pop cult

the problem of creativity\/\/making it work in the post-fordist turn

June 16, 2010
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the problem of creativity\/\/making it work in the post-fordist turn

It used to be that creativity was a big problem. Probably it’s been a problem ever since the notion of creativity was invented, in different ways for different reasons. It’s a problem now, too, but it’s a different problem than it was before. Put on your time travelin’ pants, we’re going to the past. Creativity in a time of Ford (and I don’t mean Ford Prefect) Before, back in the twentieth century & up until its last several decades the industrialized Western world had this thing called Fordism and mass production. Mass production promised things like standardization, efficiency and the democratization of consumption. The price of this promise was creativity in the workplace, and the cost was paid by workers. This is because mass production entailed de-skilling. Workers, once artisans laboring with their colleagues to craft marvelous modern contraptions such as automobiles, were stuffed into tiny boxes of standardized labor power and made to perform tiny movements in isolation from each other, over and over again, on the assembly line. Think about what kind an angry dance such a change would do to your spirit, if you were one of those workers: once a skilled craftsperson, with a skilled craftsperson

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flighty, flakey, crumbling away

June 8, 2010
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flighty, flakey, crumbling away

This isn’t my idea. Best I know it’s John Hodgman‘s, with a little help from several decades and several multi-verses of superhero comics. John Hodgman went around asking people to choose between two superpowers and explain their choice for a segment on This American Life back in 2001. And the choice (you might remember?) goes like this. You only get to pick one, and you are the only one in the world with this power: Flight, or invisibility. You could choose flight. If you choose flight, all you need is your body and you can soar, soar soar. Or you could choose invisibility, stay more grounded, scurrying and scampering unsurveilled as you carry out your pet projects, tiny revolutions and grand plans for domination. Which would you choose? Of course there are administrative details. The superpower you get is a stand-alone, not simply one aspect of a superpower variety pack. So super-strength doesn’t accompany flight and invulnerability doesn’t accompany invisibility. You’ve got to take the one you’ve got and make it work. On the bright side, you don’t have to strip down to your skivvies to get imperceptible, and you won’t catch a chill no matter how high you fly

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this week on the avant guardian \/\/ tighten up

March 8, 2010
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this week on the avant guardian \/\/ tighten up

Archie Bell and the Drells’ 1968 hit “Tighten Up” is one of a long line of American popular songs built around a dance. There are few lyrics beyond Bell’s cajoling the band and the dancers (you!).  He does claim at the beginning of the song that “we dance just about as good as we walk,” which is a pretty transporting possibility when you think about it. Apparently, Bell fought in Vietnam while the song was climbing the charts, and could only come back to tour with the band after having been shot in the leg. That’s some rich irony to live, and sing. In these “tough economic times,” we need his simple, easy-to-follow advice… and all the better if it comes with some heavy Texas soul music… Bon appetite…

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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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the eternal economy of rise and fall

December 15, 2009
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the eternal economy of rise and fall

A brief introduction to the labyrinthine metaphysics of That Which Rises Vs. That Which Falls, utilizing Greek myth, ritual magick, astrophysics and social psychology, for a perspective on catalyzing a positive personal transformation.

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gift giving (and receiving) guide for the perplexed

December 8, 2009
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gift giving (and receiving) guide for the perplexed

It’s family time.  And they’re crazy? Look no further than this coffee table book to let them know… ____________________________________________________________________________ Look for closeout prices on all of your favorite medium(s). ____________________________________________________________________________ Always bring joy and spirit, this family is sure to brighten your own dark holidays… _______________________________________________________________________ ARMY FOOD for empathy ____________________________________________________________________________________ Tis the Season to Go Green!  Give a vintage computer!

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panty doodles \/\/ an interview with lucy white

December 5, 2009
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panty doodles \/\/ an interview with lucy white

Lucy White grew up in a house with a lawn and a mother who took care of the house and father who took care of the lawn. These might be the perfect conditions for producing a laid back landscapist, but they didn’t. Lucy White’s politically centered pop art has zero to do with capturing the ephemeral beauty of the changing seasons, and everything to do with sex, violence, and commodities. Lucy White’s aesthetic is bubbly like soda pop and hot like a bullet. She makes thongs with cheeky prints of female artists on them, and (sometimes sentimental) portraits of handguns. She uses bright, hot, and vivid colors and applies her paint using band aids. When I first saw her work, I really connected to its blunt force seriality and sly references to current events. lucy’s panty doodles I met Lucy on Facebook, which seems apropos. She happily engaged with our theme of boredom, and sent us some pics of what she does when she’s bored. It turns out that Lucy is a compulsive listmaker and napkin doodler. But these fidgety meanderings, instead of being left behind on the bar, evolve into extended projects. I was really excited to talk to

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lindsay lohan \/\/ the bird with the crystal plumage

December 1, 2009
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lindsay lohan \/\/ the bird with the crystal plumage

In 1986, sperm and egg were poured together like a great mixologist’s concoction and Lindsay Lohan was conceived.  Who knew that just a couple of decades later, it would be another mixologist who intoxicated dear Lindsay and splash her face across pages and pages of pulp fiction for the bored, restless, creatively downtrodden, and excessively voyeuristic human race? Were Lindsay’s parents drunk on the possibility of birthing a social phenomenon?  Or was it purely boredom that brought about this egg/sperm dance that resulted in a troubled and ingenius mixing of genes.  The pages and pages of magazines, website articles, photo galleries, film stills and books that Lindsay has spawned can be indebted to one  solid moment in the lives of the Lohan progenitors. The brazen, multi-talented actress/pop singer/model/ PDA activist/drug user/anorexic/ hair extension advocate/Daddy-hater/ paparazzi-leech/ DUI poster child/ fashionista/ and fashion designer and muse has been the frontwoman of American sensationalism has given the world a reason to second guess stardom, fame, and self-promotion.  She is the am-I-gay-am-I-not Patty Duke of the 2000′s.  The screaming Mimi of Hollywood…The Bird with the Crystal Plumage whose veins mirror those of a crack addict’s.  Thanks to the aforementioned egg/sperm dance to the Hollywood/drugs/booze/sex

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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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