  They are accompanied by a couple of rampaging sea stallions, which are doubtless causing problems for a boat that is trying to dock smoothly. 

Besides these guys, there are also a few plump, sexy naked ladies helping out and GOOD GOD LOOK AT THOSE TENTACLES.  


I’ve heard that women’s thighs can have crushing properties, but she could literally wrap her “legs” around you and wring the final, whimpering breaths from your body.

Theoretically this cast of sea monsters is attempting to “procure her safe arrival” and “help escort the queen to her new home,” but the painting suggests otherwise.  


The captain knows that when your entry to port is greeted by nude Man-Kraken splashing around your boat, it is time to bring out the cannons.

Mini-post: Strange Women Lying in Ponds...

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Last time we looked at François Boucher, we learned he had a thing for mythological paintings.  Here is a rather milder scene, depicting the birth of Venus.  


The story goes that Venus was born of sea foam.  Here she seems to be vomited forth by a giant fish.  Along with some tastefully placed blankets.

Bleeeeh.  Knew I shouldn’t have had that second bowl of worms.

The thing that caught my eye, though, was the pair of baby-angels that are hanging out to witness her birth.  One of them is mauling a dove, with a disgusted expression.  

Ugh—sea foam skank alert!

The other carries a torch and looks like he is trying to drive her out, exorcist-style.

Begone, foul sea-vomit wench!

 And thus goes the birth of the goddess of love and prostitutes.

Hollywood and the Cathedral of Doom

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Dear readers, I recently had the good fortune to accompany my partner on a work trip to Anaheim, California—best known as the home of Disneyland.  While the partner was off working, I spent a lot of time searching for things to do that did not involve spending lots of money or worshiping the Great Mouse.  In my meanderings, I inadvertently discovered an amazing place that combined both excessive consumption and “worship”: the Crystal Cathedral.

Church!
Opened in the 80s, the Crystal Cathedral is the world’s largest glass building.  Its weekly church service “Hour of Power” was broadcast across the country, and it featured speakers such as Arnold Schwartzenegger and Charlton Heston.  With over 3000 padded theater-style seats, it also allows overflow visitors to experience the service from the comfort of their own cars in the lot.

It’s not just the one building, either—although the main sanctuary is by far the most impressive.  There is even a map to show you how to find your way around the megaplex.


There’s a “Welcoming Center”…


A “Family Life Center”…


A “Tower of Hope” with carillon…


An art gallery (with no doors, so I just sort of zoomed in through the windows)…


A Box Office…


And this crystal tower complete with a marble prayer-dome.


 As you can imagine, this kind of religious theme park cost a lot to keep up and running.  The establishment certainly encouraged donations….


But when that wasn’t enough, and charging $25-30 a ticket for entry to their Christmas and Easter pageants (the latter of which included the scene with Jesus throwing out the money lenders) didn’t bring it together either, they went bankrupt.  It is now owned by the Catholic Church, which presumably is rather more fiscally capable of maintaining this sparkling Jesusland.

So you may be wondering why this place is being featured in an art blog.  Well, in part it is because this place was so fantastic and ridiculous that I felt the need to share it; but also it features a whole collection of life-sized sculptures dotted around the place that really deserve a look here.  So, let us begin the tour. 


From the entrance, everywhere there is sidewalk there are marble engravings with the names of donors.  It is the religious Hollywood Walk of Fame, only instead of doing anything impressive, all you have to do to be included is donate a suitably obscene amount of money.


The first thing you come to is the marble temple below the crystal tower.  Inside there is a rotating marble pedestal, upon which is a crystal block with a laser-etched 3D Jesus attempting to claw his way out of it.  There is a padded ring surrounding it on the floor to allow for more comfortable adoration of the crystal.

The sanctuary itself is indeed a glittering architectural wonder.  We’ve already seen the “Joy of Giving” statue at the entry; going a bit further inside we see the “altar.”


It’s not so much an altar as a giant marble stage to show off the massive pipe organ, choir, and a lighting setup worthy of Broadway.  Note the cross set off to the side so as not to obstruct the view.

