intellectual properties

youwillhavetolearntolookattheskyagain (post #14)

http://www.themorningnews.org/article/the-city-is-wilder-and-kinder-than-you-think (2/9/12):

The poems on Old Street are set in capital white letters on a brushed black background, in a sort of mangled Futura; it’s a type treatment that should send his words running and screaming through the streets but somehow does not. Instead, the words lean calmly against the wall and arouse a kind of subtle and unnoticed reflection. People pass by on their way to or from here or there. They do double-takes and slow down. Intrigue wraps their faces. They stop, read, think, and eventually move on, carrying something with them that maybe wasn’t there before. Something that came free, silent and unexpected, set in capital white letters on a brushed black background.

“I’m an acolyte of Situationist ideas,” Montgomery says, referring to Situationist International, a group of 20th-century European revolutionaries who used public art installations to capture people’s attention, ask questions, and express ideas. “Their influence on me is far reaching. But the key introductory idea is perhaps Guy Debord’s idea of the spectacle, by which he means loosely the coalition of capitalism and the media.”

Debord, a French social theorist, writer and filmmaker, helped to form the SI in 1957. In his influential book, The Society of the Spectacle, he suggests that the combination of capitalism and the mass media will lead to a society dominated by false images, and that these images will act as a spectacle isolating people from reality. Debord eventually shot himself through the heart in 1994 in a small village in Auvergne, France.

“What Debord and the SI really get into,” Montgomery says, “and what sets them apart from much other post-Marxist thought, is questions of what capitalism does to us on the inside; in the inner sphere of life, to our hearts and minds, almost to our karmic sphere. I think those questions have never been more pertinent, especially in this historical moment when it is inarguably clear that capitalism in its current extreme form is not only immoral, but technically flawed.”

…

Montgomery’s poems hang near the vacant Old Street Magistrate’s Court, where, until recently, a group of Occupy London protesters had been squatting. “If you look at what Occupy are doing,” he says, “I think we’re finally seeing a positive international forum for positive change to the global financial system. That’s if we listen to them and don’t marginalize their voice.”

Emma is a 42-year-old Occupy camper and writer. She says she thinks it’s important to see artwork like Montgomery’s in the public realm. “Reclaiming public space is vital,” she says. “Art, music, poetry, performance, debate, conversation—these are the things that bring us together, that lead us out of our isolation, that allow us—the 99%—to connect, to share, and eventually, to mobilize. Every attempt to stimulate conversation regarding how we live now and how we could do it better is valuable.”

water dragon so far

1.  it was cold and foggy today at 9:00am, and so few people out. my bike commute is so familiar to me now i have to remind myself to watch where i am going. ah, yes, more bicycle analogies for life.

2. today, i finished the kind-of-secret thing that has been consuming me. at the last minute, due to technical difficulties, it was printed and sealed and addressed and packaged and dropped in the box for overnight delivery. it’s due tomorrow. so i think? i can come out of my intellectual hole now. if i’ve somehow flaked on any of you…sorry. lmk. we’ll catch up.

so yes!  the biggest deadline i’ve faced in years has come and gone. i did what i could. i will try not to stress now over the next month+ until i hear back.

3. we got burning man tix in the lottery!

4. it’s also not dark at 5:00 anymore. much better. like.

so—end of January! yay!

happy year of the WATER DRAGON!  i’m a fire dragon, and so if you believe in chinese astrology, this should not be one of my luckiest years, as fire is opposite water. but i don’t really believe in astrology, and so far? i’d say yes. lucky.

this monday morning mantra

dreams of armageddon

thanks to the World Ending May 21st prophecy, and all the associated internet memes this week, last night i dreamed that it happened.  my POV was from somewhere in the north oakland/berkeley hills, and it was a clear night.  then suddenly:  a mushroom cloud and bright orange light from the west, and san francisco was gone. charcoal. obliterated. you would think there would have been more panic in my dream, but there wasn’t.  it was more morbid curiosity, or not unlike going into the hills to watch the 4th of july fireworks.   some time later, a smaller flash of light/explosion, approximated somewhere in berkeley.  even knowing that people i loved had died, i was still unpanicked.  perhaps it was shock.  i don’t remember what i planned to do, only that it seemed beautiful and i was not worried.

i assume this surfacing of the world ending May 21, 2011 calculation is Christian one-upmanship/backlash/backchannel against the “heathen” 2012 prophecy, which i also put no stock in. i mean, i did go to a remote canyon in Sedona, Arizona to Party Like It Was 1999 for Y2K, but that was more because the opportunity presented itself. i didn’t really care if the world ended.

