Speaking of Tom Sachs, he’s a multi-media kinda pop-cultural artist, as evidenced by his collection of short films.

They look to be mostly stop-motion animation pieces with funky soundtracks/voiceovers attached. Sachs collaborated with the Neistat Brothers on these, and the influence definitely shows.

My favorites from this group are: “McDonald’s Teaser”, musically accompanied by the late Wesley Willis’ “Rock and Roll McDonald’s”; and “Bitches and Money”, a 1/25th-scale tour through a ghetto, backed appropriately by NWA’s “Gangsta Gangsta”.

In a decided 180-degree from its previous display of Damien Hirst-arranged animal carcasses, Park Avenue’s Lever House is now hosting giant-sized sculptures of Hello Kitty characters.

Why? Because sculpture artist Tom Sachs considers the cutesy Japanese feline to be his pop-cultural muse, worthy of extensive bronze-working, topped with white-paint finishing.

I wandered into this public art display by chance this afternoon. I was heading toward Lexington and wasn’t even aware that I was on 53rd Street until I reached Lever and took a peek. It was a pleasantly jarring surprise to come upon a lunchtime scene festooned with these oversized white beasties. Some of them were working water fountains, which adds a whimsical touch to the overall scene.

Way to cash in, Moldy Peaches.

It was only a few months ago when you were compelled to reunite as part of the soundtrack for indieflick-hit Juno. Having gotten a taste of that — which included mass-audience gawking via “The View” — you’ve now lent your signature song, “Anyone Else But You”, to Atlantis Resort on Paradise Island for their latest TV commercial.

And probably worse, it’s not even the original song, but rather the melody with some reworked, marketing-specific lyrics grafted on. Selling out doesn’t get any more customized. I’d say the indie cred has flown right out the window…

I wish I could find the commercial online; I guess it’s too new to have been YouTubed.

Funny thing. It was a miserably rainy day the last time I was inspired to post an iPod Random 8 list, and so it is again today. Must be a trend.

Anyway, here’s the latest shuffle-determined string of output from my iPod Touch (or “iTouch”, if you prefer). Length of said string synced to 8trk, which I’m told is progressing nicely.

1. “Let Me Think About It (club mix)”, Ida Corr vs. Fedde Le Grand - That I am the true way towards ecstasy.

2. “F-cking Boyfriend (Peaches Remix)”, The Bird And The Bee - When you lay down with me, you never slept that night.

3. “Mysterious Ways”, Angelique Kidjo - She sees the man inside the child.

4. “Mer du Japon (Remix by Kris Menace)”, AIR - J’en perds la raison (I lost my mind).

5. “Relaxation Spa Treatment”, Dan the Automator - [instrumental, no lyrics]

6. “Good Love”, Isaac Hayes (as Chef from “South Park”) - You’ll recommend me to your mother, your sisters, your aunts and your nieces.

7. “Let’s Stay Together”, Al Green - Loving you whether, whether.

8. “Colours”, Donovan - Freedom is a word I rarely use.

What can I say, I derive much amusement from the merest suggestion of McDonald’s-inspired mayhem. Especially when it’s mixed with a fear of clowns.

Or is it more of a fear of fast-food pimpness? I can just imagine this statued Ronald’s accompanying dialogue: “You better have my money before I bitch-slap your McNuggetty ass!”

Madonna’s got a new album out, so that means there’s an expectation of a new “reinvention” look/style for the Material Girl. Past iterations of this impulse brought us lingerie-as-outerwear and vogueing in the 80s, and dominatrix-couture in the 90s — so I guess we’re due for an infusion of Madonna-guided fashion sense.

If her promotional history is any guide, her recent mini-concert at midtown Manhattan’s Roseland Ballroom was the tip-off for her latest direction: She’s anointing the sweatsuit as the uniform of lifestyle hipness.

Why? Because it’s what you wear for where the new musical ground zero resides:

While hardly a groundbreaking aesthetic choice, it makes sense. As New York nightlife, once synonymous with transcendental exuberance, becomes a thing of the past, the most popular place to pump a dance floor anthem is no longer on the dance floor. One of the few destinations where a wide cross-section of the city goes to hear a mix of hip hop, techno, and house music 24/7 is the gym. Equinox is the new Paradise Garage, and Madonna — her finger firmly on the pulse monitor — knows it better than anyone.

