Remember how we told you, with great excitement, that Death Bear would be touring Brooklyn over the weekend? (Death Bear is a conceptual art project (OKAY) in which a fellow named Nate Hill dresses up as a big scary bear, comes to your house, and takes away objects that cause you pain or anxiety.) Apparently this did not end well. (Surprise?) Or it ended too well, when Death Bear ended up at the home of his own ex-lover. And was unable to take away her pain.
Near the end of a day visiting ten or so homes as the character I created Death Bear, (dressed in a black jumpsuit, black boots, a heavy, scary black bear mask, and carting off the objects that bring people pain), I was ambushed by one of my ex-girlfriends, Bailey Nolan aka Moan of Arc along with the performance art group she leads BabySkinGlove. That night, in the apartment, they did a performance intended only for Death Bear.
UM.
When we entered the apartment door, I thought it was a goth party or something. There was only candlelight, and the girl who led me inside had bloody gothic makeup on and a skirt like a vampire, but I didn't recognize her in the dark as someone I knew. But once I was inside and the host (she goes by Birthday Sex) said to me in a psychotic nurse voice, "Hi Death Bear," I knew something was wrong. Think surprise Death Party if that exists (and it should not!)
Did Death Bear end up in death? No, for he lived to blog about it.
They had staged some kind of vampire/witch seance.... What are those pictures over there on the wall? There's panties all over the place.. what? I wanted to appreciate the makeup on their faces better. It looked good. They looked good. They looked sexy. I couldn't do any of this because I was afraid to take my eyes off Bailey who had begun to cry and flail her arms wildly. Real tears? Then (I had to be told later) she took a knife and drove it into the box that she had for me.
Really the whole thing is worth a read. In short, however: Death Bear lives to retrieve pain (and break hearts) another day. Phew?
I DID NOT KNOW THEY COULD MAKE PERFORMANCE ART MORE ANNOYING.
DEATH BEAR: KILLING THE ARTS, ONE PERFORMANCE AT A TIME.
This is normal performance-art annoying. They've just managed to cram their heads up their butts a little farther.
Oh, super, man.
I used to wonder why every performance-art show had the audience sit on the exact same type of extraordinarily uncomfortable metal folding chairs. Now I know that it is just part of the checklist of Standard Ways Performance Art Must Annoy You.
I think there's a licensing body, with inspections. "So you're not intending to get uncomfortably close to the front row? And you're not going to use a shaky, feedback-prone PA system? I don't think we can certify this event."
Really? I think it's an improvement.
Two performance art pieces fueled by drugs and an inflated sense of self-importance enter the same piece of shit apartment in Bushwick. Only one will emerge. This is Performance Art Deathmatch.
One emerges? Not an improvement!
@Nurse: HA!
When "we" entered the apartment door?
He was with a friend who tagged along so he could blog about the Death Bear experience.
He explains that he was with a blogger pal who wanted to tag along! ("...though Death Bear usually travels alone of course.")
I think we're a little creepy. Like if the twins from The Shining grew up to be connoisseurs of fleece vests and Vera Bradley totes.
Pls pls invite Death Bear over the next time you're in your vests.
And just get him to enter the apartment (no need to enter the door).
And also! What kind of pal lets his blogger friend tag along and then writes about the whole thing himself anyway?
@mathnet: But... but... but then he might try to take our fleece vests away from us!!
As walk through the shadow of the valley of Death Bear, I knew no sense.
Jolie, only if those vests were causing you pain...
I would like to know how long ago they had broken up, and why this (clearly unstable) young woman STILL had a tied off used-condom!?
Right away I suspected it was not Death Bears jizz in the condom.
Then I turned quickly from that thought.
's
FYI: according to John Waters 'Bear Cum' is called 'Grism.'
@HiredGoons: Filed away for future use.
I can see we're going to have to explain "performance art" to you from the very beginning. You may want to make a pot of tea.
I will only make it if we can do a Japanese Tea Ceremony.
right?! and all this over a "relationship" that lasted a month?
"a skirt like a vampire" ?????
I wondered about that too! But then I read "my conscious is clear" and realized that Death Bear is illiterate.
I'm wearing vampire socks right now.
You know, the sort of thing you wear on a vampire weekend.
How did you get that Death Bear was "unable to take her pain away"?
Right? I mean, he did eventually leave.
And he took the stabby pictures.
Those are all her married names, dude. Yours is still Death Bear.
