Busy Bees Knees

Despite a knee that forces me to hobble occasionally, I just had an overactive weekend. Saturday my sister visited and it was a perfect day to stop by Coney Island's Mermaid Parade.

There were a lot of fishy nudes writhing about the streets, to the point of what I would call "boob exhaustion". Still, it was great to see so many people having a wonderful time, or even better, making a good time. I am quite proud to consider Brooklyn my home. There's still enough freaks here to make a good party and not feel like Disney World. It's a shame that Coney Island could be destroyed any day now. Death is an inevitability and this small ocean view area may be the last haven for New York's vitality. To have it demolished is to flatten out a beautiful (and... not so beautiful) culture.

A Bow to Low Brow

Yes, I saw Poultrygeist last night. It's low-brow, offensive, and idiotic. It's also really good. If John Waters were a machismo director interested in horror films, it would look something like this. That's not to take anything away from the team at Troma Films, who made not only this movie but the unusually awesome Toxic Avenger franchise.

Without even dipping deep into this finger licking (then vomiting) plot, I'll just say that there's a lot of Chicken-Zombies, projectile vomiting, bathroom disasters, musical numbers, and cringe inducing sex acts.

If you love Ed Wood, B-Movies, or Slasher flicks, this is for you.

The Career Sludge

On an unusually personal note, I lost my job as a freelancer at Victoria's Secret yesterday. This happened just minutes after I sent word of me putting in my resignation. There's no serious loss, but still a minor disappointment of being let go. Today is my last day and I start work as a staffed web designer just across the street at Random House in two weeks. I look forward to Random House because, after three interviews, I know everyone I'll be working with and they all seem great.

There was surprise from my coworkers about my firing from Victoria's Secret. The coworker I share a space with, Josh, is using my calm apathy to my firing and developing it into a comedic sketch for his improv class. I do take some of these events with a grain of salt. I prefer not to be someplace I'm not wanted and once I disconnect from a place or person, my indifference is hard to shake.

"Neural Buddhists"

I just want to point out a column by David Brooks of The New York Times entitled Neural Buddhists.

In it Brooks writes about the changing landscape of science versus the spiritual. A decade ago science would look towards tangible reasons for the actions of human emotion or the psyche. Atoms existed at the base of our being, with chemicals and neurons dictating how we behave. There was no free will and science ultimately (intentionally or not) set out to disprove god.

Apparently, things have changed. Rather than the brain being considered as a computer, it's viewed as an idiosyncratic organ. Things such as love and belief are crucial to brain development. Also, our genes aren't only set up for self-survival but "instincts for fairness, empathy and attachment" as well.

The last two paragraphs sum up as follows:

In their arguments with Christopher Hitchens and Richard Dawkins, the faithful have been defending the existence of God. That was the easy debate. The real challenge is going to come from people who feel the existence of the sacred, but who think that particular religions are just cultural artifacts built on top of universal human traits. It’s going to come from scientists whose beliefs overlap a bit with Buddhism.

In unexpected ways, science and mysticism are joining hands and reinforcing each other. That’s bound to lead to new movements that emphasize self-transcendence but put little stock in divine law or revelation. Orthodox believers are going to have to defend particular doctrines and particular biblical teachings. They’re going to have to defend the idea of a personal God, and explain why specific theologies are true guides for behavior day to day. I’m not qualified to take sides, believe me. I’m just trying to anticipate which way the debate is headed. We’re in the middle of a scientific revolution. It’s going to have big cultural effects.

A realization of the sacred without dogma. I see this as a hopeful theological perspective for the future. Sometimes I think modernism went too far to destroy eternal principles. When religion and political revolution failed, I feel like people have been picking up the pieces for decades. Post-modernism has at times been the movement of historical disappointment. Perhaps we can finally move forward.

Similar Artist

Given that I named this blog "Art in Text", it's funny how little visual "art" I cover. Perhaps it's the result of ADD or just a yearning for experience.

Anyway, I caught sight of an artist who I really identify with. Since we do similar looking art, I suppose that's inevitable. Her name is Silvia Bächli and she just had a show at Peter Freeman.

Bellow are some samples:

The Scavengers

Saturday was Metro Metro's annual New York City Scavenger Hunt. This year it took place within the area of Central Park.

I was in one of sixty-five groups of four (thanks to teammates Michael, Meredith, and Taylor). It began at 9 o'clock and went until 4:30. It was brutal, but surprising given all of the history to be found within Central Park. I've been to the park a number of times, but quickly realized my visits were superficial. As in any area of New York, every step on every block has a hundred stories. The hunt revitalizes history with the pomp of costumes and good natured play.

