16 August 2007
So like did Russ Meyer get into a fist fight with Johnny Rotten in 1977 or what?
I think Russ Meyer is a paradigm. For what? Well, I'm not exactly sure how to phrase it, but I think it's how I want to live my life, at least inside the Hotboxed Jetta.
Just what is it about Russ Meyer that's so captivating? For one thing, his hedonism has a psychological depth and avant-saviness that really distinguishes it from the rest of the dredge. Some have called him the Fellini of the sex-industry. I don't think that's too far off. Let's examine some facts and statements. "I love big-breasted women with wasp waists. I love them with big cleavages," says Meyer. "I always had a tremendous interest in big tits." And, "I'd rather play cards if I can't have a lady with big tits." In an interview with the NY Times, Meyer claimed that while he was working as an army photographer in France during WWII Ernest Hemingway took him on his first visit to a whorehouse. During the same war, Meyer photographed the regiment of British soldiers sent on a suicide mission which became the premise of The Dirty Dozen (yeah Lee Marvin), and some of his wartime footage can be seen in Patton. In the 70s, Meyer was supposed to direct a film scripted by Rogert Ebert and starring the Sex Pistols, called Who Killed Bambi?, but production ended on the first day when he couldn't pay the electric bill.
Okay, so what the hell am I getting at? Sure, it's well and good to say that Meyer is the oversexed version of Fellini, being as all his films are dreams visions. Wet dream visions. But there's something more. Meyer is also the oversexed version of Forrest Gump, with a sick oeuvre to back up his case. He rode the wave of history, thru war, love, and counterculture, and metamorphosed all the time. His fingerprint is on the Paris avant-garde, the documentation of WWII, 60s sexual lib, and more.
What's more? Meyer's celluloid wet dreams are at the vanguard of postmodern kitsch. In Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!, his narrative and visual reference points embrace roadshow sexploitation, psychodrama, crime drama, noir, and Steinbeck. But his appropriation isn't homage in the sense of the neo-noir contemporary to his work. Nor is it completely ironic in the sense of parody. What could he parody? The settings of the film aren't of the past, where he could dish on the outdatedness of say Dwain Esper or Fritz Lang. No, they're entirely contemporary. Faster, Pussycat! isn't about opium dens or midnight diners, it's rooted in go-go crazy-bop mid-60s So-Cal.
I mean, Jon Waters is ironic kitsch parody. His films appropriate a style owing to a time and place, but they condescend to that world and palette. For something more verite, we have to go back earlier than Jon Waters. And that's Russ Meyer, who appropriates, or rather accepts what is already appropriated, and believes that this is the scope of the real world around him.
So Meyer is essentially addressing how people who act socially prescribed roles (go-go dancers cum gangster molls, or anyone in the Modern Era) self-consciously but automatically invest their lives in cultural tropes received through the contemporary sociohistorical milieu. It's reflexivity without the act of ironic comment. Basically Meyer is depicting the Postmodern Era, wherein everyone subscribes to their social role but realizes that it's just a role but is incapable of imagining a cast of characters or cultural vocabulary other than this. It's really post-Sartre. It's not irony, because there's no distance between the comment and what's being commented on, the point of reference is the frame of reference. So what is it? That's the genius of Russ Meyer.
15 August 2007
its gettin l8 in the summer, bout the time i start gettin anxious bout the dwindlin time, so im real particular now the way i spend my nights and shit. yo chez, you remember that guy mickey orourke who went to st bede, like a year ahead of us? well my gurl ashley is roommates with his girl, so we kinda been spendin offhand evenings with them and there friends. like a bunch of goofy alt indie kids or whatever. so early tonite ashley and i are just chillin in this dank apartment in oakland (seriously dank, we h-boxed the shit out of that joint tonite, only chill part of the occasion, right) with this weird guy and his crew of freaky chicks, and the they all decide they wanna watch "something sexy." these r the kinda kids who git there cocks and cunts tinglin whenevr some bud growin in their veins, like there vas deferns just cant hold there cum for a second even once they get on. okay, whatever. im like, fire up yer laptop and dl some bangbros. this kid mickey just laughs, thinks im sarcastic. he starts goin threw this stack of dvds and finds one and starts squealin wit delight like some dicked up cummin ho. (in case u cant tell, i dont like this bro.) girls corroborate his sentiment. he pops it in, tells us its called "Slaves in Bondage," "some campy 30s sexploitation film." aight. so we start viewin the film, and its just a buncha flabby cunts wit saggin tits and thunder thighs. maybe a dress slips off a little or a naked back is shown, but its so tame, even for the 30s. but mickey and his girls are lovin it. "it's so deco chic!" say Mickey. the girl hes fingerin is like, "These women are really Rubenesque. SO beautiful." neway the girls were high as shit and got real hot and starting feelin each other up and eventually went to hook up in the other room. so me and ashley just went into the bathroom and fucked doggie.
like whatever, judge me. but i aint wastin another night before i gotta go back and hit the accounting books at IUP. fuck you, its the life my dad wants for me.
