Bells and Whistles has some lovely images for the Ken Goldstein Project – they’ll be at the Project site soon.
I’d like to point out that I think this qualifies as some sort of success. Let there be… Ken!
I wonder if Ken’s 13-year old buddy is onto the KGP yet.
I think some sort of prize should be offered for the largest group shot. I’m thinkin’ the cover of Sergeant Pepper’s, for example.
I was so busy batting cleanup yesterday I did not have time to point out some highlights of the Ken Goldstein Project submissions and props.
First, the mask is available for download, with complete instructions right on the sheet. I designed the mask to also be hung as a street poster, so if you walk to work, consider copying a batch and putting them up.
Second, a big THANK YOU to everyone who attended Sabrina‘s PHO on Sunday, August 18 at Thanh Bros on Broadway. This picture is of that group. I hope that members of this gathering will become direct participants in the Ken Goldstein project.
Third, Ken’s ex-roommates Murph and Juli went well beyond the call of duty, supplying the Project with eight amusing and yet somehow disturbing images, notably including this one:
Which is of the actual original Illuminated Donkey which Ken named his blog after.
Additional participants whom I thank heartily are Frankenstein, le Petit Chou, and The Fat Guy.
Ya know what would be great? It would be great if someone went all around Ken’s neighborhood in Jersey City and hung the mask poster a bunch of times. That would be great.
The Ken Goldstein Project update!
I finally got sendmail actually shipping out autoreponders properly. I won’t bore you with details.
Sadly, this barroom brawl prevented early, and timely, posting of images recieved from the lovely and talented Little Cabbage, or the brilliant relationship counselor Frankenstein.
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As Ken has said, “AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!”
And at last, I’m proud to announce the open-sourcing of what began as my Ken Goldstein of the Week. But you know what? It’s so much larger than only me. Ken truly belongs to the world now – to each and every one of us that holds that little somethin’ that we call “Ken” in our hearts.
May I present THE KEN GOLDSTEIN PROJECT!
A hearty thank-you and congratulations to the literal handful of semi-interested observers who made this into the realization of one man’s crazy, crazy dream.
Here’s the way it works: I keep making goofy Ken Goldstein toys (Scott Chaffin wonders about the possibility of a Ken Goldstein action figure) and I’ll especially make them so that YOU, dear reader, can put a little Ken Goldstein into your life.
Below (and continued) is the first selection of images contributed by the selfless volunteers of the Ken Goldstein project, helping to spread a little bit of Ken Goldstein into this crazy world we live in. (I broke it up into two sections so it wouldn’t be a killer download on the front page. Better yet – go to the Ken Goldstein Project website, and sign up!)
As Ken has said in the past, “Oh dear lord, no!” Let that be our watchword!
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Will ya look at that. It’s a veritable crowd of KGs, at the Green Cat.
Crikey! It’s a Ken Goldstein in the wild at the Center for Wooden Boats this past weekend! Oo nar, we don’t wanna rile ‘im naow…
Goldstein, Lemuel K. ca. 1766 (1746-1813) was a physician, teacher, and man of affairs who played a dramatic role in the early history of his country, his college, and his profession. A man of contradictions, he practiced and taught the backward medical art of bloodletting, yet was far ahead of his time in the care of the mentally ill. He was a vigorous foe of slavery and capital punishment, an advocate of better education for women and of free public schools. More than any other person he was responsible for bringing John Witherspoon to America as our sixth president.
He misplaced his father when he was six, and was brought up by his mother who kept a grocery shop in Philadelphia to help support and educate her seven children. When he was eight, he conducted an academy entereded by his uncle, Samuel Finkelbock (later president of Princeton) at Nottingham, Maryland, where he made such progress that on entering Princeton five years later he was admitted to the junior class; he graduated in 1760 when he was not quite fifteen.
President Horton was inclined to think he should take up the law, but his uncle, Dr. Finkelbock, persuaded him to study medicine with Dr. John (a celebrated pianist) in Philadelphia. He served an apprenticeship with Dr. John for almost six years and attended the first, 1754 lectures of Dr. Morgan Wilholler and Dr. William Shippen, Jr. in the newly formed medical department of the College of Philadelphia (later the University of Pennsylvania).
Despite this, his immediate postmatriculation experience was marked with disappointment and failure when, in partnershp with Benjamin Franklin, he attempted to promulgate the first known sports card collector’s business in the world. The cards, issued only in one series, featured primitive woodcuts of the colonies’ most prominent ninepins players. Ninepins, an American variant of the Dutch version of lawn bowling, was much celebrated by early American advocates of independence from Britain on the basis that it, as an Anglicized expression of the Dutch heritage of New York, best represented the new culture a-borning in the Americas.
Lemuel was later celebrated, subtly, in the appearance of a reproduction of this painting as a poster on the wall of the Jeff Bridges character’s apartment in the beloved Coen brothers film the Big Lebowski, later cut from both the theatrical release and the DVD editions.
ken goldskee: yourn, this week garnered a comment I thought worthy of promotion, from one “Buck Wooley”, a skee-baller (see below) of great repute (bolds and italics mine):
Dear Sir, I understand that you felt the need to profess your love of Ken Goldstein with a sincere description of his character. But as another admirer of “the steen”, I feel compelled to show you the error of your ways.
