Tuesday, August 30, 2022

AUGUST 30TH SUPERFIGHT

A Superfight is a writing exercise where you run a fictional tournament between some fictional combatants. Today's fighters are:


Witch Hazel (of Looney Tunes)

Guts (from Berserk)


MEWTWO (returning champion... a psychic Pokémon)


Yugioh (from Yu-gi-oh! a franchise about a child's card game)


Horse

A Baby

ROUND 1:
  1. Witch Hazel vs. Horse
  2. Guts vs. Yugioh
  3. Mewtwo vs. Baby

Witch Hazel vs. Horse:

Horse has been known to team up with opponents. Is Witch Hazel amenable? Does Witch Hazel smell trustworthy? This is a tough call for Horse. Pawing the ground, he nervously neighs. Witch Hazel begins her routine of bullshitting in rhyme while lining up the kill. 

Flash point! Let's switch to a different fight.

Guts vs. Yugioh

Yugioh offers to settle this with a tabletop game of some sort. Guts the swordsman surmises that his opponent is a veteran gambler and thus dice or cards would be disadvantageous so he chooses to stick to bloodsport. 

Yugioh is in a tough spot. He is probably going to get killed in this fight. He is not a fool. He attempts to delay the battle by talking, trying to deduce an edge. What is Guts motivation? Does he think winning the Superfight will bring him closer to any of his goals?  His quick wits quickly surmise that Guts is not very clear on why he's even here or what he's doing. No, Guts's heart is bent on one thing: revenge against the God Hand, a group of literal Gods who ruined his life. Knowing this Yugioh concedes and leaves the scene.

Mewtwo vs. Baby

Mewtwo either can't bring himself to fight a baby or simply does not care to. It seems important to this Pokémon that that point remain ambiguous. Baby wins.

Back to: Witch Hazel vs. Horse:

Horse is standing around placidly and Witch Hazel is ass-over-teakettle and has stars and planets floating above her head. We didn't get to see what happened. Horse wins

ROUND 2:

Guts vs. Horse

Guts is obviously a noble master, this is what Horse has been waiting for. Team-up, Guts riding Horse will fight Baby in the finale. 

FINALE: Horseman Guts vs. Baby?

Yugioh has swapped positions with Baby in the tourney, in exchange for a bag of candy. "It was like taking candy from a baby... in reverse!" is his line. Additionally, Yugioh has taken his time out of the limelight to find an edge.

The big reveal: Yugioh has an object of power known as a Beherit. This is terrible news.


The entire Tourney is thrown into The Eclipse, the dark dimension the Beherit pulls people into. The last time this happened, Guts's entire life was ruined. Guts is freaking out. Horse is keeping cool. The ground has become an unwieldy mass of stone faces. All participants are endangered by encroaching demons, but Mewtwo and Witch Hazel team up to hold them at bay. Baby is crying!

Yugioh is smirking evilly. Guts is in an insane rage and is going to try to kill Yugioh but he can't because of the demons and because of the approaching... God Hand.



These are the Gods capable of unleashing the darkness of humanity or something. They are the ones who ruined Guts's life. Anyway there they are; they always show up when a Beherit is used. Of course, Yugioh is able to goad one or more members of God Hand into a game of cards, the card game Yu-gi-oh! which is named after Yugioh, and before very long it's Time to Duel!



Well to make a long story short, Yugioh nearly gets his Life Points depleted to Zero from taking on all The Gods at Once but Guts intervenes and using the Power of Violence is able to Turn The Tide. Maybe Guts volunteers to Step Into The Game As One Of The Cards. Anyway with their franchise powers combined Y&G win it and The God Hand is sent to the Shadow Realm which isn't very different from The Eclipse but its not on their terms so they aren't happy. It's basically the ending of Superman (1978) where the bad guys are trapped in a prison cube and sent spinning off into space.



SUPERFIGHT WINNER: FRIENDSHIP!



FRIEND FLEAS (TRPG ENCOUNTER)


Friend Fleas.

    These mischievous creatures speak in short range telepathy, offering to keep an eye out in exchange for a place to sleep and live. They bite you if they believe you're in danger or, if you haven't been in danger for a while, because they hunger. Allowed to live long enough they will multiply and invariably cause anxiety disorders. Hosts cannot be surprised but suffer -2 Charisma per month infested.