in any case, jokes aside, being as i am, i have been thinking about What If The World Did End Tomorrow? i didn’t do anything different this week. no shopping sprees or sudden forays into hard narcotics, but i did think about the state of my soul. and perhaps from some belief perspectives, this is the sign of a true blind sinner, but i think i’m alright. i do not believe that Jesus Christ is My Savior, but i think he was, whether a fictional figure or a real man, a righteous revolutionary and i’m down with the philosophy of the JC. i’m pretty sure that i have not lied, cheated, or stolen from anyone without asking for forgiveness any time in the recent past, i think my moral compass is compassion-centric, and i believe that i do Good Works and not only avoid but fight against Evil. in short: i believe i have good karma.

i think that’s why in my dream last night i wasn’t worried. because, hey, if the world does end tomorrow, there’s nothing i can do to stop it, and nothing i would’ve done differently about the way i live my life. i mean, i would have DONE some different things, but not changed my philosophy. i think they call this “peace of mind”, and i feel good about that.

fire dragon

FIRE DRAGON – 1916, 1976, 2036

The most righteous, outgoing and competitive of all Dragons, the Fire Dragon will expect a lot from everyone. But while he may be demanding and aggressive, he is also blessed with enormous energy and has a lot to offer in return. The trouble is that he may go around with an air of superiority plus authority and make people fear or shy away from him. His leadership qualities are often marred by his desire to be treated like the Messiah. Fire matched with his forceful lunar sign will give him overzealous and dictatorial inclinations. He pushes too hard even where there is little resistance.

In reality, he is an open and humane person given to impartiality and uncovering the truth at all costs. His criticisms are objective and he has the power to arouse the masses with his vibrant personality. A natural empire builder, he will look toward the supreme order of things, with himself at the helm, of course.

Because the Fire Dragon is often enveloped by insatiable personal ambition, he is short-tempered, inconsiderate and unable to put up with anything less than perfection. He also overgeneralizes or jumps to conclusions, frequently lumping people into categories without allowing for or even perceiving their individual differences.

Nonetheless, here is a performer of the highest degree who could easily be a source of inspiration to his fellowman and a personality who will catch the public eye – when he learns to master his negative traits and communicate more humbly with others.

in general, i do not believe in astrology as an oracle or predictor, but even so i always consider what it says in terms of whether it is true about me or not, regardless of the stars.

i like to see myself as defined in the 2nd paragraph, but am i also an egoist who jumps to conclusions?

notes this morning

i closed the laptop and sat for a moment breathing deeply

tying to keep the tears from coming

- i am fine.  this is a external problem. do not let yourself be affected. -

i have not cried about this yet, i don’t think

but suddenly this morning was the first morning i really started to feel like a martyr.

because…..why? why am i allowing this in my life?

staring at the books every day

i now have a lot of empathy for everyone who struggles to pay the rent and bills.

the stress can drive you to do things.

.::.

as i pedal past the deliverymen, construction workers, office workers

going about their days in the sterile office park

the 3 dorky guys in suits who walked against the light

right in front of a HUGE piece of construction machine driven by a mustached worker in a hard hat

as i pass i briefly see inside their heads

all of the things weighing on their minds

their children, their dogs, their houses, their bosses, their jobs, their wives, their mothers

and realize

every human is a microcosm of the universe.

mornings that bring this kind of revelation in the mundane make me feel like i’m flying.

.::.

i like clean-shaven men in black suits, white shirts, collar open.

.::.

minutes later in the park i am coming up behind a hip/pie/ster couple

walking separately, the woman in front of the man

the man, in white jogging pants and a hoodie, waving his arms, walking erratically

the woman, in a sweater and skirt and brown cowboy boots

and he is yelling.

as i pass i look over at her and she lifts her face and her curly brown hair falls over large brown eyes that remind me of the girl from Amelie

she is maybe crying, but she doesn’t look scared so i keep going

and then i hear him say, angrily, “you’re fulfilling your own prophecy!”

QOTD: “If we amplify everything, we hear nothing.”

“And now I thought we might have a moment, however brief, for some sincerity, if that’s ok; I know there are boundaries for a comedian, pundit, talker guy, and I’m sure I’ll find out tomorrow how I have violated them.

I’m really happy you guys are here, even if none of us are really quite sure why we are here. Some of you may have seen today as a clarion call for action, or some of the hipper, more ironic cats as a clarion call for ‘action.’ Clearly, some of you just wanted to see the Air and Space Museum and got royally screwed. And I’m sure a lot of you are here to have a nice time, and I hope you did. I know that many of you made a great effort to be here today, and I want you to know that everyone involved with this project worked incredibly hard to make sure that we honor the effort that you put in and gave you the best show we could possibly do. We know your time is valuable, and we didn’t want to waste it. And we are all extremely honored to have had a chance to perform for you on this beautiful space, on The Mall in Washington, D.C.

