Interview: Farook Imafarce: Air sculptor


 

Hello there, Good evening and welcome to another edition of The Very Late Show with me, Brooks McDoggie and tonight we kick off with a special guest, a man(?) who is responsible for having incited a mild furore all around the world with his controversial air sculptures.

Though Farook Imafarce has been creating art ever since he was a child with decorative garments made out of papaya peels, he was a late bloomer when it came to sculpting. In fact, he did not start sculpting until he was 87 years old, after a trip to a local animal shelter in Cairo (he was mistaken for an escaped overgrown koala bear) ignited a new passion. He’s 88 now.

Upon his return home to Aleppo, Syria, he discovered air, till up to that point in his life he’d never knew or heard of what air was("And I breathe for the first time in my life at 87!" the maestro has said upon this great revelation), He later realized Aleppo was blessed with air(lots of it) therefore, providing ample raw material for his new-found passion. His inspiration, however, would come from having spent over 40 years of studying, experimenting with and selling powerful homemade toilet cleaners.

HOST: Welcome to the show Farook. You are a sculptor, and your medium is… marble? Wood? Bronze? Pillows?

FAROOK:  …It’s air.

HOST: Why… air?

FAROOK: Well, it’s where I’m from… Aleppo. There’s absolutely nothing to do in Aleppo or all of Syria unless if you’re a tree who are the most productive and the only things who have got stuff to do in Syria. The only significant thing we have is air.

and poor human rights.

HOST: What about Bashar al-Assad?

FAROOK: This just in… he’s crap and hence, has no importance to anyone, unless if you are a fly who are also the only productive things and also the busiest in Syria because flies happen to like crap and there’s a lot of crap over there.

The maestro at work, doing a live piece with live models.

HOST: Your critics say you are a phony, but are also widely considered to be the world’s greatest air sculptor. How do you feel about that?

FAROOK: Now, now, people just pass it as air, but I’d like to assert that, there’s more to my art than just air(although it is air) Its not to be taken lightly, especially since Syrian air is so heavy; always filled with TNT, Napalm, Bashar al-Assad’s ego and what not!

HOST: I imagine it to be a rather difficult medium to work with...

FAROOK: Oh it is! There's always a great risk of you inhaling your own work! (Laughs)

The following pictures of my works clearly illustrates how much of an effort I put in them…

"18 Lebanese nymphs drowning in a jar of Papaya jam" 
One of Farook's most famous works. 
Syrian admirers of the maestro have noted the work for its exceptional beauty, the exquisite details and its graceful form, while his Lebanese critics greatly protested for portraying the Lebanese women less manly.

HOST: I've noticed that Papayas are a recurring theme in your works...

FAROOK: Papayas are a very important part of Syrian life, infact even Papayas also are amongst the only productive few things in Syria and have got things to do.


"My dear Abdula"
This simple yet powerful work named after his neighbour's goat has been acclaimed by many regional leaders and the public majority for it's explicitly erotic portrayal of a goat. Western critics have criticized it for the subject being a "boy goat". According to rumours, the work is inspired by and based upon the maestro's own true unreciprocated love for his neigbhour's goat.
The goat was unavailable to comment.

HOST: You have done many works for celebrities?

FAROOK: Yes, yes, I did a portrait of Stevie Wonder . Stevie was particularly delighted with the astounding likeliness of the statue. One for Cat Stevens Yusuf Islam, Cat Yusuf loved it too. I also did one for William Shatner, but he was greatly displeased with the work as he felt that I didn’t do justice or capture the beauty of his jawline correctly…
I would like to go on record and make it clear that I rather didnail… the jawline flawlessly… regardless of what Mr. Shatner thinks. As the following picture which I brought along to share will clearly reveal…

(Picture of Mr.Shatner for reference included)

As you can see here, I think I rather… nailed… the jawline perfectly regardless of what Mr. Shatner thinks.

HOST: Oh my god! Fascinating! William Shatner has a jawline?
Or a Hairline

HOST: We’ll be back after these few messages so stay tuned in…

Introducing…



HOST: Welcome back, let’s continue…
What’s the one medium that you won’t ever work with?

FAROOK: Wind.

...

And also cucumbers.

HOST: And with that it’s time to end tonight’s show and I’d like to thank you Farook for sharing with us your art(?) and we wish you all the best for your future ventures…

FAROOK: Thank you Brooks.

HOST: That's it for tonight folks, I'm your host Brooks McDoggie, see you guys later, Goodnight!

---

The artist is currently working on a 50 ft tall statue commissioned by the BMC to be placed over in front of the V.T in Bombay as a symbol of the civic organization’s contribution towards the city’s municipal progress.

