Wednesday, December 29, 2010

FOREVER





   For a while now ive been trying to understand rap music. It seems to me to consist of a serious of ideologies and themes all of which are a direct consequence of the cultural revolution of the 1960s and the subsequent emergence of postmodernism. Well, actually it consists of more than that but these aspects interest me most. Three of these seem to me to be: The problems of masculinity. The problems of the "real". And the problem of the self in a dehumanizing society (system). First lets start with the first one.

   Ok so our contemporary notion of masculinity has gone through the same sorts of changes that every social and cultural value has gone through in liberal first world societies. The notions that once defined masculinity have been inverted and disconnected from their objects. Once masculinity was identified as an aspect of manhood. Literally if you had reached puberty and had a penis you where expected to behave in a masculine way. Simultaneously if you had reached puberty and had a vagina you where expected to act feminine. As well if you where black you where meant to act black and if white to act white and so on. However after the cultural revolution of the late 1960s and 70s this paradigm changed. Suddenly (and it was sudden) White men where meant to integrate with black men. Women to integrate with men, and so on. Previously held symbol/object relationships where broken down (here we see postmodernism). Masculinity (symbol) was no longer necessarily a product of having a penis (object). Suddenly women could be masculine. Men could be feminine. Blacks had the same rights as whites and so on. All of the old symbol/object values where rearranged and left in a new order. This, in a way, dethroned white male masculinity and "equalized" its symbolic values. Note here that postmodernism was not a way of literally turning black into white or women into men, it simply changed the symbol/value relationship in society at large. In the same way that the white man was dethroned the black man was dethroned as well. No longer was it the place of black men to be subservient and out of sight. Now he was expected to integrate with white society. Understand that this is just as difficult for the white cultural power structure as it is for black cultural power structures at the time. Martin luther king was rebelling against white and black power structures. Reconciliation between peoples who had been enemies (in a way) for so long is not something that happens easily.

   Anyway so equality and the cultural revolution realigned but did not define these new social/cultural values. So though women could now be masculine they could never in reality be men. The avenue of the symbolic meaning was open yet the "real" was still closed. White cannot become black or black white simply through force of will alone (michael jackson not withstanding). This subversion of symbol relationships and the denaturing of the object values is still carrying on today. We see this in rap music. It is my contention that rap musics popularity is in part because of an attempt to reclaim the place of male masculinity. That is to say a masculinity that excludes women. I think this is borne out by the popularity of rap music with suburban middle class white male kids. Ostensibly they shouldnt be able to relate to this music at all. They didnt grow up poor, or black, they dont have any "street cred" but this, all this thug super hero stuff, is just surface ornament. The underlying message is a reclaiming of the connection of masculinity with men. After all, who has felt more severely the imposition of the cultural revolution if not the male children of the white middle class and young impoverished black men? Rappers (in nearly every song) address these issues. What is "real"? What is a man? What is masculinity? They attempt to reconcile the inherit structural conflicts between the utopian notion of equality and the undeniable reality of an unequal "real" world.

   Its strange to me to think how all of todays popular rappers, from snoop to puff dady to jay-z or whoever, made the millions they brag about mainly off middle class white kids buying their records. In a strange way its as if rappers have formulated the perfect fantasy land for middle class white kids to live in. A magical world (truely) A world in which the old symbol/object relationships still exist. Men are men, women are bitches. You keep it "real" on the street. Money is actually money, connected to actual work. A world in which symbols and objects have actual connections. A reality with actual consequences. A "real" world, that is to say, a postmodern fantasy. I think rappers acknowledge this fantasy aspect. They even refer to rapping as "the game". Moreover anyone who has actually had to spend any time around junkies, anyone who has ever actually stepped foot in, or god forbid, lived, in a ghetto knows its horrible shit. Its not cool, thug life, hard knock life, even most "gangster" rappers acknowledge they dont like it. In the words of jay-z:

"I don’t be in the project hallway, talkin’ bout how I be in the project all day. That sounds stupid to me" 

This also reminds me of a line by zizek:

"Is not the ultimate figure of the passion for the Real the option we get on hardcore (porn) websites to observe the inside of a vagina from the vantage point of a tiny camera at the top of the penetrating dildo? At this extreme point, a shift occurs: when we get too close to the desired object, erotic fascination turns into disgust at the Real of the bare flesh."

   Nobody really wants to be poor or shot at or harassed by police or get beat down for being on the wrong block. Never the less this high stakes fantasy is infinitely intriguing, particularly if you have never actually lived it. It is this supposition of "real" life that is so intriguing. One of the many effects of the disassociation of symbol/object values during postmodernism has been a denaturing of the reality of objects and a consequent, endless, search for the real. Again the language bares witness to this. "keeping it real" "real nigga talk" and so on. What need would there even be to keep it real if the world wasnt fake? Full of subverted values, meaningless objects, irrelevant narratives and so on.

   It is then a strange thing that we have going on in rap music. The same postmodern changes that enabled (socially) the appreciation and "integration" of rap music by white americans where the same change that made rap music possible. It also however, caused many of the problems rap music attempts to deal with. The denaturing of masculinity, the denaturing of the "real" and the place of black americans in american society and culture at large. Its interesting that rap music is hugely popular beyond the shores of america and this seems to be rarely mentioned in rap music. This is not just an aesthetic and ideological struggle for suburban white kids and impoverished black kids from america. It is as well a music for marginalized people around the world. Whether because of economic or racial or ideological circumstance. As it is not just in america that we feel the effects of postmodernism but in fact in every liberal democratic nation in the world.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

MORE NOTES ON BLACK SWAN

When is it my turn to be the swan queen?












Ok so Ive seen black swan about four times now. I was going to write a big essay thing about it but now im just kind of getting bored of it. Its sad how things lose their magic with repeat viewing. Its like porn, or looking at your new haircut in the mirror. Anyway, I still havnt actually read any reviews for the movie, that might clear some stuff up. Im just going to post the notes I wrote so I can "put this baby to bed":

- I dont get, it natalie is playing the white swan and the black swan but the blacks swan steals the prince from the white swan then the white swan kills herself. So natalie steals the prince from herself and kills herself because she has had the prince stolen? That doesnt make any sense. This is just the story of a psychotic ballerina girl who kills herself I dont accept the metaphoric pretext of this story

- So natalitie thinks she is and or wants to be wynona ryder but once she (thinks) she realizes what kind of relationship vincent wants to have with her she runs back and returns wynonas things. Rejecting the persona she was taking on because she realizes how hard it is to be at the 'top" like wynona was and have everyone "after" for her. Or something like that.

- Several scenes seem a little out of place. the scene with the doctor poking her in the chest and then another where she is being taught to do that flapping things with her arms. They feel like scenes from a documentary or some kind of behind the scenes making of the movie. The more I think about this the more it irritates me.

- Variously throughout the film vincent tells natalie to "let go" and he "wants passion". Perfection and the stifling of passion is then natalies passion it seems to me. Also I think this is a sophomoric statement, as if you just magically "let go" and everything becomes perfect. After all nothing comes of bloodless toil.

- Im sure aronofsky is trying to say something with the connection between winona ryder and natalie portman, but, forgive me for this caprice but, I dont really care. It just doesnt seem compelling. For instance im sure there is some connection symbolically with the things of wynonas that she steasl but, well I dont really want to worry about it. Tt seems like such an accessory to the film. Gory face stabbing not withstanding. I really think wynonas character must of been left over from some earlier draft or something and then just stayed on in the film so they could throw in the face stabbing thing.

- I really think that in this film, there is no black swan. The black swan is just a notion. It doesnt stand to scrutiny or reason, even the notion of it is enigmatic in the film. This is why we see so many contradictory depictions of the swan as alternately evil or seductive or powerful or liberating etc.etc.

- Mila kunis was never really going to be the black swan. It was a farce all along. A fear of natalies. The stick in this carrot and stick paradigm

- I love how this movie is completely fucking psycho from the very beginning

- Natalie stealing wynonas make up? Total psycho move.

