SLUG Contributor Limelight

November marks the second cover New yorker Brennan Cavanaugh has shot for SLUG this year. Brennan’s imagery can frequently be seen on the walls of Soho Galleries or in big-time glossies like Magnet and Playboy.  When asked to sum up his current career Mr. Cavanaugh sent SLUG the following message: I’m writing a bio. I’m hiring a ghost-writer. I’m flying an airplan right now. A High-Powered Business Man just entered my office. I’ve been Valerie Plame for 18 years now. I am not now nor have I ever been Sunni. Liberace was my bitch when Mick was his. I mourn Joe Strummer and Johnny Cash in the same mantra. I am sponsored by Armor-All and kept in a dirt shack by the estate of Robert Smithson. The rings of coffee cups and whiskey jaggers are my face and breast tattoos. My palette is cleft by Acid Mothers Temple. Sharpies stain my ass pockets, and NPH is, though forgotten, not burnt out. PIL rock Brooklyn. Babylon is the new old school. White rap is the new Old Jack. Gwen Stefani is the hybrid Bob Pollard.  Ice Hockey is the White Sox. God Rest Contax. My ultrasound produces hypnotic light beams meant to soothe the rocks in your drink. I Love the SLUG Girls. Indira Ghandi has nothing on the Statue of Liberty, so she says after a few sherries in the Jaguar.  A tree fort on the upper east side of Central Park is waiting for you with more information. But I’ll be under the nets of the Newly Constructed Williamsburg Bridge, buying drinks for Eric Delphenich. The dogs are not a problem. Fly through windows, smash into doors. Dismantle tje drive train. Engage the parents in law. Love the smashed nasal cavity. And the new baby. Brevity. To Adam. Piss-streams from skyscrapers. Love to Salt Lake, Europe, The World.

God Bless Slug,

Brennan Cavanaugh