Archive for August, 2010


the films of WILLIAM KLEIN…



evil controllers, fantastic fashion and futurology — but even as satire this film is far less absurd than the house-format reality shows it foresees…

“I had a big project I wanted to do around 1973.  The French had these delusions of grandeur inherited from DeGaulle.  They wanted to make, oout of nothing, new cities, and I wanted to show how rediculous all this was.  I never got the money to make this film, but I had a government advance.  So I developed just part of it about this model couple in a model apartment who were being tested night and day – a science fiction farce.  The couple were Anemone and Andre Dussolier; it was her first commercial role and one of his first parts as well.”

– William Klein 1988

“THE MODEL COUPLE” 1977 directed by William Klein

once impossible to find, now part of Criterion’s box set “The Delirious Fictions of William Klein” along with “Mr. Freedom” and “Who Are You Polly Magoo”…

dig the films of WILLIAM KLEIN — PART 1 and PART 2

(quote excerpted from a conversation with Johnathan Rosenbaum, “Cinema Outsider: The Films of William Klein”, Walker Art Center 1989)

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screened at this years Tribeca Film Festival and set to be released next month on DVD, “Keep Surfing” centers around Eisbach River surfers…

the Eisbach wave, located in the middle of downtown Munich — just outside the Haus der Kunst (big art museum) in the Englischer Garten (big park), about 300 miles from the nearest coast — is a phenomena up there with surfing lake Michigan

these photos were taken in ’96 and already the wave, which at about 3 feet, hovers in the low 40°s year round, had been surfed for almost a quarter century — people wait in line and drop in from the bank one at a time…

see the travel guide Destination Munich for more photos and a facts about the wave — and a map to Munich’s other wave, the Floßlände in the south…

“KEEP SURFING” 2009 directed by Björn Richie Lob

watch the trailer here


a policy of no contact…


in Rondônia, Brazil lives the one guy still not on Facebook


Kinski is not the most isolated man…


The most isolated man on the planet will spend tonight inside a leafy palm-thatch hut in the Brazilian Amazon. As always, insects will darn the air. Spider monkeys will patrol the treetops. Wild pigs will root in the undergrowth. And the man will remain a quietly anonymous fixture of the landscape, camouflaged to the point of near invisibility.

That description relies on a few unknowable assumptions, obviously, but they’re relatively safe. The man’s isolation has been so well-established—and is so mind-bendingly extreme—that portraying him silently enduring another moment of utter solitude is a practical guarantee of reportorial accuracy.

He’s an Indian, and Brazilian officials have concluded that he’s the last survivor of an uncontacted tribe. They first became aware of his existence nearly 15 years ago and for a decade launched numerous expeditions to track him, to ensure his safety, and to try to establish peaceful contact with him. In 2007, with ranching and logging closing in quickly on all sides, government officials declared a 31-square-mile area around him off-limits to trespassing and development. It’s meant to be a safe zone. He’s still in there. Alone.

History offers few examples of people who can rival his solitude in terms of duration and degree. The one that comes closest is the “Lone Woman of San Nicolas“—an Indian woman first spotted by an otter hunter in 1853, completely alone on an island off the coast of California. Catholic priests who sent a boat to fetch her determined that she had been alone for as long as 18 years, the last survivor of her tribe. But the details of her survival were never really fleshed out. She died just weeks after being “rescued.”

Certainly other last tribesmen and women have succumbed unobserved throughout history, the world unaware of their passing. But what makes the man in Brazil unique is not merely the extent of his solitude or the fact that the government is aware of his existence. It’s the way they’ve responded to it.

Advanced societies invariably have subsumed whatever indigenous populations they’ve encountered, determining those tribes’ fates for them. But Brazil is in the middle of an experiment. If peaceful contact is established with the lone Indian, they want it to be his choice. They’ve dubbed this the “Policy of No Contact.” After years of often-tragic attempts to assimilate into modern life the people who still inhabit the few remaining wild places on the planet, the policy is a step in a totally different direction. The case of the lone Indian represents its most challenging test.