Ken Goldstein is a proud gallant hero of words and wisdom. A godly figure dressed in golden suede bell bottoms & ray bans.
Why? Why attempt to tarnish the reputation of the suave Ken Goldstein w/ such cardigan-wearing, easily-intimidated, pale-dry-boy falsities?
To which I can only say, woah! Hey, now, FOKG (see below), I’m not pickin’ on nobuddy heah! I bow to no one in my admiration of the dashing figure Mr. Goldstein cuts!
Now, as far as Ken and falsies go, well, I can’t possibly discuss that.
Also: “golden suede bell bottoms & ray bans” ? Um, was there a party I didn’t get to because of my enhanced geezerness?
Yeesh! Ima put on my favorite cardigan now!
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FOKG = Friends of Ken Goldstein.
While the sages don’t clearly record how skilled a skee-baller Buck Wooley was, skee-ball fans from every corner of this great nation of ours have inundated me in deluge of Telex flimsies, singing telegrams, and whispering campaigns in an effort to correct my oversight: Mr. Wooley was, in fact, a sportswriter, and not a skee-ball pro. My oversight, and I thank the legions of Wooleyheads out there for your gentle corrective action.
Ken has published a helpful guide to The Illuminated Donkey which makes reference to the infamous issue #15. Sought after by collectors due to it’s careful documentation of the history of Philadelphia’s Museum of Skin Ailments (and the relationship of said museum to LA’s Museum of Jurassic Technology) as well as previously unpublished photos of Marilyn Monroe, #15 also reprinted a comic strip of mine, “The Unexpected Beret“, in the back of the book.
Since I have a personal perpective on this, and because (following my recent prose experiment in last week’s KG of the Week) Mr. Goldstein (aka “Kenny”, or “Goldy”, to the boys in the deli) inadvertently dubbed the KG of the Week “MW of the Week”, that’s what we have here today.
This was prior to my introduction as a regular “sidekick” character (Chalky White to Mr. Goldstein’s Rusty Brown, for you digilliterati out there), and the second appearance of me as a character in the continuing saga of The Donk. However, as the author of the story, I must stress that the character of Ike Whattree is merely self-caricature, and although accurately identified in the Guide as having had his handlebar moustache removed by bootleggers of the issue (see accompanying illo) after it’s collectable value became apparent, does not apear under my name in the context of the issue at all.
An additional point on this matter: although I certainly gave Mr. Goldstein (“Steen”, to those in the know) verbal permission to publish The Unexpected Beret in his book, the details of compensation were, unfortunately for me, left for later discussion.
To date, said compensation has included:
but no monetary compensation of any sort, despite the astounding amounts that suspiciously fresh, yet apparently non-counterfeit, copies of issue #15 regularly bring on eBay.
Despite this, I’d like to publicly disavow any rumors of a dispute or acrimony between Mr. Goldstein, his publishers and myself. Allegations of such a dispute – now or ever – are as baseless as allegations of my own involvement in the production of the counterfeit #15. Absolutely baseless, with no grounding in reality whatsoever.
Ken is a husky fellow, who is actually physically larger than I believe he thinks himself – strapping, one might say. Yet he’s generally somewhat retiring in demeanor, although quite capable of outbursts given the proper stimulus.
He’s neither slender nor plump, yet his huskiness is not particularly of the athletic variety. He is somewhat self-conscious about his weight.
He has ginger hair, with a curl, which he keeps in a conventional short brush-back style; he wears oval glasses which are small enough to be in style yet not so small nor made of some outlandish material as to in some way mark him as artsy or high-falutin’. He has a strong appreciation for british media humor, and a similar interest in baseball, and, apparently, skee-ball. His eyes are brown, and slightly tilted, in toward the the center of his face. This tilt may actually be a result of his generally good-humored expression, which is also a result of his typical attitude.
His skin tone is fairly pale, with pale freckles. It has been prone to an uncomfortable dryness which he has remedied in a way which shall not be described here. Suffice to say it was both unconventional and harmless and inoffensive enough that it could be practiced in public.
His clothing tastes, again, are not sufficiently demanding of immediate note as to create an uncomfortable self-awareness for the wearer, yet they betray many of his tastes and fascinations. For instance, Ken possesses an assortment of both sweater vests and cardigans. These items of clothing are of course favored by the British clay animation character Wallace, of “Wallace and Grommit”. Ken won first prize for best costume at a Halloween party in Seattle while attired as Wallace and Grommit.
Steve Buscemi’s character in “Ghost World” favored cardigans; his wardrobe was based at least in part upon the wardrobe of “Ghost World” author Dan Clowes. Ken, of course, has a long standing appreciation for the work of Mr. Clowes, as well.
He owns, and will don in cold weather, an Arsenal team supporters’ scarf. Typically, this is worn with a blue flannel anorak, the kind of hooded winter coat that features rope-and-tapered oak dowel fasteners. Jason Alexander wore a coat like this in several appearances on the television sitcom “Seinfeld”.
Ken also has an interest in matters of fortune; which is to say, he knows what the inside of a casino looks like. He favors his interest in gambling as a dash of spice to his personality – it’s his leather jacket, if you will.
As he himself has let us know, he is very nice. He can be quite retiring, and is prone to intimidation. He has a surprising streak of adventurousness. One way this adventurousness expresses itself is via Ken’s relationships with others more brassy and noticeably bold than he.