As a follow up to last week’s post on the Whole Earth Campaign it seems that at this rather crucial juncture in the relationship between ourselves and our planet, we are again being encouraged to observe, contemplate and allow ourselves to be overcome by the profound image of the Earth from outer space.

The Skull Skates Logo by Peter Ducommun.
Peter Ducommun (PD) writes:
the skull portion of the logo was originally cut from grip tape with an exacto knife which gave the design a jagged look …the black and white shadowed skull mimics the yin yang symbol which was actually our companies’ original mark al a town and country surf designs… the connected letters symbolize the flow of skating… the broken strokes of the “E” are a take off on the ancient I ching tri-gram meaning the creative…the skull was chosen for the universal …

“It was one month after the Trips Festival at Longshoreman’s Hall when the “whole earth” in The Whole Earth Catalog came to me with the help of one hundred micrograms of lysergic acid diethylamide. I was sitting on a gravelly roof in San Francisco’s North Beach. It was February 1966. Ken Kesey and the Merry Pranksters were waning toward Mexico. I was twenty-eight…
“…The buildings were not parallel—because the earth curved under them, and me, and all of us; it closed on itself. I remembered …

The Donald discusses Citizen Kane over at the extremely engrossing site of the great Errol Morris.

(Pictured above: Robbie Robertson, Michael McClure, Bob Dylan & Alan Ginsberg) Regardless of whether the Sixties revolution changed the world, the dirt and the details have long since blurred into myth, once again allowing the ideals of the time to appear untarnished (though perhaps a little too naive), and its characters to rise to the realm of legend. No where is this more evidant than in the work of the era’s great cultural photographers: Jim Marshall (above), Gene Anthony, Baron Wolman and others are featured over at Wolfgang’s Vault.

The Public Enemy logo by Carlton Douglas Ridenhour, aka Chuck D.

There’s nothing quite like starting off the new year with a little post-apocalyptic anarchy care of Brian Wood‘s beautifully rendered graphic series DMZ, in which the U.S. has plunged back into civil war, and Manhattan serves as the figurative “line in the sand”. The first issue can be downloaded for free from Vertigo.
More of his work, including links to other comics can be found on his website, brianwood.com.