A giant TV screen is, of course, a vital part of any church service.


There is also a fountain running the length of the sanctuary (switched off in the off-hours).  Is it for impromptu baptisms?  Wet Sunday-best Contests? 


Moving on, we come to the ladies’ room, which gets a mention because it was fancier than those in some 5-Star hotels, including marble pillars and floors, floor-to ceiling mirrors, sofas, and original Thomas Kinkade paintings.


Outside the ladies’ room we look at our first statue: the return of the Prodigal Son (note the ladies's sign emerging from the shrubbery).


It seems quite deliberately placed here; is this a subtle message encouraging women to return from their wanton feminist ways into the welcoming arms of the Father Church?  Stop worrying about freedom or personal responsibility, and go get gussied up before the luxurious mirrors. 


On close inspection, it looks a little like the Prodigal Son is feebly attempting to strangle his father.
 
Continuing on, Jesus waves for you to join him in walking on water.  This is actually perfectly possible, as the water there is about an inch deep.


There were several statues of Jesus surrounded by children, and in all of them he looks uncomfortably like someone I would not want to leave my children with.



This is my favorite.  It’s supposed to be the finding of the lost sheep, but his face has this terrifying glee on it, and the kid next to him looks like she’s saying, “Please, sir, don’t slaughter our only lamb for your unholy sacrifice!”


Outside the Memorial Garden, there is this eagle that apparently ate something terrible.


Then there is this.  The story goes that the Bad Guys et.al. brought this woman caught in the act of adultery and tried to get Jesus to say they should stone her, but he says that the one without sin should cast the first stone.


The artist has certainly captured the Cartoonish Bad Guy look. 


However, Jesus isn’t so much standing up for her, as ducking out of the way and saying “Yeah, you shouldn’t stone her (but please don’t hurt me)!”


The lady herself has opted to turn the covered part of herself away, leaving her suggestive adulteress back open for rock-pelting.


For the finale, we have this amazing depiction of the Holy Family.


This was the only statue in the place that was painted.  However, close inspection reveals that a key bit has been left untouched.


As Mother Mary looks on with a slightly spacey look of peace, Baby Jesus is apparently the descendant of the Terminator.


Although his skin and hair have been left a gleaming silver, we note that his eyes have been carefully painted blue.  Because of course Jesus had blue eyes.


At least Father Joseph has the decency to look horrified.

It's Tough to Be the Queen - Part 6

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Finally, finally the couple meet.  Although apparently after Marie turned up in France she still had to wait a week to see him because ole’ Henry was too busy with one of his mistresses.  A lovely start to an ideal marriage, as shown here.


They’re so very much in love they are literally floating on air, or on cloud which is like air.  Everything is sunshine and rainbows and peacocks.  They waste little time exposing themselves to each other despite being outdoors and kind of surrounded by people—because let’s face it, they’ve been married without seeing each other longer than most celebrity marriages last at all.  Also, nothing is sexier than being watched in your fist nuptial encounter by a small crowd of naked children.  


 Wikipediafurther notes that it is “Hymen who unites them.”  And how.

The sexual tension is so great that Henry is carrying actual lightning bolts.  This eagle also seems remarkably ok with being used as a royal footrest, possibly because it is concerned about being zapped with lightning. 


Below them is a cart pulled by lions ridden by more naked children with fire.   



The internet informs me that the figure in the cart is a representation of the city Lyons, at which we should all have a hearty chuckle at classical visual puns.  Personally I suspect Marie hired the lion-cart to fend off all of Henry’s mistresses from interrupting her long-anticipated wedding-consummation night.

The Mating Game (With Beer and Bagpipes)

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We’re looking at Pieter Huys’ work again today, although this time with 100% less naked bums and animal demons.  No, this is a simpler time, a simpler theme…and that theme is bagpipes.