- Why is it that darren aronophsky always does these little "technical" montage sort of scenes. Like the ballet dancers putting their shoes on and so on? It looks cool, dont get me wrong, its just so blatantly ornamental. Its like he is trying to sell me ballet shoes or something. It strikes me also as the type of thing you see in a documentary

- In the film natalie sees her face in the face of others numerous times. Often as the black swan but sometimes as in the opening in the face of an anonymous women.  Even receiving a phone call just as she does. Is she watching herself as someone else? I dont understand this. This effect in the film doesnt really seem consistent to me.

- The doppelganger, the black swan(?), her own alternate self (alternate reality?). Who is the black swan? Who is the doppelganger? "She is!" The movie implies again and again, but this answer does not satisfy me. It strikes me that natalie is constantly horrified of this other self and yet it does nothing and seems to be capable of doing nothing to her physically and yet she is viscerally terrified. Contrast this with the way she harms herself again and again throughout the film. She is, physically, much more of a harm and terror to herself than any doppelganger. This has a strange way of abstracting the horror. Making it intangible. Imagine the scene in which wynona stabs her own face with the nail file. What, if we imagine, would be the most horrible thing someone could do with a nail file? Stab you someplace in the face or genitals right? And yet this kind of violent physical attack is in a way, too primal, almost empowering in its physicality. The enemy I can come to grips with physically is the enemy I have a fighting chance against. If on the other hand we think how it transpires in the film. Wynona stabes not natalies face but her own and in doing so natalie is incapable of doing anything to stop the horror. It overflows in a cacophany. Removing all power she might have. She is frozen in horror. Incapable. Incapacitated. Outside herself in the horror she is witnessing. The layers compound then. As the horror of this stabbing transpires not out side of her but in fact in her mind. In her mind she assults wynona and yet she is still incapable of confrontation with this monster (herself). She is stabbing wynona in the face not to destroy wynonas face but to destroy the wynona inside herself?

- The mother is really the only tangible horror in the film. Vincents character is just a mild manned pervert by comparison.

- Why does she steal winonas things? To take on her aura? This seems like an over simplification

- Aso id like to say natalie looks great with that super dark lipstick ("all dolled up"). I guess im a sucker for that "not a whore pretending to be a whore" look. (go figure)

- Natalie is just this empty husk of a person the entire film. At first this struck me as an inadequacy. No real character progression. Then though, after thinking about it, I realized there was progression, and more importantly, a more real, unstereotyped, inevitable progression. She is completely psycho from the very beginning and just gets deeper and deeper into herself as the film goes on. The white swan is the complete lunatic and mila kunis, a completely normal girl who goes out and drinks and meets guys on a friday night is, for natalie, the complete seductive whore. Only for someone completely subsumed in there own emotional fantasy land could this be the case. Every other scene is natalie misunderstanding a look or phrase and assuming it is some attack or intrigue. There is (almost) nothing "in" her but self critical insecurity and paranoia.


- When she is masturbating in the bathtub and her fingers come up bloody is that her breaking her hymen? Or just more of her imagining blood?

- I mean seriously I dont really know if this is good acting or just natalie being natalie but her face does everything perfect in this movie. the eyebrows, the voice, THE VOICE. The ways she cracks at the beginning of sentances. Perfect. Too perfect. Because its really her, isnt it?

- Also that fucking scene where the eyes on the painting move. Fucking christ, more creepy than the winkies guy, for me anyway.

- The black swan is the "evil" twin but who is really seduced here? Nobody is seduced by the black swan. Nobody seduces anyone in the entire film save for mila seducing natalie (in her fantasy). Also I guess the white swan seduced natalie from the very beginning.

- Also there are mirrors in like every fucking scene. Not just one or in one plane of vision even but mirrors looking into mirror, mirrors reflecting nothing. All over the place. Like literally almost every other scene. Id count them but I dont care to know that much.


Anyway so, now I have to watch perfect blue again. I loved it to death when I first saw it. Thinking about it makes me remember how I saw it like ten years ago or something. And that just makes me sick.

Monday, December 20, 2010

NOTES ON BLACK SWAN

Turns out, im the black swan!


Ok so, I just got done watching "BLACK SWAN" I cant actually be arsed to make a real review because it is one in the morning so ill just reduce it to bullet points. Spoilers incoming(?):

-Who would of guessed swan lake was really the story of a young psychotic ballerina girl who cant get laid and so, learns how to masturbate.

- David lynch, nuff said.

- I dont really like mila kunis.

- Goddamnit meg!

- I dont really like natalie portman(???)

- That dude who plays the ballet instructor was in this movie called "The messenger" about joan of ark. Ive seen that movie a million times and couldnt get it out of my head. Thanks TCM!

- This movie had far too many women in it, no homo.

- Im not going to be able to cut my fingernails for like a month, thanks a lot darren aronofsky.

- I like wynona ryder.

- I dont like the music from swan lake. Im just going to go ahead and say I categorically do not like "ballet" music (take that nineteenth century!)

- The set dressing seemed kind of forced. Everything was black and white. Yeah I get it, white swan/black swan. Its in the title of the film, you dont need to beat me over the head with it.

- She was the black swan all along. The white swan was what she could not become. Eventually she casts off the false identity via suicide and, hey presto, black swan.

- Too many bitches, not enough ballets.

- Too much drama, not enough absurdity. No im not going to qualify that.

- Anorexia is pretty gross

- I guess it was a pretty alright movie.

- Jump cuts should be banned.

- What happened to wynona ryder? She never does anything anymore.

- It just feels like, natalie portman was a really great child actor but never matured. Its like she is on autopilot. 

- I just cant look at her without thinking "I am looking at natalie portman" maybe thats my fault.

- I mean like, contrast her with naomi watts in mulholland drive.

- Natalie portman plays natalie portman in a movie about natalie portman starring natalie portman. Alright ill quit.

- I love ballet.

- Anorexia can be pretty hot.

- Seriously, the fucking fingernail shit. Worse than /b/. 

- I just cant quantify it but I didnt really love this movie. It hits all the right notes but just falls flat and that is funny because that, in part, is what the movie was about. In fact id make that same statement about every darren aronofsky movie ever and every natalie portman ever.

- Natalie Portman, there I said it.

- Expressionism is strangely underused in popular films. It seems to me a perfect fit for the medium.

- If there is one genre of film that I think most accurately depicts reality, it would be, black comedy, or psychological horror.

- So many girls in the theater I saw it in. Did they think this was going to be a girl movie? Is this a girl movie? Is there a market for psychological horror films directed at women no one has yet tapped into?

- Tina fey? What are you doing here? Why yes have a seat!

- Wait, this is the aesthetic isnt it? This is the teen girl angst thing. You are right, totally a teen girl angst flick.

- Total boner killer with mom in the bedroom while you masturbate.

- In fact this entire film was a boner killer. Getting this much sex and this much nervousness all in one go is just, well, difficult.

- I guess this was a girl movie after all.

- Perfect blue, see it.

- I sometimes scratch myself in my sleep and wake up with strange cuts. I know! Gross, huh!

- No! Im the black swan!

- P.S. natalie portman, please dont kill yourself.

- FIN

Friday, December 17, 2010

IM LISTINING TO LADY IN RED RIGHT NOW, GET IT?


Dont you love being on hold? There is nothing quite like sitting there for twenty minuets listening to light rock through your underwater telephone. I can even blog while I do it. I was thinking, while I sit here: if the institution of marriage did not exist would it be necessary to invent it?

Sunday, December 12, 2010

NO ONE MAN SHOULD HAVE ALL THIS POWER



I know everyone and their goddamn mother has been mouthing off about julian assange and wikileaks and so on but this is a blog so, well, you know, every day is repost day!