The maestro working on his current project.
The monumental statue once complete will symbolize the BMC’s virtues of honest and dependable service to the public and its contribution towards the city’s world class infrastructure.

An artistic representation of the statue when complete.
 

Record Of The Week


Artist: Martha Argerich
Title: Maurice Ravel
Label: Deutsche Grammophon
Country: Germany
Date: 1975
Current Value: It's Martha Argerich!!!!





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“An artistic interpretation of your dad’s cum face by our very own St. Thomas’ Cathedral’s Father Wilford D’mello… “





    
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Thank you Padre.

Holókauston District


So here's Synthetic Lying Machine's new album: 'Holókauston District'.

Recorded in my bedroom in Bombay with 6 goblins and a shiny sea muffin.
Written in various parking lots in the suburbs with rice lights and a box of matches for food, an invitation for myself to get out of bed again in spite of the current culture. 
Syd sings one in the left speaker, I think.
Danni smokes a cigarette 21 miles away in the right.

Hope you like it.


Holókauston District. 
Download the audio/listen to it here.


Download the complete album artworks here:




All words and music by Sean © 2010 (except ‘Day Of Diptera’ by Syd/Sean)

Paninometti: 10 Years Of

Calm down Pablo...
 NO.
...Peter Andre is not releasing a new album! 
(whew!) 

 NO.
...they are not allowing Ben Affleck back into civilization
after "Daredevil"! 
  (whew!)

NO!! NO!!!
WRONG AGAIN YOU TWERP!!!
...Brazil is NOT the capital of Sweden!!
(...I think...)

It's only that...
...PANINOMETTI IS 10, 4 YEARS OLD!!!!! 


......

err... Let's move on...


Pablo here loves Paninometti. You'd think Pablo here just witnessed
something unimaginably terrifying, ghastly, something utterly repulsive, 
but NO! This is a face of a person hopelessly in love.
A love so strong that it's left Pablo here speechless.
I'm not making this up.


Pablo here loves Paninometti. Look into these eyes.
Such warmth, such fondness. These are obviously the eyes of someone
who is passionately in love and love, love and love only!


Over the years, with its critical observations, thought-provoking essays on the human condition, Paninometti naturally has etched a deep impact and influence on the social consensus, evoking a cultural zeitgeist, 
of such significance not experienced since the Macarena.


Here’s what people have to say about Paninometti:




....


SERIOUSLY ....ANYBODY?!


“I should have left you in the gutter where I found you!”
      -The author’s mother after reading Paninometti.

"Shut up mother! Why do you always have to embarrass me in public?!
Gosh! I hate you!  Why won't you hug me?! Please hold me... its so cold...
...WAAAAAAHHH!!!"
-The author's err... look-alike... to the real author's mother.

"Go away GUTTERBOY!"
-The real author's mother to the real author's look-alike
who is not the real author. No.No.No.

“…perfectly reflecting the times in which we thrive in, provides a snapshot of our world and the cultural evolution at a critical juncture. Paninometti fails to do so in every possible way… Massively!
      - Paris Hilton (influential carpentry critic)

Reading this makes me want to sharply beat myself up with rocks!
- A casual reader

"GREAT God! Oranges are SO AWESOME!! The best... I just loveitt!!"
- A very enthusiastic Steve Jobs on his favourite fruit Paninometti.

"I'll be back... to Paninometti."
- Arnold Schwarzenegger

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn!”
- Rhett Butler

On the occasion of this important occasion occasion, the worldwide media flocked to rural Louisiana and asked a tree how it felt about this important occasion occasion occasion.