"The Bagpiper Player and His Wife" is apparently “humorous treatment of the heterosexual joie de vivre.”  The bagpipes represent his man-bits, and the tankard, her lady-bits.  So apparently in life a man has a massive bag, some reedy bits, and whines a lot, while a woman has the capacity to put away a gallon of lager without batting an eye.  I’m less sure about whatever it is the woman is holding.  Is it a slice of buttered bread?  Does that represent the sexy buttery-ness that results from storing your bagpipes in a lady’s tankard?  She even brought the bedsheet to the performance, wrapped around her head. 

He doesn’t look very happy about this whole situation.  He holds his bagpipe defensively, and his expression says, “Dammit Mildred, you know I don’t have the teeth for your buttery bread anymore!”

Successful Family Feast Tips: Provide Hats and Alcohol

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In honor of the American Thanksgiving celebrations, I thought today we’d take a look at a feast painting.  After a search for large images of feast paintings revealed first John the Baptist’s head on a platter, and next a bunch of animals feasting on raw rabbit hearts, I decided that despite not being specifically Thanksgiving-related, this image would do.


“The Bean Feast,” by 17th century Dutch painter Jan Steen, shows a rollicking party indeed.   


You know things are wild when small children are standing on the table and a nun is helping them drink up.  Chug, chug, chug!


Behind them, some of the family is having an impromptu Funny Hat Party.  The child is literally a basketcase, and a man appears to be auditioning for the role of the Tin Man while beating a griddle with a spoon in a fit of hysteria.  The third man just seems to be desperately sipping from a straw; I assume he’s got a keg of hard cider back there.


Here is the crazy uncle of the gathering.  He is mixing something in a jar, and based on his expression I am willing to bet it is not the gravy.  Or if it is, it undoubtedly has some special ingredients.  I am not sure what the story iswith his hat, but it looks a bit like a feathered squid died while devouring the side of his head.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Bonus Post: Black Friday Edition

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Thanksgiving gets feasting, but the day afterThanksgiving has long been associated with another tradition: lining up and mauling fellow shoppers to get a discounted Shiny New Thing of the Year, or as many SNTotYs as one can grab without being stabbed in the face. 


This painting by 16th century Dutch painter Cornelis van Haarlem, “Massacre of the Innocents,” is actually really horrific.  But because I am a terrible person, this vignette made me decide Black Friday was the time to bring it out here.


These ladies are ready to do ANYTHING for a great deal.  I assume they are scratching that man’s eyes out for a terrific new flower-print tunic.

Overlooking the overwhelmingly horrendous slaughter and the extremely prominent male buttocks displayed at the front of the painting, the other bit that caught my eye was this group:


That nude man has possibly the most unlikely “about to murder someone” pose that I have ever seen.  It is a pose that says, “Excuse me, miss, I have something I think you’d like to see.”  And behind the main group there is a lady that appears to be performing the YMCA dance.  So at least someone is having a bit of fun in all this.

Stay safe this megashopping day!

Military History: A Child's Guide

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This week we have something a little different.  In the Lafayette College Libraries’ East Asian digital collection, there are images from a set of 48 “Japanese History Study Cards” from 1935.  Aiming to “make entrance examination preparation truly fun,” it was supposed to teach elementary school children phrases about Japanese national history.  Of course, Japan was gearing up for Super Fun War Times, so all the cards are related to “soldiering and martial values.”  And thus you get some bizarre blending of children’s drawings and implied brutality.

Some of my favorites:

"The bomb-dropping flying corps."


See?  Dropping bombs is a friendly activity.  The little green pellets of friendship rain down from a happy little bluebird.  Well, maybe happy is the wrong word.  Those eyes kind of suggest “mind control technology.”

"The Yell that Accompanies a Bayonet Thrust."


You should always keep your mouth wide open while bayoneting someone, the better to catch the spray of blood and gore and consume your enemy’s power.

"Octopus-shaped gas mask"


Poison gas attacks are adorable.

"In the blink of an eye, it takes only a single blow."


What is this soldier striking down in a single blow?  Is it a beaver?  A giant squirrel?  I did not realize these things were major national security threats in Japan.