14 August 2007
Anyway, I'm not some bookworm version of Seaweed who's going to impose his culture on the proverbial Amanda Bines, so I figured I'd do best just to freak Nutmunchen's shit out of the store. That right there was totally your style of allusion, Snail, totally contemporary, but totally on. Despite how much I effing hate you right now for being a hard ass, I have to give you that. Anyway, I'm not going to let your threats waste any more of my time, so I'll just go and listen to Schumann's cello concerto right now. WQED is sweet. Peace.
P.S. Yeah, Nietzsche's all right, but people shouldn't mistake his cue and start deconstructing the TAO and meshing it with pop culture. I think Nutmunchen has this poster up in his room at the ΚΔ house, doesn't he? So jejune.
To Boldly Go
"to boldly go" or
"to go boldly" ?
(Not to or To Not, 86)
a good example
18 April 05, p. 14
“I’m moving to
instead of a few complicated ones
as forcing modern residents of
to wear laurels and togas
An isolating language
building meaning around
many simple words
The lack of those two letters (u and i)
can be considered a special dialect?
There is nothing so plonkingly dull.
I really shouldn’t have to do this.
The origin of life is the origin of the English language.
No one has ever heard a language change.
Children would not understand their parents;
civilization would collapse.
So there's no one who saw it happen,
(I’m not making this up),
then these cretins come along.
The Mesopotamians did it before the Chinese…
That, and there are at least three ways to say anything.
These are the voyages
to seek out new life and new civilizations,
to boldly go where no man has gone before.
And now what I originally wanted to write.
For dudes only:
Get educated. Check out No. 13.
Alright Snail, here's one for you. I know you're into Wolfe (you're so Radical Chic) and that proves how out of touch you are with Cheswick and myself. We're trying to elevate the cultural and literary discourse and you're too busy jacking off to the sex scenes in I Am Charlotte Simmons in your bedroom with the music turned up so your parents can't hear. According to Wikipedia, Wolfe is also an atheist. I don't know why that's relevant--I mean I can get hip to Richard Dawkins and Bertrand Russell and I'm totally lapsed--but you probably have some sophomoric fetish for atheists in white suits. Who said, "This isn't literature, this is entertainment?" Well, it was John Updike and he said that about The Bonfire of the Vanities. How 'bout 'dem pigeon feathers?
13 August 2007
So I'm working at Caliban Books this afternoon, and with all the summer bumpkins strolling along the Craig Street promenade, it's like a quiet but steady flow of traffic into the place. At some point this total beefneck clyde rolls in, looks at me sideways beneath his backward Kappa Delta baseball hat, and asks me, "Hey, bro, do you guys have any books by Frederick Neetchee?" And I say, "Yeah, in the philosophy section, fifth row, alphabetical by author," like right off the top of my head because I'm just that good. Then I watch him stare at the spines for about five minutes, and then he lumbers back up to the counter with four or five books in his hand. "Hey, I found a couple. This one is an anthology of his writings, which might be cool, like a sampler, ya know? This one is called The Gay Science, which must be like an indie experimental work, and I'd prefer something major. The Birth of Tragedy, now this one kind of strikes my interest. Do you have any suggestions, dude?" And I just flip my shit at the guy. I practically scream, "The Birth of Tragedy??? Are you serious? Nietzsche's Romanticism in that book was obsolete even when it was first published! He spent the rest of his life trying to subvert the philosophical assumptions underlying that work! No one should read this!" And I grabbed it and tossed it on the clearance rack. The guy was pretty flustered at first, but then became really pissed, and was like, "It's because of asshole snobs like you that people don't get interested in philosophy and literature," and then bolted out the door and probably went home to watch the NFL network, haha.
08 August 2007
These are prefabricated texts. Total exoterica. The knowledge of humankind cross-referenced in infinitely complex patterns. The logic of nonsense is unlimited freedom of articulation that ultimately reveals itself in deceptively circular movements. The Internet's recycling plant. A rhetorical orgy.
handles all subjects and
is updated on Fridays.
expelled from the body of its mother.
In my family we like to tell
your birth story
before your birthday. Join the Misery Boutique
mailing list. A successful box-office production
by Stanley Kramer and director Fred Zinnemann.
Noon Yachts SA,
luxury & beauty yachts manufacturer in
Caroline, that is a beautiful dress you are wearing.
An unsurpassed accomplishment or statistic.
The body of archaeological evidence.
Many fans suspect Bonds may have used
to power that record.
The chances of your private health
Information being used for something
you would disapprove of are: 50%.
has got the entire healthcare industry
to download the 3M Coding
White Paper. Hallelujah.
What are the communities of practice?
Remember me will store a cookie on your computer.
abnormal electrical activity
in the brain
causes involuntary change
in body movement
2.7 million Americans.
defined the aim of
Any sexually active person can be infected with gonorrhea.
Serious complications that cause irreversible damage.
Abstain from sex (i.e., oral, vaginal, or anal sex).
Though male latex condoms are highly effective,
slippage rates are usually more costly.
Irate when she discovers
the author has killed a celebrity.
You've got to write my obituary, you know.
Infertility can occur silently.