A few Brazilians first heard of the lone Indian in 1996, when loggers in the western state of Rondônia began spreading a rumor: A wild man was in the forest, and he seemed to be alone. Government field agents specializing in isolated tribes soon found one of his huts—a tiny shelter of palm thatch, with a mysterious hole dug in the center of the floor. As they continued to search for whoever had built that hut, they discovered that the man was on the run, moving from shelter to shelter, abandoning each hut as soon as loggers—or the agents—got close. No other tribes in the region were known to live like he did, digging holes inside of huts—more than five feet deep, rectangular, serving no apparent purpose. He didn’t seem to be a stray castaway from a documented tribe.

Eventually, the agents found the man. He was unclothed, appeared to be in his mid-30s (he’s now in his late 40s, give or take a few years), and always armed with a bow-and-arrow. Their encounters fell into a well-worn pattern: tense standoffs, ending in frustration or tragedy. On one occasion, the Indian delivered a clear message to one agent who pushed the attempts at contact too far: an arrow to the chest.

Peaceful contact proved elusive, but those encounters helped the agents stitch together a profile of a man with a calamitous past. In one jungle clearing they found the bulldozed ruins of several huts, each featuring the exact same kind of hole—14 in all—that the lone Indian customarily dug inside his dwellings. They concluded that it had been the site of his village, and that it had been destroyed by land-hungry settlers in early 1996.

Those kinds of clashes aren’t unheard of: Brazil’s 1988 Constitution gave Indians the legal right to the land they have traditionally occupied, which created a powerful incentive for settlers to chase uncontacted tribes off of any properties they might be eyeing for development. Just months before the agents began tracking the lone Indian, they made peaceful first contact with two other tribes that lived in the same region. One tribe, the Akuntsu, had been reduced to just six members. The rest of the tribe, explained the chief, had been killed during a raid by men with guns and chainsaws.

If you go to Rondônia today, none of the local landowners will claim any knowledge of these anecdotal massacres. But most aren’t afraid to loudly voice their disdain over the creation of reserves for such small tribes. They will say that it’s absurd to save 31 square miles of land for the benefit of just one man, when a productive ranch potentially could provide food for thousands.

That argument wilts under scrutiny, in part because thousands of square miles of already-cleared forest throughout the Amazon remain barren wastelands, undeveloped. The only economic model in which increased production absolutely depends on increased clearing is a strictly local one. The question of who’d benefit from clearing the land versus preserving it boils down to two people: the individual developer and the lone Indian. The government agents know this, which is why they view the protection of the lone tribesman as a question human rights, not economics.

He eats mostly wild game, which he either hunts with his bow-and-arrow or traps in spiked-bottom pitfalls. He grows a few crops around his huts, including corn and manioc, and often collects honey from hives that stingless bees construct in the hollows of tree trunks. Some of the markings he makes on trees have suggested to indigenous experts that he maintains a spiritual life, which they’ve speculated might help him survive the psychological toil of being, to a certain extent, the last man standing in a world of one.

Some Brazilians believe that the rapid spread of technology itself might protect his solitude, not threaten it. The agents who have worked on the lone Indian’s case since 1996 believe that the wider the story of the man’s isolation spreads—something that’s easier than ever now—the safer he’ll be from the sort of stealthy, anonymous raids by local land-grabbers that have decimated tribes in the past. Technologies like Google Earth and other mapping programs can assist in monitoring the boundaries of his territory. Instead of launching intrusive expeditions into the tribal territories to verify the Indians’ safety, Brazilian officials have announced they will experiment with heat-seeking sensors that can be attached to airplanes flying high enough to cause no disruption on the ground.

I first heard of the lone Indian a little more than five years ago, when I was the South America correspondent for the Washington Post and was interviewing a man who headed the federal department responsible for protecting isolated tribes in the Amazon. He mentioned the man as an aside, giving me a rundown of the latest attempt to force contact with him—the expedition that ended with an agent getting shot in the chest with an arrow.

(SLATE.COM  8.20.10)




a survey of the French master…


Jean-Léon Gérôme (1824–1904) was among the most officially honored and financially successful French artists of the second half of the 19th century. His brilliantly painted and often provocative pictures were at the center of heated debates over the present and future of the great French painting tradition. Reproduced using brand new photomechanical processes and dispersed across Europe and America, Gérôme’s images indelibly marked the popular imagination, directly influencing spectacular forms of mass entertainment, from theater to film.