"Heave-Ho! The artillery squad pushes the gun carriage."


A naked baby leads a rabbit, a masked monkey and a bear in a cannon charge.  Note that both the rabbit and the monkey are more clothed than the commanding baby.  I am not sure that promoting infants to commanding positions is a wise tactical strategy, but then giving a cannon to a bear is also questionable.

"The Robotic Soldier Works Splendidly."


Holy crap, Japan had robot soldiersin WWII?  And they were evil robot soldiers, from the look of things.  How did they not win?  Also, I suppose those are supposed to be bullets hitting it, but they look kind of like angry cotton spiders. 

I must say that I feel deprived, not having had such educational cards as a child.  You can see the full collection here. 

Getting Ahead in (Still) Life

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This week we take a quick look at “Vanitas Still Life” by 17thcentury artist Aelbert Jansz van der Schoor.


That is some pretty still life.  In fact, I would go so far as to say that it is the opposite of life.  There was apparently a whole still-life sub-genre to remind one of the inevitability of death.  A still death painting?  Clearly they would make excellent conversation pieces to have on your living room wall.

I would also question Mr. Van der Schoor’s hobbies that he had access to a pile of skulls for his model, some of which look pretty bashed in.  Was he a grave robber?  Maybe he was actually a badass gang leader, and he painted this after a gruesome street battle as a warning to other would-be challengers to his position as master gangbanger/artist.  I like to think that the jawbone was his weapon of choice.

And for Dessert, Murder!

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In my Thanksgiving post I mentioned that a search for feast paintings turned up some fairly non-Thanksgiving-appropriate results.  Well, maybe appropriate for some families, but I don’t think I want to know.  I thought this week I would cover one of those.

We have a Peter Paul Rubens painting that is not related to Marie de Medici.  Instead of a megalomaniac queen and her polyamorous husband, this time we have a good, wholesome Bible story: The Feast of Herod.

The story goes that Herod divorced his wife and married Herodias (because matching names are totes adorable!), the wife of his brother.  John the Baptist pointed out that this was perhaps not the most moral course of marital action, which made Herodias go a bit murderous wench-y, because women are evil and emotionally unstable.  On Herod’s birthday Herodias’ daughter Salome dances for his party guests, and her moves are so sexay that Herod promises her whatever she wants as a reward for her bootyliciousness.  Instead of asking for a new chariot or Spring Break in Rome, she follows her mother’s wishes and asks for John’s head on a platter.


And here it is!  They bring it out right in the middle of the party, because nothing gets the good times rolling like a still-bleeding decapitated head.


First off, what is this child doing here?  All the adults are hushed in awe that a human head is being given as a gift by the birthday boy, and this kid is like, “You know what would be mischievous?  Playing under the table with my puppy!” 


Then we have the presentation.  I assume the lady with a stick in the head’s mouth is Herodias, so her delightful revenge explains her calm smile, but what about the woman behind her that looks even happier?  She gazes on Salome with an expression that says, “Oh, I am so proud of you for fulfilling your mother’s slaughterhouse dreams.”  Is this just commentary about how all women are horrible?  Also, what is going on with the mouth stick?  The expression says not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I suppose it doesn’t mention gift decapitated man-heads.  And Herod’s expression seems to be, “Oh dear, I shouldn’t have let her ask for this after dinner…how quickly can I get to the vomitorium?”

Finally, there is this guy.


He gazes at the grey, decaying head, and seems to think, “Mmm…looks so delicious.”

Mini-Post: Friar Week

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This week our entry is short and sweet: “Friar Pedro Shoots El Maragato as his Horse Runs Off,” by 18th/19thcentury Spanish painter Francisco de Goya.


This is a painting of a friar calmly shooting a man in the butt at point-blank range.  I really have very little to add.

However, as that makes for an awfully short post, here is another picture with a friar theme!  I came across it during my recent journey to Los Angeles in the El Pueblo area.  It was unlabelled so I do not know the title or artist.