Its been completely fascinating to watch this thing in action. The flailing desperation with which the governments of the world have responded with has been at times hilarious and frightening. The fact that this whole thing went completely non-sequiter immediately after the story broke seem to have escaped notice by the media. I dont need to retell the story here but lets remember, at least for a moment. A private in the US army leaks a shit ton of documents to some website hosted by some angry austrailian, i.e. julian assange. In response the US government, in part with support but  also through coercion from foreign governments, does everything it can to coerce several US based companies to do everything they can to harass and attack assanges website on which theses documents where leaked. Now, I really cannot fathom this. First off, shutting down donations to wikileaks does nothing to mitigate any documents that may of been leaked and may be leaked in the future. Wikileaks is a name alone. Julian assange is a messenger. This army private could of leaked the documents dozens of ways, he could of torrented them, set up his own blog, mailed them out to newspapers around the world, sold them to the iranians, dozens of ways. But he, in his infinite wisdom, passes them to assange. Where is the outrage about this? Assange is vilified and accused of terrorism and whatever else but all he did was host the documents. The private in question "stole" them (dont even get me started on this semantic game of "stolen"). And the private is subject to whatever kind of justice the military meets out. Is he a terrorist? Is he seeking the destruction of the US government? Is he staging a kind of protest? It is rumored he is gay and this is some kind of payback for "dont ask dont tell". Why isnt sarah palin dragging his name through the mud? Why isnt he the center of our media scrutiny? Assange is quite specifically not important to the story, he is only the medium.

I am struck by the incredible fear the governments of the world have shown in reaction to assange. It is not the leaks they fear in this case. They where, by all admissions, more or less harmless. And it is not the insecurity of state secrets. Ive heard nothing about any kind of reforms within the military to stop this sort of thing from happening. It is at assange solely that they fire back. They seems enraged not at any actual consequence of the leaks but at the existential threat that this kind of free proliferation of information poses. It occurs to me that this kind of threat was the same kind that saddam hussain and iraq posed before our second war there. It was not so much any physical threat but the existential threat that drove us to war. The notion that no one man should have all that power. The power to laugh in the face of the most powerful nations of the world and air their (occasionally hilarious) dirty laundry. Seriously though, these leaks are inconsequential jokes compared to the pentagon papers of the vietnam era. The pentagon papers where a substantive intelligent critique of US foreign policy and the war effort. These wiki leaks are just masterclass trolling by comparison. And yet such as in all good comedy, the kernel of truth at the heart of the joke cuts deeper than any other measured and reasoned critique. The problem for the ruling aristocracy is not that these leaks (and information of this type) will destabilize or destroy a government but ever worse, that they bear witness to the falsity of the dominant ideologies and images these ruling powers promote. Moammar kadafi isnt a james bond villain, he is just some twat etc etc. Spy on your fellow citizens in the wal-mart parking lot but in the name of all that is good and holy dont scrutinize us. Foreign policy is not a reasoned game of titanic seriousness and importance, but instead, it is revealed to be just old ladies gossiping in the hair salon. We tuned in expecting charlie rose and got TMZ.

After these leaks we had the counter attack. Presumably political pressure was put on amazon to drop wiki leaks from servers they owned. Pay pal blocked donations to the site. Visa blocked credit card charges going to the site. This might be understandable (almost) if doing these things actually forwarded national security or stopped these "secret" documents from being leaked but even this transparent ploy is shown to be just that. Blocking wikileaks donations wont do shit. The internet is forever. There is a law of diminishing returns at work on the internet. The harder you try to clamp down on the free communication of information, the less return you get on your investment. Assange has not even been charged with anything, because he has done nothing illegal.

After these blocks and political coercions then came of course, anonymous. Full admission on my part, ive done quite a bit of internet. I saw the threads about operation payback and just ignored them. Raids have become so common I dont even care about them. I figured if they really pulled off ddosing VISA id hear about it on the news and if not I didnt really care. So low and behold a day or two later katie couric is going off about "INTERNET ANARCHIST HACKTIVISTS ARE ATTACKING VISA AND PAYPAL!". "Well fuck the little faggots pulled it off" I thought. The ensuing cacophony of inane obfuscation however really fucking blew me away. Some how it came out that assange was "trying to destroy the US government" (or some such) and "anonymous" ddosing VISA was somehow the same "thing". The paranoid shitstorm fallout from this literally is making me sick, hold up, pull the car over

ahem.

So then the last few days ive seen every idiot talking head on the news spouting off about how internet anarchists are laying just beyond the margin ready to attack. As they said in Batman: The Dark Night "some people just want to watch the world burn". More like waiting at the margin ready to subject you to invasive TSA screening procedures . . . anyway. Never mind the fact that these people obviously dont have any clue what they are talking about, this is always my assumption anyway. But at this point they are missing an absolutely critical point. This is not hacktivism. Its activism. These are not attacks. These are protests. This is about freedom of speech and the notion of net neutrality, not bringing down the government or anarchism or some other masturbatory fantasy they have while they sit in their ivory towers. Incidentally, isnt it always funny how the people at the top of the food chain fantasize about falling to the bottom while the people at the bottom fantasize about climbing to the top? Calling this "anarchism" or whatever other nonsense enables them to simply deny that the ideologies of the people making these protests might have some validity. They deny that any ideology exists at all to this behavior. If they actually questioned why someone might be protesting the government violating notions of free speech, if they had any notion of what net neutrality is and, by extension, if they had any idea what the internet was, they would be required to engage in the kind of introspective self criticism which would obviate the need for the protest in the first place.

Moreover, no consideration is given to assange and why he may or may not of leaked what he did. No consideration is given to the army private and why he may or may not of "stole" these documents. No consideration is given to the (apparently) incredible insecurity of US military secrets.  Instead the interest is with defacing the ideology of those who are opposed to your own ideology. Julian assange "hates america" and this alone is enough deny him the freedoms that would be protected for any news paper or media outlet in the US.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

FROM THE VAULT



"At one point I had a wine cellar.

Well, to be fair it was a wine basement.

OK... a small, otherwise disused wine closet in a basement... but I digress...

Five times every two months I would go down to it and turn the bottles, having no more response from the cheaper ones than the cold glass against my skin. On the more expensive ones I remember watching the grape silt upended in the bottle like a viticultural snow globe. It was beautiful. I'd have done it even if I never planned to taste the wine.
"

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

I REALLY DO LOVE SPAGHETTI THOUGH




This is really probably my favorite short story of all time. Its by Haruki Murakami, its retold (sort of) in his book "the wind up bird chronicles". Though frankly I like this version better.


To wit:



Nineteen-seventy-one was the Year of Spaghetti.

In 1971, I cooked spaghetti to live, and lived to cook spaghetti. Steam rising from the pot was my pride and joy, tomato sauce bubbling up in the saucepan my one great hope in life.

I went to a cooking specialty store and bought a kitchen timer and a huge aluminum pot, big enough to bathe a German shepherd in, then went around to all the supermarkets that catered to foreigners, gathering an assortment of odd-sounding spices. I picked up a pasta cookbook at the bookstore, and bought tomatoes by the dozen. I purchased every brand of spaghetti I could lay my hands on, simmered every sauce known to man. Fine particles of garlic, onion, and olive oil swirled in the air, forming a harmonious cloud that penetrated every corner of my tiny apartment, permeating the floor and the ceiling and the walls, my clothes, my books, my records, my tennis racquet, my bundles of old letters. It was a fragrance one might have smelled on ancient Roman aqueducts.

This is a story from the Year of Spaghetti, 1971 A.D.

As a rule, I cooked spaghetti, and ate it, by myself. I was convinced that spaghetti was a dish best enjoyed alone. I can't really explain why I felt that way, but there it is.

I always drank tea with my spaghetti and ate a simple lettuce-and-cucumber salad. Id make sure I had plenty of both. I laid everything out neatly on the table and enjoyed a leisurely meal, glancing at the paper as I ate. From Sunday to Saturday, one Spaghetti Day followed another. And each new Sunday started a brand-new Spaghetti Week.

