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If Death visits us looking like this, we'd gladly take her hand and get in her car. Buy this one, even if you haven't seen it, as it might be the best of several radical collaborations between Cocteau and Marais.

or "Don't Let This Remake Into Your Netflix Queue"

Thanks Hollywood. A remake of Straw Dogs hurts even more than Total Recall, Conan the Barbarian, or Point Break. How shocked should we pretend to be during the rape scene or the bear trap murder? It stars Cyclops in the Dustin Hoffman role, and is directed by the guy whose last effort was The Last Castle, which was powerful - powerful enough to destroy Robert Redford's career, in fact. We haven't seen this version (and we won't) but we're pretty sure it would make the great Sam Peckinpah drink himself into another early grave.

Nice one here from Terry Richardson, who seems pretty BENT, as does Ms. Sevigny. Even if Roger Ebert called it "the worst film in the history of Cannes," The Brown Bunny was still radical.

The most anticipated show of the fall is probably the de Kooning retrospective at the MoMA, opening September 18. We're certainly stoked. Unfortunately it will not include paintings made after 1987, when the artist was declared mentally incompetent. Some of those post-1987 ones were shown at Gagosian and were pretty radical. Sometimes artists are at their best when they're crazy. After all, what would a van Gogh retrospective be like without the paintings he made in the asylum at Saint-Remy? I'll tell you. It would be 50,000 tourists complaining that they can't take their photo standing next to Starry Night.

http://www.moma.org/visit/calendar/exhibitions/1149

No, it's not a Jenny Holzer piece. It seemed like a possibility as the lyrics to the Stones' Under My Thumb streamed karaoke-style on this wall in the East Village. Looking for the projector, it became clear that it actually WAS from a karaoke bar across the street, which displays the lyrics to whatever the client sings. This left us with three feelings: 1) inspired that Rock and Roll is not dead, since the twentysomething girls on the mic didn't choose Lady Gaga; 2) wondering if these twentysomething girls understood the lyrics they were singing; and 3) glad that the audio of the twentysomething girls was not broadcast as well, instead of the voice of our hero Mick.