Through most of the 20th century, however, Gérôme’s critical reputation was tarnished by his alleged commercialism and his stubborn opposition to the triumphant avant-garde movements of Impressionism and Postimpressionism. The first comprehensive exhibition of his work in almost 40 years, this exhibition offers the opportunity to reconsider the variety and complexity of Gérôme’s masterful oeuvre.

through 9.12.10 at the Getty




the art of the deal…


“A Tool to Deceive and Slaughter” by Caleb Larsen, 2009, is a black, acrylic box that places itself for sale on eBay every seven days thanks to an internet connection, which, according to the artist’s conditions of sale, must be live at all times. Disconnections are only allowed during transportation, says the creator.

Larsen tells “Inside the black box is a micro controller and an Ethernet adapter that contacts a script running on server ever 10 minutes. The server script checks to see if box currently has an active auction, and if it doesn’t, it creates a new auction for the work. The script is hosted on a server to allow for updates and upgrades if and when the eBay API (the interface used for 3rd party programs to talk to eBay) changes.”

The technology is designed specifically so that the buying and selling process could carry on ad infinitum, suggests Larsen, who adds that, if eBay “dries up and disappears, then another platform, either propriety or public, can be used for the selling.”

However, the process is also reliant on purchasers agreeing to stringent rules. There are, in fact, 18 terms listed on the eBay auction site, although Larsen is confident that buyers will comply because they could make money by doing so.

Here’s how it works. The purchaser can set a new value for the artwork, which must be based on “current market expectations” of Larsen’s work, and which could be considerably more than the price they paid. When A Tool to Deceive and Slaughter decides it wants to be sold again, bidders will start their battle at the value set by the current owner.

This is where the art collector could make money. However they must first pay any fees to eBay and give Larsen 15 percent of any increase in value of the artwork.

Speaking to from Tullum, Mexico, Larsen expressed his confidence that his black box will continue to rise in value. This is, after all, how he will make money, and is the premise of this project and that of some of his past works. These include the Donor Plaque, for which Larsen asked for donations to pay for an artwork and then made the list of these names his finished piece. But will the Tool to Deceive garner the same interest?

Larsen says that responses so far have been generally positive but it will be in six days and seven hours that the artist will see whether his impish bid to make money by combining technology, the internet and art has paid off.

(WIRED UK  1.22.10)


DETROIT: part 2…


more summer in the city by Jocko Weyland

photographs by JOCKO WEYLAND 2010

check out PART 1




located outside Tucson, AZ — the Davis-Monthan Air Force Base “Boneyardis a 2,600 acre resting place for about 4,000 out of rotation aircraft…

two views from Google Earth…

click on image to enlarge and check it out on GOOGLE...




“The artist’s role in society is to observe real life and report on it poetically.  If the movement of his materials is sure and honest, the work becomes a beautiful gesture.” — T.M.


For over forty years, Tom Marioni has been experimenting at the boundaries of art. His first art action—One Second Sculpture (1969) in which he released a coiled metal tape measure into the air and allowed it to fall to the ground—encapsulated Marioni’s desire to eradicate the distinctions between sculpture, music, drawing, and performance by embodying all of the genres at once. A key figure in the invention of Conceptual Art in the 1960s, Marioni’s identity as artist, writer, and curator also defies categorization. In 1970, he founded the Museum of Conceptual Art in San Francisco as a venue to support his own work and that of his friends and colleagues, and he has published his writings in various periodicals and books. Through the decades, Marioni has continued to, in his words, “observe real life and report on it poetically”, amassing a body of work comprised of drawings, prints, actions, and writings that articulate his desire to unite people and ideas. For his first one-person exhibition in Los Angeles, Tom Marioni will present his on-going artwork Drinking Beer with Friends is the Highest Form of Art. Along with the bar-like installation and the detritus of each of the four gatherings he will host as part of the piece, the exhibition will feature a selection of Marioni’s drawings. Organized by Hammer senior curator Anne Ellegood.

at the Hammer Museum 8.28 – 10.3.10…




pure cinema and the realities of war…


“Lebanon”, written and directed by Samuel Maoz, is not just the year’s most impressive first feature but also the strongest new movie of any kind I’ve seen in 2010. Actually, Lebanon — which won the Golden Lion at Venice, after being rejected by Berlin and Cannes — hardly seems like a debut, perhaps because it’s based on a scenario Maoz had been replaying in his head for nearly 30 years.

