Monday, June 30, 2008

a very short introduction: post structuralizm

izm. yet another one of those plays on words that only i think is clever!
even the very short first few pages have me thinking about redefining some of my vocabulary. if no one else gets it, well, that is ok. no one really studies anyone else anyway.
(maybe that should have been a vow.)

Aristotle believed that being human was something you had to get good at through constant practice.
– Eagleton, After Theory

My guess it is a team sport, where the teams are rarely defined.
Where competition exists and accurate coaching is sporadic.
And hardly heeded.

**********
I dreamt last night that E-40 and posse, including several young professionally dressed interns, were outside my window. I hollered down, some sort of excited squeal. The entire entourage proceeded to come up to my place. I was a bit nervous because a stray kitten I had picked up had just unexpectedly given birth and I needed to leave to get some cleaning supplies. E-40 was very kind about my predicament. He sounded exactly the same, but this time was played by a Hispanic man, without glasses.


These should be obvious:
currently reading: After Theory, AVSI: Post Structuralism, The Horse in Blackfoot Indian Culture
currently hearing: E-40

Sunday, June 29, 2008

shake it up. oo. oo.

ny solitude creates an imbalance.

terribly lonely/completely overstimulated
confident and proud/shameful ignorance of social graces
perfect working order/too undefined to begin
exhaustively wanted/negligently needed

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

synchronicity or, my shit is more john blaze than that

living in new york is humbling.
i'm not referring to looks or intelligence,
because i feel confident enough in those areas in my life.

but being away from those that seem to forgive all of my faults,
seems to present those faults in new ways each day.

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its one thing to have already recognized that you are a minority in your neighborhood, but to have someone several inches taller and several pounds stronger than you spit "cracker" in your face on the street is not only terrifying,
but quite humbling, too.

especially if you are carrying a large box of cracker-ass books back from the post office, books like the 2009-2010 Fulbright handbook, and Lyotard's "Postmodern Fables", or great reference/non-fiction books like "The Philosopher's Toolkit", "Dreamweaver in 24 hours" and "Guns, Germs and Steel". And perhaps the worst offender, something that might make David Duke hang his head in shame: a graduate art school sketchbook, nearly full of notes. not even sketches.

to be honest, it is only humbling the second day,
because the first day it is only terrifying.
maybe tomorrow it will be hilarious.
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the irony is (well, aside from the topics of the books) is that while i was being called a cracker, a devil, being wished dead and then accurately "MINORITY", i had set my computer to illegally download Biggie's "Life After Death".

since moving here, its all i've been playing in my head.
i've gotten over feeling stupid for even thinking that it would be ok for me to like it.

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i've been reading quite a bit lately. Well on my way to finishing Michael Kimmelman's "The Accidental Masterpiece: On the Art of Life and Vice Versa", i am finding several counterpoints in a few other books i've been reading concurrently: Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer, re-reading Bringhurst's "The Elements of Typographic Style" and perusing the typography section of the Mid-Manhattan library.
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i'll probably cite these coincidences later, right now i need to finish downloading a bunch of black metal, enjoy Biggie's "I Got a Story to Tell", a love song, and get the courage to walk to the grocery store.