Paninometti Timeline:
  • 1992: The author’s classmate complains “Duuuuuude, your blog Paninometti sucks!”
  • 2007: Paninometti created.
  • 2001: In the small town of Húsavíkurbær on the peninsula Tjörnes near the agricultural area Reykjahverfi in north east Iceland, little Guðrún Sigurðardóttir (not related to Jóhanna Sigurðardóttir) sneezes for the first time.
  • 2003: That classmate unfortunately dies.The author celebrates by doing a victory dance in front of the grieving parents and relatives of the deceased during the funeral.
  • 2003: That was the last time the author was welcomed in their home.
  • 2003:  Jesus ate a Bean Burrito on September 4th.
  • 2007: The blog suffers a miscarriage.
  • 2007: The blog later confesses to chain smoking while being pregnant.
  •  2002:
    • 2009: The blog goes Super Saiyan 4!
    • 2006: Oprah Winfrey likes it up her arse since 2006.
    • 2007:  The blog reinvents the wheel.
    • 2007:  Mick Jagger dies.
    • 2009: The blog confesses to possessing weapons of mass destruction.
    • 2009: The author amid great media frenzy confesses to using baby powder as a tool of manipulation.
    • 1,600,000 BCE – 300,000 BCE: The blog discovers fire.
    • 2009: The blog cares about Tajikistan.
    • 2008: Lehman Brothers executives along with several other firms reveal having read Paninometti regularly. Market pundits believe the blog was the main reason for the global market crash.
    • 2008: The blog happily offers to castrate (or to burn alive) all the members of MNS and the likes of them.
    • 2010: The blog still doesn’t give a damn about the whole “Marathi-only in Bombay” debacle. And will never. Ever.
    • 2010: Yes, its always going to be Bombay for the blog.
    • 2010: The blog thinks the new series of Doctor Who is absolutely brilliant!
    • 2004: The blog briefly took up vocal duties and fronted Van Halen after Sammy Hagar’s departure.
    • 2005:  
    • 2006: The author marries Monica Roccaforte. They divorce a year later. Roccaforte since, has frequently been sighted canoodling in public with the blog but both of them have denied any romantic allegations and insist on being just “good friends”. R-i-i-ight.   
    • 2010: The blog confessed to tricking children into believing that they can fly. 8 have tried. All of them failed.  
    • 2009: The blog fires the author citing creative differences but they quickly make up thanks to their mutual respect and fondness for sandwiches.  
    • 2009: The blog successfully recreates the first 20 minutes of Saving Private Ryan with its dinner at a family dinner party, it was universally panned.  
    • 2009: The blog successfully builds a Flux Capacitor and travels back into time to the year 2000 and shoots 50 cent 9 times yet failing to kill him (DARN!) dejected, it later travels to 1989 and (just for fun)  kicks a young Shahrukh Khan’s arse SO hard, he still stutters to this day while talking and later unsuccessfully attempts to persuade a pregnant Mrs. Hitler to abort.  
    • 2010: The blog is currently planning on traveling back to the year 1982 when Mr.Abhishek Bachchan was in the 4th grade and make a complete fool out of him in front of the whole school, so he develops a massive low self-esteem issue, thus barring him from never-EVER considering performing in front of an audience (HA! He has an audience?! HA!). You’re welcome.  
    • 2010:  The blog gives a big “FUCK YOU” to the MSEB.  
    • 2010:  "FUCK YOU MSEB!"  
    • 2010: 
    • 2010:  
    • 2010: The blog wants to buy an Ukulele.  
    • 2010:  
    • 2010: Yawn  
    • 2010: The blog is tired now. Sleep.


      Samurai inks


      A day's work & a now defunct "Kurosawaesque" project.
      Inking still remains the most pleasurable part.
      Feudal Japan, always a delight. 

      Almost-Art Talk

      This post was deleted by the author as he finds a soapbar way more interesting than talking about his art(?).
      So here's a nice soapbar:

      Fascinating.

      Rory The Singing Plywood


      Whilst all the woodsheets was sleepy
      He waits, He waits and then,
      Softly, softly, softly,
      Creeps a velvety jingle
      Through the warehouse basement
      Deep within the mute night
      Alone he cuts and binds the grain,
      And sings a melancholy strain;
      O listen! for the shady Vale profound
      Is overflowing with this beautiful sound
      It is, Rory the singing plywood.

      For the only joy Rory knew
      Was singing and dancing,
      For all this wooden Björk knew
      Was expressing himself
      In the keys of E, C, G and A#m.
      Deep between the layers of
      His glued thin veneers of softwood
      Lied a secret passion for
      Divine melodies and harmonies,
      Graceful movements of rhythmical merry,
      And yes, Elton John and Kate Perry.

      Whilst all the other woodsheets
      Dreamt of a bright future
      In highly polished elegant furniture,
      a chair, a couch, a Victorian dinner table
      With engravings and moldings so keen,
      Rory dreamt of performing for the Royal Variety Show
      For the Queen at her 90th,
      For the cinema,
      For the stage.

      Then one fateful day,
      The gods of the warehouse vale
      With all their wealth and praise,
      Bought into the woodsheet's vale
      An army of metally chainsaws
      As their new roomies.

      On that same summery night
      Rory waits, waits, waits as always
      And when the solitary of the night,
      Seems thick and just perfect
      He fills up the void with
      All the glorious voices of the universe,
      Otherwise known as "The White Album"

      And then
      In a moment so everlasting,
      Rang through the woodsheet's vale
      A voice so thrilling
      He'd never heard
      A voice of the angels
      A voice of the saints
      Joining Rory's lonely glory,
      It was, Ashley the singing chainsaw
      Who also nourished like him
      A hidden passion for melody

      Night after night
      Rory and Ashley welcomed
      The nights with their duet of
      Sombre notes in angelic unison,
      To the weary warehouse lots
      Bonding deeper within
      The seas of music
      As a single piece of flesh
      Metal, wood and various plastic components
      Were now, one.