Interesting theory. I’d be more convinced if the nouveau health clubs featured in-house mixologists, spinning the latest phat beats for the gym rats. That wouldn’t make much sense, since most people keep workout time to their own personal earbuds-delivered rhythms; but I guess someone’s listening to the piped-in house music.

Another reason why I have trouble accepting the nylon-tracksuit ensemble as dominant clubwear: It reminds me of nothing so much as something The Fat Boys used to cruise around in. And they didn’t do it because they were body-conscious.

…At least, that’s how Wil Wheaton sees it as he expresses much love for everyone’s favorite microblogging platform.

I always appreciate gratuitous “Bust A Move” references, but I question the invocation of the “spam-spam-spam” skit, as that invites unfavorable connotations for any Internet-based communications/feedback system.

As for me, I wouldn’t call myself a Twitter hater, but at the same time, I don’t feel the need to jump aboard. Aside from the value of what I’d put into and get out of it, I don’t know that it’s any more innovative than any other later-stage social-networkish Web app. Besides, enough of my time is occupied with the macroblogging shown here.

My publishing roots compel me to hit the new MoMA exhibit on George Lois‘ iconic Esquire covers from the 1960s and 70s.

While the heady news topics of those times provided ample raw material for Esquire and Lois to weave their magic, there was a much more fundamental design concept at play:

What was remarkable then — and seems even more so now, when virtually every magazine cover is a thicket of text lines running behind or on top of one celebrity or another — is that the Lois covers were virtually textless. They achieved their effect by communicating a single idea through an image.

Relying upon a single image to sell an issue (and that’s what it comes down to for any magazine, really) is a chancy high-wire act. Either the casual browser bites on the compelling cover, or else s/he ignores it and moves on. That’s probably why so many publishers hedge their bets by loading, and overloading, their covers with so much accompanying bullet and blurb text.

And for me, it’s become a turnoff. In fact, I recently canceled my subscription to Lois’ old periodical stomping grounds, in large part because I was finding that those text-gorged covers were constantly turning me off each month. Far from enticing me to open the cover and dive in, the instant in-your-face design seems a bit too desperate for attention.

In a way, it pains me to make that observation. For years, I considered the standard teaser-cover to be pretty user-friendly, even to the point of being a good template for online publishing adaptation (think of each of those cover blurbs as a hyperlink). But somewhere along the way, the aesthetic became diluted, I think.

Today, Lois’ image-only style would stand out simply because every other mass-market title persists with the textual path. It’d be a refreshing change.

Stern Pinball, Inc. is a company that’s in about the most concentrated niche industry that’s possible:

But this place, Stern Pinball Inc., is the last of its kind in the world. A range of companies once mass produced pinball machines, especially in the Chicago area, the one-time capital of the business. Now there is only Stern. And even the dinging and flipping here has slowed: Stern, which used to crank out 27,000 pinball machines each year, is down to around 10,000.

That Chicago connection also played a big part in coin-op videogaming history. In fact, Stern Pinball’s predecessor company produced some 1980s-era arcade videogames. And cross-town rival company Williams went a step further, not only delving into videogames but in fact producing some of the more memorable and challenging games from that era, notably Defender, Joust, and (my personal favorite) Robotron: 2084. As much as Silicon Valley gets credit for birthing Atari, Chicago should get some credit for fostering some eminently playable classic videogaming.

As for pinball, I’m not one who’ll miss it’s eventual passing. I never could get into it. I don’t mind the concept of the ball as a free radical, but so much of the game forces you to be an observer — you watch the ball spring forth, bounce around for a minute or more on various bumpers and bells, and then maybe drop down to the flippers area. Then, even if you get a decent hit, you usually have to wait another several seconds for the ball to descend back down to you. Or, more likely, it drops down dead center, where all your hapless flippering can’t prevent the end of the turn. Woo-hee.

One aside: They still call it the “coin-op industry”. Do any arcade machines still even accept coins — last I noticed, they all had dollar bill feeders, and the newest models even have card-swipe slots. I guess soda and snack machines are part of this business, and they still take coins, so maybe they still justify the industry’s name.

I sure to pick the damnedest times to leave town. While I was funning and sunning in Florida, a silent rave broke out in Union Square yesterday evening.

