AUGUST No. 2 out next week


Featuring a pithy piece by our own Mr. Murray Moss. This is the new and wonderful magazine from our best pal Dung Ngo. Click on it to find out how to get your hands on a copy.  The August site is still featuring issue No. 1. So learn a little about Milan, it wouldn’t kill you.


Coming soon: Torpedo House, a new concept in gallery presentation

blakerA rare and magical private house gallery, where every room offers superb examples of overpainted vintage press photographs and black and white archival prints, many from the pages of the highly regarded Baltimore Sun. See this work in the residential context of an exquisitely restored 1929 Alice Washburn neo-garrison home where the furniture is as curated as the artworks. 

Jim Walrod

jim walrodSomeone once said half of Jim Walrod is better than double anybody else. What I know for sure is that no Jim at all is rotten, fucked up and really really sad. He died a few days ago, and we all lost a great guy. I’ve never met anyone as generous as Jim. Or as broadly knowing. Or as present. This photo is from a Moss party in 2003. It’s Jim and one of his Beastie Boys, and it sort of says it all–Jim, rapt, taking it all in, and sharing it. He was everywhere.

jim walrod2

Let’s run it up the flagpole and see who takes a knee

boy treeSo flagpole sitting was a big fad in the US in the ’20’s. This kid was photographed in 1929 right at the end of all that fun. Doesn’t he look like he’s having a good time? I suppose there are stupider things to do. Let’s all think really hard and come up with a few. Well done, everyone. Now think of some stupid things that have nothing to do with Trump. Or go click the boy and find out more about this astounding photo.

Today is the first day of the rest of our vintage photographs

mmpi3Beginning today, a charm offensive of monumental proportions has begun, with coordination unseen since Dunkirk, among our various Instagram accounts, Twitter account and Facebook, as well as this blog and the two websites we maintain. The photos in this collection are unbelievable and there’s no way people like yourself would be able to resist grabbing them up if you just knew where to find them. That’s why we have started Operation Hitch Your Wagon to a Star (OHYWS in the confidential memos) the goal of which is to bring overpainted press photographs into the 21st Century and beyond. Over the next days and weeks, we’ll be sharing these with you, on a controlled basis, and I might as well warn you now, it will be First Come, First Served (FCFS) so as the head of the Orphanage always used to say,  Avoid disappointment. Come to dinner early. Each of these beauties is a one of a kind. We urge you to stay in close touch with our various media venues. Really, we’re only thinking of you.


wonderwomenOkay, everybody, how weird is it that the two WONDER WOMEN who brought down the Trump-no-care bill are from Maine and Alaska. Can there be a stranger combo? Two very cold states, let’s begin there. Really really cold. Of course, Alaska is cold. Look where it is, practically at the North Pole. And Maine, let me just disclose I grew up in Northern Maine and it is fucking cold up there. So they have that in common. Maybe there’s something character building in the experience of surviving that kind of cold, year after year. And I will make an assumption here, that Alaska is like Maine in one other regard as well: it’s poor. People are poor. They barely get by. They need all the help they can get, and taking away their new found health insurance would have been catastrophic. Then there’s the woman thing. The Planned Parenthood thing. The maternity thing. The contraceptives thing. So we check points off right down the list. A lot binds them together, it turns out. But hello people, these women are Republicans. How long since Republicans have had any awareness of or sense of responsibility toward issues like these? These two are amazing individuals, and while McCain is getting the headlines for his vote, they are the true heroes in this story because they’ve been stalwart in their fight, and fearless, and indefatigable all along. They didn’t tease. They didn’t make us guess what they’d do. And they put the rest of their party to absolute shame, and they brought shame right to the door of this White House which of course wouldn’t recognize shame if it fell out of the sky and crushed its golf cart. Susan Collins makes me proud to have grown up in Maine.

Why is no one shouting?

Why is he the only person making noise? We all know what’s going on. We all know he plays the media and the news cycle like a cello. And we all enable. Anderson Cooper spends his whole hour in wonderment that what’s happening is happening. People are appalled. People are angry. People are stupified. And yet no one yells back at him. No one stands up at his absurb gatherings and yells back or questions his lies. The Times and the Post are brilliant at their dissection of his plays and his faults but they, like everyone else, are polite. Susan Collins is polite. Chuck Schumer is polite. Why is everyone so fucking polite? He’s not polite. He will obviously get away with every single thing he can get away with and until some court in Hawaii says no, he will keep going. Where is the shouting back? Where is the outrage? Why does our collective formal opposition sit silently by? Where is Elizabeth Fucking Warren? Where is Bernie Fucking Sanders? Where is anybody on Democratic side? Why does even the left news media allow the spokes idiots to get away with what they’re saying? Why doesn’t someone just slug Conway in the fucking jaw? These people are destroying our country. Why doesn’t someone shout at the new spokes liar and call her on what she’s lying about? Why does anyone even go to the press conferences, without video or sound? What exactly is the point? Where does the line get drawn? Does the media need to be required to offer up some lefty reporters to the DC police? We heard them, officer. They were talking trash about the President. Is this what’s next?

Life as we knew it, isn’t


Imagine us sitting in chairs laughing. On the sidewalk in front of a  hardware store. In Connecticut. Well, get over it. We did and here we are, nearly hysterical most of the time. I  certainly do not wish to imply that we just woke up one day and found ourselves here. No, loyal readers, we chose this. And now we must sit on it (to adjust the metaphor slightly).  Now that we have regained our equilibrium, we are back in business and open for business and doing business, and I do not mean the hardware business. I mean the advisory/consulting business. Just from another angle. For a fuller take on this angle I refer to, click on the pic and you will suddenly find yourself on 1stDibs, at a magazine story about the whole thing.


Inadmissible Evidence in Houston


Giant Pink Flamingo x 2, at the MFA shop in Houston

FlamingogoThere’s no business like the pink flamingo business, especially at the Moss Bureau enhanced shop at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston. These babies get a lot of attention. No surprise, really. Just the thing to be riding around your pool on these hot hot summer days. Giddy up, Divine! Eat your heart out, John Waters.