Archive for Action Photo

People Send Out Fire to Prepare for the Winter Months: Issue 51 Action Shots!!

Posted in Issue Fifty-One with tags , , , on December 30, 2013 by mohawko

At last! Just in time for the latest year in our century, we are proud to present a group of Action Photos from Issue 51, worn by Jessica Otto around Jacksonville, Arkansas, as we transition into the full-fledged winter months.

Before we begin, however, a small but important digression: THE SAFETY PIN REVIEW’S FIRST CONTEST ENDS AT THE END OF THE DAY JANUARY 1, GIVING YOU JUST OVER 48 HOURS TO GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER AND SEND SOMETHING. THE CONTEST IS 100% FREE TO ENTER AND THE REWARDS ARE VIRTUALLY ENDLESS, SO REALLY, THERE’S NO REASON NOT TO. TELL YOUR FRIENDS. TELL YOUR ENEMIES (JUST SO YOU CAN BEAT THEM, SWEET VICTORY).

Now then, this is where we were:

The Trees Go Bare in Anticipation

The Trees Start to Go Bare in Anticipation

(at River Market)
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The War Begins in the Corporate Hive

The Revolution Begins in the Corporate Hive

(at Wal-Mart)
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The Ground & the Sky Mist Each Other

The Ground & the Sky Mist Each Other

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Just Another Perfect Anatomy

Just Another Perfect Anatomy

(at Black Cobra Tattoos)
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Happy new year! Go make something beautiful.

Eggs in the California Sun: Issue 50 Action Shots!

Posted in Action Photos!, Issue Fifty with tags , , , on October 24, 2013 by mohawko

Welcome back! We’re proud to present (finally!) the action shots of Issue 50, collected by Operative Ashley Tobin around Orange County, CA, in the warmest days of this summer (photos and commentary both by the operative).

Little Paris

Little Paris

Gazing at the Eiffel Tower mural in my great aunt Cheryl’s tea shop, “Paris in a Cup.” It’s located in the historic “Orange Circle,” in Southern California. If you’re ever around there, check it out. *wink wink*

Some Shapes

Some Shapes

Leaving “The Perfect Circle” cupcakery, also located in the “Orange Circle.” Yes, I am aware that cupcakery is not an actual word, but bear with me.

The Best Ones

The Best Ones

Outside of “Paris in a Cup.” It was imperative to my little sister that she be in some of the pictures with me.

Wildlife

Wildlife

The iconic water fountain in the center of the “Orange Circle.” It seemed that the event that was going on around me was a meet and greet with locals and Orange County bikers. Yes, very enthralling.

Road Signs

Road Signs

Examining Audrey and the wall decals of the cupcakery in all their glory.

ONE MORE YEAR

ONE MORE YEAR

The harmonious voices of my family rang out in this picture while they sang “Happy Birthday” to me.

Reversal

Reversal

Late night picture of a late night food run.

"The Mermaid Lagoon"

“The Mermaid Lagoon”

Hiking to “The Mermaid Lagoon,” a quaint little water hole my father and I found when I was younger.

The Oversized Plants of California

The Giant Flora of California

Indulging in Indian cuisine at Himalayan Grill in Huntington Beach.

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Many, many thanks to both Alisa Golden and Ashley Tobin for making 50 issues come off in fine style.

Next issue, we are heading to the swamps.

The Last Days of the Hoosier: Issue 49.3 Action Shots

Posted in Issue Forty-Nine (Part Three) with tags , , , on August 26, 2013 by mohawko

We are thrilled to present the following action shots of Issue 49.3, brought to us, words and all, by Operative Tyler Gobble:

“My Time With A Little Piece of Rad Tadd on My Back”

This rad Tadd poem stuck to me during my last weekend in Indiana. Tadd lived in Indiana when he was a younger Tadd. Did you know that? Me, I just moved to Austin, Texas, after almost 25 years of Hoosier fun. My galpal Layne starts grad school at UT next week or something. I’m in the library right now, pretending to be a freshman. Cal McGraw, aquatic equestrianism major, in case anyone asks. Anyhow, I wore this as I bustled about central Indiana that final weekend, saying buh-byes and getting amped up for the move. Here’s the story of that. I call it “My Time With A Little Piece of Rad Tadd on my Back”:

(No Pants)

(No Pants)

First step of being a good operative is always finding some pants to wear. Here I am finding some pants to wear.