It’s evident that the 1982 invasion of Lebanon, Israel’s fifth and least-defensible war, has had a remarkable re-emergence in the nation’s film industry. Like Ari Folman’s groundbreaking animated Waltz With Bashir before it, Lebanon is a film by a traumatized veteran. But where Waltz With Bashir is mainly concerned with the recollection of that trauma, Lebanon is predicated on restaging the traumatic event. Set, over the course of a 24-hour period, entirely inside an Israeli tank heading north on the war’s first day, Maoz’s cine memoir is at once political allegory and existential combat movie — Sartre’s No Exit as directed by Sam Fuller.

Blunt, clamorous and harrowing, Lebanon is also a formalist tour de force. As the Israeli soldiers never leave their tank, code-named Rhino, the movie is necessarily shot mainly in close-up and, except for the end, all exteriors are scanned through the crosshairs of the tank’s bombsight. The outside world is heard through the tank’s steel plating or via crackling radio transmissions from distant headquarters. Individuals — a Syrian captive, a dying Israeli soldier and, most often, the battle-hardened platoon leader, Jamil — are intermittently lowered into, or lower themselves into, this moving dungeon. But for the four men inside, there is no escape.

the article continues

(LA WEEKLY  8.12.10)

“LEBANON” 2009 directed by Samuel Maoz

through 8.19 at the Nuart Theatre




Djedi was a magician who helped design the Great Pyramid — now robots are being sent to uncork his secrets…



For 4,500 years, the Great Pyramid at Giza has enthralled, fascinated and ultimately frustrated everyone who has attempted to penetrate its secrets.

Now a robotics team from Leeds University, working with Egypt’s Supreme Council of Antiquities, is preparing a machine which they hope will solve one of its enduring mysteries.

The pyramid, known as the Pyramid of Khufu after the king who built it around 2,560BC, is the only wonder of the ancient world still standing. At its heart are two rooms known as the King’s Chamber and the Queen’s Chamber. Two shafts rise from the King’s Chamber at 45-degree angles and lead to the exterior of the monument. They are believed to be a passageway designed to fire the king’s spirit into the firmament so that he can take his place among the stars.

In the Queen’s Chamber, there are two further shafts, discovered in 1872. Unlike those in the King’s Chamber, these do not lead to the outer face of the pyramid

No one knows what the shafts are for. In 1992, a camera sent up the shaft leading from the south wall of the Queen’s Chamber discovered it was blocked after 60 metres by a limestone door with two copper handles. In 2002, a further expedition drilled through this door and revealed, 20 centimetres behind it, a second door.

“The second door is unlike the first. It looks as if it is screening or covering something,” said Dr Zahi Hawass, the head of the Supreme Council who is in charge of the expedition. The north shaft bends by 45 degrees after 18 metres but, after 60 metres, is also blocked by a limestone door.

Now technicians at Leeds University are putting the finishing touches to a robot which, they hope, will follow the shaft to its end. Known as the Djedi project, after the magician whom Khufu consulted when planning the pyramid, the robot will be able to drill through the second set of doors to see what lies beyond.

Dr. Robert Richardson, of the Leeds University School of Mechanical Engineering, said they would continue the expedition until they reach the end of the shafts.

“We have been working on the project for five years,” he said. “We have no preconceptions. We are trying to gain evidence for other people to draw conclusions. There are two shafts. The north shaft is blocked by a limestone door and nothing has penetrated that door. With the south shaft a previous team has measured the thickness of the stone, drilled through it and put a camera through it and found there was another surface. We are going to determine how thick that is and we could drill through it. We are preparing the robot now and expect to send it up before the end of the year. It’s a big question, and it’s very important not to cause unnecessary damage. We will carry on until we find the answer. We hope to get all the data possible which will be sufficient to answer the questions.”





lots of familiar faces in this lost classic…


Over dinner one night in the good ol’ days, Exene Cervenka, writer/singer for the celebrated Los Angeles band X, and independent filmmaker Modi Frank brainstormed a shoot-‘em-up starring their talented and twisted circle of friends, of which every member was headed for a full-size future in music, movies, and more.

This was the mid-80s: a time when there were no prepackaged labels like “alternative” or “indie.” There was only punk rock, and you either were or you weren’t. For a very short time, punk music and its fans symbolized anything and everything that wasn’t buttoned down, bar-coded, or flag-waving. There were still some strings attached to our modern “do it yourself” attitude for women, though, so when two music scene chicks wrote, cast, produced, directed, and shot their own film, our being impressed didn’t come off as patronizing.