Monday, August 29, 2022

PILL-SHAPED ARTIFICIAL LIFE (TRPG ENCOUNTER)


PILL-SHAPED ARTIFICIAL LIFE

1 Meter Tall
Encountered: 2d6
Found: Underground.
4 HP 
Attacks: Grapple, Pull apart d4 damage.

Semi-transparent shell skin, brightly colored shapes cloudily visible inside. Little cloth pants you can burn for 1 hour of light per. Nonorganic, inedible organs, feels like hard plastic.

Unclear what their purpose is. 1/3 chance they are using light, in which case they will have a single carbide headlamp with d8 hours of fuel. 

What are they doing?

  1. Climbing up the same rocks over and over.
  2. Trying to eat rocks (no mouths).
  3. Dance-fighting.
  4. Mining without tools, futilely.
  5. Deconstructing a peer, 50% chance alive.
  6. Motionless, staring at you.
First 3 will not resist interference but once the 4th is touched they will instantly attack en masse.

Saturday, July 10, 2021

Ronnie O'Neal / THE CAGED TIGER

Video Still of Ronnie O'Neal's Trial Glitched by My Phone 

    Ronnie O'Neal transformed his murder trial, for a crime of which he was obviously guilty, into theatrics of his own fractured personality, the personality which killed his child and his child’s mother. When his public defender refused to use a “stand your ground” defence, Ronnie decided to be his own attorney, and the resulting pacing and yelling went viral.

In this impacful staging, Ronnie succeeded at becoming famous, even if his intent was only to free himself. I get the sneaking suspicion, though, that Ronnie did not anticipate his future freedom, and instead pursued something like notoriety or self-expression. Somewhat, his intent did not matter, as he was stuck in a situation ahead of himself, unable to escape.

So, in such a situation, isn't there something in performance? All the world's a stage, and the company acts pointlessly, as Georges Batallie says in The Accursed Share: “Beyond our immediate ends, man’s activity in fact pursues the infinite and useless fufillment of the universe.” Didn't Ronnie's defence pursue something useless, and universal?



    Joe Exotic, convicted animal abuser of Netflix's "Tiger King" fame, is back at it, this time running an online contest entitled "Bachelor King." The purpose is to find romantic leads for when he’s released from prison. Joe is pretty much a cult leader and as such we can’t really sympathize with him, but I think we do, anyway. There’s maybe something so ridiculous and pathetic about him that it captures our love.


Maybe it is just that we love trapped things. They become like pets. To have the whole of someone in a net is almost the same as having them tamed.

The captured criminal is the tiger in the zoo, so different than the tiger upon you. There is a visible sucking out as the caged thing writhes in the audience’s view. The passion of life becomes alike begging, the lines of power make themselves known.


Joe Exotic knows how to use structures of power, naïve as he was about his security within them. I’ve said that outlaws tend to have a Death they are seeking out, their unrestrained actions show an ignorance that must be, in some ways, intentional. I think Joe is aware of the potential for it all to come crashing down and is somewhat unafraid.


That, at least, is what ambitions tells us. Either in Ronnie O'Neal screaming at his jury or in the search for a Bachelor King, there is an admirable *image*, at least, of “I AM NOT AFRAID.”


But, of course, Ronnie and Joe are scared, everyone is; and we might, too, value leaving an image, when facing eternity.


Sunday, June 27, 2021

THE ASSISTANT 2019: SIGNS OF ABUSE

 


Something's wrong within your friend circle, the vibe is off and there are signs of some power struggle. Or maybe it's online; a vacuum of non-information left like a gas signature.

The Assistant (2019) is a movie totally dedicated to the semi-invisible signs left by abuse, in this case, within the film industry. The main character swims through these signs, at the height of the film coming into direct opposition with the source, before returning to normality.

Signs of abuse modeled in the film:

  • loud sounds no one will discuss
  • misogynisitic jokes/ casually cruel jokes about known persons
  • exhausted, unhappy people
  • confused victims seeking help ineffectually
  • the naïve positivity of pre-victims sticking out in context
  • people giving up on the possibility of justice 
  • direct verbal abuse, and a culture thereof
  • threats to destroy people's careers, etc.
  • disposability-- a revolving door of people
    • new faces being brought in, and the haggard faces of those leaving or on their way out
  • things happening where they shouldn't-- typically, sex.
If there exists a pathway for many people to enter, then exit someone's life, this may be a conduit for abuse. Ties of anonymity benefit those who burn through people. And abusers require fresh streams of people constantly.

