 |
 |
|
| Welcome Fruitless Pursuit's huge holiday coverage! We are all hyped up, sugar-craving, trigger happy consumers and we are hoping to cram as much festive tomfoolery into December as your sensitive stomachs can take. December is the greatest month of the year! I'm going to get the (shiny decorative) ball rolling with our new regular feature where contributors reminisce on some of their most memorable (for good or bad) Christmas presents. What truly surprised you? What horrified or disappointed you? What was right, or wrong, or still sticks in your mind? For me, it was the heady year of 1995. I was 19 - a young man trying to forge my identity in the world - and for the first time becoming really interested in music and starting to develop my own unique tastes. Cassettes were long dead, but MP3's were still a mystery. If you wanted music on the go, then a discman was probably the preferred method of delivery. Unless... My grandparents sent me a "Rad Cap". It was like a big old trucker cap, but it had an AM/FM radio sewn onto the side with a tuning dial and a volume knob. It had tiny built-in headphones but - before you go thinking it was too discrete - it had an extendable antenna that slid out of the top, making the wearer look like a 1950's moon man. But this is where it gets better.... If it wasn't already rad enough, it was light grey and had a bold pink graffiti style logo on the front that said: "Rad Cap", so really there was never any doubt about how audaciously radical it was. Everyone knew it just by looking at it, and for a young single man finding his way in the world, what an incredibly powerful statement. All images of said cap appear to have been suppressed (possibly for fear of inciting a rad-riot). So here's my artist's impression:  |
I shave it with a Bic razor or whatever kind of razor from the top every day. Use cuticle, nail cuticles to cut it on the bottom. And then if it’s a little gray or you miss a place you just sketch it in with Maybelline Velvet Black, which is my favorite. And I tried the expensive kind, the smear-proof kind, the waterproof kind, but they just don’t do it like Maybelline. And it has to be sharpened every time. And those little sharpeners break all the time, but I keep buying them and I have them in every place I live, in my car.
| The Man-croscope - a devastating mechanism that coldly scrutinizes that which you held dear as a child, and mocks it with the unsatisfied eyes of an unfulfilled adult! Where will the Man-croscope turn its gaze this week? I am going to brazenly buck Man-croscope tradition this week. Normally I would focus on something from the eighties that I had some form of personal experience with as a child, but instead this one goes out to our younger readers. I'm going to turn the Man-croscope on the heady year of 1994, when I'd already graduated from high school, but you were still a shiftless, filthy child looking for chunky plastic effigies to chew on. Let's talk about something that I completely missed and fail to understand. Oh yes, let's talk about... Street Sharks!  |
 |
| Casey Weldon “Murray Time” |
 |
| Steven Foundling "For Esteban!" |