(Beer)

(Beer for Last Cornhole Playin’ Night With My Dad)

Next step is buying some beer. That’s probably not true, but what do I know? I’m only a freshman!

My dad prefers Bud Light. I bought him a bunch of Bud Light, though not all those cases you see in the picture. That’d be crazy! It was for my going-away party. My parents are really nice people (hi mom! hi dad!) and grilled up a bunch of burgers and unthawed a bunch of pre-baked cookies and let people who like me hang out all night and play cornhole and drink beer. My mom even gave two sacks of leftovers to my friend Turner! Wow, mom!

My mom kept asking me to explain Safety Pin Review and let her friends read the poem. Then, they’d say, “I don’t get it. Who’s bones are they?” And my mom would say, “Only Tyler, am I right?!” (She wasn’t right. There are many cool operatives!)

(Huggin' Pals)

(Huggin’ Pals)

I’ve never been the one to leave. It’s weird being the one to leave. A necessary step is hugging people goodbye. In the hat, that’s my friend, Davis. Davis didn’t know I had the patch on so he just thought Layne was taking pictures of me hugging dudes, which she’d totally do. Stop being a weirdo, Layne!

I hugged Davis goodbye at the beginning of the summer because he moved to Chicago, but he didn’t like it much so he came back. And then, I left. What a butthead!

(Shoppin' for Tanks)

(Shoppin’ for Tanks)

I had to buy some new clothes because my medium tanks are getting too small on me and my shorts (I realized during the taking of this picture, I haven’t bought new shorts since freshman year of high school!) are starting to fall apart. I needed to make a good impression as a (fake) incoming UT freshman. I bought two pairs of Tony Hawk cargo skate shorts and two tanks (one has a giant shark on it and the other is bright orange and says BEEF CAKE), in case you wanted to know.

(Strip Club)

(Strip Club)

This dark box is a strip club. I needed to break in my BEEF CAKE tank (after a careful transfer of the patch), so we went to Muncie’s strip club, Joker’s Wild.

It wasn’t weird at all! The bouncer has been in two UFC pay-per-view fights and has been hit in the head with a 2×4 (though that was in the parking lot of Joker’s, not a ring). He read the poem at least twice. He called me “an intelligent motherfucker.” Thank you, bouncer badass guy, but Tadd is the intelligent motherfucker!

One of the strippers asked me what a BEEF CAKE was. I said, I guess we’ll find out. That was the weirdest part. Who doesn’t know what a BEEF CAKE is?

(Shoppin' for Motorcycle)

(Shoppin’ for Motorcycle)

This is how I say goodbye to my friend Alina, by picking out a motorcycle for me. I chose this one because of the way the green lights accentuate the flame paint job. I rode it down to Texas. I was wearing my shark tank top with the poem pinned on. People got into wrecks reading the poem off my hog-hustling back. That seems like a great way to end this story, am I right Tadd?

(Buh-Bye)

(Buh-Bye)

Here’s a little bonus: I call it “Thumbs Up Goodbye.”

*

We love you. See you all soon.

BONNAROO: Issue 49.2 Action Shots!

Posted in Action Photos!, Issue Forty-Nine (Part Two) with tags , , , on July 28, 2013 by mohawko

We are delighted to present the following photo-set of our latest issue, brought to us filtered through beauty both natural and teeming by Operative Dillon J. Welch, straight out of Manchester, TN and the set of Bonnaroo, where people wear birds like clothes (commentary by none other than the operative himself):

2

THE KIDS ARE JUST FINE

Got the tent popped, the carpet spread, the canopy hoisted, and the generator up and running in record time. This one’s for sitting back and admiring your own work. This one’s for beer. This one’s for the kids.

