A Slap in the Face of Public Taste Remember this is 1917.

A few of those men you see are familiar to me. I recently purchased a t-shirt from a street vendor on Eighth Street right before Third Avenue where it turns into St. Mark's. A woman was selling t-shirts with Russian avant-garde propaganda posters on them along with actual reprints of the posters and hemp bags with the posters on them. She spoke Russian. I asked her what the word samagon meant because I saw it on a t-shirt. She looked at me like she did not hear me. I do not blame her. She probably does not run into many people who speak Russian despite the fact that when you walk a block to Second Avenue there are a few delicious Ukrainian diners and a Ukrainian hostile across the street. She probably lives near there. She also probably knows everyone around there. Perhaps my Slavic features are not as pronounced as I thought. Oh well.

I purchased a black shirt with a saying that I somewhat recognized. Actually, I have seen that same exact shirt before. Once in New York City earlier this summer and once in Syracuse on a male from New Jersey who was visiting a friend for the weekend. To think we three random males have met the same woman in the same spot. I wonder if it was about to rain when they were there. The words were of course Vladimir Mayakovsky and I learned that the picture of a constructivist baby was by Alexander Kruchenykh.

The Niuean Pop Cultural Archive

and

Art The Magazine

I have not even begun to explore these. Perhaps tomorrow when I have more time.