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DOS & DON'TS

Wow, you don't see most people's corpses at their wall memorial. Usually it’s just some flowers and those candles with saints on the side and maybe a mural of them on the bike that killed them. Comments/Enlarge | See all


What the fuck are you glowering about? If that sexball let me put my freckly hands all over her person I'd be doing dances with her that make Skeritt Boy look like a tree-sloth who hates sex, not getting into staring problems with every other guy in the room. I guess heavy hangs the face that wears the tits. Comments/Enlarge | See all






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FROM THIS ISSUE

DON'T HATE ME
Because I'm Beautiful
BARFING WITH A BONER
The New Pornography Leaves Critics Sicke...
DEATH TO THE WEST
Weird-Looking Al Qaeda Psychos Are Eating...
CALLING ALL BITCHES
Streets Are All About Destruction



ALSO BY GAVIN MCINNES

THE END OF THEFT
The Microchip That's Changing the World
MONEY WILL MAKE THE DOG DANCE
Mexican Punks Change Art Forever
THE SMASHING PUMPKINS ARE DEAD
Finally Zwan
SPECIAL PULL-OUT POSTER:
The way you get a girl is to say, 'No pro...

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LITERARY

Book Reviews - The Violence Issue



Ego Trip’s Big Book of Racism
Sacha Jenkins, Elliott Wilson, Chairman Jefferson Mao, Gabriel Alvarez, Brent Rollins

This book is everything VICE has been trying to do since 1994. It disarms heavy-shit taboos with irreverent and well-informed criticism. The fact that the most frank and hilarious discussions on race have come out in the country with the most dishonest and unfunny climate makes this book even more mind-blowing. Our editor said he has wet dreams of being the only person in the world with a copy of this book and just running one piece a month for the next 500 issues of VICE. Yes, black people are weird about pool parties. Yes, Asians are an email force to be reckoned with. Yes, white people have the most ridiculous hobbies. If you held a gun to my head and forced me to say something bad about it, I’d confess that the writing can be a bit too wordy and adjective-heavy (no wonder they love lists) and the overall vibe is a bit too het-guy (endless references to sports), but that’s only with a gun to my head. The graphic design is great, too.

GAVIN MCINNES




Despite Everything
A Cometbus Omnibus

Aaron Cometbus is the Woody Guthrie of punk zines, hands fucking down. He is also one of the most inspirational, uncompromising, elusive, heartbreaking, and funny writers ever—in or out of the underground. When a new issue of Cometbus appears, it’s like Christmas morning when you’re six. The only bad thing is, Aaron is basically a hobo. You never know where he is or when he’ll pop up. Add to this the fact that Cometbus sells out faster than something that sells out really fast, and you’ll understand why this book is a public service on par with curing cancer. This should be on the syllabus of all high-school English classes.

JESSE PEARSON


We’re Desperate: The Punk Rock Photography of Jim Jocoy
Text by Marc Jacobs, Exene Cervenka, and Thurston Moore

Who Shot Ya?: Three Decades of Hip Hop Photography
Photos by Ernie Paniccioli, text by Kevin Powell

Both of these are great for style biting. Androgynous girl rocking the bullet belt is really fly. But bullet belts might be in poor taste these days. Black leather motorcycle jackets were and always will be dumb. And I didn’t realize cowboy boots were such a punk rock must-have. Lots of color risks here, but that’s good. Wait, how come everyone in this book looks so old, when they’re probably only in their 20s? None of them are hot. Weird. Hotter subjects in the hip hop book, but same color risks. Also, better use of $100 bills as pasties. But the guys are way more boring. And it totally went over my head when I was a little kid that Butterfly from the Digable Planets is kind of, uh, butch.

JANE KIM


Painful but Fabulous: The Lives and Art of Genesis P-Orridge

This book isn’t really about any Throbbing Gristle or Psychic TV stuff. It’s a bunch of photos of Genesis’ visual art—including a German shepherd tattoo he has at the base of his penis, which is pierced numerous times; a fanged-pussy tote bag; a performance piece where he dressed up as a transsexual Hitler; several performances where he wrapped himself in plastic, tree branches, wire, and corsets; homemade postcards of Queen Elizabeth that apparently really pissed her off back in the day; and about a million collages of genitals and asses. And the book’s got lots of essays on the nature of artistic creation that put me to sleep. Which reminds me—I love that Psychic TV album Dreams Less Sweet.

MADDY PEISTRUP

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