He was terrified, ok, but did he take a crap the size of a basketball?
Live by performance art, die by performance art. Appropriate.
Is it just me, or is the Lone Gummybear of the Apocalypse kind of a pussy?
Yes.
I'm confused. Is that a milkman, or Gay Captain Steubing?
This sort of thing is happening in the apartments of 22-28 year olds all over the country, is it not? In California it's fairy wings instead of vampire shit.
I'm just sad that this post isn't tagged with "META-ENABLING", because really, if this isn't, what is?
I used to do this sort of thing with G.I. Joe and Almost All Grown Up Barbie in the basement. Behind the water heater. I did make something like a bear (or maybe it was a vampire) noise. But I don't think many people wanted to read what I colored about it.
Is "vampire seance" an oxymoron?
Just moron.
That's an awful lot of blood for a shaving cut...
Performance Art Gang Wars. I feel bad for the parents of all involved.
I cry foul. A blogger tag-along completely undermines what I considered to be genuine about this piece.
Oh. So performance artists end their relationships in fucked-up and passive-agressive ways, just like the rest of us.
Yes. Only with more bear heads.
"Tar-Baby was a doll made of tar and turpentine, used to entrap Br'er Rabbit in the second of the Uncle Remus stories. The more that Br'er Rabbit fought the Tar-Baby, the more entangled he became. In contemporary usage, "tar baby" refers to any "sticky situation" that is only aggravated by additional contact. The only way to solve such a situation is by separation. Usage with respect to a person is likely to be viewed as controversial as it may have other interpretations."
Wikipedia entry on the subject item.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-aGTNS13SDU
MORE DEATH BEAR, MOM!
Please?
First Vampire Weekend runs into Blink 182 with their respective documentary crews and then performance wankist runs into rival performance wankists whil wanking performatively? Wow, is this entire decade going to be Man Bites Dog?
only if there is a camera crew in tow...
You ever read something on the internet, real innocuous-like and then realize "Oh holy God, I know that asshole"? Because that just happened to me. I will take any questions about Bailey and answer them to the best of my ability, although to be honest I just have a bunch of stories from when she was infatuated with one of my friends.
What was it like when she was infatuated with one of your friends?
An excellent question by the human with the excellent avatar. It was, like I guess most outsider interpretations of terrible relationships, a combination of all things funny, sad, awkward and inconveniencing.
She was way more into him than he was to her, and while I don't want to act like I have better insight into people than everyone else, the weird thing was I was the only one who seemed to notice he wasn't very serious about anything. But he's one of my best friends, so I also didn't care if he was stringing her along. Plus I think he got paid back in full by the universe eventually.
Well, that was fun. Or was it just blog-commenting performance art?
Is she as awesome as she sounds? Who's your friend?
Eh, I didn't ever and do not now consider her awesome at all, but then again she never showed this kind of energy when I knew her and every Facebook invite I get from her performance group sounds like not my scene.
I don't want to name anyone right now, but perhaps I will if Alex and Choire accept my pitch, "I Have Stories Of About An Internet Person of Note Who No One But A Small Group Of People Have Read About. On The Internet." I think the title needs a little work.
That or you can find me in Bushwick and ply me with whiskey.
I'll give you whiskey, name me some names. At least she's hot. And clearly insane.
puuuuuuuuuuuuuulp@gmail.com
Yes, that is real. Hit me up and I will absolutely blow off every safety lesson about meeting strangers from the internet. Shit, it's worked out before.
O hi, Davey, I know where you live. Poor David, let's leave his heart out of this. Watch your back.
Bailey?
Well, that was fun. Or was it just blog-commenting performance art?
(let's try replying to the correct comment thread this time, k?)
I was expecting something really crazy, but this just all reads as "Meh..." Wake me when some Martin Scorsese violence or at least a Silkwood shower happens.
YM4EVA.
www.BabySkinGlove.com
Before Deathbear, Mr. Hill was evidently a rogue taxidermist: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/13/nyregion/thecity/13taxi.html
I once saw this dude getting a BJ in the bathroom at the Bell House. He wasnt the bear at that time, he was dressed like a milk man. It was both gross and funny. I would normally feel bad saying something like this on the internet but since he didn't bother to hide himself really AT ALL, I think its fair game. Anyways, point is, clearly this Death Bear/Milkman has a way with the ladies. The men of Brooklyn can take from that what they will.