3

WHAT MOST FAIL TO UNDERSTAND UPON INITIAL INSPECTION, ALL AT ONCE BECOMES CLEAR

On the hottest day of the week, it’s okay to drink a glass of lemonade. Here you can see me standing in an actual stance of “being okay with drinking a glass of lemonade.” A curious festival-goer behind me in line said “What does his shirt say?” And then she said “I don’t get it.” And then she said “Oh—I get it now.” She gets it now.

ALWAYS AIM FOR THE OIL DRUMS

ALWAYS AIM FOR THE OIL DRUMS

The Bonnaroo arch. A symbol of freedom. A symbol of not really knowing where your wallet is, even though you could’ve sworn you left it in the center console in your car, but it wasn’t there the last time you looked. Important to note the exhausted looking horde moving slowly through the serpentine railing formation. Note the grass, trampled and greying. Note the sky, the trees, the oil drum trash can (deftly labeled “Trash!”).

CROSSING THE THRESHOLD

CROSSING THE THRESHOLD

Crossing the Threshold, 2013, Silver gelatin print, 14 x 10 inches

THEODORE

THEODORE

Standing in front of Bonnaroo’s famous “Silent Disco” tent. It is in this tent where a man named Ted wears headphones and dances with an air of sudden and stifling uncertainty. It is there where Ted sways slightly to the left, and then slightly to the right. Ted knows a crowd stands just beyond the railing, silently judging his every quiet, unfortunate movement. It is in this tent where Ted will shed a layer of his skin. He will violently cocoon himself to the tune of some in-house DJ’s twee interpretation of Katy Perry’s “Teenage Dream.” He will break free and moth into the wild and untethered night.

Or maybe he’ll get drunk and sing along to “Free Falling” with Tom Petty’s reanimated corpse.

TRADITIONAL CEREMONIAL DRESS

TRADITIONAL CEREMONIAL DRESS

On my way to see Björk wear some kind of endangered bird around her neck like a marvelous heirloom. Bro in the jersey told me Daniel Tosh insulted his forlorn mother. In this picture, Bro is on his way to the craft beer tent to dunk his head in a vat of the heartiest local pilsner.

8

SOME FLAGS, NO MATTER HOW HIGH YOU HOIST THEM, ARE DESTINED TO BE TORN DOWN

My friend Colton knows all of the words to Jack Johnson’s “Bubble Toes.”

Camera guy (Corey) got annoyed with my constant photo demands. Here you can see me pretending to enjoy the music, while standing still enough to avoid blurry pictures. [Note: I tried to get The Tallest Man on Earth to give a shout out to Safety Pin, but he wasn’t having it. Whatever. The man’s a liar. He’s not even tall. He’s not even short enough for his name to be ironic.]

3

LIKEWISE, SOME NATURAL STRUCTURES ARE MEANT TO BE TORN DOWN

LIKEWISE, SOME NATURAL STRUCTURES ARE MEANT TO BE TORN DOWN

After a long week of poor decisions and finding oneself perfectly lost in the dark of a field full of drugged-out twenty-somethings, it’s important to reflect on what makes you a person, what makes you tangible. This is a waterfall. It is large and made of water. Beneath it are rocks. Beneath all of us are rocks. Miley Cyrus once swung on a rope swing above this very waterfall. Miley Cyrus knows about the rocks beneath us all.

BLOCKAGE

BLOCKAGE

I ate a cheeseburger from Wendy’s just before this picture. It was beautiful. It made me feel like a wind-torn statue. I think that’s all I want in life: to feel like something solid, immovable. And cheeseburgers from Wendy’s.

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See you soon.

 

Empirical Data #1: Issue 49 (Part One) Action Photos!!