This is sort of the human condition, too. We are all, mostly, folding new strings of people into our lives, and then watching some of them leave. Abuse, then, may leave patterns visible in the peoples exiting one's life. Outsiders may observe these patterns, subtle, semi-invisible, instinctually perceived...

Saturday, June 19, 2021

LUST-BLOGGERY

 I think so often Lust, and by extension, Blogging, is an admission that we feel something, want to love, want to be a part of it.

An admission of desire, a seeming want to compete in a worldwide network of such admissions. To lust is to struggle, (as it is to Blog).

Lust is the desire to participate. To not only join the universal human struggle but to direct it, at least a little. For your direction to matter.

The experience we have culminates in taste. Lust is often the desire to have our tastes be actualized, applied, and viewed. Lust is tied to our desire for family to support us. Lust is a desire for the world to accept us. 

We are on here because of Lust. The desire to be read is Lustful. Publishing absolutely is a seeking of appreciation. Selling yourself as a person with attractive ideas.

This is why there's this glamour-preening network of bloggers, tweeters, facebook-users... Trying to meld themselves into appealing ink. We want to be read, we want to feel the adulation.  

Friday, June 4, 2021

Disco Elysium Review'd

I am constantly battered by ideas and impulses. There is no definitive goal that seems easy to achieve. The more concrete the outcome, the more it competes with a world of outcomes.

The feeling in my life currently is: sedentary body stresses. The thin headache from morning coffee and its aftertaste which I still have from yesterday. 

I finished up Disco Elysium today, it was cathartic. Existential art speaks to my stranded being. It's a video game, and my tenuous roleplay within it led to tenuous outcomes.

This game offers context for everything. This context underwrites and complicates all of your choices. Each story thread usually has deep rewards near the end that you will often get locked out of ever achieving. This tightwaddedness is good for games which use secrets as currency. In many dialogue-path adventure stories, the depth of the threads feels achievable after one playthrough. But Disco Elysium withholds a lot.

It makes you reliant on the game's market-society of actors. They want different compromises or are simply uninterested with you. Dealing with them often implies future losses.

I think having to permanently fail a lot in order to bargain for whatever (petty?) ultimate goal you have in mind is a good place to be for catharsis. I was invited to have troubles and I am happy that I ended up with battle scars, lost pathways, and negotiated victories. That's life!  (Post Written May 16th 2020)

Wednesday, May 12, 2021

J. Simmon's "House" Review'd

This silent dialogue comic about teenagers exploring abandoned buildings seems to be normal and relatively straightforward, but it's the unexplained details which stick in your mind after you read "House". 

Plenty of small romantic moments get explored by this text with a look or a remark. And then the text moves on. These tangents proceed up to a point.

The result is the feeling of a few distinct characters trapped within the comic itself. Peering around corners, shining a flashlight, inevitably caged. The story of a life lived to the end is the story of the book as you read it. 

But there is also something constrictive about the comic format. Panels baby... and length. The read may be short, but drawing comix is so, so labor intensive.... At the end of "House", as his been noted by many critics... the book itself seems to enclose the characters completely. 




Thursday, May 6, 2021

JOSH SIMMONS’S “THE FURRY TRAP” REVIEW’D: HORROR AND INTIMACY

Horror is a form of self-inflicted intimacy, alike taking a hot bath, it creates intimacy and stimulation between you and your senses. 

 

 

October 18th, 2002: “The Ring” is released. I am 10. Although I only witness the film piecemeal through ads, a parody sequence in Scary Movie III, and through a recounting of the film by my dad on a long hike, the horror of the film settles deep within me.


The idea of “The Ring”’s antagonist Samara hiding in my closet tortures me for months. During the day I am beset by childhood social anxiety. At night I could not rest my ear against the pillow without thinking my heartbeat was, somehow, Samara.

