in this insular world, here
of infinite space
the power to create
confined in boxes.

edges applied retroactively,
the click line in the sand
where everything falls off
on the reflection in the screen.

burning in our lap,
let's make pockets!
the warm void made
of connecting edges.

white space
two for
one/zero
sale.

Truth and Indelible marks

I am trying to make a more conscious effort to make things in my life indelible. Mostly as an attempt to keep my self from regret, nostalgia, shame, and dissatisfaction. the internet, in its ephemeral hurricane tsunami splendor, has several ways to combat this. the ability to edit and delete posts, even deleting "profiles" etc. allows much of our interaction to be stricken from the record. At the same time, it makes documentation of our interactions infinitesimally easier. One might say, it makes us gods.

av·a·tar /ˈævəˌtɑr, ˌævəˈtɑr/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[av-uh-tahr, av-uh-tahr] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation –noun

1.	Hindu Mythology. the descent of a deity to the earth in an incarnate form or some manifest shape; the incarnation of a god.

2.	an embodiment or personification, as of a principle, attitude, or view of life.

3.	Computers. a graphical image that represents a person, as on the Internet.

of these, i think the one that starts with "Computers" is the least appropriate, mostly because it reduces the powerful process of embodiment and personification to the manifestation of "a graphical image".

Just like printed paper money is backed by gold, the internet is merely a representation of legal tender backed by humans. Our communication of "principle, attitude, or view of life" is present, even if it is limited to boxes (just like the one I am writing in now) for the space of creation. Where else in our lives can we reverse, edit, or cleanly remove the public trace of our actions? Why do we exercise that power? Shame? Selective memory?

The French Historian Pierre Nora said, "History is perpetually suspicious of memory and its true mission is to suppress and destroy it."

Similar to Thomas ("Darwin's Bulldog") Huxley, "The great tragedy of Science - the slaying of a beautiful hypothesis by an ugly fact."


In both instances the desired mentality is allowed to dominate through means slaying, suppression, and destruction. The facts are constantly at odds with what we want them to be. Oddly enough, the front lines of this battle are often not only turbulent, but silent, personal, and delusional. When history steps in, and it becomes time to pass these ideas onto the next generation, we can pass the desired result (idealized mentality), shed of its excruciating struggle to become pure.

Ever seen David Lynch's Lost Highway? Bill Pullman's character is suspicious of cameras because he likes to remember things his "own way". Pierre Nora investigates this mentality and often uses French National Memory as his subject, where he is less interested in linear historical narrative of the events that actually occurred than in the processes that adopt the events into collective memory. Histoire des Mentalités (history of mentalities)

"a history in multiple voices . . . less interested in causes than in effects; . . . less interested in 'what actually happened' than in its perpetual re-use and misuse, its influence on successive presents; less interested in traditions than in the way in which traditions are constituted and passed on." -from Realms of Memory

In On Truth, by Harry G. Frankfurt, he says that "it is nearly always more advantageous to face the facts than to remain ignorant of them". He says the crime of lying is creating a false reality, alienating to the victim(s). "The victim of the lie is... shut off from the world of common experience and isolated in an illusory realm to which there is no path that others might find or follow."

On the first Dial-A-Stranger, a radio show on KPWR that pairs stranger's asking questions to strangers willing to provide answers, a question was, "would you rather be right, or happy." In general, people would much rather be happy with a lie, than incredibly unhappy with the truth. If we are happy under false pretenses, isn't that just as alienating as being a victim of a lie? I feel that the utmost happiness comes from being fully aware and connecting with people honestly.

So why not leave obfuscation and anonymity, embracing transparency and accessibility? Though this blog is now 5 posts old, I already want to delete things I said less than a week ago. Somehow I have convinced myself that it is a better practice of power to constantly want to delete something I said and deny myself, than to simply delete it and pretend it never happened.

And i still find it incredibly strange that our monetary value system is still based on shiny metal.

The Helpers of St. Nicolas

Some one that knows me all too well sent me a video of what are called Krampus. The Krampus are " companions of St. Nicolas" that do his dirty work (i.e. hitting children with bundles of sticks, throwing them into bags, and filling their stockings with coal. )

The video below is not the one that was sent, this one is much more violent and scary. They usually just dance around, but this one shows that they can get a bit more aggressive and physical. I urge you to investigate other Krampus documentation to get a better sense of how the tradition varies. The basic story goes, every December 5th, the eve of the feast of St. Nick, these hairy-scaries take to the street and scare the shit out of children, good and bad, which makes them feel extra good the next day when they are still alive, and have shoes full of candy, apples, and delicious baked goods.