Posted in Action Photos!, Issue Forty-Nine (Part One) with tags , , , on July 9, 2013 by mohawko

We’re just thrilled to present the first grouping of Action Shots from Issue 49, a three-poem series brought to us by James Tadd Adcox. The first piece is worn here by Operative Afra al-Mussawir in Austin, TX (with commentary by the operative!):

The Vehicle AKA the Wheelchair

The Vehicle AKA the Wheelchair

If you stare at a wheelchair long enough, will it become a small bird?

*

If you stare at a woman in a wheelchair long enough, will she become nameless and comforting?

Ready to Work Out

Ready to Work Out

and

At the Wheelchair Fitness Center

At the Wheelchair Fitness Center

…where the poem sparked an unexpected and bewildering debate as to whether it was really possible for a bird to remain nameless for long. I got a few “Oh, I like that” and “Yeah, I saw that–what’s that all about?” responses.

BBQ #1

BBQ #1

*

BBQ #2

BBQ #2

*

BBQ #5

BBQ #5

Group lunch at the BBQ place after working out. The guy behind the register didn’t see the poem until I turned around to model it for him. His response was: “Yeah, I like that.” The people on line behind me didn’t comment; I think they were too hungry to appreciate The Scientific Method.

Outside Quack's

Outside Quack’s

I played chess with my friend Victor in this coffee shop, and after he finished squashing me like a bug, I waited outside for my ride home. A café employee bussing tables outside asked me, “So, who won?” I distracted him by pointing out the poem. “I like that,” he said. “About the bird. I like that.” Then he agreed to take a pic featuring the poem and the coffee shop storefront.

Keep Austin Weird

Keep Austin Weird

I think sometimes Austinites try too hard.

When I asked the cashier at a department store if he wanted to see the poem on my back, the lady behind me on line piped up. “I read it!” she said. “It’s good,” she assured the cashier.

Outside the Old Toy Joy

Outside the Old Toy Joy

It turns out Toy Joy is moving to a downtown location – NOOOOOO!!! I caught them just as they were moving some last items, the hand chairs being the last to get loaded onto to the truck. Total transformation I can handle – even turning into a bird – but moving downtown? I’m gonna miss those chairs. Oh, and the plastic Godzillas in the window display.

49 - Alborz

Alborz

At the Persian restaurant. I think probably the belly dancer was twirling too fast to catch the poem, but my friend’s cousin took a pic of it for herself. See, I was right: no one can appreciate poetry until after they’ve eaten.

TFB

TFB

Breakfast at the Texas French Bread down the block from the old Toy Joy. No one commented on the poem. Adults are not supposed to stare at people in wheelchairs. I wished they would so that I could fly off in a flurry of feathers.*

*No birds were harmed in the making of this photoessay, but brisket was consumed with gusto.

WOLF LEVEL: Issue 47 Action Shots!

Posted in Issue Forty-Seven with tags , , , on April 20, 2013 by mohawko

The best: we bring to you Action Shots of Rion Amilcar Scott’s story from Issue 47, alongside the astute academic analysis Operative Cassandra Gillig is known for. And I quote:

issue 47 (1)

 

This photo was taken in Hoboken, NJ. New Jersey is the most underrated state in the US. Later this day I went to see my friend Rory’s band play at Maxwell’s, a small yet somewhat famous venue. His parents attended, which I found endearing. They also brought more parents with them. There was a lot of gorgeous dad dancing. One mother stopped me and said, “What is on your back? It is very violent.” Parents just don’t understand!

issue 47 (2)

 

This photo was taken in New Brunswick, NJ, where I live with my husband and three wonderful children. My children asked me about Rion’s poem, and I said “Mommy’s working!” and spanked them and sent them back to their rooms. My youngest, Spencer, is such a troublemaker! I love my family so much! My husband said Rion’s poem is very Kafkaesque and then we started to file our taxes and make a grocery list – he is so good to me, my husband.

issue 47 (3)

 

