(133) Cravings

It's hard to relate buying a shoebox on the 5th floor for 300K with life's naughty pleasures but there's probably a scary shitload of money behind how and why ads like this work. We'll stick with the bunker for now.

editor's note: Luigi's Barbershop is no more. He's been cutting hair in Poorkdale since 1964 and if any part of the bunker's support infrastructure had become irreplaceable it was that patinated part. Truly, the apocalypse looms, time for a lemon cupcake.

(106) Cold Snap

Psychogeography can be employed to understand not just the city, the spectacle. It can be employed to understand the other. Standing with our back to the Knob Hill on a greasy, grey winter afternoon with the light fading fast we placed ourselves into the imaginary shoes of a person living a life less privileged than our own and concluded that nothing in life could ever be as amazing as an advertising image and were left reeling at the implications.

editor's note: be thankful you are not a Bulgarian paraplegic crack baby with scorpions defecating in your eyes you smart ass!

(103) Mimicolicious

Falling back warily eastwards after our bloody nose in Mississauga we found ourselves breathing a sigh of relief to be in Etobicoke!!! Mimico specifically, where we came upon this relaxed beauty having her temples massaged by somebody who recently got a French Manicure done.

Needless to say, we began to relax a little. It would seem that Mimico might actually be worth investigating as a location in which one might more successfully cope with the Coming Apocalypse than the newer McBurbs. Why do we say this? Well, Mimico is within the TTC and is served by commuter rail. It has bicycle lanes and access to the lakefront. Some manufacturing seems to be hanging on nearby (including our present undercover-with-the-proles location inside the world's largest motion picture printing plant).

Mimico offers solid, modest-sized housing at reasonable pre-1980s densities without true urban crowding. A tinge of blue-collar prosperity survives here unlike in yuppified pseudo-villages like Oakville. Life seems, walkable, liveable, reasonable, almost downright, ...Canadian here.

We will be increasing the frequency and detail of our psychogeographic investigations here when the weather improves.

Curiously, we saw the movie Revolutionary Road just before finding ourselves in Mimico, an aging suburb. This film revives the now totally obsolete conundrum of those choosing suburbia over some more life-affirming manner of living. You've seen and know the kind of liberal, arty offering Revolutionary Road is if you've seen American Beauty, The Ice Storm or Valley of the Dolls. Apparently the most materially privileged people on the face of the Earth are not happy with what they have wrought and never have been. We cannot confirm or deny this never having actually lived the suburban dream. Nonetheless, we predict this will be last ever in this genre, that of the disintegrating suburban couple movie. The Happy Motoring era is over and our sprawl-dependent economy is now permanently busted. Really, we only wish we had Leonardo DiCaprio's character's problems in Revolutionary Road: stick with our cushy career or run off and live in Paris and schtumpfing Kate Winslet while we don't make our mind up.

Note to self: Never leave bunker without a case of malt liquor in the trunk of the Subaru ever again, oh, and lobby Senate to amend Constitution regarding French Manicure.

editor's note: POWcityblog style manual spelling for Etobicoke!!! includes three exclamation marks in all uses.

(49) Mondo Condo

We notice that prior to the late 1990s sex wasn't really used in advertising to sell real estate the way it has been used to sell, say, motor cars and sunny vacations for many a year. Images of "class" were used to sell real estate, you know, "you have arrived: the estate homes of Avon Glen Dale" kind of thing. A lot of that imagery was formal/suburban/pseudo-Victorian and its collapse is probably not such a loss to the aesthetic environment. Nowadays we see that sexed up design-ey images, particularly with an urban theme, are the new classy but we do not quite know if we approve. Twenty somethings fresh out of community gulag or university are now direct targets of real estate advertising which is also a very new development. Given what a dismal experience renting can be (we could tell you stories!) signing up for a life of debt as soon as possible may make some kind of reductive, unimaginative sense. I suppose in a pornified world it can be hard to know where the edge is. Either way, expect more of this kind of thing unless the economy collapses completely.

(44) Actual Photo

We were trolling the Yellow Pages directory for an exhaust repair shop the other day (we want to run 4-inch pipes on the Subaru this summer). Thumbing towards our objective we passed several pages devoted to escort services. Now, the oldest profession, like it or not, offers up particular images of women. Just look at the back of both of the city's arts and entertainment weeklies as well and you will see what we mean.

NOW magazine we would not place copies of on the floor of the antique cage our cocaktiel Louis Armstrong lives in lest even his modest brain be damaged by having to shit down onto this vain tribute to political correctness from his favourite wooden perch. Eye Weekly at least has some sense of humour in regard to itself and even wanders toward psychogeographic themes but when it comes to printing acre upon acre of "ho ads" is scarcely better. It's enough to make us a vegetarian these luridly coloured paper meat markets.

Both publications affect to be liberal, lefty, hip, and youthful yet they rake in revenue, and from those more thoughtful and tradition-minded of Russian pimps the occasional cake, via the advertising of prostitution. Last we heard this industry was skeevy and damaging to women. Most of the owners of these publications must be bearded. It is hard to believe they can look in the mirror long enough to shave.

Having POWcityblog address this type of imagery was probably inevitable and likely is difficult for many readers. Nonetheless, we know where we stand.

editor's note: during the composition of this post the Cramps song Bikini Girls With Machine Guns came on the radio ...'this stuf'll kill ya'

editor's note (supplemental): a healthier choice of periodical might be Queen's Quarterly or Granta