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L.E.S's Number One Mooncalf Fox penis: relevant during wartime? Yes. It’s officially become an upside down world, one where al-Qaeda frogmen snorkel the Gowanus Canal and French toast is dubbed Faggot flapjacks. In this zany new reality, one New York gallery has quietly emerged as the premier institution for bizarre culture. Eighty blocks south of the antediluvian Met and Guggenheim, the Freakatorium is squeezed among weathered Spanish bodegas and chic boutiques in the Lower East Side. At 57 Stanton Street, neo-erudites can peruse the barmy artifacts horded by humanity’s greatest sword swallower. Johnny Fox is a mooncalf. Despite wearing a mask of mediocrity, Fox has devoted the past three decades to devouring fireballs, stalking Siamese piglets, and captivating audiences aside the illustrious Monkey Boy. Since viciously browbeating his high school career counselor, Fox has continued to chop through the shackles of conformity. “In 1970 I designed a revolutionary new technique to swallow swords,” Fox boasts matter-of-factly. “In an homage to a dear mentor, I swallowed 16 swords to recognize the late sword swallower Kar-Mi [an Indian prince] who was heart-wrenchingly never recognized for his own historic achievements.” Fox’s tender demeanor and unsavory exhibits are a breath of fresh oxygen from New York’s elitist gallery airs. Fox is a gentle host, earnestly explaining the historical significance of Sammy Davis’ eye, rare photos of the bearded woman and a breathtaking display of fox penis. The Freakatorium, housing Fox’s extensive 22-year-old collection since 1999, is more than mere madness; it is a testament to his life. Due to sticky legal matters that his Gestapo-esque wife refused to divulge, Fox’s feat of throating sixteen swords is shamefully absent from the Guinness Book of World Records. Then again, at loggerheads with the freak legal code is vintage Fox. |
What if Rupert's acquisition of the Wall Street Journal is just the beginning? Coming to grips with being famous on the world wide web. A reexamination of St. Patrick's worthiness as the don dada of Irish sainthood. The War Report: Storch versus Timbaland, Chimps versus Humans, Dick Cheney versus Iran. Compared to the thrill of going to war, getting out of one is a tiresome and humiliating business. The Game's new album is pretty good, Fabolous hires a private gumshoe and all Republicans are gay. |