What’s a silent rave? It’s a rave without sex, without Ecstasy, and without music — at least outwardly-audible music:

It was striking for what could not be heard.

On the west side of the square, city workers ripped up the street with jackhammers. On the east side, a stalled caravan of drivers, no doubt frustrated by streets’ closing for the visit of Pope Benedict XVI, leaned on car horns.

But in the middle, there might as well have been a Cone of Silence. A mass of people — a head-bobbing, arms-above-the-head, conga-line-forming full-tilt boogie-woogie — emitted what seemed like no sound but rather music visible.

Everyone danced in place, listening to an iPod and prancing to his or her own playlist. For long minutes, in the distance, only the square’s ever-present bongo players could be heard, while close up only shoes, or bare feet, could be heard padding on concrete. Video cameras and cellphones were everywhere.

Note that this go at silent raving differs from the conventional version, where all the separate iPods are synced to the same playlist. Personally, I prefer the Union Square method — more chaotic and freeform.

This couldn’t have been a more perfect opportunity for me. I may not be Facebook-enabled to have RSVP’d, but there were other ways of finding out. And the start time: 6:17PM? Practically my lucky number (don’t ask). Plus, like so many New Yorkers, I’m practically fused to my iPod.

The negative is that this is, obviously, little more than a latter-day flashmob scene. But with a decidedly individualistic edge: While social grouping is the point, having everyone listen and groove to their own private soundtrack injects some self-absorbedness into the experience. It’s really the natural next step in the prevalent iPod cocooning that everyone does daily. (That may be corrosive societal trend, but it’s pretty well unstoppable at this stage.)

I’m going to keep my eyes open for the next edition. A repeat of the Union Square site would be just dandy, but any Manhattan location would do.

Last night, while staying out way too late at Tampa’s Channelside pre-fab dancetoriums (note to self: three hours of sleep doesn’t work once the approach to middle age sets in), I had the most minor of epiphanies:

The extreme fragmentation of pop music output that’s a result of legal and illegal Web downloads? It’s nowhere as apparent than it is in an all-comers danceclub. Far too many dance standards from 15 years ago, as if not enough of note has been produced since to push the 90s stuff into (usually thankful) retirement. And the most pathetic part is that the crowd, including the 20somethings who were in diapers when the soundwares of House of Pain and 2 Live Crew were still fresh beats, were actually appreciative of the warmed-over songs.

I guess this means I can revisit a place like Banana Joe’s or Splitsville in another 5-10 years — by which point I’ll be undeniably too old to show my face in such a joint, but whatever — and hear pretty much the same grooves. With a random new iteration of Soulja Boy tossed in, despite itself. The recurring feeling of familiarness just won’t go away.

On the plus side, there was enough eyecandy to make that imperceptible pivot that turned midnight into 4AM within seconds a most pleasurable ride.

Combine videogames and symphony orchestras and you get Virtural Conductor, a Guitar Hero for the budding classical music appreciator.

No, wait — I forgot. Actually, what you really get when you combine videogames and orchestras is gaming soundtracks recast as classical arrangements, complete with laserlight shows. Which I suppose you could work into Virtual Conductor, thus attuning it more closely to gamer sensibilities.

Time for a new spew of shuffled-up tracks out of my iPod Touch. It’s a rainy April Fool’s Day here in New York, and that has nothing to do with this little exercise, but what the heck.

My last listing was back in January, indicating that this musical roundup has taken on a quarterly schedule. It’s anything but intentional, believe me.

As always, the Number Eight is brought to you by 8trk. Coming any day now, I hear.

1. “Starlett Johansson (Narctrax remix)”, The Teenagers - You don’t believe in monogamy.

2. “The Race Is On”, George Jones - Heartaches are going to the inside.

3. “We Are Your Friends (Lee Cabrera’s ‘Lower East Side’ Remix)”, Justice vs. Simian - You’ll never be alone again.

4. “Welcome To The Terrordome”, Public Enemy - Crucifixion ain’t no fiction.

5. “Fat Albert (TV show theme)”, Bill Cosby - And Bill’s gonna show you a thing or two.

6. “The One I Love”, R.E.M. - A simple prop, to occupy my time.

7. “Ch-Check It Out”, Beastie Boys - Sport that fresh attire.

