then

Eight

"I weep not with remorse but for the fear that I shall not be able to satisfy my passion." ('Tis A Pity)

Nine

No More Masterpieces

"One of the reasons for the asphyxiating atmosphere in which we live without possible escape or remedy - and in which we all share, even the most revolutionary among us - is our respect for what has been written, formulated, or painted, what has been given form, as if all expression were not at last exhausted, were not at a point where things must break apart if they are to start anew and begin fresh." Artaud

Ten


...

you've done enough

A long time ago, in a thought now far, far away, I was going to vent my frustrations about a semi-forced viewing of Avatar, a movie of which I knew near zilch about and was content having it remain so. A one and a two sum it up about parallel to my own repulsions, and probably far more eloquently than I'm capable of outputting these days.

Its characters are stubbornly two-dimensional (irony intended), either good or bad, and Jake alone is allowed to briefly transition from one state to the other. The natives are good, because they are unsullied, they are innocent, they live by traditional values and know their place in the order of things. The bad guys are cartoonishly evil, and likewise without depth. In equal part greedy and sadistic, they need to be asked to please not kill the children, which they really don’t mind doing if it means getting their hands on the precious ore of Pandora more expeditely. Hell, they might even throw in the killing for free. Which is why, in the end, Avatar is against imperialism in the same way that Tom and Jerry is against cats. It is a caricature of what critical cinema could and ought to be and indeed has been and is, if altogether too infrequently.

Avatar is the cinema version of an ongoing trend: the piles of logo-stamped reusable shopping bags at the grocer, the urbanites sporting the fashion meets function that is SIGG... the flashy, feel-good marketing of an ideology not for change but to assure us we're buying and entertaining ourselves just right as we are.

* * *

Enough! From a gripe of "I" to a gripe of "us", this blog consistently feels as if it's being dragged down too cynical of a path. My next entry will be a sort of where I am now and what do I do from here (being a new year and all). The writing of this entry has been delayed due to my recent demotion to au pair.

i can't feel you anymore

a time for family gatherings

note: above perspective not shared by all, but rather, well, lone.

masking the gap

"The rich and the poor no longer live in two nations, at least not socially. Economic divisions may be more pronounced than ever, but we support the same football teams, watch the same television programmes, go to the same movies. Mass culture is for everyone, not just the masses." Lulled by the celebritariat

Somewhat ironically, in the same publication a rather ignorant article (though worth reading for the data despite the author's neglect to analyze its implications to their fullest) promotes the benefits of meritocracy (via the growth of online gaming networks) and how industry can instantaneous collect this data to better gear their products to the consumer (who is so generously referred to by the "father of virtual economics" as the "hairless monkey"):

"From Castronova’s perspective, the fundamentally measurable and manipulable nature of electronic media means that the time for setting theories and ideals above practical observations is now largely gone. It is no longer possible to pretend that you can change what people are like or, indeed, what they like. It’s all about using what you know."

This comment is never directly addressed. Giving itself over so blatantly to the mass of mediocrity's demands, the online gaming industry only further imitates existing industries' thirst for exploitation of interests, but with the innovative advantage of immediate adaptation of the product, which as a byproduct inhibits any chance of adaptation or growth of the consumer. Why should one question one's ridiculous demands for base gratification when they are so readily catered? This mentality spreads far beyond the virtual world.

Instead the author praises the rediscovered sense of community found in playing online checkers on Facebook, never questioning why people feel the need to play such games online, denying themselves the intimacy of immediate conversation and sometimes drawing these games out ridiculously over the course of days depending on how often they sign in to their accounts. The virtual world of gaming and social networking might be becoming more "real" but only to the extent that it is increasingly modeling our consumer-driven capitalistic world, sweatshops and all. They bring profit to the few who excel at exploiting the masses' impulses and increased complacency to the many who are thought of as no more than the compiled statistics of their purchases, which they proudly list on their Facebook pages.

"Behind this micro-transaction model is the secret of these games companies’ success: data—and data of a kind that no other online business can match. The biggest online games companies now record more than 1bn data points every day, measuring everything from whether blue or red objects generate more sales to whether a certain phrasing improves the rate at which users click on a particular purchase. They can also see, for instance, exactly when the majority of players give up, and then release several subtle variations on that precise point to different segments of their audience, recording what works best and following it up with targeted email questionnaires. And games companies have only begun to scratch the surface of what’s possible. As Nicholas Lovell, an industry analyst, consultant and founder of the blog Gamesbrief, put it to me, “I can’t think of a single media company that couldn’t learn from the world of social and online games”—whether this is about the power of community, of precisely calibrated rewards, or of simply creating a virtual location so appealing that people will make it a part of their online lives."

