IPZ Construction » editorial

The Queen of Scream

ipz — Sat, 28 Jun 2014 12:00:21 +0000

When Courtney Love calls you, you answer. We did exactly that recently, when Love—who’s been touring in Europe to promote her new scream-o-heavy, double A-sides, „You Know My Name” and „Wedding Day”—called us from her Nottingham hotel in the U.K. Our chat (which lasted for more than an hour) with the enthusiastic, focused, and seemingly very happy Love covered topics such as her getting back into acting; being Riccardo Tisci’s first muse; the hopeful Hole reunion; her absolute loathing of flower crowns; being Net-a-Porter’s number one client; why she ditched her „social media friend” Miley Cyrus’ recent party; and, of course, her cheese addiction. Above all, it seems, Love is set on a comeback. With her slew of forthcoming projects, the self-proclaimed „grande dame of rock” is looking to reclaim the throne.

So, what’s your typical routine these days before you hit the stage? What’s on your tour rider?

I’m basically chanting and practicing my lines. I need to get back to sample size and I need to lose 10 pounds and I can’t seem to lose it. I have so much artisanal cheese on my rider and artisanal baked goods. Because, honest to God, the fucking fast food in this country is just as bad as 1974. They have not improved. I know there’s „food” in Great Britain now and there are foodies. On the High Street, they have Pret a Manger. So, they have food now, you can eat in England now. I remember in 1981 when I first moved here on my own, you still couldn’t eat. You’d live on fish and chips in the day with 11,000-year-old grease. I tried to take a bite of fish and chips last night and I threw up. It was so disgusting. I was in Nottingham and it was 2 a.m., so, you know, whatever. I know a place in L.A. where I can get a croque-monsieur and it’s delicious.

Cheese addiction is totally a real thing—right up there with sugar and caffeine addiction.

I’m addicted to cheese and sugar. As long as I can get my bits of sugar when I need it and my one cappuccino, I’m cool. When they ask me if I want dinner, I’m like, „No, I want Brie and crackers.” It’s all I’ve been living on and it’s not good for you and it makes you fat. I hate shopping, so I order off of Net-a-Porter. A girl interviewed me for their magazine—this is so awful—she said, „You’re a legend at Net-a-Porter. You’re one of the top five American clients for buying.” I live on Net-a-Porter. And I hate ordering an Italian 42, which is an American 8. I’m investing money in 8s and even 10s in some cases. It’s like, fuck, I’ll have to tailor all of this when I lose weight. This part I’m auditioning for, it’s the part of a sheriff, so it’s not a fashion look. It’s a chunky gun, khaki pants, wide ass. But you have to have a good figure on television—you can’t get away with a pot belly.

Special Picks for June

ipz — Sat, 28 Jun 2014 10:27:35 +0000

And now that at the proper time and place, after so long and wide a preliminary cruise, Ahab,—all other whaling waters swept—seemed to have chased his foe into an ocean-fold, to slay him the more securely there; now, that he found himself hard by the very latitude and longitude where his tormenting wound had been inflicted; now that a vessel had been spoken which on the very day preceding had actually encountered Moby Dick;—and now that all his successive meetings with various ships contrastingly concurred to show the demoniac indifference with which the white whale tore his hunters, whether sinning or sinned against; now it was that there lurked a something in the old man’s eyes, which it was hardly sufferable for feeble souls to see. As the unsetting polar star, which through the livelong, arctic, six months’ night sustains its piercing, steady, central gaze; so Ahab’s purpose now fixedly gleamed down upon the constant midnight of the gloomy crew. It domineered above them so, that all their bodings, doubts, misgivings, fears, were fain to hide beneath their souls, and not sprout forth a single spear or leaf.

No. 2—MUSIC: Slip into a Morning Phase.

Beck’s latest album will doubtless make up most of his set, but you can always keep your fingers crossed that the veteran songwriter will sneak in some gems from his impressive 20-year, 12-album back catalogue (“The New Pollution,” anyone?).

June 27. Sony Centre for the Performing Arts. 1 Front St. E., 855-872-7669, sonycentre.ca.

No. 3—PETS: Adopt a cat.

Stop binging on adorable cat memes and adopt one of ’em, already. This weekend, Toronto Cat Rescue’s Adopt-a-thon makes it easier than ever.

June 28–29. PetSmart. 12 William Kitchen Rd., 416-335-7922, torontocatrescue.ca.

No. 4—PRIDE: Show your Pride

From the world’s biggest gay wedding to the hometown return of Peaches, we select the seven best ways to party at Pride.

No. 5—FILM/TV: Spend a little time with some friends of Dorothy.

Gay characters have come out of the celluloid closet and no longer exclusively exist to support straight leads. That doesn’t mean we don’t love all those flamboyant second bananas who paved the way. From stealth nellies to loud-and-proud queers, we salute the greatest onscreen GBFs.

No. 6—CANADA DAY: Baby, watch some fireworks.

Kick off our country’s birthday festivities a day early on “Canada Eve,” Harbourfront Centre’snew term for June 30. As long as there are fireworks (and don’t worry, there are), we’ll buy it.

If you take our advice on Grid pick No. 23, then all you need to do is stick around Centennial Park for a dazzling show—if you’re not in a food coma, that is.

Mel Lastman Square is the go-to spot for North Yorkers on any light show–worthy holiday. Kid-friendly circus, music, and dance performances precede the grand finale.

If none of the other options tickle your fancy, make the trek out to Ashbridges Bay and find a spot among the mob of beach-bound revellers to get your fill of explosions in the sky.

June 30 (Harbourfront); July 1 (everything else).

Welcome to Doha

ipz — Sat, 21 Jun 2014 13:15:01 +0000

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Takkt Nachhaltigkeitsbericht 2014

ipz — Sat, 21 Jun 2014 13:05:44 +0000

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Honey Hunters of Nepal

ipz — Thu, 19 Jun 2014 18:38:04 +0000

A novel set in the medium-flung future, with a plot that hinges on the theft of a kind of super-book. A super-book that is engrossing, interactive, networked; with pages that change before your eyes; that knows more or less everything. A science-fictional object that served as the lodestone for Amazon’s efforts, in the early 2000s, to develop an e-reader.

In his chronicle of the company, Brad Stone writes: “The early [Kindle] engineers thought of the fictitious textbook in the novel as a template for what they were creating.” A palimpsest of influence, visible to all Amazon customers who log in to manage their super-book stolen from the pages of science fiction. The Kindle isn’t the only piece of technology with these roots, of course—far from it.

As I’m writing this, Oculus VR has recently been acquired by Facebook, and in his note announcing the deal, Mark Zuckerberg writes: These dreams have shaped many of Silicon Valley’s ambitions, but usually, by the time a product emerges. Functioning into the world, its specific sources have been scrubbed away. Journalists and enthusiasts draw dotted lines, literary inspirations are outlined in oral histories recorded years later, but there’s no sticker on the box: As imagined by William Gibson!