Blog Archives

i love you, i love you not\/\/the ethics of eros

March 17, 2010
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i love you, i love you not\/\/the ethics of eros

Slavoj Zizek is insane.  He is also brilliant.  In the short clip from the documentary “Zizek!” Zizek contends that love is evil.  Love is about excluding one thing to focus on another.  A part of me wants to say, right on Zizzy! but then another part wants to say, wtf, mate?! Love is exclusionary.  We shift our focus to the object or subject of our affection and in so doing we necessarily exclude other objects and subjects from our gaze.  Is this a violent act?  Is it evil, as zizzy suggests?  I think not.  Can it lead to evil?  Without a doubt. There are two ideas at play here: 1. Love is necessarily exclusionary 2. By loving one thing more than an other, we do violence to that other. I agree with zizzy on the first note, but I have to disagree with the second.  To love is not a difficult thing.  We experience the pangs of love everyday.  We are continually disappointed by the actions of others which suggests that we expect certain things from the actions of others.  We expect the world to be a kind and caring place.  If we didn’t, there would be no disappointments.  We

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branding leads to revolution via performance, or how I learned to dress like an indian and bring the british government to its knees

February 24, 2010
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branding leads to revolution via performance, or how I learned to dress like an indian and bring the british government to its knees

During the Boston massacre, six civilians were killed and six more were injured when British troops, garrisoned in Boston, opened fire on an unruly mob.  Seven of the soldiers accused of murder were acquitted.  Two were found guilty of manslaughter and branded as punishment. When I learned about this as a kid in school I had to imagine the scenario as something akin to the OJ trial.  Really, how the fuck do these guys get off!?!  When I learned that John Adams, future president of the United States and all around proponent of and friend to the colonies was the defense attorney, I kind of pulled a Kyle’s mom. Now if you’ve seen the mini-series or read the book John Adams, you’re probably saying “hold on a sec’ mister ari g.  Ol’ Johnny had a plan!  He wanted us to look civilized like the British so they would see that we were not savages!”  And I might say, sure, whatever.  That may have been his plan, but it’s not what led to the revolution and it certainly did not garner any respect from the British.  It was a concerted public performance that led to the revolution that arose out of

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avatars

February 3, 2010
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avatars

This past weekend I performed at the Patti Pace Performance Festival, in Statesboro Georgia.  Though I love to talk about my own performances, and probably will soon enough, what stood out for me at the festival was the last performance.  Rather than explain why it stood out to me, or what it was about, neither of which I have a decent answer for, I’ve compiled the following list of words and images that may give some insight to the performer’s madness.  The performer’s name is Amy Burt, and she is a communication scholar from Georgia College and State University. The first thing to note is that Burt is hilarious.  She flows back and forth between a serious tone that draws us in and forces us to listen, and a comic tone that had me, at times, falling out of my seat.  Nearly, at least. None of the images seemed poignant for the longest time.  I wanted to find meaning in it, but she didn’t seem to offer any.  We just rolled along, like a roller coaster out of control. About half-way through the performance, after the Thomas Kinkade image that frightened us all, bits began to emerge that revealed a

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the infiniteability of stories

January 20, 2010
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the infiniteability of stories

Last night at Barnes and Noble my partner and I stumbled across the book Cake Wrecks, and spent the next 15 minutes laughing to the point of tears.  Three hours later, after watching a movie we thought about the book and had another laughing attack.  It was almost unbearable.  There’s just something inordinately funny about someone doing their job to the letter of that job description.  Or maybe the cake makers were fucking with the people who requested the cake because they wrote in the wrong line.  Whatever the case, a more complex form of communication than the little cake request cards is obviously in order. It is not, I should point out, only human errors that fascinate and amuse me.  There is also something deliciously delightful about human actions made for a particular audience that end up reaching a mass audience.  Found magazine is, I think the best example of such pop-culture knick-knacks.  Reading the magazine reminds me of wandering through consignment shops, thrift stores and second-hand stores.  I’ve sent my fair share of used clothing to the Goodwill and rarely is there a piece of it that I will miss.  It might as well be going to the

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letters to the family that doesn’t matter

December 16, 2009
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letters to the family that doesn’t matter

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxDear Tiger Woods, I am writing because I don’t have a clue what the hell is going on.  I’ve heard that you were going to quit golf in order to get your life back in order.  I heard that your wife, Elin Nordegren, gave you an ultimatum — Family or Golf — and that you have accepted the ultimatum, and are taking a break from golf.  I also heard that you’ve been using performance-enhancing drugs!  Say it ain’t so, Tiger!  SAY IT AIN’T SO!!! Alright, I’m sorry, I need to calm down.  It’s just that this is all a little much.  I just want to be clear about what’s happening.  You’re going to quit the two things that you love more than anything else in this world: 1) golf and 2) sleeping with women who are not your wife…so that you can stay at home and sleep with your wife. The whole thing just seems a little much, you know? Your chances of being a role model have gone down the tubes, and now, instead of freely living the playboy life you seem to so desperately want, you’re going to give it all up so that you can present the

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grunge is dead \/\/ a treatise on “grunge” performance

October 28, 2009
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grunge is dead \/\/ a treatise on “grunge” performance

Grunge is dead. My grandmother is dead. Jackson Pollock is dead. The implications are as follows: Music that was labeled "grunge" can never again be made, my grandmother will never again pinch my cheek, and there will be no new works of art by Jackson Pollock. This is as it should be.

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