I DO know that it depicts this nightmare I have every time I open a book that a baby (or adult dwarf?) in a diaper and cape will leap forth and attempt to poke my eyes out.  Because you never know where anti-learning babies are hiding.

No Room at the Inn? Angry Baby Summons Pokemon

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Well, Christmastime has come once again.  Or the non-denominational winter holiday of your choice.  But for purposes of this post, we’re looking at a representation of the birth of Jesus Christ, in part because there are lots of such paintings, and in part because what kind of Kwanzaa-Chanukkah-mas art is available in the public domain?

(Note: there is probably lots of it, and it is probably pretty hilarious, but I am too busy to look right now.)

Amongst the wide offerings available on the theme of Jesus-birth, we’re going with one by 15th century Italian artist Antonio Vivarini.  As we all know, the story goes that Jesus was born in a manger because there was no room in the inn, and then a couple of shepherds and/or some wise guys turn up later on because his birth horoscope said that the stars would bring him presents of metal and things to burn. 


Well, it looks like there must be plenty of room at the inn now, because the entire country has turned out to see the baby.  And what kind of jerk wouldn’t give up his room to a family with a newborn?  Heck, I’m pretty sure some of those guys must be traveling with tents or a cozy motorhome with pop-out beds.  But apparently they are all jerks, because out in the open Baby remains, surrounded by incredibly sullen people.


Seriously, look at these guys.  This is just a small sampling, but nobody in the crowd looks happy to be there.  They’ve presumably come to pay homage to the newborn king, or because their daily horoscope said to hang around mangers for good fortune, or because they’ve been having visions of angels, but all of them look like they’d rather be home watching Judge Judy.  Even the parents.


The only excited ones?  The angels.  But I think they are excited because they have didgeridoos to announce the news, and who wouldn’t want to fly around with a didgeridoo?


Above the baby is a pigeon emitting lightning.  I assume this was the pre-evolved form of Pikachu.


Finally we have Baby Jesus himself, who is perhaps the most annoyed person there, as evidenced by the fact that he is kicking an old man in the face.  He must pack quite a kick, as the man has a cartoon-style shock aura around his head.  I kind of like the idea of kung-fu baby Jesus, irritated that all these people have come to sulk around him, but nobody is willing to give him a friggin’ bed indoors.

Happy holidays, everyone!

Rebels Without a Cause: Divine Edition

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This week’s artwork is a treat that I have been saving for a special occasion.  We’ve reached the end of another year without major horseman sightings or planetary core explosions, and also this is SARFT’s 50th post, which is almost as momentous.  Thus, I present to you the Fall of the Rebel Angels by Pieter Bruegel.


There is so much going on in the picture, you will see something different every time.  The following is just a selection of the first things that caught my eye.  It might be a fun New Year’s Day hangover activity to see what different details you observe.  If you look at it under the influence of other substances, I take no responsibility for the results.

So let’s begin with the bird-lizard unbuttoning its stomach to reveal a batch of cracking eggs full of blackness.  


I think a lot of women would prefer if they could just unbutton the ol’ womb to release their babies.  Seems like a lot less mess, anyway.  Maybe it was a feature that was removed from humans as punishment for their involvement with the fallen angels.

Looking on at the button-down hatching are a couple of adorable doggies wearing crowns.


There’s also a deformed pig with bad teeth wearing a red bedsheet turban and a crown of thorns laced with pearls.  Instead of carrying his knife somewhere inconvenient like a side holster, he keeps it strapped over his eye, in case anyone throws any vegetables at his face sideways.

From there, we move on to an upset-looking lady with disjointed elbows and nothing below her ribcage.  


I’m not sure what she’s contributing to the battle.  Maybe she has a supersonic scream?  I’d be screaming if I was reduced to half a torso and my arms were broken, anyway.

On the warrior side of things, there is the fearsome Sandwich-Board Man.  


He seems to have taken design tips from female fantasy armor principles: less is more. By covering his bum and key front bits, a token fragment of chain mail, and some pointless frills off the back of the helmet, he will be totally defended. 