Exene and Modi wrote Bad Day together as a salute to the roots-rock and cow-punk scenes that were flourishing in Southern California at the time, and also because they were surrounded by artists and musicians who were eager to work together. They wrote the script to capture a moment, to protect an important picture with a frame.

“Exene was always running around back then with her Super 8 cameras, shooting X’s tour footage and more. She was a natural cinematographer: perfect to shoot our film,” remembers Modi, who served as the film’s director. As co-producers, Modi and Exene cobbled together a crew, costumes, funds where possible, and of course, the players.

Casting began with the role of “Tripped-out Cowboy Priest” being filled by X front man John Doe, inaugurating his enduring push into professional acting. Joining Doe is prominent Los Angeles writer-poet Doug Knott, as well as Chris Desjardins, author, producer, and creator of those L.A. punk pioneers, The Flesheaters. Also coming aboard was Chris D.’s then-wife, folk-jazz singer/songwriter Julie Christensen.

Grammy Award winning American roots-rock scholar and former Blasters lead guitarist Dave Alvin narrates the story and plays the film’s wandering, dusty troubadour. Fittingly, Bad Day’s acoustic soundtrack comes courtesy of Dave Alvin and X’s D.J. Bonebrake and is infused with their love of all things California.

The role of “Little Mae” is played by Jenny Aust, daughter of rock critic Chris Morris, whereas “Town Sheriff” features author Michael Blake, who a few years after the making of Bad Day would be best known for his Academy Award-winning adaptation of his novel, Dances with Wolves. Blake’s buddy, Academy Award-winning director and actor Kevin Costner also signed on as a loveable guy whose sudden inheritance turns him into the nevertheless-still-charming town drunk.

The late and dearly missed Peter Haskell, an artist-photographer whom Bedlam Magazine described as a “generous, talented, larger-than-life guy who led a determinedly bohemian lifestyle,” approached his own role (as the villain) the only way he knew how – with passionate dedication to Modi & Exene’s vision of the story’s notorious gunslinger, Johnny R Walker.

Shot in 1986 at a secret location near Chatsworth, California, the short film features an inspired cast of irregulars playing the residents of a small town on a bad day. Call it what you will: a cow-punk time capsule, a mock-Western, a guerrilla film forerunner – or just plain proof of a time when everyone didn’t take themselves so seriously.

“Everyone came through, it’s a great cast,” observes Exene today. “I’m glad we captured our friends on film.  We all just jumped off the cliff, artistically. We were fearless. While the torrential rain and mud helped make the story, it was crazy to shoot through such heavy weather.  Modi and I had so much fun writing and making Bad Day.  It was one of the best times I ever had.”

Photographed on black and white film by Exene Cervenka, directed by Modi Frank, and written by Modi and Exene in 1986, Bad Day is a wayward tribute to the early silent film days of one-reel Westerns. It’s a short film that throws a saddle over the back of mid-80s punk, yanks the reins of shoot ‘em up satire, and smacks this horse’s ass with the anything-goes spirit of its two gifted creators. Not bad for a film only rumored to exist until now.


“BAD DAY” 1986 directed by Modi Frank

watch it online — partial proceeds go to victims of the Gulf disaster…




from public access to all access in a GalleryBeat


It sounds like a highbrow fairy tale: an unsuccessful artist turned cable TV host snags an interview with one of the world’s most reclusive and glamorous art stars, Cindy Sherman — and the two fall in love. This is what actually happened to Paul Hasegawa-Overacker, aka Paul H-O, who uses it as the premise for the documentary he co-directed, “Guest of Cindy Sherman.” But to cling too tightly to that romantic story line is to seriously misrepresent this movie.In fact, “Guest of Cindy Sherman,” which was co-directed by Tom Donahue, feels more like three or four docs fused into one entertaining (and sometimes squirm-inducing) concoction. We get a sidelong view of the art world and its symbiotic relationship with commerce and celebrity, as well as an exploration of the awkward life of a famous person’s “plus one.”