Following the hunt (and a nap) Metro Metro throws a big party with ziti and free drinks. However, it was after all this hullabaloo that I left New York's History and became part of a contemporary cultural event; a house party. At around 1 am James and I arrived at a multi-floored, multi-apartment party in Williamsburg. I danced, I drank some more, and didn't leave until 4:30 in the morning. It was a very long, exciting day.

Vampires have feelings, too.

It's film focus time in New York City as the Tribeca Film Festival slogs along through the weekend. Normally, despite being somewhat of a cinephile, this festival has never really turned me on. It's just too difficult to view films unless you have ridiculously advanced notice or ties to the industry. The crowds, however positive they may be for smaller productions, also deter me from seeing other independent movies that may otherwise be playing without the theatrics.

However, I was fortunate enough to get two free V.I.P. tickets to see a film by Swedish director Tomas Alfredson called Let the Right One In.

Let the Right One In is an unusual mix of adolescent love story, coming of age tale, and Vampire horror. The story centers around Oskar, a lonely twelve year-old boy who lives in a working class area of Stockholm. He's bullied violently and spends his nights reading about murders. His other activities include stabbing trees while imagining they're his torturers receiving necessary revenge.

A "father and daughter" soon move in unannounced in the apartment next to Oskar's. Eli, the new girl, and Oskar quickly engage in conversation and become friends. However, the relationship is made complicated by the fact that Eli is a vampire. Her adult male caretaker also targets boys in order to feed Eli's blood lust.

Somehow the story is told in a way that gore turns to dark comedy or heartwarming instances. You'll squirm, you'll giggle, and then go "awww" just as a victim goes lifeless (or limbless, headless, etc..).

This movie has little exposure, but if you get the chance please go see it.

The Compressing World

It sure has been a long time since I've posted. This should be surprising between all the reading I've been doing, the Whitney Biennial, the Armory Show, the Murakami exhibit.

While these events keep my interest, the larger world has been compressing into a narrow scope and I'd like reflect on them. No one reads this thing, so I'll let it be my open soapbox.

The China Issue
The protests in China and everywhere the Olympic torch travels has been big international news. Every video I see of a protester leaping towards the Olympic torch I go breathless, hoping the flame goes out. China views these protests despicable, claiming that politics shouldn't get in the way of this sports event. This, in my mind, makes the political workings of China more obvious.

Nazis Germany was the first country to come up with the torch idea. It was a political move intended to display Germany's power and place in the world. Can we imagine it's any different for China, the world's new superpower? We have a rich communist country which covers up any bad deeds, has deplorable human rights, and supports governments that engage in genocide. China has not only done questionable things to Tibetans, but they're trade partners with Sudan. They help fund the genocide in Darfur.

With China being so unapologetic, why isn't there more outrage? It certainly doesn't help that China not only helps Sudan, but our Iraq War is being put on credit from the Chinese government. Bush doesn't want to slam his main lender when we can't pay them off.

It's clear to me that the only way we can, in a local sense, clean our hands of this mess is to speak up and learn more. We shouldn't buy so many products from China, though with our dollar dropping value Chinese goods won't be as cheap as they used to be. I would like to see America boycott the Olympic Games Opening, though a full boycott would be excessive and unfair to athletes who normally don't get much attention. If anything, we should be participating and engaging in subtle rebellion. We should win metals and, while being on our podium, speak a message that deplores inhumanity. That's what the Olympics should represent.

Details on the "Genocide Olympics" / New York Times "Monks Disrupt Media Tour in China"

The ??? Years War
The slippery slope of the Iraq War continues. Commander Petraeus, despite being in this battle for five years, has absolutely no idea how long it will take before we can reduce our troop numbers. By his plan, he needs forty-five days before he can even begin to think about what to do in Iraq. Then, after a "period" of reflection, he'll be able to assess what is happening in Iraq and create a strategy for.... who knows???

Again, people should be angry. If it takes months to figure out the most broad strategies, we have a horribly bureaucratic military. It seems as though the United States were able to do so much more with so much less in World War II.

Meanwhile, Iraq has close ties with Iran. Iran is enriching uranium.

The world is small, confusing, largely self serving and wrong. I can't stop watching it and hope for some opportunity to engage and change it. Perhaps I need to get involved in politics.

Petraeus analysis and detail on NPR.

Reviewing the Already Reviewed

I generally don't like to write about what has already been written, especially when it's to the point of exhaustion. However, I'll turn some attention to a couple must-see things I've recently witnessed and do my best to maneuver some new content between the lines.