 


I had no hope but to wait. Day after day I would attend long lectures by struggling teachers, and night after night I had no reliable peace. I didn’t get out of the school system for years but my escape from Samara happened sooner.


My family kept a library of Stephen King novels, and despite my childhood knowledge that Horror could destroy my nightly peace for weeks, I took those King books for a spin. Surprisingly, they didn’t terrorize me like “The Ring” did.

 

 

I found myself enjoying the often erotic weirdness and terror the King books spewed out. I got acclimated to whatever Samara struck me with; the nightmares slacked off, though I was still cautious that watching a horror movie risked hours and hours of panic... 

 


Sometime around 2015: I attend a book tour for The Furry Trap at The Cyberpunk Apocalypse, an artist-owned residence and performance space. The author of The Furry Trap, Josh Simmons, is there. I opened this particular graphic short-story collection and was appalled.  Grody Not-Safe-For-Life Alt-Comix were something I was familiar with but I had only to read a few panels from The Furry Trap’s “Cockbone” story before I was once again struck with the knowledge that the media in front of me would give me nightmares. I hurriedly stopped reading and left the event.


A similar thing happened when I looked into The 120 Days of Sodom a few years back. In the main public library’s stacks, I flipped through the original translation of 120 Days, read a brief paragraph about feeding a young girl a special diet for the purposes of coprophagia, and I put the book down. I think I can remember consciously repressing what I had just read.


Naked Lunch may have done it, or maybe it was one of my friends. In my late twenties (2016+) I began to actively pour through stories of the worst horrors. Last Podcast on the Left, “Last House on the Left”, “Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom” the movie by Pier Paolo Pasolini, and then The 120 Days Of Sodom by the Marquis De Sade, newly translated and released by Penguin, convinced me fully of the virtues of this kind of thing. John Waters too, I guess. (AND many others -ed)


I began to feel curiously at peace with the shocking themes these films and texts presented. Something about these stories would relieve some great pressure and satisfy some curiosity. Sade’s 120 Days of Sodom in particular got me over several intense fears, of coprophagia, one of them.


It’s after all that, in 2021, I returned to Josh Simmons’s The Furry Trap, and can now say I am compelled, to the point where I can’t stop reading this text every time I start. Some great emotional traumas wrecked on me seemed soothed by the demons therein. Is it sympathy, or what?


WHY EXPLORE THE ID?


A hot bath may be tested with a toe, and we discover whether the water is too hot. Responding to pleasant sensation, we might stick the whole foot, and next, the whole body.

The calming effect of horror is a pleasant sensation that I don’t understand, though I have theories and pop-psychology. It feels as if some self-knowledge is being gained, like the simultaneous testing, and relaxation, in a hot bath. It may be just the nerves, stimulated but safely recalibrating and responding, I am alive, I am alive, I am okay.


There is also the tale of Saint Augustine’s curiosity to consider. One of my professors taught this story to me during a lesson on “the abject”. The abject is whatever’s expelled from the body, taboo’d by society, and so on. Literal shit and watching shit being pushed around qualifies as “the abject”; so too gore, horrid sex stuff, and traumas. 


We are more compelled by “the abject” than we may like to admit. St Augustine, my professor taught me, was walking along one day and when he saw, by the side of the road, the corpse of a plague victim.


Feeling the curiousity inside himself, St. Augustine resisted the urge to look at this corpse. However, he noticed his curiousity rising, to the point where he could not resist. “Look then, damn you!”* were his words as he gave his eyes the sight they desired.


The whirling Id inside of us desires information on the forbidden subjects, perhaps to better sort and munch the many horrific fantasies that flit thru our consciousnesses. Am I assauged by the pages and pages of coprophagia in 120 Days? Something happens, and I don’t really know what, but some “assuaging” must occur, because I feel happier and more self-content, often, after reading such a work.


It may just be pride in readership. Facing up to fears. Anyway, The Furry Trap compells me and I think contains a sensitivity the author has been noted to have. Here’s a quote from an interview with Simmons:


“Simmons has an idiosyncratic approach to horror: on the one hand he often employs a take-no-prisoners harshness, on the other he's slyly, darkly funny, and intersperses many of his stories with moments of beauty and even sensitivity (no seriously, check out his Eisner-nominated ‘Seaside Home’ and tell me it doesn't break your heart a little bit).”