At the center of it all is Sherman, in a fragmented portrait of a woman H-O calls “the most famous mystery girl of art,” a photographer who has used her own image as the basis for a hugely influential body of work. All this is strung together with H-O’s confessional voice-overs, which present him as a goofy dude who has stumbled into the force field of a radiant, powerful woman and found himself devastated by his own lack of stature and lost sense of self. “I’d sort of been swallowed up,” he complains. For five years he tags along as Sherman attends galas, hobnobs with celebs and collectors and jet-sets around the globe, spending his days as “the person hardly anyone wants to talk to.” The final blow, at least as he represents it, may just be when H-O brings Sherman to see his therapist in an attempt to save their five-year relationship, and the therapist chooses to take her on as a client, jettisoning him. “Even my shrink would rather be with Cindy!” They eventually break up, though he carefully avoids showing any of the actual drama on-screen.

“Guest of Cindy Sherman” arrived at Tribeca wreathed in controversy: Sherman has officially disassociated herself from the doc, even going so far as to apologize to friends who are interviewed in the film for involving them. However, Sherman herself comes off surprisingly well — whether working in her studio (where we watch her experiment with an endless permutation of outfits and makeup until she finds the perfect amalgam) or chatting with her sister. H-O says that Sherman got something close to final cut (at least as far as her own appearances are concerned). But for an artist whose work revolves around manipulating her own image, and yet who has very deliberately shielded herself from the publicity machine, it must feel like very unwelcome exposure — by an ex-boyfriend, no less.

the article continues with an interview of Paul H-O

(SALON.COM  5.2.08)

“GUEST OF CINDY SHERMAN” 2008 directed by Paul Hasegawa-Overacker and Tom Donahue

now available on DVD — for more info go to the “Guest Of Cindy Sherman” website




the Praiano house


Although Sol LeWitt never learned to speak Italian because of poor hearing, he could read it and write it. According to his widow, Carol, he studied the conjugation of verbs intensely to avoid using an improper formulation. His ties to Italy could not have been stronger. His first Italian journey was to Naples, in 1950, and, beginning in the early ’70s, he traveled the country extensively, familiarizing himself with its historic art and architecture, and meeting artists, collectors and owners of galleries showing contemporary art. His wall drawings are a continuation of the venerable Italian wall-painting tradition.

A particular blend of his sensibility and the Italian context can be found just over 40 miles south of Naples, along the rugged Amalfi coast, in the small town of Praiano, a near-pueblo of startlingly white dwellings overlooking the Tyrrhenian Sea. The one that belongs to Carol LeWitt dates from the 1600s, when it was a farmhouse on a vast tract of land. Over the centuries, the house sheltered animals in its lower level and human inhabitants above.

Sol died at New York Presbyterian Hospital on Apr. 8, 2007, a day after the drawings were finished. Plans call for the house in Praiano to be turned over to the LeWitt Foundation, which will provide for public access.

(ART IN AMERICA  2.1.09)

find the entire article here




coming this month — very exciting…

for more information see the VBMF website




a puzzling combination of aluminum, brass, bronze, magnesium, steel and gunpowder…


This design is by far my most complex metal sculpture and it’s both mentally and physically intimidating, thus the name. This design expands the limits of what is considered possible for a puzzle.


In June 2009, starting with a few extra parts from my Labyrinth sculpture, I began working night and day creating this sculpture. It grew to eight inches tall, four inches deep and five inches wide; there’s a lot of volume to fill with interlocking parts and assembly of this puzzle is extremely difficult; you’ll need a lot of time on your hands. Physically, it tips the scale at over 40 pounds. It breaks down into over 125 separate pieces. In addition to my standard notched pieces, I used cap screws, springs, threaded parts, cylinders, hex bits and numerous circular borings to obtain the locking fit for two different assembly procedures.


As a young man, I was impressed by the unusual gun used by Scaramanga in the 1974 Bond thriller “The Man with the Golden Gun”. Recently, I thought I’d like to design my own. The INTIMIDATOR Puzzle Pistol was originally planned to be a conventional 25 Caliber pistol but as my ideas morphed, it became a muzzle loading and more intimidating 45 caliber. The sculpture includes everything required for assembly of the puzzle pistol. Integrated into the sculpture are a customized set of tools, all necessary hardware, 45 caliber bullets, a standard sight, a laser sight, a cannister containing black powder pellets, a secure storage area for 209 shotgun primers, a spent primer removal tool and a ramrod for loading the bullets.

and it becomes…

(MAXTON.COM  6.10)


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