Art Stars Forever: Chaos and Gonads

World standards seem to be set by surrealists lately. Sick, sad ironies dominate the news of a metal bands pyrotechnics gone bad, foriegn diplomacy seems to have regressed back to medieval times, and Matthew Barney is an Art Star, and not just an art-star, but THE ART STAR of the moment.
While I can't say I'd found the movies as gripping as their images (in fact, Laura and I got in trouble during Cremaster5 for talking too much), he is a cult unto himself. It seems timely that we've a former northwestern linebacker plumb the subconscious of the country and throw it back in a weird series of films, anthropormophic oddities and sculptures that basically revolve around the muscular function of the testicles. Probably because we're done with the old irony... found objects... we're now ready for the alien that looks at us and tells us what we really are - strange creatures with undeveloped desires, crawling over histories that are both magnificent and horrible.
If you're in New York - go see at the Gugg...

Belly of an Apologist

Today, I took my stomach for a walk. Yes, the return of the gut problems that plagued me 2 years ago have seemed to have returned. I've been feeling a heavy sunk feeling in my gut for the past 2 weeks, very reminiscient of my awful bout of bad digestion which seemed to last a year. I have no idea why this has returned other than stress, stress about the pending war, job, and a dismal future seem to be giving me reason to not digest my meals properly. It sits in my stomach like an acidic child hating me, hating my choices. I'm responsible for all the ills of human kind. A group of students from Central were doing documentary work on the bus today. They all had a camera and were asking me questions about the Japanese internment and institutional racism. I stuttered, gagged on words while trying to recount why the govt decided in the 40's to violate the constitutional rights of Japanese Americans. I felt like I was naked. I didn't like being filmed going through the bus tunnels and me trying to give my definition of 'institutional racism'. Great. Somewhere there will be a telling moment of me trying to define institutional racism and wording it badly. Again, I am responsible for all ills that have been wrought. I am the foreign policy that messes up lives, causes small tribes to kill each other, and later becomes a nasty world conflict that people do not want to engage in. My breath is the monopolizing breath of an ugly beast who consumes 3 tubs of cottage cheese a week, wastes about so much kg's of power a day, exerts nothing, learns nothing and ultimately falls asleep while watching past episodes of "6 Feet Under". If an asteroid hit earth and made us extinct, would they dig up my bones and bill me as a fearsome monster? The monsters in my stomach stir and look a day when, like that awful scene in Alien, they can pop out and start shopping.

Bee Mine

Well, tomorrow is the day that reinforces all that was left of our idyllic, genteel and romantic notions of love, wrought from a pagan festival and then consumed by the greeting card industry in an attempt to help you reconcile all faults with your significant other for just one special night. Or perhaps it serves as a sore reminder to your current single status and the steady stream of surrogates you've had since the last big one broke your heart. Or perhaps it's a simple holiday to indoctrinate small children into the pains of relationships, symbolic exchanges and ultimately (gulp) rejection (sending every last one of us to some therapy session or talk show where we blindly look into the camera and say "I thought I had it all figured out"). Or perhaps it's just a simple holiday to celebrate simple love, if it exists...

Ralphie:'''Let's Bee Friends.' It says 'bee' and has a picture of a bee on it!''

Wall of Sound

Move over Michael Jackson, the original Mad King Ludwig of Pop - Phil Spector was arrested... People do not seem to be suprised, almost thinking this Sunset Blvd like descent one that was about 30 years in the making. Lest we forget that Be My Baby was a wonder moment in pop, it also was sung with songbird rage by Ronnie Spector, who would later find herself captive in his castle herself for quite a few years. This will be one interesting biopic if anyone chooses to make it.
In any case - gotta run, but before I do - I want to design my own librador...

Drive My Car Into the Ocean

Nightcharm's David K has some insightful things to say on his website about post-9/11 angst and existential crisis/opportunity. Read it now before it goes away... I will have to read the Paglia article if it's as good as he says - but he does certainly draw up a few interesting points about this culture making a huge paradigm shift. We are changed after something like that - but unfortunately I don't see us evolving or growing from this experience any time soon. And we can't get over it. As a culture - we're sick with worry and sick with want - 2 tastes that go great together... We want things to be all-right. We also feel a fleeting impermanence and so we want them fabulous. And yet - Irony is no longer cutting it - and at the same time, trying to adopt the new sincereity is a contradiction in terms. We want it all - yet, we don't. Things seem confusing, distorted, larger or smaller - unreal, hyperreal or just plain awful. So we shrink back into holly-hobby enthusiasm for gardening and watch reality-tv to validate our moral superiority. We laugh at our corner of the world - or someone elses corner (Ozzy Osbourne's), and go under some other medication (big escapist movies that feature music, lights and plenty o jazz hands)... And, and.... And. Uhhhhh... Uhhmmmm....


Where was I?


Oh yeah - nevermind that I heard rumor of a musical coming to the screen about the greatest band ever - THE PIXIES. Here's the dish by a correspondent for KEXP's John in the Morning: Will Bryant reports: This week's Entertainment Weekly reports that New York writer/producer Josh Frank is working on a musical based on the life of Frank Black. Frank has reportedly discussed the project with former Pixies Joey Santiago, David Lovering, and Black himself, who was initially quite amused at the prospect until he realized that Frank, who most recently assisted on a production of the Janis Joplin-inspired musical Love, Janis, was serious. The musical, entitled "Teenager of the Year," would follow the entire career trajectory of the Pixies and include songs both from that period and from Black's solo career. The article does not mention any involvement from
Pixies bassist Kim Deal (even though it would kill to see Lili Taylor portray the younger Mrs. John Murphy).
Josh Frank describes "Teenager of the Year" as "sort of a beat poem to the 80's [and] how alternative rock crashed the mainstream party." The project follows extremely successful musicals based on the output of ABBA ("Mamma Mia") and Culture Club ("Taboo"), but is apparently the first full-blown musical biography to take on a legend of alternative rock. Frank hopes to open the show next spring Off Broadway. And you thought you were so cool, singing along to Surfer Rosa with the windows down as you jammed down the freeway, when the whole time you were belting out showtunes!
Get those jazzhands going for "Tony's Theme"....

I just finished the beeb's Gormenghast series on DVD (rented from Netflix). Castle drama's and anachronisms usually don't interest me much (I grew up watching the smurfs, so Hamlet doesn't shock me in it's political intrigue), but this story (adapted from the book after the 2nd world war) was funny, absurdist and bizarre. Essentially a thin allusion to decaying aristocracy and the rise of fascism.
The acting was over the top - but probably in line with the fantasmic characters. The set design alone is worth seeing it - having equal parts pre-raphealite pretty and Jeunot-brothers creepiness.

While this country dwells on Football and War, let's take a moment to ponder a service that attempts to send telegrams in the afterlife. Either the most visionary or novel scam, they do back up their service with no guarantees, other than their terminally ill messenger will do their best. Even more intriguing - their FAQ reads as a surreal primer for the afterlife, their advice for their messengers even more surreal: Make contact with the first intelligent person you find and request advice as how best to complete your task. By "person" we mean not only people such as you, who once lived on earth as humans, but anyone else who might be helpful. There might be other entities, such as angels, spirits, demigods or fairies, that are indigenous to the afterlife and who might be willing to help you. Animals, such as dogs, dolphins, apes, etc... might be inclined to help as well.
The agnostic in me finds the realm of possibility fascinating - but I don't think I'd want to entrust my afterlife messages to anything lower on the food chain. I'm sure there's alot of karmic resentment and thus, it would be pretty awkward.