Every time I sat down to a plate of spaghetti (especially on a rainy afternoon) I had the distinct feeling that somebody was about to knock on my door. The person who I imagined was about to visit me was different each time. Sometimes it was a stranger, sometimes someone I knew. Once, it was a girl with slim legs whom I'd dated in high school, and once it was myself, from a few years back, come to pay a visit. Another time, it was William Holden, with Jennifer Jones on his arm.

William Holden?

Not one of these people, however, actually ventured into my apartment. They hovered just outside the door, without knocking, like fragments of memory, and then slipped away.

Spring, summer, and fall, I cooked and cooked, as if cooking spaghetti were an act of revenge. Like a lonely, jilted girl throwing old love letters into the fireplace, I tossed one handful of spaghetti after another into the pot.

I'd gather up the trampled-down shadows of time, knead them into the shape of a German shepherd, toss them into the roiling water, and sprinkle them with salt. Then I'd hover over the pot, oversized chopsticks in hand, until the timer dinged its plaintive note.

Spaghetti strands are a crafty bunch, and I couldn't let them out of my sight. If I were to turn my back, they might well slip over the edge of the pot and vanish into the night. The night lay in silent ambush, hoping to waylay the prodigal strands.

Spaghetti alla parmigiana

Spaghetti alla napoletana

Spaghetti al cartoccio

Spaghetti aglio e olio

Spaghetti alla carbonara

Spaghetti della pina

And then there was the pitiful, nameless leftover spaghetti carelessly tossed into the fridge.

Born in heat, the strands of spaghetti washed down the river of 1971 and vanished.

I mourn them all -- all the spaghetti of the year 1971.

When the phone rang at 3:20 p.m. I was sprawled out on the tatami, staring at the ceiling. A pool of winter sunlight had formed in the place where I lay. Like a dead fly I lay there, vacant, in a December spotlight.

At first, I didn't recognize the sound as the phone ringing. It was more like an unfamiliar memory that had hesitantly slipped in between the layers of air. Finally, though, it began to take shape, and, in the end, a ringing phone was unmistakably what it was. It was one hundred per cent a phone ring in one-hundred-per-cent real air. Still sprawled out, I reached over and picked up the receiver.

On the other end was a girl, a girl so indistinct that, by four-thirty, she might very well have disappeared altogether. She was the ex-girlfriend of a friend of mine. Something had brought them together, this guy and this indistinct girl, and something had led them to break up. I had, I admit, reluctantly played a role in getting them together in the first place.

Sorry to bother you, she said, but do you know where he is now?

I looked at the phone, running my eyes along the length of the cord. The cord was, sure enough, attached to the phone. I managed a vague reply. There was something ominous in the girls voice, and whatever trouble was brewing I knew that I didn't want to get involved.

Nobody will tell me where he is, she said in a chilly tone. Everybody's pretending they don't know. But there's something important I have to tell him, so please tell me where he is. I promise I won't drag you into this. Where is he?

I honestly dont know, I told her. I haven't seen him in a long time. My voice didn't sound like my own. I was telling the truth about not having seen him for a long time, but not about the other part (I did know his address and phone number). Whenever I tell a lie, something weird happens to my voice.

No comment from her.

The phone was like a pillar of ice.

Then all the objects around me turned into pillars of ice, as if I were in a J. G. Ballard science-fiction story.

I really don't know, I repeated. He went away a long time ago, without saying a word.

The girl laughed. Give me a break. He's not that clever. We're talking about a guy who has to make a lot of noise no matter what he does.

She was right. The guy really was a bit of a dim bulb.

But I wasn't about to tell her where he was. Do that, and next I'd have him on the phone, giving me an earful. I was through with getting caught up in other peoples messes. I'd already dug a hole in the back yard and buried everything that needed to be buried in it. Nobody could ever dig it up again.

I'm sorry, I said.

You don't like me, do you? she said suddenly.

I had no idea what to say. I didn't particularly dislike her. I had no real impression of her at all. It's hard to have a bad impression of somebody you have no impression of.

I'm sorry, I said again. But I'm cooking spaghetti right now.

I'm sorry?

I said I'm cooking spaghetti, I lied. I had no idea why I said that. But the lie had already become a part of me -- so much so that, at that moment at least, it didn't feel like a lie at all.

I went ahead and filled an imaginary pot with imaginary water, lit an imaginary stove with an imaginary match.

So? she asked.

I sprinkled imaginary salt into the boiling water, gently lowered a handful of imaginary spaghetti into the imaginary pot, set the imaginary kitchen timer for eight minutes.

So I can't talk. The spaghetti will be ruined.

She didn't say anything.

I'm really sorry, but cooking spaghetti is a delicate operation.

The girl was silent. The phone in my hand began to freeze again.

So could you call me back? I added hurriedly.

Because youre in the middle of making spaghetti? she asked.

Yeah.

Are you making it for someone, or are you going to eat alone?

I'll eat it by myself, I said.

She held her breath for a long time, then slowly breathed out. Theres no way you could know this, but I'm really in trouble. I don't know what to do.

I'm sorry I can't help you, I said.

There's some money involved, too.

I see.

He owes me money, she said. I lent him some money. I shouldn't have, but I had to.

I was quiet for a minute, my thoughts drifting toward spaghetti. Im sorry, I said. But I've got the spaghetti going, so . . .

She gave a listless laugh. Goodbye, she said. Say hi to your spaghetti for me. I hope it turns out O.K.

Bye, I said.

When I hung up the phone, the circle of light on the floor had shifted an inch or two. I lay down again in that pool of light and resumed staring at the ceiling.

Thinking about spaghetti that boils eternally but is never done is a sad, sad thing.

Now I regret, a little, that I didn't tell the girl anything. Perhaps I should have. I mean, her ex-boyfriend wasn't much to start with -- an empty shell of a guy with artistic pretensions, a great talker whom nobody trusted. She sounded as if she really were strapped for money, and, no matter what the situation, you've got to pay back what you borrow.

Sometimes I wonder what happened to the girl -- the thought usually pops into my mind when I'm facing a steaming-hot plate of spaghetti. After she hung up the phone, did she disappear forever, sucked into the 4:30 p.m. shadows? Was I partly to blame?

I want you to understand my position, though. At the time, I didn't want to get involved with anyone. That's why I kept on cooking spaghetti, all by myself. In that huge pot, big enough to hold a German shepherd.

Durum semolina, golden wheat wafting in Italian fields.

Can you imagine how astonished the Italians would be if they knew that what they were exporting in 1971 was really *loneliness*?

Monday, November 22, 2010

I LOVE KANYE WEST



Did I mention that I fucking love kanye west? I fucking love kanye west.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

ROCK THE HITLER STASH BRO, IT LOOKED GOOD ON HITLER



I had to embed this from ebaums instead of youtube because, well I dont know why but anyway.

I really loved the TV show "Generation Kill" and really enjoyed Evan Wrights book by the same name. Everyone should see it because it is good and it is good to see good things so just to get that out of the way. Anyway on to this ridiculous video:

   I remember back when I was, I dont know 16 or so when the columbine shootings happened. I was sitting watching cnn in the living room when the story broke (why the hell was I home?). I remember, I think it was wolf blitzer, after running down the list of facts concerning the story and coming back from commercial. He had a moment to sort of reflect on these facts, just moments after we had all found out about it. He uttered this absolutely absurd line, something to the effect of "This is inconceivable, how could anyone do something like this? We cannot understand why this would occur." Being 16, in high school, watching this on television it immediately, to me, made complete sense. The inability of the talking heads on television, immediately afterward but also in the weeks and months afterward to comprehend this event thoroughly confused me. Again and again I heard this ridiculous rejoinder "We cannot understand". There seemed to be then, and now, as displayed in the video at the beginning of this post, this complete inability to sympathize or even attempt to sympathize with the subjects of the discussion. It struck me again when 9/11 happened. The same story. Watching television, CNN, Wolf Blitzer, terror, "We cannot understand". It seemed, again, obvious to me why people would commit acts of terror and almost inconceivable that anyone couldnt understand. Thinking about this now, and then, I realized that there was not actually any attempt to understand. I had misunderstood the statement, assuming it was some kind of searching question when it was in fact not a question but a statement of ideology, "we cannot understand", a statement of affirmation, "we will refuse to understand" refuse to even attempt to come to understanding.

