The Eve of The Eve Of Destruction.
I got out of work early on the eve of New Year's Eve and I thought that it would just be a brilliant idea to go up to Times Square. Yes. They're handing out crack pipes at work now. What was I thinking? Not much apparently, but that's ok. I braved the ridiculously crowded sidewalks and got some pics of the the latest 59th Minute, Aida Ruilova's Countdown.
As usual, it was worth it. I love the mangling of the countdown, the destruction of expectation that Ruilova's piece pulls off. Especially in a place (and in a moment) that is so worshipful of both gods. Burn, baby, burn.
As usual, it was worth it. I love the mangling of the countdown, the destruction of expectation that Ruilova's piece pulls off. Especially in a place (and in a moment) that is so worshipful of both gods. Burn, baby, burn.
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