There is some capacity for the shock-abject to induce intimacy, like the intimacy that the Marquis De Sade conjured up in jail, the comfort of the interior zone of his mind. The presence of the Id in that interior zone, wild and crazy, can be comforting to a reader like me, who must, as well, live with their own mInD.


This is what can Explain, if we need to Explain, The Furry Trap’s opening story. A thrumming adolescent’s assault fantasy/nightmare. Horror of sufficent strength can speak to our pasts, the scar tissue of a mind burrowing into itself, raised in recongition to the digestion of something similar. 

Monday, November 2, 2020

on the theft of rare books by gregory priore and john schulman

Cw: discussion of suicidality and joe exotic

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/06/20/us/Carnegie-library-theft-schulman-priore.html Essentially: Gregory Priore managed the rare book room for the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh. Over many years he raided the rare books and fenced them to John Schulman, a local books dealer. 

 The theft was abysmally stupid. Neither the thief nor the fence decided to think about what would happen when the vault was checked. They both relegated themselves to discovery, eventually, and instead just enjoyed the extra income while it lasted.

This reminds me of times I've heard of gambling addicts embezzling entire businesses. Tho Gregory and John's actions weren't attributed to addiction. But there is that same decision to not think, to not hide, to just trade the future for the present, as in such an addict. 

Both of these men came into their jobs everyday for years and either knew they were fucked or suppressed the knowledge that they were fucked.

Greg priore said greed led him. I wonder if it wasn't a specific kind of lust for the books. Valuables .

Treasure.

(Greg and John)
(Joe Exotic of "Tiger King" fame)
treasure = genes = beauty

Joe Exotic was able to bargain the thrill of exotic animals for income. 

These men help us understand something about ourselves, because they show us tales of greed.

Everything that we love is, in an essential way, as base as the greed Greg faced or the brutality Joe showed to people and animals alike. 

Too much desire negates the self... Desire is suicidal, desire is the desire for change, the desire to want something different. These men were essentially not at peace.

Greg, John, Joe-- all Willy Loman's, a-toil, stewing, family men... Can't blame me for relating.

(Fredric March playing Willy Loman in Death of a Salesman)

I'm more like Joe than Greg in my family structure. I live in a pod of young adults. It's nice, I'm lucky. I feel a sense of disquiet.

Travis was one of Joe Exotic's husbands, and he was abused by Joe. Travis accidentally ended his life in a bizarre gun incident. I relate to Travis's ennui. I smoke a lot of weed. I don't intend to hurt myself and I'm not liable to point firearms at myself and at my friends for fun, so I do not think I will meet an end as sudden and stupid. (Nor any kind of end anytime soon God forbid !)

I think Travis loved guns and the sense of power they gave him even as he was trapped in a cult of another man's personality. Note the zoo uniform. 

Perhaps, as Greg Priore donned his uniform (collared shirt, vest, glasses)... A Willy Loman, he also desired the sense of control destruction can give you. Theft, treasure, tigers, family, weed, guns. All can be said to be powers of death (change).

Good ol' Skeleton Farmer.

Death is the harbringer of change. I am blessed to realize that human consciousness cannot be prolonged forever. Someday, the burden will be lifted-- everything must end. 

No hell can outlast death. The toil of years of knowing you'll eventually be caught, get your career ruined, and be imprisoned-- change will end that toil. 

Alternatively, maybe the weight of knowing you were going to be fucked somehow didn't bother Greg and John. Joe, I know, has gravitas. Maybe the book thieves just 'blanked" it.

In any case, guilt or no, their futures were traded away. 

Saturday, October 24, 2020

the great zucchini and why great artists might make you suspicious

THE GREAT ZUCCHINI is a classic piece of human interest journalism. 

IN SHORT: The GREAT ZUCCHINI is a middle age white man who has an incredible grace with children. He is able to connect with suburban children to create consistently great birthday parties in Washington state (he is a magician). The easy income from these parties grants him the freedom to never grow up, and he couch-surfs*, his finances are in shambles, and he's a compulsive gambler.

THE GREATZUCCHINI's grace with children is objectively great, I'm convinced from Gene Weingarten's excellent journalism. This grace, given from god no doubt, permits THE GREAT ZUCCHINI to never face certain consequences. 