So, uh, what exactly was this? I can’t control what people think this was, I can only tell you my intentions. This was not a rally to ridicule people of faith, or people of activism, or to look down our noses at the heartland, or passionate argument, or to suggest that times are not difficult and that we have nothing to fear. They are and we do. But we live now in hard times, not end times. And we can have animus and not be enemies. But, unfortunately, one of our main tools is delineating the two broke. The country’s 24-hour, politico, pundit, perpetual, panic conflictanator did not cause our problems, but its existence makes solving them that much harder. The press can hold its magnifying glass up to our problems, bringing them into focus, illuminating issues heretofore unseen. Or they can use that magnifying glass to light ants on fire, and then perhaps host a week of shows on the sudden, unexpected, dangerous flaming ant epidemic. If we amplify everything, we hear nothing.

There are terrorists and racists and Stalinists and theocrats, but those titles that must earned; you must have the resume. Not being able to be able to distinguish between real racists and Tea Partiers, or real bigots and Juan Williams or Rick Sanchez is an insult, not only to those people, but to the racists themselves, who have put in the exhausting effort it takes to hate. Just as the inability to distinguish terrorists from Muslims makes us less safe, not more. The press is our immune system. If it overreacts to everything, we actually get sicker, and perhaps eczema. And yet, with that being said, I feel good: strangely, calmly good. Because the image of Americans that is reflected back to us by our political and media process is false. It is us through a fun-house mirror, and not the good kind that makes you look slim in the waist and maybe taller, but the kind where you have a giant forehead and an ass shaped like a month-old pumpkin with one eyeball.

So why would we work together? Why would you reach across the aisle to a pumpkin-assed, forehead, eyeball monster? If the picture of us were true, of course our inabilities to solve problems would actually be quite sane and reasonable. Why would you work with Marxists actively subverting our Constitution, or racists and homophobes who see no one’s humanity but their own? We hear every damn day about how fragile our country is, on the brink of catastrophe torn by polarizing hate. And how it’s a shame that we can’t work together to get things done. But the truth is, we do. We work together to get things done every damn day. The only place we don’t is here or on cable TV. But Americans don’t live here or on cable TV. Where we live, our values and principles form the foundation that sustains us while we get things done, not the barriers that prevent us from getting things done.

Most Americans don’t live their lives solely as Democrats, Republicans, Liberals, or Conservatives. Americans live their lives more as people that are just a little bit late for something they have to do. Often, something they do not want to do, but they do it. Impossible things every day, that are only made possible through the little reasonable compromises we all make.

Look. Look on the screen. This is where we are; this is who we are: these cars. That’s a schoolteacher who probably thinks his taxes are too high. He’s going to work. There’s another car. A woman with two small kids, can’t really think about anything else right now. There’s another car, swaying, I don’t even know if you can see it. The lady’s in the NRA and loves Oprah. There’s another car. An investment banker: gay, also likes Oprah. Another car’s a Latino carpenter. Another car a fundamentalist vacuum salesman. Atheist obstetrician. Mormon Jay-Z fan. But this is us. Every one of the cars you see is filled with individuals of strong beliefs and principles they hold dear. Often, principles and beliefs in direct opposition to their fellow travelers. And yet these millions of cars must somehow find a way to squeeze one by one into a mile-long, thirty-foot wide tunnel carved underneath a mighty river. Carved by people who by the way I’m sure had their differences. And they do it. Concession by concession. You go, then I’ll go. You go, then I’ll go. You go, then I’ll go. Oh my God, is that an NRA sticker on your car? Is that an Obama sticker on your car? Ah, well that’s okay, you go, then I’ll go. And sure, at some point there will be a selfish jerk who zips up the shoulder and cuts in at the last minute. But that individual is rare, and he is scorned not hired as an analyst.

Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light, we have to work together. And the truth is, there will always be darkness. And sometimes, the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes, it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together. If you want to know why I’m here and what I want from you, I can only assure you this: you have already given it to me. Your presence was what I wanted. Sanity will always be and has always been in the eye of the beholder. And to see you here today and the kind of people that you are has restored mine. Thank you.”