But you know what is more fearsome than a scantily clad man with a scimitar?   BEES.


A flying tied-up dog-thing in a spiked collar is brutally attacked by a giant moth bearing a killer beehive.  HEAVEN’S ULTIMATE WEAPON.

Next to this stinging blow, we have Hell’s Kirby.


With fish fins and beaver teeth, the adorable video game icon is transformed into a horrifying soulless creature that will fly in your window and gnaw you to death before swallowing your bits and absorbing your life force.

Moving along with fishy things, here are a couple of whales with arms locked either in Kama Sutra passion or a death-struggle.


This one was mostly noted because of the horrified human face below them going “OH GOD MUTANT KILLER WHALE FIGHT. OR SEX.”

Next up: a mandolin-lobster.


The armor in the background suggests that robots may also be involved in this battle.

Last but not least, this poor fish-man is desperately trying to defend his basket of innocent baby fishlings, while a “good” angel calmly shield-punches them into oblivion before chopping their heads off.  


At least, I assume it’s supposed to be a good angel – it would certainly make a more interesting story if the normal-looking ones were the rebel angels, causing havoc amongst the innocent creatures below.  In any case there is a dinosaur skeleton there, suggesting all these creatures once roamed the land and were tragically made extinct.  Maybe dinosaurs were actually either rebel angels who suffered divine retribution, or were destroyed by rebel angels running amok.  Either way it paints a badass picture of an angel-dinosaur battle.  And it's important to learn all theories of how the Earth and its life came to exist or cease to exist.

So that’s what I see.  Sadly no one wants to go with me to art museums anymore because they “can’t unsee these things” and “the nightmares last for weeks.”  Thus, I have to share these things with you, dear readers.  Thank you for reading, and have a happy, apocalypse-free New Year!

Embarrassing Baby Photo, 18th Century-Style

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Dear readers, I have just returned from a journey involving 13 time zones, so my brain is currently about as on top of things as a particularly cobweb-filled crawl space.  Thus, this week’s belated entry will again be rather short so I can get back to the important tasks of catching up on other people’s awesome blogs and passing out in the middle of the day.

We return to the work of François Boucher, who we have encountered hereand here.  This portrait of Louis Philippe of Orléans has both 100% less nudity and 100% more baby transvestitism than those previous paintings.


Young Louis is sporting a lovely gown and pair of Mary Janes, guaranteed to make him the envy of the ladies of the court.  Also he must have had an aunt that was a little crazy on the hat-embellishment crocheting.  Either that or the hat is there to cover some seriousbirth defects.

On his lap he has what I initially thought was a terrifying midget cat on a sled.  I have since read that it is a cat toy, which is much less funny.  So just pretend you didn’t read that.

One might point to the gown-wearing as an early example of responsible parenting not forcing pre-conceived notions of gender on the child.  However, besides the toy cat and horse, his other main plaything appears to be cards.  Clearly he is already a gambling addict at the tender age of two.  Look at the bags under his eyes; he must have had a long night at the card parlor before sitting for his portrait.  The gown may simply be the result of some early wining and womanizing, grabbing the wrong garment in the morning as he toddled out of the cradle.

Medieval Drug Addict Killer Rabbits (NSFW)

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Today I came across the website “Discarding Images,” dedicated to medieval book paintings.  And then my afternoon was lost.

It all started with this.


I can only assume this is a rabbit hyped up on drugs attempting to steal a kite from a knight who is distracted with doing the Invisible Limbo.

Besides kites, medieval rabbits had a variety of hobbies.  Here is one playing bagpipes made out of other animals, serenading a man/saytr with a bear head coming out of his butt.


Sometimes rabbits got into disputes, which would be settled via the time-honored dispute-settlement system of jousting.  This one, riding an old man that has developed snail armor, takes issue with a dog that has forced an unwilling rabbit to be his steed.


Other rabbits have less mercy.