So this Christmas, if you were not haunted by these horned specters, didn't get coals or sticks in your shoes, and didn't suffer multiple whippings, take it as a sign that you improved enough to ward of the Krampus. And enjoy the holdover of Germanic culture in the Americas.

p.s. those bells are awesome.

More on Lorna Dee Cervantes

The Body Is Braille (with translation)

EL CUERPO ES BRAILLE

Me dice “tu trasero
es tan hermoso.” Sus manos
trazando mi espalda.
Estoy ardiendo como el anillo blanco
que rodea la luna. “Luna de brujas”
dijo mi abuela. En la escuela lo llaman
“un reflejo de cristales de hielo”.
Una tormenta hierve en el caldero
del cielo. Me enamora
pero no le diré
si es presagio
o hielo.

I was wrong about the title (see below). at least google's fifefox search suggestions were. I like the spanish one more. (duh.) My spanish is rusty at best, and has probably always lacked a command of conjugation necessary to truly understand the meanings of poetry, but if anyone reads this and can provide an explanation of the word "enamora" it would be greatly appreciated. In my mind, that line could mean "I fall in love" or "I fell in love" or simply "I love".

Translation is always a fascinating facet of poetry, as Katherine Bash would certainly agree. In her exhibit at Women and Their Work, she had a piece of poetry ( i can't remember which one) with several different translations.

It is always interesting to see which words or phrases generate the greatest differences, and how these points reflect the variety of meanings ascribed to words that would otherwise be complicitly accepted as "understood" were they communicated (spoken) and interpreted (heard) in the same language.

Museums and Subcultural Appeal

I just heard a small snippet of John Cleese on No Dogs or Philosophers Allowed where he questioned our ability to live in the moment if much of our present is spent repairing the past or preparing for the future.



I found this looking at Lorna Dee Cervantes' blog
which i found looking for the poem "The Body as Braille"
which i found while looking for more information about Olafur Eliasson's installation "The Body as Brain"
which i found on his website,
which i visted to find more about his most recent installation at the SFMoMA,
which i visited trying to find out if Devendra Banhart is in fact in an upcoming Romantic Comedy. He is not, to my knowledge, but is a major part of an exhibit entitled "Abstract Rhythms: Paul Klee and Devendra Banhart".


now for a massive digression:

I'm not quite sure how I feel about the increasing attempts of museums to direct their attention at "the kids" by luring them in through sub/counter-cultural attractions like Devendra's --his name apparently means "king of gods") -- upcoming performance/simulcast (which are sold out/available for $8.00).

A few years ago, I saw DJ Spooky (Paul D. Miller) as part of a starbuck's sponsored event at the MFAH, in conjunction with an impressively comprehensive Basquiat exhibit. At the time I was doing a lot of research into appropriation art/culture, and he seemed to be gaining "academia clout", but somehow when i listened to his music, it failed to make the same leaps. I suppose I expected him to be utilizing "the mix" and his power as a "DJ" (buzzwords for his ideas) to reflect some of the musical and cultural influences that were reflected in Jean Michel Basquiat's work, but he ended up playing songs that you would expect to hear in a run-of-the-mill club, and making overall boring "re-mixes" of videos. The high point was "satisfaction", the rolling stones video where the room gets filled with bubbles. Either way, I was not enticed by Spooky's performance to look at or even consider the paintings and sculptures that served as little more than an elaborate backdrop for his DJ station. I didn't stay all night, and was less than attentive. however, i did attend on 2 other occasions, on DJ Spooky-free days.

The point is, I'm not sure how much events like this really foster lasting participation or interest in the arts, if _____ locust can simply come, gobble up a musical performance by their favorite "hippie, dippy" artist, glance at some stuff on the walls and never return to the museum or even consider the work of Paul Klee. This is an overall cynical response, based on a bad experience, but worth considering.

For the record, today, I like both DB's art and music. I wish him the best in his endeavor, and hope he will shatter the expectations of anyone who is equally disenchanted with institutional art's youth-targeted PR.

"It's the digital age"

I'm sure it is all too common for a first blog entry to deal with issues of the coming, expanding, invasion of the digital.

I'm sure that this will be a recurring theme as I use easy-click-style publishing to "externalize" my tangible life in digital form. Does it seem strange that we connect to the "outside" world through a network that is inherently contained within objects/machines?

I have usually wanted to do these kind of things by hand, but alas, I have submitted to the "minima" template, if only temporarily, and away I run. Seeing as that I don't have a computer due to unfortunate events of May 18th, I am increasingly streamlining my internet usage, and paring it down to its essential (e-mail, links from friends, event info, calendars, etc.) in many ways. Endless surfing is OUT (for now). Blogging is IN (for now).

There. I bought in to you, Blogspot.com. Your 3 page process to create my own website was too easy. Let's forever be skeptical of each other.