–Jon Stewart at The Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear, October 30, 2010

the state of 2010

i’m not one who believes in apocalyptic theories, whether it’s the Second Coming of Jesus Christ Our Lord or 2012: The Mayan Prophesy or even just mundane, secular, Nuclear WWIII.

but the fact that this is 2010 and

1. Arnold Schwarzenegger still holds a very high political office in the USA and

2.To replace him, two of the top winning candidates in yesterday’s CA election are extremely rich white republican WOMEN who were CEOs of HUGE CORPORATIONS (which TK calls the “Girls Gone Wild Senate Race“…ouch! oh, what does this say about the world, especially California, today? the socio-eco-politico-anthro discussion could be endless)

and

3. Ozzy Osbourne is now a health columnist for the Times of London

really sort of freaks me out in a dystopian 1984 kind of way, without even mentioning everything else.

red strings and rabbit holes

“I wonder if I’ve been changed in the night? Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I’m not the same, the next question is ‘Who in the world am I?’ Ah, that’s the great puzzle!“

- Alice, in Wonderland

i love synchronicity, even if oblique.

as posted, BadUnklSista, the butoh performance group i often dance with, is doing a 2-night production in SF this weekend @http://counterpulse.org/ , a double-bill with The Carpetbag Brigade, an unlikely composition of amazing performance artists who are currently doing an extremely mad take on Jack and the Beanstalk. while some of BUS performances are loose, organic pieces that we rehearse very little for, this one was choreographed, and because i was back east visiting my family last weekend, i wasn’t able to attend the rehearsals and therefore wasn’t able to participate as a performer. we went as audience members last night instead. jay asked afterward why i so like abstract performance art – what do i get out of it/what do i love about it? (a side topic being that i don’t think people can choose what kind of art (including music) moves them. you can try to make yourself like an art form, but really i think you either do or you don’t, n’est-ce pas?)  i can’t explain how much it moves me, every time, but i’ll try.

do you have those dreams, where nothing makes sense, you’re not even sure who/what/where, but you wake up with a feeling as though you witnessed something so deep it meant everything? i have them often, and the Carepetbag Brigade’s “You Don’t Know Jack” performance was as such, with people doing odd things with unexpected objects, saying things that on the surface sound like mad gibberish but when digested, when it all hits you as one piece, as a whole, seems so universal that it means everything.  the poetic dialogue and songs were interwoven in odd but meaningful ways, the words carefully chosen, the physicality rich and directive, and at the end i felt as if awaking from one of those dreams. i couldn’t quite grasp what had happened, but i felt changed by it.

and then, Bad Unkl Sista’s performance, which i won’t even attempt with the details. most prominently, I am completely in love with Totter Todd‘s music right now (the dark place inside that you act from but never look at/swallow your fear, swallow it whole/you’re killing yourself with your own beauty).  BUS performances are always an honest and intense look at that which we are, the pieces of ourselves which we hide, which we let eat us from the inside, and the joy at relieving ourselves from such self-inflicted prisons.  there’s a certain part of myself that i am really not liking these days (in short: judgmental, and vocally), which is often exacerbated by visiting my family, and the performance last night brought a lot of that to the surface.  i am thinking i need a long strand of red string to tie around my wrist as a reminder of a few things i need to work on for a while (in the performance, such a string was used as a representation of your fear(s), which it is suggested in both song and action that you ingest, digest, and then regurgitate into something that tastes like relief).

thank you Bad Unkl Sista for always bringing such beauty, whether i am inside it or watching from afar. there’s another performance tonight @counterpulse in SF, which i’m sure will be similar but different. if you like intensity and songs and dances and abstract dreams that seem to say almost nothing directly but mean everything, i highly encourage you to attend tonight.

what does this have to do with rabbit holes and synchronicity?  the new Alice in Wonderland opened in SF this weekend, and we have a large crew (30+) who will be going to see it tonight, many of us in costume. and while the Disney version is just fine, those who have read the original texts know that Alice in Wonderland/Through the Looking Glass are much more than childrens’ stories, and are quite philosophically intricate and more than a little bit metaphysical.  it’s obvious why the psychedelic community latched onto its metaphors.

so with all the anticipation for the new film and mind wandering in that direction for this past week, particularly visiting my mother, who has an enormous collection of Alice in Wonderland memorabilia in her dining room/living room cabinets (indeed: dolls and figurines and books and all sorts of collectors items), walking out of the performance last night felt like the start of a weekend-long visit down the rabbit hole. then after another night of intense, crazy dreams, waking up this morning, it’s true: i’m really not sure i am the same person i was when i went to sleep last night, and if not, who that means i am today.

no strings attached

i want to walk naked through the streets with you, barefoot, our bodies and minds worn clean.

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.::.
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i don’t know what i was dreaming, but those are the words that were running through my head when i woke up this morning.