I find television very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book. - Groucho Marx

TODAY IN NETWORK AWESOME MAGAZINE


by A Wolfe
Jan. 19, 2018

On the outset of the second episode in the Ways of Seeing series, “The Female Nude,” John Berger’s face is there, front and center, in a medium-to-close shot, looking directly into the camera as he speaks. Images of European nude portraits flash on the screen as Berger talks of the male gaze. He is gazing not at you, but through you. He barely exists, though he is right there. He says of these nude women, “Their nudity is another form of dress. They are condemned to never being naked.”

The barrage of images, accompanied by Berger’s French-tinged English voice over, continue. He explains the process the Renaissance painters had of capturing single portions of a model’s body—the torso, the right leg, or perhaps a shoulder—and collaging it with that of several other models, thereby creating their perfect woman. At one point, he even compares the faces of models from Renaissance nudes and then-contemporary nude magazines to find that while the context is different, each model’s face displays the same coy pose, an exhibition of what a man wants to see and what a woman wants the man to see, but because they are nude, because there’s nothing left to take off, they are now costumed in their own skin...

A Wolfe is a writer and director in Los Angeles. awolfeswolfworld.wordpress.com

by Susan Cohen
Jan. 17, 2018

Though it’s set in the 1960s, The Young One has a major Huck Finn vibe. It’s easy to forget the era while sitting in Miller and Evvie’s shabby cabins, until Traver starts dropping some hipster lingo. And aside from a couple of shots — a raccoon eating a chicken while the other fowl cower in a corner of the coop, a shiny new pair of high heels — you almost couldn’t guess this was a Bunuel film...

Susan Cohen decided to leave her career in journalism to go back to school — for journalism. She's still not sure if she made a mistake. Visit susanjcohen.com to learn more about her. 


by Brian Correia
Jan. 16, 2018
Every since man was banging two bones together, he has been trying to perfect the art of the dance. All he has wanted to do is zoom-a-zoom-zoom-zoom in a boom-boom, if you will. It is the natural, beautiful response to that most inexplicably moving force we call music, but it can get ugly. Dancing may come naturally, but dancing well does not. Man embarasses himself with stilted strutting, fractured footwork, and whatever you want to call the Macarena. For every John Travolta, every Michael Jackson, and every Martha Graham, there are five David Brents. Every year, men and women alike haplessly spend millions of dollars on dance lessons on the road to what they hope is boogie wonderland. They instead find themselves trapped with two left feet in a disco nightmare, taunted by the boogie man himself...
Brian Correia is a budding computer scientist and aspiring writer from Boston, Massachusetts who couldn't decide which hip-hop lyric to put in his byline. The top three, in no particular order, were as follows: “cooler than a cucumber in a bowl of hot sauce,” “spiced out Calvin Coolidge loungin' with six duelers,” and “I got techniques drippin' out my buttcheeks.” He is on Twitter (@brianmcorreia) and Tumblr (brianmcorreia.tumblr.com) like the rest of the kids.

by Anthony Galli
Jan. 16, 2018
Iggy Pop’s 1977 tour de force Lust for Life begins with a striptease backbeat that dares you not to get up and shake it. The rhythm section of Hunt and Tony Sales bombard the dance floor with earthquakes of sound, while guitars, keyboards, and other percussive textures slowly infiltrate the mix. Finally, Iggy arrives and brings it all back home to William S. Burroughs: “Here comes Johnny Yen, again/with his liquor and drugs/and a flesh machine…” Lust for Life extracted the polite Motown beat from The Supremes’ “You Can’t Hurry Love” and reimagined it as the sound of speed freaks set on fire in an abandoned warehouse in West Berlin and everything turned up to 11.

If you can’t get your Swim, your Pony, or your Watusi on to Lust for Life…dude, something is wrong.

Iggy’s striptease comes from a different time than 1977, though. At the height of Punk Rock, where Iggy was seen as a sort of elder statesman due to his late 60’s early 70’s punk prototype freak-out band The Stooges, Iggy brought it all back to the trash and glamour of early 20th century burlesque theater. As an inexpensive form of entertainment, where one could enjoy an adult beverage or two, American burlesque made it okay to ogle female dancers on stage in various states of dress, teasing, seducing, and tantalizing audiences...

Anthony Galli currently lives in Athens, Georgia. He shares a birthday with his black cat, Magic, and they both claim Wings of Desire as their favorite film. Anthony has published two books of poetry, Amnesia for Insomniacs and Invisible Idiot.


by Anthony Galli
Jan. 15, 2018
The other day, I had a short drive to the supermarket to make. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to listen to Ólöf Arnalds or Os Mutantes on the way over, so I put them both into my CD player. After driving for a block, or so, I felt a little tired and decided that this was a good time to take a little nap. I found the nearest Weeping Willow tree, towering over the motorway, and parked my car beneath its generous shade.

I awoke to the sounds of my 12-year-old sister, and her older sister, frolicking in the breeze, the echoes and vibrations of their musical joy wafting upon waves through my open window. From a giant toybox in the middle of my dream, I could faintly make out my sisters, surrounded by llamas and mating unicorns set against a watercolor and crayon rainbowed sky.Kate Bush was building a snowman in the imaginary sun, and Björk was casting a spell...

Anthony Galli currently lives in Athens, Georgia. He shares a birthday with his black cat, Magic, and they both claim Wings of Desire as their favorite film. Anthony has published two books of poetry, Amnesia for Insomniacs and Invisible Idiot.