Belittled into these statistics, every opinion is given equal weight and little thought is given to one's credentials or authority on a subject. Instead the perkiest voice gets the spotlight, so long as it is willing to promote the egalitarianism of the dollar. We are all equal now, and the comfort of knowing that our spokespeople are just as everyday as we are and that we are just as fashionable as they are, allows us to rest quietly, purchasing more and thinking less.

Cheers to a peachy future.

Rhinoceros

LOGICIAN: [to the OLD GENTLEMAN] Here is an example of a syllogism. The cat has four paws. Isidore and Fricot both have four paws. Therefore Isidore and Fricot are cats.

OLD GENTLEMAN: [to the LOGICIAN] My dog has got four paws.

LOGICIAN: [to the OLD GENTLEMAN] Then it's a cat.

BERENGER: [to JEAN] I've barely got the strength to go on living. Maybe I don't even want to.

OLD GENTLEMAN: [to the LOGICIAN, after deep reflection] So then logically speaking, my dog must be a cat?

LOGICIAN: [to the OLD GENTLEMAN] Logically, yes. But the contrary is also true.

BERENGER: [to JEAN] Solitude seems to oppress me. And so does the company of other people.

JEAN: [to BERENGER] You contradict yourself. What oppresses you - solitude, or the company of others? You consider yourself a thinker, yet you're devoid of logic.

OLD GENTLEMAN: [to the LOGICIAN] Logic is a very beautiful thing.

LOGICIAN: [to the OLD GENTLEMAN] As long as it is not abused.

BERENGER: [to JEAN] Life is an abnormal business.

JEAN: On the contrary. Nothing could be more natural, and the proof is that people go on living.

BESENGER: There are more dead people than living. And their numbers are increasing. The living are getting rarer.

* * *

Within scattered dying cells (as if to pass this knowledge on to the newer ones before they expire) an urge to remark upon the various posted quotes rumbles, nearly mistakable for indigestion. Yet all my mental reflections wisp about obtusely with every effort for transcription feeling forced and unfruitful. (Even so little as a single-lined e-mail feels forged.) I expressed this lamentation and the advice I received was to keep reading, keeping observing, keep taking in all this stimulus as feed - don't focus on the output as that is the natural outcome of all this intake. So I think of these posts (with your patience) as me periodically dropping my underpants to see if anything comes out. With the right mix of nutrients, perhaps something solid, healthy, can be produced.

flowers

"It is the same universe from which he was excluded, as far away and inaccessible as the other, and it discloses totality because of its remoteness. This absences of connection with external reality is transfigured and becomes the sign of the demiurge's independence of his creation. He works at arm's length, he stands clear of the object he is sculpting. In the realm of the imaginary, absolute impotence changes sign and becomes omnipotence. " Sartre on Genet

the distance prolonged

10.27.09 | a snapshot



11.4.09 | a mood

"thick in consistency, cold and dry in temperament"

11.5.09 | an excerpt

...why can't I let moments pass, ebb and flow according to their transitory nature? Again, I find within myself a desire to cling, even after the moment has peaked and begun its ever diminishing descent, still I try to preserve through delirium an image no longer consistent with its reality. Can it be fixed, or more critically, should it be fixed? I flail frantically, trying to assert control over my environment instead of allowing events to flow naturally. If I am inherently solitary why do I so desperately yearn for intimacy through connection with another individual - is this desire not contradictory? Maybe I still have the instinctual inclination to interact with my surrounding, to exist physically, palpably, but experiencing this transfer through some single, targeted entity is all that I can handle, the limit of my character. This is probably in part falsified and the aversion is really controlled by some inherent fear, or rather that the desire for more is so faint that it conversely feels the other way 'round whereby any inclination I have for more is only a manifestation of a social pressure, a desire to emulate the behavior of others who appear similar but are not the same.

[By chance today...

the video origin of accompanied stills.]

I am attempting to experience all of life through a single human channel, but why through the medium of another and not experience life raw on my own? Always this need for a filter, as if I am by nature too susceptible to be so naked with life. How can I build up the necessary callouses when always wearing gloves? This experience with life is not provoked by an inclination to interact with a vast world but is only used vainly to further dissect my own behavior, to manifest some sort of outpouring that would give my being a sense of sincerity, a genuineness that would make it appear more tangible, less tender. Such guile. I am becoming too vague, getting lost within my own skewed tendencies, protectively obscuring by words, not clarified...

the animations of Yuriy Norshteyn

Hedgehog in the Fog (1975)





Tale of Tales (1979)
Part 1 of 4

Translations of verses can be found
on the corresponding Wikipedia page.

"If you interact with things in your life, everything is constantly changing. And if nothing changes, you're an idiot." Umberto Eco