8. “Sympathy For The Devil (Soul To Waste remix)”, Laibach - [instrumental, no lyrics]

There’s a strange dichotomy going on in wedding-gown fashions today:

- On the one hand, body-conscious modern brides are opting for downright risqué outfits, designed to show off well-toned and well-tanned skin (and tattoos, even):

[Natasha] DaSilva is typical of a growing number of brides flouting convention by flaunting their curves. More vamp than virgin, many are selecting gowns that bare a generous expanse of cleavage, midsection, lower back or thigh, temptress styles that may be better suited to a gala or boudoir than to a church or ballroom…

Determined to look torrid on their wedding day, they are picking dresses modeled, say, on the one worn by Christina Aguilera, who was married in 2005 in a gown with a plummeting neckline and ruffled fishtail hem. Or maybe the hope is to emulate Sarah Jessica Parker, who, in the forthcoming film version of “Sex and the City,” spills out of the front of her wedding dress.

- At the opposite end of the blushing-bride presentation is Disney Bridal, which lets a girl walk down the aisle in as snow white a state as possible without being animated. (I’m guessing the groom who marries a Belle wannabe will have to endure Beauty and the Beast jokes all through the reception.)

Both ceremony options are fueled by a particular pop-cultural fantasy. I can’t say one is any more grown-up than the other.

In 1938, Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster got $130 (roughly $1,800 in today’s dollars, per this historical inflation calculator) in exchange for selling all rights to a little character by the name of Superman.

Seventy years later, their heirs have legally reclaimed part of the copyright to the world’s more famous (and marketable) superhero, potentially complicating Time Warner’s use of the character in films and other media.

Compensation to the Siegels would be limited to any work created after their 1999 termination date. Income from the 1978 “Superman” film, or the three sequels that followed in the 1980s, are not at issue. But a “Superman Returns” sequel being planned with the filmmaker Bryan Singer (who has also directed “The Usual Suspects” and “X-Men”) might require payments to the Siegels, should they prevail in a demand that the studio’s income, not just that of the comics unit, be subject to a court-ordered accounting.

What this recounting fails to mention: If the ruling stands, it opens a can of worms. Practically every iconic comics and pop-culture character is probably covered under this precedent: Batman, Spider-Man, Bugs Bunny and hundreds others. The intellectual property held by companies like Time Warner are consistently undervalued; a flood of legal claims not only would rightfully revert rights back to the creators and their families, it might also bring to light just how much money their creations bring to corporate bottom-lines.

I guess there’s just not enough celebrity dirt to go around. What seemed like a slam-dunk print-to-Web migration turned out to not make financial sense, as the New York Post was forced to shutter PageSix.com merely three months after launching it.

PageSix.com started in December as an addition to the print and online versions of Page Six, the New York Post’s highly influential gossip column.

But the site encountered heavy competition for readers from popular gossip Web sites such as TMZ.com, which is owned by AOL, a subsidiary of Time Warner Inc.

How sour could ad sales have been? I can’t believe they couldn’t scrape up enough eyeballs, even if only among New Yorkers most familiar with the Post’s tongue-wagging format.

The only thing I can think of is that they didn’t open up commenting on the site, which to me seems like the most engaging part of other online gossip rags. Unfortunately, there’s no archive to look at yet, so I can only guess.

From the start, the strategy behind iTunes has been to spurn the subscription model in favor of straight track/album sales. It’s made them the market leader in digital music, so you’d think it’s the right idea.

So why is Apple now allegedly contemplating unlimited access to the iTunes Store with every iPhone and iPod sold, to be covered in a sticker-price increase for the digital media devices?

Here’s the structure of the concept:

This latest concept is similar to Nokia’s “Comes With Music” program set to launch later this year. Nokia is reportedly rolling an $80 fee into the price of compatible phones for one year of access to Nokia’s music store, which includes music from labels like Universal.

Apple’s plan is different in several respects. Since the average iPod owner buys about 20 tracks from the iTunes, Apple wants to make the premium about $20, arguing that it should cover the average consumer’s downloads. Then the owner can make unlimited music downloads from the iTunes Store for the life of the device. Once downloaded, the tracks are yours to keep, even if you get rid of the original iPod or iPhone. And since iPod and phone owners tend to replace devices fairly regularly, the record labels would be getting the fee whether or not the consumer makes any further downloads. Silicon Alley Insider did the math and thinks it’s a good deal all around. But according to the Financial Times’ sources, the labels are looking for numbers closer to the $80 Nokia is reported to be paying.