   It was then, and now, an obvious line in the sand. It reminds me of the (completely fallacious) quote from Marie Antoinette "let them eat cake". It, though fictitious, illustrates this willingly ignorant stance. As if wolf Blitzer was drawing this line between himself, the columbine shooters, the "terrorists" and saying, "I cannot understand them, I refuse the validity of their ideology by not even acknowledging its existence"

   We see this same kind of willful ignorance in the report above. The reporters strongly segregate themselves from the soldiers in the piece. Stereotyping and pigeon holing them as a "digital media generation at war". They are digital, I am analog, they seem to say, completely incongruous mechanisms of communication. The best line though is the one by Even Wright "One thing about them is they kill very well in Iraq." What a completely ridiculous revision of history. The war in iraq has been one of the lowest "intensity" conflicts the united states has ever been a part of. Never mind the atom bombs of old, the my lai massacre, these kids listen to RAP and HEAVY METAL, they are inhuman! Complete animals! They listen to music about violence and this is apparently enough to condemn them as "An ultra-violent culture" "generation kill" etc. etc.. I suppose it was the 18yr old listening to drowning pool that fabricated the weapons of mass destruction as well? I suppose if they wrote "PEACE" on the lower receiver of their m4s it would somehow humanize them? I suppose the private military in the US was opposed to the war in vietnam? I suppose that in the lead up to the war in vietnam there where nationwide protests? There where of course no protests, only untill the end and some of the worst fighting had occurred, only then did anyone protest the war in vietnam. "Generation Kill" (my generation) actually started protesting the war in iraq before it even began. I would argue we had a greater show of pacifism than before any other war in american history (to my knowledge). Even the ideas of pacifism and "anti-war" is more common and more alive than it ever has been. The idea that no war is a just war is in fact so common it is almost a parody, almost empty rhetoric. But of course these mindless journalists are completely out of touch with the greater american reality, living in their magnificent fantasy lands of NPR, Gap sweaters, toyota priusis and thinly veiled class-ism. Because of intensified communication technologies we are hyper aware of violence, in any form in our society and it juts out uncomfortably, but taking this awareness as a pandemic reality is completely naive. I love rap and used to listen to Pantera when I was 16 but this is the same sort of ridiculous accusations that where made after columbine "Marylin Manson and DOOM caused columbine" or whatever nonsense. Im not saying media doesnt influence behavior (I quite emphatically agree that it does) but tupac and the battle of fallujah are completely coincidental.

   It is not the lyrics or aesthetic of the music, or the violence of video games, or the anonymity of the internet we should really be concerned with, though they are infinitely interesting. It is again, not the message but the medium itself that is the message. This intellectual "walling off" is a weak attempt to segregate the messages within a medium (and their effects) from one another. The intention is, for me, obvious. The intention is to show that the reporters, or writers or whatever, are not like these "killers" or "terrorists". And this intention is manifest specifically because these reporters are just like the people they are reporting on. They are the terrorist. They are "killers". "It's the ultimate rush -- you're going into the fight with a good song playing in the background," Do you think a reporter would have anything different to say riding into "battle"? Sure he might listen to the doors instead of ice-cube but it is really the same difference.

   In fact I would argue that this defense mechanism "we cannot understand" is part of the very ideology, the same very defense mechanism, at play in columbine and 9/11 and the war on terror itself. So by way of example: these bullies refuse to understand or sympathize with these weird kids who like DOOM or whatever and so they pick on them ("Trench coat mafia? Thats fucking GAY!"). So then these kids getting picked on respond in turn: "Oh everyone belittles me and denies my humanity so I will deny theirs and shoot them". So then they shoot up the school or whatever. Then Wolf Blitzer again "we cannot understand this!" denying again, the humanity of all of the students. "I cannot imagine what it would of been like to go through that" they say. "I cannot even imagine your humanity".

Friday, November 19, 2010

HOW 2 COP THIS?



NO ONE MAN SHOULD HAVE ALL THIS POWER

Friday, November 5, 2010

KEEPING UP WITH THE HIPSTERS



Im rewriting this one sometimes in the future . . .




   I would like to talk about what a "hipster" is or what is "hipster". Everyone disavows any knowledge or ownership of the term. "The hipster" or "hipster" is always "the other" or something far removed from the self. We run into some of the same problems when trying to define any aspect of culture. You might say "oh we can define X as "hipster"" like say for instance you drink pabst blue ribbon beer, then you are a fucking hipster. But then lets be honest we all saw "Gran Torino" and in it Clint Eastwoods character drinks pabst blue ribbon and obviously Clint Eastwood is not a "hipster". And anyway if we look at any culture we find it impossible to point to any one, or any collection of specific behaviors or items that emerge solely from that culture. So say for instance you take the british. What is most british? Tea, tweed, the queen and so on. But tea is from china. Tweed is scotish. The genealogy of the queen proves most conclusively that she is not british. So if we seek to understand "hipster" it is impossible to pay attention strictly to the "empirical data". We cannot quantify "hipster" as a series of behaviors or objects consumed. We cannot reduce it to any one or any collection of signifiers. I should say also, though I will not write at length about it (because well, its boring), that the entomology of the term hipster has a lineage that had or has, I believe, almost nothing to do with the contemporary term.

   The fact that empirical measurement has met its limitation in defining the hipster is a jumping off point. It lets you know that we have left the realm of science and “the real” .We are starting to reach the upper atmosphere of reason. We are swiftly making our way through this atmosphere and heading towards metaphysics and ideology. Lets see how high we can get, shall we?

   The definition of "hipster" as an aesthetic or culture or even verb or adjective is of the immaterial. What then is definitive of the ideology or metaphysics of "hipster"? I would posit that it is this: Irony and the postmodern symbol reversal. Lets take an example, though do not get confused thinking the example is a concrete depiction:

   Take your generic "wolf shit". A wolf shirt is just a bad tacky item low class people wear, mostly people who live in the mountains and so on. Ok so then this person who has this hipster ideology or sense of irony comes along and thinks "oh that shirt is so hilariously bad its good and now I want one". So then he gets his own wolf shirt and wears it and it is ironic. He has took the old symbol value, a genuine admiration for wolves as depicted on a screen printed t shirt and he has worn it knowingly. Like, with a wink and a nudge, he is poking fun at americana and wolves and in a broader sense even he is poking fun at screen printed t shirts. Even poking fun at the idea that you should have anything at all printed on a shirt. Its like he is saying "its absurd to have anything on this shirt and im afraid of making any statement in seriousness so I will make this absurd statement of negation instead". In doing so he is defining his ideology by its negative, specifically because defining by the positive ("I really like wolves" or whatever) would open him up to the same kind of snide criticism he has for the other people who, without irony, wear wolf shirts. Understand as well that this criticism began with criticism of himself first, not the other. The cynicism is seen first in the self critical evaluation of his own narrative and then reflected onto society as a whole. So this narrative of incredulity and insincerity is not a criticism of society so much as a criticism of his own sincerity (or lack thereof). So that in this postmodern milieu of relativity and reversal it is impossible or at least very dangerous to make any objective, sincere statement of ideology or narrative lest it be undermined or reversed.

