looking sad, smoking cigarettes, pretending to be a potato chip

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It’s the summer and we’re feeling cRaZy! So we’re going Smorgasbord mode today with a few poems (wuhhh!?!) written by Harry and Randa and then a little micro take from Harry about Evil Partying + some trippy images…

We spend our whole lives looking for something that makes us feel
like the way the drone scene in the first act of Denis Villueves ‘Sicario” makes me feel.

I could watch Emily Blunt rip cigs in El Paso all day. I don’t have a girlfriend but if
I did and if we had a reasonably open 
Sexual line of communication I would ask her if I 
Could just sit and watch her look sad while
Smoking a cigarette like Emily Blunt in Sicario

I love when girls look sad and smoking cigarettes and i love 
When things are sprawling and when
Evil is diffuse and when people shoot other people 

-HK

“End of the tour”

I once watched “End of the Tour”
Naked in my kitchen. Naked with
My penis out and my balls out

I left a woman in bed who had
Brought me a gift on our
First date and was 20 minutes late 
And my stomach hurt so bad and

My stomach hurt so bad and she 
Had said she couldn’t sleep without
ASMR videos faintly playing off a laptop and neither could I

So I stood on my feet in the kitchen
And watched the whole film and laughed
To my self at how funny it is to be sad
And waited for her to leave 

-HK

palatable

what if i scooped my insides out and put them in an ice cream cone?
what if i disguised myself as a cluster of green grapes, easily snackable and bursting?
what if i turned into a chunky batter and sidled up to the parchment lined edges of a baking pan and nearly burned myself in an effort to be perfectly crisp on the outside and chewy on the inside?
what if i hid inside a shiny, crinkly, little bag and posed as a potato chip?
would i be palatable then?

-RS

sometimes 
when i wake up it feels like i’ve walked into a room and forgotten why i’m there
or that i have taken my head off my shoulders and i’m holding it at my side like a basketball looking for the right place to store it where it won’t roll away

-RS

HK

Big Brain Former Good Hang Contributor Benjamin Schneider texted me these two images this week:

His point of course is what strange duo the democratic establishment and an album about being a girl and blasting lines make.

This phenomenon is Not New. Politicians have opportunistically globbed onto artists to curry favor, or broadly seem less like a lizard wearing a human’s skin. Look no further than Trump and Kanye, Obama and Jay Z…Obama and Faye Webster, Obama and Central Cee, Obama and Mitski, Obama and The War on Drugs. O– 

Annnnywayyyy… I am not your guy for “What Kamala’s Brat Summer Means For the 2024 Election.” I’m sure there are interesting and prescient articles about that but not here at Good Hang. 

I want to talk about Evil Partying.

Brat is the soundtrack to a night of Evil Partying. You flit back and forth between adulation and hubris and ego and dying and railing lines having sex and dying and techno and the sum total effect seems to be like one of those memes of a hydraulic press destroying a stack of marbles with the phrase “i bet this feel good asf for the marbles.”

I have great respect for Evil Partying, even as someone who has essentially never EP’d

When I was 14 or 15 I was talking to one of my high school friends who had taken to drinking on the earlier side of high school life. She and a crew of dangerous children were bodying plastic bottles of Royal Gate vodka and glass 40s at Alta Plaza Park nearly every weekend. At this party, she said something I think about all the time. She said “sometimes i just want to test my limits. I wanna see how far I can go.” I remember thinking “I really cannot relate to anything less than what you just said” and I remember saying “totally….yea….totally.” This was Evil Partying and I have spent most of my adult life being repulsed and compelled by Evil Partiers.

Evil Partying is repulsive in some very obvious ways. It's sort of childish right? Surely there has to be a more adaptive solution to the woes of the world than shooting yourself out of a cannon. Yes getting blackout and throwing up is a release…but so is like…talking…

But then on the other hand I sometimes feel that the Evil Partiers in my life are actually a bit more in touch with themselves than I am. Evil Partying is an exercise in running towards feeling insane as much as it is an exercise is using drugs and alcohol to numb it? I’m not sure…

The funniest part about Evil Partying is that from a vibes perspective, it's an incredibly selfless act. Every party is cooler when some percentage of the people are tugging at the thread of their death drive. I’d never wish my friend got trapped in a loop of evil partying but am always happy to see someone out who appears to be chasing something. It's the same reason I wish Future health and happiness in his life…but i also don't….