In this way, being a successful artist is somewhat alike having rich parents. You are able to conjure money from nowhere. You are able to float above poverty. 

Great art skills additionally attract a bunch of affectionate people, on top of the financial benefits. Anyone who can make great art consistently can count on a renewing stream of fans.

One of Jenny Holzer's "Truisms"

The corruption of power comes as no surprise. We associate beauty (and the ability to create it) with moral upstandingness. In reality there is no reliable correlation. 

Great art grants Fame + Power, a dangerous combination.  Fame makes us politicians. As much power as we are granted, fame demands and creates endless opportunities for exploitation of this power. Particularly if your fame and power (and status) convince others that you're trustworthy. 

There is nothing trustworthy about the fame and power granted by great art. Famous and powerful people make us feel afraid, don't they ?/

New shirt from Bread & Water Printshop 


*THE GREAT ZUCCHINI isn't homeless, his home is just so full of garbage that he'd rather not stay there :/


Monday, October 12, 2020

A review of 120 Days of Sodom: Honey Boy, Love and Mercy, Succession, Nxivm, Hannibal, The Office, and Familial Concentration

 

Keith Raniere, Cult Leader of "Nxivm"

Yes, we're vulnerable. Reporter Barry Meier said the Nxivm story stuck out because it showed how people are always vulnerable. I think the extent to which we end up in situations like Nxivm or Jonestown speaks to our existential fuckedness. It's a family matter, I think.

In "Honey Boy"(2019), Shia Le Bouf plays an abusive father figure raising a child actor, the story being Shia's childhood biography.  Remarkable in the film, I think is a discussion of where the power lies in a father/child relationship, as the child actor wields a "per diem" (an envelope stuffed with cash the kid earned, which the dad wants for strip clubs) and technically employs the abusive father, a technicality which becomes more significant as the child ages.

"Love and Mercy" (2014) had a similar treatment: a therapist harangues and abuses a multi-millionaire depressive artist, who has slid into the therapist's legal clutches. These kinds of situations are not unknown for rich people. 

There is a kind of diffusive, tentative chaos among the rich, if HBO's Succession is as real as it feels. A young distant cousin of a powerful mogul manages to step into the mogul's family, half by accident, and half by dumb resilience. 

Consider what it feels like to move from one conception of power into another. We are always able to wield the valued props of our power's position. These props, wielded by Keith Raniere for example, don't amount to much. A childhood of awards. Some real skill, like martial arts, or volleyball. A degree and years of education.

Yes, they make you into better people: successes. Keith Raniere I think has many successes. But these achievements are fundamentally empty to the extent that they do not guarantee much about the people or the situations these empowered people are in and draw people into.  

Jonestown's communist bona-fides* are another example: not enough to guarantee much. The lives we lead are the proof of their roots; changing the way people live was Keith Raniere's oestensible goal. 

Which is absurd, and what is sad, is the over promise // under-delivering of these cults. Overpromise on bona-fides, under-deliver on results. At least, long-term results. Obscure the meaning. I'm reading 120 Days of Sodom; there's no expression of rich people, dominance, and wealth which is truly significant. Which is why Keith's branding scheme was, in essence, pointless. (ed: he coerced women to ritually brand each other with his initials)

*

There's no expression of rich people, dominance, and wealth which is truly significant. What it amounts to is a coercion of sexual sensation by any means necessary. Inflating their sexual needs in such a way, through exhaustion, eventually deprives 120 Day's "libertines" of the usual libraries of sensation and thus they choose to employ more and more depraved methods to stimulate themselves.

The libertine's pleasure is very close to nothing at all-- the lives of at least 30 people are suborned just for the joys of about four people in 120 Days of Sodom.  It is possible to see the book as a story of a massive amount of waste. Of course this perspective equivalizes human life with garbage; tho this is the perspective of the book's libertines. They view the lives of others as a tremendous barge of garbage which they the privileged may pluck from at will, like seagulls.

The Marquis De Sade's philosophies on life, be that as they are for a version of sexual liberation which concludes the lives of women are pointless but for total subjection, are never convincing to me. I feel that they are arguments the times give context to: conditions are repressed, better to open up then to play slave to god and husband. Ofc the destiny of the women who "open up" is quite bad. 