06 August 2007
01 August 2007
***Bobby "NutCracker" Mcnutt***
i'm so stoked to meet you because you're into Hegel!! Even though you trashed me on basing my political values on Marx, i think this is a disagreement that's easily resolvable, Harper. i mean, Marx was SO heavily indebted to Hegel as the basis of his dialectical system, man! You got to remember that. Capitalism, the business elite, and the bourgeois middle class are the thesis in the West, Harper, whether you want to believe it or not. Not like i'm going to write my thesis on capitalism, but it's the dominant trend, you know? Anyway, it's got us clutched at the throat. Then the proletariat and social revolution, BOTTOM UP, are the antithesis. In our times, with utter ridiculous media saturation, the revolution WILL be televised, probably on YouTube, haha. The synthesis is a classless society, i.e. civilization sans social hierarchies. Not like i need to give you a crasher on Marxist ideology, Harper, but a point is to be stressed. Marx is the natural outgrowth of Hegel in the world of economics, IMO.
This gives me a really cool idea for a political cartoon. Two American intellectuals are arguing Hegel against Marx in a coffee shop, a real Socratic dialectical dialogue, maybe the one man is rich and the other is poor, then they come to a sudden agreement, SYNTHESIS!!, and the bomb crisis is averted, and they just throw back a couple of draughts in that bar from Cheers. Beantown, you know, right Harper?
Catch you again real soon, in another setting, hopefully.
31 July 2007
--My favorite book on the Dutch Golden Age is An Embarrassment of Riches by Simon Schama
--My girlfriend is bisexual too (kindred spirits)
--Marx is flawed Chez, too many glaring errors in his philosophy
--My favorite contemporary journalist is Robert Novak
--My favorite author is Joyce Carol Oates
--I once ate a duck raw (don't ask)
--Finally, Lorence T. Blumpkin sux
1) Just call me Chez.
2) i'm a poli sci/philosophy double major at Pitt.
3) i intern at Bank of America; i'm a marketing consultant. basically, when any client or investor contacts the firm, i check up on their credentials and let the managers know about their investment history and stuff like that. this job is a little more corporate than i would like; i'm more of a theory-wonk, and i'd rather be working on my latest manifesto right now, but i need the work-related experience. really, a comrade has to infiltrate the cogs of the machinery to have an effect. i'm heavy into Marx, especially the 1834 manuscripts, but to be honest i consider myself a rigorous Trotskyite. still, i'm not a weirdo. i want to effect change in society, and i'm not opposed to working amidst evil to dispel evil, basically.
4) i'm hardcore straight-edge (sXe).
5) Let's see...Really all i watch now is PBS art history programs and Stan Brakhage films (Pittsburgh Trilogy is sick).
6) i moonlight at Caliban books (Craig Street, Oakland) on the weekends and at the Waterworks Tommy Bahama on summer weeknights. Come hang out with me some night if you want to enjoy some really deep discussion. at either place i'm the guy who plays Minor Threat, really early Dylan (i.e. live at the Gaslight), and Joy Division on the store speakers.
7) During the semester i work for the 2008 Presidential campaign of Congressman Dennis Kucinich.
8) i write a political cartoon serial for the Pitt Chronicle called "Calamity Sam," about the harebrained trials and tribulations of a neocon quasi-Fascist medical supplies salesman who sells Americans devices to be implanted in their chest cavity supposedly to cure heartburn but that actually work like self-detonating atomic weapons of obvious global consequence. i also write obituaries for the City Paper.
9) My girlfriend's name is Maggie. She goes to Mercyhurst and is working at Whole Foods right now.
10) My dad is Hymen Radcliffe, but i don't write poetry.
Well, that's about it for now. If you want to know anything else about me, just hit me up. Peace.
30 July 2007
26 July 2007
locale is a different sensation in the south
and I, but I, if I, or I
as long as the peasant queen is the vixen whore
who becomes my Jocasta
with the saline addition of knowledge
like a ray of light, your prophecy
O decrepit Tiresias, captured from your native epoch
Imprisoned in this past-future duality
near your fear and trembling
--Speak up, you godly lout!
I collapse in Etruscan rage
Ripe, erotic, rare, cum-guzzling baby,
hang it all but not yourself because I'm hung up on you
Kopasetic Sibylline oracle of mean Apollo,
my Delphine nightmare is a wet dream so past Freud
but loaded with Jungian imagery of the id
The abyss is in me, said the gone Son of Fortune,
Sent him there, I want to go there, I am forever lost there,
Banging it in whence I was born, Life ends where it has begun
Fate is a howling bitch in heat
and I would drown the desert in tears to conquer it
Alienation of the poor from the source and product of their labor
Elijah's cherubim forfeit life for a vague god and damnable country
Time and place conspire against our lives,
god and man against our love
As a little babe, chained to a wilderness of totem fear
must overcome my father in my darkest pre-conscious dreams
Where is the pride of those down-stricken by destiny?
frivolous bourgeois military rape of purity
synapse flash jump cut historical discontinuity to pre-wasted Thebes,
O Sphinx-faced mother, if I could escape death without dying?