      Then on one fine musical evening
      Amongst a gathering of few
      Amongst family and friends,
      Ashley the singing chainsaw
      Hit a note so sharp,
      Rory the plywood was cut into half!

      The End.

      Rory's family tree.
      His parents, uncle, aunt, bothers, sisters and cousins.

      Record Of The Week

      Johann Strauss: Walzer
      Performed by the Boston Symphony Chamber Players
      Label: Deutsche Grammophon
      Country: Germany
      Date: 1979
      Current value: US$90 -150





      "A word from prominent French military figure Guillaume Brune..."


      People you fancy but shouldn't (part1)

      Vanessa Bloome from Bee Movie.



      You know you would.
      Well, I would. Thrice.

      The Haunted Wardrobe Cupboard

      I don’t believe in ghosts or any relative concepts like reincarnation, or anything that even faintly advocates the idea of life after death. (However having said that, I do believe in the Rainbow-Coloured Elephant Man) It’s a rather cowardly and self-justified perspective produced by man to believe that one’s life does not end at one’s physical demise. A self-imposed natural resistive response towards the instinctive, inherent and eternal fear of death. All things die. All living things fear death such is the burden of life. It blatantly proposes that life itself doesn’t ever stop, end, that one actually passes onto a place of eternal bliss, peace, and what not. An understandably very human, positive, the prospect of something after death is, evidently desperate in search of satisfying hope. Hence, I find most horror/ghost stories/films or any anything that says there's anything after death ultimately an optimistic story. It is. Infact, I won’t at all be surprised to find majorly the people who claim to see “ghosts” also see the “glass half full”!

      But an unexpectedly “inexpensive” purchase from the local flea market has clearly presented a massive contradiction to my view. I am absolutely convinced that my newly purchased wardrobe cupboard is haunted! The series of eerie occurrences involving the cupboard over the past few days has led me to consider otherwise- like for instance, wardrobe cupboards aren’t supposed to secrete slimy rancid glowing fluids (like women) right? Or EAT PEOPLE? Unless you buy your furniture from Big Bazaar…
      ...I think NOT!

      "50% flat off on this self-stabbing Bean Bag! Take it or leave it!"
      The seller, he said, the cupboard goes along well with the colour of my pants that I was wearing. *blush*

      I was excited like a little child on Christmas morning, having acquired an unbelievably brilliant bargain on a rare fine looking cupboard and all I needed now was to buy some clothes (as I didn’t have any) but I didn’t, because that would have cost extra as I was planning on buying a house for the cupboard and myself to stay in first and move out of my roadside cardboard home.


       Isn’t she a beauty? *tears*

      I was indeed happy; at least, I was at first. But my delight and excitement was very short-lived as I immediately found out and realized over the following weeks that I may have initially overlooked certain questionable aspects of this investment and received more than what I originally bargained for! I paid for a nice antique wardrobe cupboard, DEFINITELY NOT a psychotic antique wardrobe cupboard monster that eats people/pets/household objects/grandma and tries to dissolve you by vomiting acid on you during the night while you are asleep.

      Following is the record of all the eerie occurrences and the horrifying experiences that I’ve endured over the weeks since I bought the cupboard and compiled:

      Sure signs your wardrobe cupboard is haunted:

      When one finds skeletons in one’s closet… LITERALLY! (one of them later turned out to be Uncle Gilford)


      When your own reflection tries to chew your arm off.


      When the cupboard starts dry humping guests.


      When the mirror on the cupboard turns out to be a portal to the netherworld.


      When your clothes develop a very embarrassing habit of mysteriously transforming into wearables of the opposite sex.



      Your new found appreciation for “alternative fashion”.


      When your favourite shirt tries to kill you.


      When once missing objects start mysteriously reappearing within your pockets like Grandma’s long lost tongue, Uncle Gilford’s right ear, somebody’s nipple, grandpa, etc;


      Most recent picture of me. This is what I was turning into and that was it! I’ve had enough!


      My newly purchased set of clothing hangers lay untouched on my coffee table, as I could not use them since the cupboard once tried to strangle me with those. All I could do now is cry.



      So if anybody wants to buy a nice looking people-eating wardrobe cupboard then do contact me right now! PLEASE! The first person who calls, wi






      The author appears to have died. Luckily, his sole companion his parrot picked this article up along with some remaining pieces of his nose(?)