This brings me back to Keith Raniere. He I think offers propositions similar to Sade: an alternative life to the mainstream-- a life of scientific building blocks for taking control of ourselves and the world. Let me provide some context.

Indie Game Designer Porpentine reviewed the NBC series Hannibal

I think a lot about fellow indie game designer Stephen Murphey's essay on Robert Walser, and this quote in particular: (which Porpentine quotes in her standout essay Hot Allostatic Load):

"The dream of an imaginary community that allows total identification with one's role within it to an extent that rules out interiority or doubt, the fixity and clearness of an external image or cliche as opposed to ephemera of lived experience, a life as it looks from the outside." - text sourced here

The dream of human existence is to live a life which is external with no internal living, no warm meatbag slip-and-creak of nerves, guts, digestive systems, psychological troubles, etc. etc. I think, in a way, the mafia sells this identity to its members; "our way", Cosa Nostra, Omerta, an alternative system of control. These of course designed to isolate people and turn them into bodies/soldiers/corpses.

There is no PURPOSE beyond concentration for those who wish to establish something like what Raniere or Jim Jones had, or what Sade imagined, or what Porpentine saw in the story of NBC's Hannibal. I think, in some ways, there is no purpose to FAMILY beside concentration. As concentration is the bringing of people closer together.

Intimacy *is* the goal of the "libertine". "I wanna be married and have 100 kids so I can have 100 friends. And no one can say no to being my friend." A quote from Michael Scott** of NBC's "The Office".  I see the same sort of impulse in Sade's libertines, who with total impunity curate an entire society.

This! Is the point of Raniere's brandings: the (attempted) creation of a society/social truth/identity. I see a similar impulse in the serial killings as depicted in Mindhunter's Ed Kemper:

"You know, women were initially indifferent to me. They weren't interested in sharing. My whole life, no one wanted to interact with me. Not even our cats, when I was a kid. The only way I could have those girls was to kill them, and it worked. They became my spirit wives. They're still with me." 

Ed Kemper, as depicted by Cameron Britton in Mindhunter

A ritual designed to inflict a social truth (the absence of the victim in our society) and a personal pleasure (the memory of a victimization).

I've been studying true crime as an interest for about a year, and I'll admit today that I am fascinated in social situations organized by selfish people. Like Keith Raniere's brandings or Ed Kemper's killings, the point is to create a social reality (scarred or dead victims) as a means to supplement personal experiences (the memories of the murders/ a support network of subordinates).

This was, ultimately, what Jonestown became about. People in charge manipulate societies purely for personal experience.

I think we all have, to some extent, some desire and ability to appeal to society. I think we all have the desire to live an external life, a vicarous imagining of our experience which would supposedly comfort our internal routine suffering. This externality includes opportunity. A person who is famous is widely thought to be so comforted-- an assured external persona, filled with opportunity, is thought to comfort our internal life. An imagined ideal life that includes prospects and opportunities.

Dealing with the future: proposing a revolutionary change in the future: changing your self through practice to create a future, better self. The future stretches out endless and fairly unknowable. Contrast that with the past, which we pretend to know. 

I think, in that imagination of our past, our identities rest.

*Angela Davis was fooled too-- we are all vulnerable, I think!

**These words spoken by the character Michael when he was a child, filmed in an interview with a puppet on a fictional children's tv program, "Fundle Bundle". Episode 18, Season 2. 

Tuesday, May 5, 2020

Cumblasters united: Ryan Murphey's""Hollywood"

I can only write if I belive in you, viewers. All art is apostrophe, which means "address to a person who isn't there". In that way, all art is appreciation!

The desire to be appreciated is exactly perverse... That's what you should take away from this... of course it's very stupid, l ike all perverse things

Patti Lupone is Chief Cumblaster!

Sunday, March 15, 2020

New Coronapost: Gays in "Verace"

Zoom! Pow! Bang! These are the words I think when I see these colors:

Also, wow!

Good colors. Smooth colors. Enticing. Sexy!

Watching American Crime Story : The Assination of Gianni Versace is pound cake.