But let’s face it; rabbits aren’t the only ones who get into violent fights.  Humans are known for going for the throat in a blind rage.  And sometimes getting the throat isn’t quite sufficient to take out your enemy. 


After all, it’s only a flesh wound.


Speaking of dismemberment, apparently this depicts beavers gnawing off their own testicles and throwing them at hunters so they will not be killed.  The men look awfully smug at their haul of beaver testicles, and the “beavers” look like raccoons about to pass out from pain and blood loss. 
 
Now things start to get weird.


A man vomits into a cup and pees into a bowl while tearing at his hair.  At his side, Frankenstein’s bride seems to be in mid-construction, with heart not yet in place and the skull flip-top still unhinged.  I’m assuming it is female just because of some strategic blood flows, but the chest looks like it was sewn together using whatever pieces were left lying around.  Maybe the left figure’s bodily fluids are necessary to complete construction of the other one?  Either that or this is seriously the worst frat party ever.

On the topic of the formation of human beings, here is an interesting take on Eve’s construction from Adam’s rib. 


Eve is already orating before she even has a lower torso.  And Adam is already falling asleep as she talks.  This sets a precedent for all future male-female interactions.  Also apparently there were a lot of animal tongues stuck out at the formation of woman.  The animal kingdom was not too impressed with the development.

Some animals came to enjoy what human females had to offer, though.


The description says the nun is breastfeeding the monkey, which leads me to wonder how she has the breast-milk available in the first place.  Maybe medieval nuns just had some kinky taste. 

Finally, we end with the medieval version of goatse.  I recommend averting your eyes now.


There are an awful lot of pooping pictures in marginalia.  I selected this one because it appears in a Psalter.  Apparently some scribes were not impressed by the Psalms.  Either that, or they were just crappy artists. *badum-ching*

It's Tough to Be the Queen - Part 7

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I must confess that I have been putting off writing the latest installment of the Marie de’ Medici story.  The next couple of paintings just have not inspired me that much.  However, there are still more spectacular multi-story displays of hubris to come, so we will go through these two quickly to get to the gods and power-grabbing.  If you are new here or interested in catching up, there are links to the ongoing Medici Cycle series above.



First up: "The Birth of the Dauphin at Fontainebleau."




Here we see Marie just after giving birth to Louis XIII.  First we might note that the woman who just popped out a baby is wearing way more clothes than most of the people in the birthing chamber.  Evidently childbirth is much easier and neater when done on a throne.




She has handed over her precious newborn to the person you most want to have holding a child: a mostly naked man wrapped with a snake.  Well, it’s either a snake, or the baby has one freakish umbilical cord. 



Then we flash forward several years, to “The Consignment of the Regency.” 




Here dear Henry hands over charge of his empire to Marie.  Unfortunately she realizes that it is just a ball and not an actual empire, so he has to go off to war to get her one. 



This is pretty low-key for this series.  Apparently it was originally envisioned as a much more awesome painting with snakes and (probably) naked ladies, but it was all toned down to paint (ha ha) Marie in a positive light, which was a bit tricky due to circumstances that arise a bit later…



TO BE CONTINUED. 
WITH MORE NUDITY AND SNAKES.

Europe Overcome by Bull

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After last week’s disappointingly normal entries, this week we are back with more from the mythological naked lady lover, François Boucher.  It’s a double feature again, because these two works form a thematic set of being totally blasé about abduction and sexual assault. 



The paintings represent the story of the abduction and rape of the woman Europa (sometimes used as a personification of Europe).  The story goes like this: in a totally out of character move, Zeus has the hots for Europa, so he disguises himself as an animal to get close to her and have sweet, sweet bestial sex.  Remember the swan?  This time it’s a white bull.  Which I guess is at least slightly more anatomically plausible in terms of human-animal proportions, if you want to consider the logistics, which I really don’t.