In order of appearance, I finally went to the Kara Walker show at The Whitney this past weekend (picture from The New York Times).
While aware of Walker's work for years, this was actually the first time I've seen those graphic large scale paper cut-outs. They are rich visually, in content, in being able to disturb, and in having a cartoon whimsy. Walker is fixated on racism in America and she's managed on crafting something which is both beautiful and ugly (at least in her best work). Some of her paintings and drawings serve more as an ugly function and while they don't offer as much of a gut-hitting experience, they do show an artist full of creative discontent. Racism is alive, and Kara Walker isn't afraid to take that difficult fact and kick you in the teeth with it.

Next Up: There Will Be Blood

I wasn't sure what to expect when I finally got to see this picture. Yes, the trailers looked promising and I had been a follower of Paul Thomas Anderson's other work (though not an avid one). Attempts to see the movie the first week of its release was a frustrating experience. It had gotten its Golden Globe nominations while it was playing in just one theater in New York City. It struck me as a poor way to circulate a film, but I digress.

Those packed theaters were completely warranted. In what has been a year of some fantastic movies, this was an excellent way to end the year (or begin this new one). The story, obviously, has its connection between blood and oil. One will kill to protect such a thing and one will overlook his own blood (as in son) to acquire every last drop of it. It's in the character of Daniel Plainview that this story digs into dark territory. Plainview, a much more complicated character than I've seen played out in years, is a mix of Travis Bickle and Charles Foster Kane. Despite being crude and having very few opportunities handed to him, Plainview is full of cunning. This, and his awareness of the human condition, only makes him want to destroy and exploit all of those around him. Somehow, despite his chilling deeds, we also see someone that is still enjoyable. Plainview isn't completely without compassion, he just lacks any when he needs it most. Sprinkle in a few slimy characters and God and I found myself at one of the best American movies I've ever seen. Please go and buy a ticket for it now.

The Brigade of Brooklyn

To greet me at my L-train stop was an usual parade seen above. There was a brigade of children marching to the orders of a drill Sargent, each of them carrying a different flag. I found this fascinating as well as frightening and, judging by the gawking audience of hipsters or artsy youths, they were thinking what I was thinking. Pacing back and forth, I wasn't sure what to do or what to make of it. Granted, I could be quite ignorant about the whole thing since I couldn't read the Spanish on the banner in front of them, but this wasn't the only authoritative group. Ahead of this under-developed camouflaged battalion was a group of mounted police officers, behind it was a line of veterans. After a moment's consideration, I hurried alongside the parade and tried to get home as quickly as possible. It was only after a block I noticed a new entry in these unusual festivities.

An older man was spotted skipping along with a stroller. His appearance was a rainbow of colors and his stroller contained a dog which matched his personality. I had seen this character a couple of times before around Herald Square, but never gave him the proper credit he deserves. In this setting he was a savior; a reminder to all the other stiff faces that life doesn't have to be so contained by discipline and order. He was a different force in a sea of the same. It was his intent to tear down this parade with a smile and a prance. With all the people who grinned at his presence, I think he proved his point. The police in front of him did nothing.

Living as an Artist in the Empire.

It must have been a slow news day today...

On my routine trip to work this morning I got a sight at a few surprising words on the cover of AM New York. The title read "Starving For Artists: Pricey city forcing out creative talent". For such a superficial and widely circulated paper, it was unusual to see (what I would deem) such a marginal concern for this city.

While the article was very short, as in no more space for content than they made for the picture on the front page, it did lend some interesting facts about artists' economic contribution ($21.1 billion) as well as taxes, wages, accelerating costs of rent, etc. Even though there is this small monetary contribution from artists, the article states that an artist's main gift to his residence is "relevant culture". Without creative types, New York will be "dramatically less interesting".

I can't argue with the stance made by the writer, David Freelander. So why did I say this was a marginal concern for this city? The answer is, "too little, too late" Over a decade ago artists were getting pushed out of Manhattan proper. Since they settled in areas like Williamsburg, they were still close enough to the skyscrapers of Manhattan to not feel too far away from their old homes. However, over the years, developers naturally went where artists went. New York artists were like an Urban Bedouin tribe. It's unfortunately just gotten to the point of being ridiculous.

As I've been looking to other cities to call home and get a more-friendly arts atmosphere, I don't view this metropolitan exodus with the same fright as the paper does. Freelander is writing as a cultural representative of the city, where I and most artists just feel like self contained representatives of ourselves. Our identities are not fixed to any single geography, at least not like they were in Montmartre when Apollinaire was alive. Where ever we go, there we are.

This could be an amazing thing for the American landscape. Creative folks from big cities are moving to small areas which may not get often that kind of exposure. New communities can form and grow which were previously stunted by financial oppression. In a world seemingly spinning out of control, perhaps the most positive thing I see in the future is this expansive geographic network of artists. Creative types no longer see city life as the end-all-be-all of cultural growth and stabilization.