Saturday, December 7, 2019

Pink Potatoes: A New Play review'd


  • a long time ago I wrote, if absolutely obscurely, about the pittsburgh surrealist play scene as being a stand-in for the only solution in the post-trump reality. How to deal with the rise of facism? Suck on my butt!
  • If the solution here actually is, ultimately, a descent into madness that may or may not actually correspond to a real solution in the facist reality-- isn't that escapism?
  • The play ends with the respective members of society escaping from earth in total to the planet of spiders, helped along by the mother-ly (real baby literally attached) force of the wind.
  • Is it okay that this message corresponds to a giving up on earth entirely?
  • I think perhaps we must follow those lines of grief that come up on our faces, as a discussion of alternate realities at all is perhaps, the ultimate solution (excuse me) to Facism™. 
But what is an alternate reality? We assume that those who beg to differ from the mainstream have a social debt they refuse to pay. Always some kind of retribution along the path to the grave, one, and two-- an escapism in our imaginations which, we must hope, is querulously "real". 

I live a life of constant dread and sucidial thinking, interrupted occasionally, with the help of drugs and perhaps, art, by the FOMO-laden minefields exactly depicted in this production. Touching on a world better than myself, with those artists with their brazen sexuality and good work and better lives. The grass is always greener but I think the point is that the grass is greener because it is separate from us.

To deny the existence of our imaginations, even as they live out alternate lives, is to do ourselves a disservice. Haruki Murakami's "Hard Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World" shows that in each of us is a greater life than the one lived outside. We are all mendicant then to this stronger internal life even as the lights outside wink out one by one. 

Sunday, December 1, 2019

death stranding review'd: to love supply

Snaps and buckles, backpacks and belts.
The game ends in a signature Kojima-annoying fashion; two hour cutscene including two separate credit rolls, the "crying president" scene, and a half-hour sequence where you're blue and can't move much. Arguably a lot of the digital acting is boring, and a lot of the dialogue is nihilistically bland.

The themes are somewhat good. Information is transmitted wirelessly using ultrasonic frequencies. Something something extinction; politicians give us hope but are also executioners.

The metaphysics/mechanics/fx make the themes better. Ghosts in this game fully bridge geography and transmission. The internet piggybacks on death; "The name of the bow is life but its work is death."-Heraclitus.  You play almost all of the game while carrying a child which needs to be comforted. In a climactic boss fight, you are given only broken cargo to use.

Those kinds of inspired visual/mechanical fx are paired with occasionally poignant moments, or wackycreepy departures, from the digital actors. All of this rests on a bed of walking sim gameplay.

How Death Stranding innovates on the "walking simulator":
  1. The essential action is carrying cargo. Everything the character picks up is represented by luggage which takes up space and is heavy. Generally, you want to carry as much cargo as you can manage.
  2. The more cargo you carry, the easier it is to stumble and fall.Stumbling and falling can damage your cargo. You want your cargo to be undamaged.  
  3. Things that can make you stumble and fall: slopes, rocks, rivers, ghosts.
The essential action is to avoid stumbles (or crashes, if you're using your motorcycle). Carry enough cargo, and a rocky slope can be dangerous. So there is a real zoom-in on the importance of terrain. And there are many ways to manage terrain: powered skeletons, vehicles, ladders, climbing anchors, build-able bridges, even roads.

Gloriously, there is also military combat. I say gloriously because it is introduced relatively late into the game. Package delivery is more important and is introduced first. Most of any army is supply.

There are also dreamlike sequences where tactical warfaring becomes the focus. These are a unique and interesting departure, which self-consciously and with some critique, cater to the modern warfaring needs of today's gaming markets.

Death Stranding is innovative primarily because it refocuses a familiar world. Post-apocalypse, survivalism, supernatural forces tied to dubious technology-- but it's about packages. In many ways it is a playable version of David Birn's "The Postman".

And, alike Dark Souls, it has a very sturdy and efficient asynchronous multiplayer system, cooperative only. I hope they introduce a player versus player mode, even clumsily applied, it would seem fun.

Pro:
-Adult, melancholy and complex emotional tone and gameplay.

Con:
-Kojima-signature interminable exposition.
-Save system is clumsily presented, main ops trigger game overs.

Death Stranding is a weird PS2-era artgame. We used to carve around the bad spots of these games, bc art that was actually good and mechanics that actually innovated were rare. I say that they're still rare, good art is always in short supply.