So, he transforms into a bull and hides out in her father’s herd.  Europa and friends are hanging out and gathering flowers, because that was the only acceptable lady-activity in ancient times besides being lusted after.  In the midst of the flower-gathering, she spots the bull and starts caressing it, apparently not questioning the fact that she’s never seen this particular bull before.  Maybe Zeus had some background info on her personal preferences and the bull wasn’t such a longshot choice of animal, after all.  Anyway, eventually she sits on the Mystery Bull’s back, and at this point Zeus the Bull seizes the opportunity to zoom off into the sea and swim to Crete with her.  Presumably it’s this point that he rapes her, although Wikipedia tactfully only mentions that he made her queen of Crete.



The first painting is “The Abduction of Europa.”




This is the most laid-back abduction ever.  First off, the “abducted” lady is surrounded by people, none of whom seem to bat an eye at the random bull their friend has plonked down on like some kind of smelly La-Z-Boy. 




They’re more like, “Hey Europa, want some more flowers to adorn that adorable bull?  He’s so kewwwwwt.”




Europa herself doesn’t seem terribly concerned by the situation.  She’s not even paying much attention to the naked baby angel she has on a leash, who frankly looks way more threatening than the bull.  She’s just sort of staring blankly into space, enjoying her very comfy, loose-fitting garb. 




Even the bull isn’t in a rush to get up.  The random naked man coming out of the sea (who no one seems to notice) is more concerned with the situation, whispering, “Uh, hey, Zeus, you might want to get a move on with the whole abduction thing before Hera notices what you’re doing.  Again.” 




The dude behind him in the water is the most concerned of anyone, wondering to himself, “Is this really a smart abduction plan?  Having a bovine swim to an island, with nothing to hold the woman in place?  Should we at least knock her out?  No?  Ok then.”



Now we get to the second painting, “The Rape of Europa.” 




This is also the most laid-back rape ever, as Europa still doesn’t seem to have noticed that anything is amiss.  Maybe she goes long-distance swimming with bulls as a part of her regular health routine.  Frankly this looks suspiciously like the scene we just saw, with lots of ladies and flowers hanging out, except here there are less clothes and the accompanying cupids look more like they are melting.



In conclusion, Zeus was a horny bastard, and ancient ladies were either totally oblivious or into some really kinky stuff.

Meet James Ensor (Belgium's Famous Painter)

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I must confess that everything I knew about James Ensor before doing this post I learned from this song by They Might Be Giants.  Thus I knew that he lived with his mother and the torments of Christ (who make great roommates!).  I don't know much more now that I have looked him up, but I diddiscover that he was a vindictive, sarcastic bastard who was obsessed with “artistic revenge”, and really that makes me like him all the more.

Thus we have this painting, "Les cuisiniers dangereux" (The Dangerous Cooks). 

(Source)

This evidently satirizes his struggles with “Les Vingts,” a group of Belgian painters.  Two men he has some issues with, Octave Mause and Edmond Picard, are shown as ruthless cooks serving up Ensor’s head on a platter à la John the Baptist.


First off, let me just observe that whichever one has his head on a plate has a fantastic mustache.  It goes so well with his aloof demeanor.  I do wonder at the tools he carries with him, however…


It looks like some kind of freaky multi-knife holster, which makes some sense for a chef.  But what is that dangling off of it?  It looks like a mobile phone charm of a donkey or something, which would be only slightly less out of place if this were not painted in the 19thcentury.

In the back, we see some diners who I can only assume are art critics.


I am not sure how Teddy Roosevelt got an invite to a Belgian art critic dinner, but whatever.  Some of the diners are obviously not impressed, as they vomit spectacularly over the table.


On the staircase behind the diners, an Asian man slinks up the stairs carrying a flaming…stick?  Match?  Cigarette?  In any case, someone is dumping a kettle of coffee on his head from behind a door, because Social Commentary.


In other news, there is a bird-lady laying an egg while she hangs by the neck.  It doesn’t look like you’d get much meat off her, being so much foot and feather, so I’m not sure why she’s strung up when she’s clearly still economically viable as an egg-producer.


Finally there is this adorable monacled dwarf pig-man, and his lobster sidekick with a fantastic schnoz.
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