Is this enough of an incentive to overcome the jacked-up price? Apple’s devices already sell at a premium compared to competitor gadgets, and while that hasn’t stopped the iPhone and iPod from becoming ubiquitous, how high can they go in price point before consumers decide to pass?

Plus, this plan sort of assumes that a new owner will need the unfettered iTunes access to start loading up their iPhone or iPod. In fact, most people probably already have at least a modest digital music/movie collection on their computers that they can immediately start transferring to their new toy. Or is an unlimited iTunes offer a subtle way of veering people away from P2P networks?

It’s not a necessity, but the thrust of the idea seems to be the use of an iPhone/wi-fi connected iPod as the primary conduit for obtaining music off iTunes — not the traditional computer-to-iPod route. That in itself indicates that Apple sees a major shift in how people are getting their music (perhaps backed up by solid data from their servers).

What does recession, large-scale financial institutional collapse and currency devaluation bring to mind?

Of course: Planet of the Apes, where a hierarchy of primate greed is to blame for our fiscal woes.

Giant Apes - Capitalists ruling the Jungle through asset management

Orangutans - Puppet leaders in power positions, yet controlled by Apes

Gorillas - Enforcers whose brute strength protects the Apes power

Chimpanzees - Masses of workers manipulated like the Humanoids

Flying Monkeys - New high-tech species immigrated from Land of Oz

Even though MarketWatch columnist Paul B. Farrell goes way overboard with the damn-dirty-apes motif, he does present a crazy-quilt cast that somehow makes sense. Take, for example, the Wall Street equivalents for one simian class:

Orangutans: Puppet Leaders

8. Politicians, Congress & Executive. Follow lobbyists’ orders; love perks, status

9. Securities and Exchange Commission. Always favors industry over investors

10. Mutual fund directors. Paid over $250,000 annually, favor their insiders

I guess the appropriate d’enouement to this monkey business will be the realization that this was our planet all along. You maniacs, you blew it all up!

To raise the $75,000 necessary to make her next album, former one-hit wonder Jill “I Kissed A Girl” Sobule came up with a novel idea: Asking for telethon-like contributions ranging from $5 to $10,000, which net back anything from a free digital download of the completed album all the way up to the opportunity to sing on the record with Jill.

The Web-driven goal was reached and then some, with $80 thou as the grand total. Not bad for someone who was fishing around for ideas on this back in September.

That’s still a pretty lengthy fundraising cycle. Jill could have expedited the process by, say, fucking the governor of New York. That seems to be working for the now-infamous Ashley Alexandra Dupré, who’s outing as Eliot Spitzer’s “Kristen” call-girl is apparently parlaying into spiked popularity for her budding singing career.

Although I question how valid that claim is. From what I can see, you can listen to Dupré’s two songs on Amie Street all you want without buying the tracks. Does that translate to the “popularity” that’s boosting their price? I’m doubting that many people are actually coughing up money here.

Still, it’s exposure, and radio stations are warming up to the songs. Dupré might just be on her way to bigger musical fame and fortune than Sobule will ever achieve, without the begging for money part.

When Michael Eisner touted synergy across all Disney-owned media properties, I doubt he ever had anything like this in mind: The one and only Snoop Dogg will be guest-starring on “One Life to Live”, and will be remixing the soap opera’s theme song to boot.

Can’t wait to snap that track up off iTunes…

It’s a pretty blatant marriage of commercial convenience, so I don’t know why Disney’s PR wonks felt the need to manufacture some deeper connection:

“I’ve been a fan of ‘One Life to Live’ since I was a baby,” said Snoop, who’s set to perform “Sensual Seduction” and “Life of Da Party.”

“My momma always had it on the tube in tha crib growing up. The opportunity to change up the theme song and give it some of my flavor will make the show the Life of The Party.”

Tha Doggfather, a soap devotee? Riiiiiight. Not even when high.

From Frank Miller’s seminal “Batman: The Dark Knight Returns”:

Joker: They could put me in a helicopter and fly me up into the air and line the bodies head to toe on the ground in delightful geometric patterns like an endless June Taylor Dancers routine —

– And it would never be enough.

No, I don’t keep count. But you do.

And I love you for it.

I don’t think I have to spell out who keeps count in this scenario.