   It does not however stop there. Things get far more confusing. "Hipster" intertwines with otherwise non "hipster" ideologies, the sorts of ideologies even non "hipsters" profess or unknowingly follow. There is with "hipsters" an element of fashion or appropriation of "cool". This drive to take up the latest fashions is not dependent on the "hipster" or modernity. Somehow or other, I suppose sociologists will explain this one day, or perhaps neuroscience, somehow it has always been an aspect of human culture to appropriate exotic things as "fashionable" and not too long after to throw them out. This pattern of behavior however is subjected to some changes by the "hipster". No longer is it enough to adopt the latest things, this would be "trendy" behavior. "hipsters" either insist that they in fact have been appropriating these things all along "Oh yeah I used to ride my bike all the time as a kid." Insisting that they had a sincere interest in this "thing" before it became fashionable or cool. An attempt to get out in front of fashion. Undermining it by preemption. Or they move in the other direction. Consume the object, modify its symbolic value and in doing so take part in the value while simultaneously rejecting it.. As in the wolf shirt example. To take a line from zizek completely out of context, “the first is caught up in it, the second undermines it by way of interpretive analysis”. It might appear that “hipster” ideology is more destructive than constructive but this is not necessarily the case. There is after all nothing “lost” in the symbolic revision of value but the intangible symbolic value. This is not a market value and as such is not recognized as value by the “hipster”.

So the narrative of the hipster then is: "This is the symbol or the meaning, I have reversed the meaning through a subversive reuse (warhols brillo pad boxes etc.) of this object." And this would be like a classic sort of postmodern narrative. A pop art mentality you might say. But this dialectic on americana (or whatever they are reusing, whatever is "retro") this dialectic hits a logical dead end. This paradigm shift was I think best described by john waters. He told this story on NPR a few years back, I will try to paraphrase it here:

   So at some point in the 1950s or 1960s they were making these horror movies. Very low budget so they had to use lots of miniatures and bad special effects and the costumes where made out of stuff you buy at the hardware store and so on. So they where making these horror movies, doing a very bad job. Now, these movies where genuinely meant to be horrifying and scary to people but because of lack of budget or talent etc., they failed miserably to achieve this goal. Then a little later there where these fans of cinema, like john waters, who where watching these films and far from being horrified or frightened while viewing them they found them hilarious. The production was so bad. The acting so bad. The dialog so bad. The entire thing was like watching someone slip and slide and fall down a bowling alley lane. It was like a prank or a gag. So these films then gained notoriety after this. Now keep in mind the transition. Horror films with the explicit cause to horrify. These horror films fail at the cause. The failure is then appreciated itself because it is such a spectacular failure. John waters described this as the transition between "good" (actual good horror film) "bad" (bad horror films inspired by good films but failing) and "bad good" (those "bad" films failing to be "good" and succeeding in being "bad good")

This is a profound series of transitions, do not take it lightly.

   So then there was this "underground" or "cult" following of "bad good" films and a genuine and sincere appreciation for the failure of a genuine and sincere attempt to make good films. At some point however, in the 80s and 90s, this whole paradigm flips again. "Bad good" becomes recognized as an aesthetic or ideology in its own right. People start making horror films with the intention of making them "bad good". They produced them badly and did not take them seriously and any errors or problems in production was just "oh that looks so cheesy, but we are making one of those "so bad its good" movies so its ok." These films however where horrible and genuinely "bad". Everyone, as john waters says, was "in on the joke". You cant try to make a "bad good" film ironically because the "bad good" films genuinely had the intent of being good. You have changed the meaning of the thing itself by reproduction and imitation of it. You have reversed the symbol and in doing so completely destroyed the value of the symbol itself. Even the idea of the film no longer had any meaningful context. After this point, john waters contends, after "bad good", an aesthetic and ideological line had been transgressed. "Bad good" no longer could happen without a knowing irony or sarcasm which destroyed the entire notion of "bad good" itself. It became just "bad" again. After this point, someplace in the late 90s, it became imperative that horror movies actually horrify and shock you. The intentions of the horror film was reconsidered. Horror became about shock, jump cuts, actual horror, instilling actual fear in the audience and being "good" at it.

   Now, in reading this, dont judge too harshly. This is not anthropological research into the history of horror cinema. It should also be said that this is not an aesthetic swinging pendulum or anything like that. This is a series of aesthetic and ideological progression in a linear sense. Surely you can find films that contradict these trends but dont get lost in the analogy is my point.

   So, then, I would say, this series of symbolic or aesthetic transgressions is where we can find our ideology of "hipster". Laden in this example is the a priori element of the "hipster". It was at that crucial moment in which "bad good" is recognized that we have some idea of the beginning of our current notion of "hipster". It is this specific aesthetic shift, this shift in the simulacra that is the essence of "hipster". At the point that the symbol (the film) reflects a profound reality (horror) we are at the first level of simulacra. Then the inaccurate symbol is created (the bad film) this denatures and devalues a profound reality (horror). As the bad film ineffectively communicates horror. Then the next symbol transition, the "bad good" film. The "bad good" film has no reference to anything of the real. It is an imitation of a symbolic form that had already lost its connection to reality. If the symbol (the trucker hat, as example) is not worn by truckers it losses all symbolic value and in doing so losses its legitimacy. It is then just a hat or mere aesthetic. Thus the search for the new aesthetic, the next "thing". But once the next "thing" is found its consumption denatures its reality and eliminates its legitimacy. Thus this ideology begins the cycle again. This also address the concern of a priori knowledge. If you have "grasped" (shall we say) the symbolic value (a musician for instance) before it is consumed and denatured you can (or attempt) to stave off or even eliminate its loss of legitimacy. Or putting it another way "Oh yeah thats cool, I was into that last year." "Yeah but did you read the book? The book is so much better."

   Nowhere in here you will notice is an actual sincere appreciation shown. A sincere appreciation would violate the ideology of the hipster and by definition would undermine the status of "cool" (or whatever). Even the preemptive appropriation of their own childhoods is in a way ironic. Never are these appropriations of ideology or culture. “Hipsters” largely regurgitate symbols and appropriate fashions independent of context and culture. The keffiyeh scarf (for fun just google the term "hipster scarf"), native-american headband and feather wearing, horribly offensive to some but appropriated independent of context and cultural meaning nonetheless. I am struck by the way a cellphone call comes into, and out of, contextually obscure space. The "hipster" ideology reflects the structure of their own reality of course. Rarely is any attention paid to context, the physical surface of the object itself carries the vast majority of its value. It is this sort of "market value” that leads quite naturally to the "hipsters" endless consumption of material goods. And largely, when we imagine the "hipster" we imagine material goods. The gravity of the consumption is in fact so incredible it almost (completely for some) erodes any notion that "hipster" could be anything at all. "Hipster" they argue, is just another term for the latest varieties of conspicuous consumption. This culture of consumption of course is part of the larger culture of consumption going on in all first world nations in the 21st century. We should not however, as I said earlier, be confused by this seeming similarity, this endless consumption of context-less objects, as it is more a symptom of our current nationwide ideology than any ideology of the "hipster".