This photo was taken in a hospital. My friend Jennifer’s kidneys are broken. It is cute because my pancreas is broken, so we have both taken each other to the hospital. I made Jennifer take this photo while she was on morphine and kind of giddy. There are – mysteriously – no other people in this photo. Maybe it was a ghost hospital. Who is to say? Jennifer is mostly better now. One nurse said – as I walked past her in the hallway – ”‘Them wolfs’?  Isn’t it ‘wolves’?” “I don’t know,” I told her, “I’m pretty sure it’s ‘wolfs.’”

issue 47 (4)

 

This photo was taken in New York, NY. I’m all up on Frederick Douglass. Frederick Douglass read Rion’s poem and was like “Damn.” I was like “I know” and he was like “Do you want to go out to dinner sometime?” and I was like “I can’t, I’m married, you know that” and he put two fingers to my lips and said, “Shh baby never say never” and I was like “I didn’t even say never” then literally he froze into stone and that is how the statue of Frederick Douglass in front of the New York Historical Society came to be. Absolutely do not trust any other account.

issue 47 (5)

 

This photo was also taken in New York, NY. Here you can see how excellent I am at napping in museums. This entire exhibit was paintings of goddamn birds AKA FOR THE BIRDS. A woman in the museum bathroom said, “Well that is just lovely.” I told her, “Go away I don’t want to talk to you!!!” and spit water on her dress. Bird people ew!!!!

issue 47 (6)

 

This photo is a bonus picture that is on some MC Escher shit get on my level.

*

Thank you, Cassandra. Thank you, Rion.

Texan Royalty and the Future of Poetry: Issue 45 Action Shots!

Posted in Action Photos!, Issue Forty-Five with tags , , , on February 9, 2013 by mohawko

Fresh from the tumbleweed-ridden lands of Austin, TX and the back of Operative Joey, the SPR is proud to present the following, shamelessly political set of Action Shots, premiering with this artful, windswept portrait:

Arms Reaching Out to No One

Arms Reaching Out to No One

*

Next, we visit the royal palaces of Texas.

Before the Gates of Montezuma

Before the Gates of Montezuma

*

Inside the Gates (A Sacrifice Is Made)

Inside the Gates (A Sacrifice Is Made)

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On the walls of the palace:

Joey w/ A Bush

Joey w/ A Bush

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Lighting the Fire of Revolution

Lighting the Fire of Revolution

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PIONEERS

PIONEERS

*

On his journeys with the story on his back, Joey collected three tales (in his own words):

The Wilted Leaves of the Modern Art

The Wilted Leaves of the Modern Art

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1) The first day I wore it a couple of elderly women sitting behind me at a coffee shop asked to take my picture – they said that they loved it.
Shimmery People

Shimmery People

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2) One day as I was walking to a diner a man, who looked rather scraggly, with a staff (although I suppose he called it a bow, does that make it a bow staff?) yelled at me to stop so that he could read it. I bit back the fear, but only for you my good sir [curator/browbeater], and let him approach. He then explained that if some guy kissed him he would probably hit him with the very staff he was toting – he then further related an event in which he did use that staff to hit someone in the head repeatedly – no worries, I made it to the diner.
(EDITORIAL NOTE: This is the kind of people who inhabit Austin, TX. Casual staff-wielders. Probably dressed like the shimmeries in the photo.)
Joey Is Addicted to Firepower

Joey Is Addicted to Firepower

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3) the night of my birthday I was wearing it at a club – two older gay gentlemen asked me about it, and then laughed at the age – saying that they were about 60.
The Faces That Are Always Watching

The Faces That Are Always Watching

*

Where Children Go to Drown

Where Children Go to Drown

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Holiday Cheer Lasts Forever

Holiday Cheer Lasts Forever

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Majesty:

The Man Who Learned to Fly

The Man Who Learned to Fly

And so we have achieved the power of flight.

Welcome to Texas.

Mucho thanks to Joey Holloway, for wearing Cassandra’s poem; to Cassandra Gillig, for contributing the poem and turning the SPR on its side; and to Chad Redden, for being the muse.

See you next week.