(forest says of jenny throwing stones at her abusing father's house)
imitations of life # 1 : who are you...
Imitations of Life : Modern Humans imitating the media/Tv/glossy mags which imitate an imaginary world of human life - air-brushed and censored to suit the social and political climate - which in turn is loosely based on Actual human Life based in the Spectacular. The resulting situation is one where life imitates an imitation of Life...
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So Who exactly do You think You are? Forest Gump?
girl in gaza...
by now most of the words that can be said have been said, most of the hopes that can be hoped have been hoped, most of the motives seem to be known and most of the perpetrators are clear to see - on both sides... and so nothing remains then but a vacuum, a black hole into which we sling our phrases and actions again and again; but not quite for there are people in that vacuum, living feeling hoping dreams to grow up and be a doctor or a teacher or a musician or a fireman or a clown, or just to grow up and live yes live in some kind of unimagined yet life and who owns what land which god said what to who really doesn't figure all that much in the mind of a ten year old as the flash of bomb or shell or mortar explodes and in that last blind white light moment its scared and pain she feels.*
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stop the bombs.
marks of the stigmata # 1.
Is the Anorexic not the true Ascetic of competitive capitalism ?
Like the ascetics of the Ganges who wander naked ?
Unconscious insane Acts of penance to remind the rest of their guilt and complicity.
a sad memory...
this note was written in 2007, presumably so that i'd come back to it - a strange contextless message in a bottle written from a past self to a future self, it does still resonate though :"late last night (19th may) a speeding police car hit and killed a 16 year old girl on the street. the car was driving without lights late at night. in the ensuing dispute a taser gun was used and a male arrested..."
The Smoker in the 21st Century...
"You're like lepars to me" were the first words that my new boss greeted me with after first inquiring as to whether or not I smoked cigarettes. "I'm sorry.?" i asked quite stunned at this out burst of bile. "You, you smokers..." he said simply waving his hand judiciously as if the subject were now closed. "Here's your room" he said showing me into the small room, "you can smoke but i'd rather that you didn't, it would make me happy you know..."
I closed the door, sat down on the old office chair with the stuffing coming out at the broken seams, opened a by now warm can of cider and lit a cigarette.
In the 21st Century the smoker has become an accepted target of random abuse even by strangers. This being caused by the terrible secondary smoke representing an absolutely irresponsible attitude towards ones fellow man (even if they consider you a lepar..) and disregard even for ones own health : all in all filthy ashtrays of people who cough and weeze their way to an early grave.
Ah, and that grotesque pleasure that a non-smoker can take in telling a smoker how they are sure to die early and in great pain... how reassuring, the old electric shock therapy, the unpitying rod to save the child... or else a channel for that frustrated impotency of non-doing.
The sad irony is that many of these anti-smokers do not seem fully happy or self aware unless they are in the actual process of berating a smoker, and will sit moodily sulking while other employees take a cigarette break complaining of how they work an extra five minutes each day... so even their treasured and massively longer life span isn't enough?
Well, I mused to myself as i sat smoking that first cigarette in the beat up old hotel room, I could always comfort myself with the thought that non-smokers die every day...
Sweet dreams.
The Illusion and Reality of Scarcity... third mall from the sun...
Promoting the concept and reality of scarcity to create a frenzied environment within which the actions of the consumer become more and more like the reflex movements of animals in the wild through which the human is assimilated into the overwhelming commercial environment.
An environment which increasingly plays on the deep rooted age old tendancies that have their origins in the pre-historic swamps. Humans being reduced to the level of algae seeking sunlight.
The death of art.
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