   I believe this disregard for meaningful context and emphasis on the "surface" of objects and behaviors is where some of the use of the term "hipster" as an epithet begins. The transgression of the "hipster" assimilates both object and symbol into mere aesthetic. This kind of depersonalized empiricism is quite rational and yet leads to a wholly anti-social set of attitudes. The emphasis on surface and aesthetic disregards the "depth" of context, denatures the symbolic value, and realigns the symbol with a culture more transitory and inane than anyone would concisely want to be a part of. A vaguely nuanced nouvea rich attitude. "I think skinny pants and vans look cool but if I wear them people will call me a hipster." etc. etc. The appropriation itself is insincere and devalues the objects and behaviors. It is the this very insincerity, this emphasis on empirical meaning and no meaning beyond that (contextual or otherwise) that opens up the hipster to the accusation of inauthenticity. It is an intractable flaw in the ideology of the "hipster". If everything is open to ridicule and derisive ironic humor or parody, than no sincere statement can be made without being attacked, and so it follows no sincere statement is made. An end-run attempt to make the "hipster" intellectually unassailable. But this same ideology of symbol transgression and irony obviously opens the "hipster" up to the accusation of insincerity and inauthenticity. This ideology is amorphous and fleeting, like asymmetric warfare. The instability of the "hipster" hides behind this ideology. Nothing is certain, everything is amorphous, nobody cares, there is no meaning or context, only surface and mutability. This very ideology violates the "hipsters" own sense of self worth. This is of course why the term "hipster" is used so commonly as an epithet by other "hipsters". They are hyper aware of the intractable structural flaws within their own ideology (even if only subconsciously) and use the term with a pathological disdain born only of the most intimate familiarity. "I know what you are but what am I?" they say to themselves.

   another element in this "hipster" ideology which I cannot quite frankly understand is this way in which they are completely seduced by their own childhoods. I dont know if this is just surface ornament to the "hipster" or something pathological, much deeper and more profound. Many of the things "hipsters" appropriate seem to emerge from a sort of hallucinatory, dream like childhood. Video games, pizza parties, kick ball games, bicycles and so on. Every day is halloween. All of these journeys are second childhoods, no responsibilities. As if adult life was just a reliving of childhood experiences. Or, put another way, as if childhood was just a reliving of adult experiences (???). I dare not tread too heavily on this subject. I dont have any particularly faith in pop psychology and surely you can hazard your own guesses about whatever repressions or libidinal conflicts or whatever this may really represent. I will say however I believe this is something larger than our ideology of the "hipster" and that it in fact pervades all elements of our american culture. Disney cartoons are made to appeal to adults, college kids watch sponge bob, etc. etc.

   So the ideology of "hipster" then is not just an independent manifestation. It coalesces at its edges with a larger "american" ideology. This realization might help to explain the difficulty of defining it. You might as effectively define it by its "negative" or "affirmative", as surely if we wait long enough it will come to embody its negative ("X is cool again" etc. etc.). This line of thought however, would lead us to a place I am substantially opposed to. The sort of thinking that says "oh, hipster is something that cannot be defined" (this whole notion is the sort of thing a hipster would say anyway). I reject this idea of "no narrative". This "end of culture" narrative. This is purely a mystification of the term "hipster" and is the worst kind of obscurantism. “No ideology” is in fact an ideology. Yet another example of ideology blinding its holder to its own subjective existence (what else is ideology good for if not that?). The fact that everyone has differing opinions as to the nature of “hipster” seems to as well undermine this notion. A whole myriad of narratives on an ideology suffused with the negation of narrative. We have such a variety of narratives specifically because, "everyone is in on the joke" and “hipsters” are the punch line. If everyone is in on the joke then this ideology must be ending or coming to a substantial shift.. So an example, fixed gear bikes used to be hipster, now they are just mainstream and 12 year olds ride them. The conclusion of that whole "fixed gear thing". Everyone is in on it now.

   The "hipster" then might be called our canary in the coalmine. It is one of the most extreme aberrations of american culture and contemporary (left wing) american ideology. If the "hipster" is a fading phenomenon then we must assume they represent a greater and more substantive shift in the common american ideological milieu. What is "ending" this "hipster" ideology then? What circumvents this "hipster" ideology? This is obvious for me, technology .Technology is the solvent of culture. What technology you ask? Web 2.0 of course. Web 2.0 has caused such a profound shift in american culture it almost cannot be overestimated. All of the appropriation and symbol revision that defined the "hipster" ideology was undermined by the internet. Previously the obscure musical styling of yiddish folk singers was just that, obscure musical styling. The internet however explodes this xenophobic bohemian tradition. Now everyone is "in on it" and by extension, everyone is kind of a hipster. It follows then that if everyone is a "hipster" that "hipster" ideology itself has become denatured, fallen to its own reversal. Now, your mom wears a keffiyeh. She saw it on one of her friends blogs and thought it looked really "cool". Oprah hosts kimya dawson. "Indie" films open nation wide. Everyone knows about the next big thing. The counter-culture is countered. In the words of jay-z, "you cant bring the future back".

Thursday, November 4, 2010

WHAT ARE YOU DOING AFTER THE ORGY

 
   This picture doesnt actually belong here or anything but it provides a visual "line break" between the blog posts and also people love looking at pictures. It caught your eye didnt it? Anyway, on we go:

   "throughout the "civilized" world the construction of stockpiles of objects has brought with it the complementary process of stockpiles of people - the line, waiting, traffic jams, concentration, the camp. That is "mass production," not in the sense of a massive production or for use by the masses, but the production of the masses. The masses as the final product of all sociality, and, at the same time, as putting an end to sociality, because these masses that one wants us to believe are the social, are on the contrary the site of the implosion of the social. The masses are the increasingly dense sphere in which the whole social comes to be imploded, and to be devoured in an uninterrupted process of simulation."

   Jean Baudrillard there again. Ok so, an explosion/implosion paradigm, like a stars death, a natural process, radiating at one point, then at a later time, imploding and absorbing radiation. Socialism simulates the social or is an order of simulacrum of the social (it masks the absence of a profound reality). Socialism is the black hole to the social that has/is imploding. The vacuum left by the absence of the social is filled with its implosion. We no longer care for the elderly in our own home, the emptiness is the vacuum. It is filled by the black hole, the retirement community, the implosion of the elderly. The elderly, with the collapse of the social and consequent implosion, are no longer home to care for the children while the parents work. The child vacuum of child care, day care centers, the implosion of child care. Parents once worked and produced, "Absorbed and ejected at fixed times by their work place" now however "the real of production, has disappeared."  Parents "work" and like the fission of a star or the weak force of gravity the implosion continues inexorably, the return arc of a parabola. The vacuum of work, the absence of parenthood, the simulacra of sex education (it masks and denatures a profound reality)  a natural extension of institutionalised day care and the subsequent "public" education. The implosion of parenting. The school system absorbing the radiation loosed by parents decades ago (the antiquated behavior of parents, mock outrage at sex ed classes etc.) Abstinence as a rule. The collapse of motherhood, motherhood vacuum, the instructional panel on a tampon package, the inhumanity of nature laid bare. The implosion bending light and time, accelerated and phase shifted. The very notion of it is absurd and yet it indisputably does occur. The reels of a movie changing over seamlessly and no one in the audience notices. A yawning gulf. The entropy of society. A complete recontextualization of every social concept. Accelerated implosion of energy. But where does it go? To a point. Incredible density. Mass density, mass production, mass population, mass culture, mass consumption, incredible mass. You cannot even purchase individual products anymore, it is all "synergy", you consume an entire lifestyle or brand. "Whole" foods, organic coffee, harm free textiles, "family" size, entire ideologies are purchased simultaneously. Like the frequencies in a beam of light simultaneous and invisible to the naked eye. The entire knowledge of the universe compressed into a microchip. Mass information. Your entire life experience, date of death and cause, compressed into your DNA, a indefatigable speed limit on your own ambition, compressed into inert amino acids. The vacuum decoded the human genome. The whole of "potential energy", every living thing on the planet fits on the head of a pin, science doing theology one better, yet again.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

FEELING FUKUY?



First Kanye, then Fukuyama. Its like a meta-narrative diptych!:

   "Hegel maintained that all human consciousness was limited by the particular social and cultural conditions of man's surrounding environment—or as we say, by "the times." Past thought, whether of ordinary people or great philosophers and scientists, was not true absolutely or "objectively," but only relative to the historical or cultural horizon within which that person lived. Human history must therefore be seen not only as a succession of different civilizations and levels of material accomplishment, but more importantly as a succession of different forms of consciousness. Consciousness—the way in which human beings think about fundamental questions of right and wrong, the activities they find satisfying, their beliefs about the gods, even the way in which they perceive the world—has changed fundamentally over time. And since these perspectives were mutually contradictory, it follows that the vast majority of them were wrong, or forms of "false consciousness" to be unmasked by subsequent history . . .

. . . The radical nature of Hegelian historicism is hard to perceive today because it is so much a part of our own intellectual horizon. We assume that there is an historical "perspectivism" to thought and share a general prejudice against ways of thinking that are not "up to date." Historicism is implicit in the position of the contemporary feminist who regards her mother's or grandmother's devotion to family and home as a quaint holdover from an earlier age. Much as that progenitor's voluntary submission to a male-dominated culture might have been right "for her time" and may even have made her happy, it is no longer acceptable and constitutes a form of "false consciousness." Historicism is also implicit in the attitude of a black who denies that it is possible for a white person to ever understand what it means to be black. For though the consciousness of blacks and whites is not necessarily separated by historical time, they are held to be separated by the horizon of culture and experience within which each was nurtured, and across which there is only the most limited of communication."


   "Thus the nature of human desire, according to Hegel, is not given for all time, but changes between historical periods and cultures. To take one example, an inhabitant of contemporary America or France or Japan spends the greater part of his or her energies in pursuit of things—a certain type of car or athletic shoes or designer gown—or of status—the right neighborhood or school or job. Most of these objects of desire did not even exist and therefore could not have been desired in earlier times, and would probably not be desired by a present-day resident of an impoverished Third World country, whose time would be spent in search of more basic needs like security or food. Consumerism and the science of marketing that caters to it refer to desires that have literally been created by man himself, and which will give way to others in the future . Our present desires are conditioned by our social milieu, which in turn is the product of the entirety of our historical past. And the specific objects of desire are only one of the aspects of "human nature" that have changed over time; the importance of desire in relation to the other elements of human character has also evolved. Hegel's Universal History therefore gives an account not only of the progress of knowledge and institutions, but of the changing nature of man himself. For it is human nature to have no fixed nature, not to be but to become something other than it once was."

Monday, November 1, 2010

FEELING FUKUY!

This is pretty much the face I make every time I read the term "meta-narrative"



Anyway so I finally started reading "The end of history and the last man" by Francis Fukuyama. Im only like 30 pages in but its already really fucking good. I guess everyone already knows he is brilliant but anyway here is an excerpt:


"The unfolding of modern natural science has had a uniform effect on all societies that have experienced it, for two reasons. In the first place, technology confers decisive military advantages on those countries that possess it, and given the continuing possibility of war in the international system of states, no state that values its independence can ignore the need for defensive modernization. Second, modern natural science establishes a uniform horizon of economic production possibilities. Technology makes possible the limitless accumulation of wealth, and thus the satisfaction of an ever-expanding set of human desires. This process guarantees an increasing homogenizatioq of all human societies, regardless of their historical origins or cultural inheritances. All countries undergoing economic modernization must increasingly resemble one another: they must unify nationally on the basis of a centralized state, urbanize, replace traditional forms of social organization like tribe, sect, and family with economically rational ones based on function and efficiency, and provide for the universal education of their citizens. Such societies have become increasingly linked with one another through global markets and the spread of a universal consumer culture. Moreover, the logic of modern natural science would seem to dictate a universal evolution in the direction of capitalism. The experiences of the Soviet Union, China, and other socialist countries indicate that while highly centralized economies are sufficient to reach the level of industrialization represented by Europe in the 1950s, they are woefully inadequate in creating what have been termed complex "post-industrial" economies in which information and technological innovation play a much larger role."

Saturday, October 30, 2010

IM TALKING ABOUT SEX, GET IT, IM AN ADULT



Anyway, so I was watching "Inside the Medieval Mind: SEX" and now im going to write about it. The whole series is pretty good, you should torrent it or you can watch it on youtube or if you are really clever you can probably spoof your ip and watch it on the bbc website like a real briton!

The medieval concept of sexuality condemned sex. Every aspect of human sexuality was incredibly powerful and it took the most powerful institutions of the time to even attempt to contain it. God himself came down and smote sodomites. The holy roman church was more powerful than even the state and the true origin of the power of kings. All sex was condemned as a sin in every guise, the nocturnal emissions of the clergy not withstanding. Only "necessary" sex was "allowed", sex for the purpose of procreation. The position was codified, clothes on (as much as possible), no enjoyment, though truely everyone knows the tactile sense cannot be "turned off" or denied. Any sex that did not result in reproduction, or a stern attempt at it, was suspect and vilified if not out right grounds for execution. No allowance for love (a thoroughly modern concept) or a sense of conviviality or connectedness.

This notion of denying nature and the self of course never worked and sex then was as varied as it is today, just as common. Nature and evolutionary pressure being what it is it would be pure literary invention to believe that you could turn the creature against itself and stop it from engaging in sex. The semantic game of the church, drawing a line between sex and procreation was another folly. Procreation is the accident of sex, in as much as sleeping involves waking always at some point.

Look now, and for me, sublimated in our time, this is the really profound twist, look now at our concepts of sexuality and sexual sin. Choose any television portrayal you like, any movie plot, sex without reproduction is holy, codified in its emotional range and positions. The mood entirely strict in its fantasy. The modern depiction of sex is just as bizarre (though it assuages our spiritual and natural concerns in a way simple "reproduction" never could) hollywood sex, the way sex should look, the sex you want to have not the sex you have, no strange smells, no sweat, no lingering memories of yesterdays argument. The visual is coded deeply within its aesthetic. The curve of a breast or the crumpled sheet does not suggest the breast or sheet at all but the tactile sense of the thing itself. The breast is an enigma and a fleeting horror if it is not touched and then, the fourth wall broken, the visual trick vanishes, the curtain is pulled back, this is part of a human being, it smells like a human being, it feels like a human being, it pulls you tight like a human being. Real sex has nothing of the aesthetic of film. If you could watch yourself "doing it" you would be disgusted (or should) "If I knew sex looked like that I never would of done it!" Sex is not of the visual, no matter what so called experts claim, most of us still have sex in the dark or at least are blind during the act by provocation of the act itself.

So our modern sex is still swallowed in the obscene semantic/visual game, the tricks of wearing clothes or turning the lights out while "doing it". Surely the real of sex remains the same but, what of our notions of sin and sexuality? This is where we see true penetration, the truly obscene act, yet another ignorant negation of the self, the violence of this self loathing and defeat no longer involves burnings or such medieval pageantry but we have our own pageants and solutions in the guise again of  popular media.

Now, now we have twisted the medieval ideal on its head (completely by chance I dont mean to imply we actually have any knowledge or concept of medieval sexuality, or that anyone but perverts really care) It is no longer reproduction that is applauded as the core of true sexuality and tactile pleasure that is condemned. No, noww it is reproduction that is condemned, and the sin of our modern sexuality is not engaging in tactile or visual pleasure. Instead of physically flogging in public our sexual deviants we flog them on television, on jerry springer or oprah, in our sitcoms and popular films. "You didnt use "protection"!?" they say. Protection from what we might ask? From your mate? From nature? The hostility implied in this phrase "use protection" the most tender act something that must be defended against. Defense against the vaginal, defense against the phallic invasion. But the true sin, the true threat for our modern notion of sexuality is from that of procreation. Imagine the horror on the faces! "you are the father!" (shock! dismay!) "umm we need to talk about something, im pregnant" (existential horror! pee on a stick, primitive divination!) Now the sin, now the threat, it is not from god or all his holy angels, not from the church or purgatory, now the threat is the prison of parenthood. The stock of our modern age, the baby carriage. Procreation in our time is the sole providence of imbeciles, the irresponsible, uneducated foreigners, stupid teenagers and the behavior of strange religious sects. Procreation has become a burden, the pregnancy of a women, her cross to bear for 9 months, "child" support the cross for men, lasting approx 18 years. Not quite purgatory but it might seem it at times.

And I guess now, I would like to make my point succinctly, so there is no confusion about it: Sex is a normal adult activity, get over it.

Friday, October 29, 2010

CHARLIE BROWN IS ON HULU



http://www.hulu.com/watch/188640/its-the-great-pumpkin-charlie-brown

p.s. I love you internet <3<3<3

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