The discussions and plurking has been exceptional this week. The night after our class Thursday was especially effective at drawing out discussion online, as people debated the value of "The Ticket" their frustrations with the class, and shared a variety of other random videos and ideas (dancing bananas)
What I have gathered from all of this is an appreciation for those thoughts that force us to think differently about an issue in order to relate or respond. This may seem obvious, and when I commented that I had experienced professors that did not encourage this type of thought nanotext was surprised and commented that I ought to feel insulted. He is absolutely right, and yet as have gone past my young idealism of years past, I have experienced a narrowing pettern of thought. Without the inspiration of Ken Keasy or Italo Calvino regularly shaking up my understanding of the world I have exchanged my naivete for a certain lack of imagination.
What I want to express here is not topics of the novels we are reading, but rather the effect of the texts on how I interpret the class and my life. The way that Burroughs challenges the rules of a novel, and the effect he has on one's acceptable limitations, runs parallel to the effects of all revolutionaries and geniuses throughout history. It is the great ideas that shake the foundation of our understanding. Just looking at my position one week ago, I have reached a new understanding of this genius, and I am reminded of what made me move to WA 5 years ago, the reason I changed majors from engineering to recreation, and climb rocks with such passion. It is the potential, the questioning of accepted terms, and the challenge of convention that brings change. This is the re-creation we see as a link between texts, and throughout life. So, while I may not be drawn into a story woven from ejaculation and pubic hair, I see that that was never the intention, perhaps by cutting up my reality, and juxtaposing new words and ideas into existing constructs I will recreate a more perfect understanding of the world. It is at least worth a try...
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Orgasm Addicts Stacked in the Attick Like Muttering Burlap
"The Ticket That Exploded" is the second book I have read by Burroughs and I was excited to read this book after feeling confused and disturbed by "Naked Lunch". So my hope that Burroughs had something other than ejaculation, alien sex, and rectal mucus to build his fantasy. SO far it is much of the same thing. This book reflects the same twisted mind of a sex crazed heroin addict. There are times when I am really interested in the images he creates, the fantasy seems to build towards an understanding of his fantasy, but then cuts off, and moves on to another seemingly unrelated story. The green newt boy is interesting, the Garden of Delights (God), and the nano police hold my attention and seem to build, but then the text makes a turn to distract, disgust, and bore the reader. I don't consider myself a conservative person, but it is just too much.
The plurk discussion has compells me to open the book without negative expectations each time I pick it up. I want to see what others see in his writings, and understand why this was selected for our class, but again and again I become lost in the cut-ups and put off by the bizarre eroticism. I see some nuggets here and there, little pieces that make me think he is trying to make a point, but it is buried in so much filth.
I will sift through erctions and rusty swamp smells to see what else he has to say about "the Other Half" the nature of begging, and how God is found in an orgasm.
The plurk discussion has compells me to open the book without negative expectations each time I pick it up. I want to see what others see in his writings, and understand why this was selected for our class, but again and again I become lost in the cut-ups and put off by the bizarre eroticism. I see some nuggets here and there, little pieces that make me think he is trying to make a point, but it is buried in so much filth.
I will sift through erctions and rusty swamp smells to see what else he has to say about "the Other Half" the nature of begging, and how God is found in an orgasm.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
The Identity
I am just finally putting down some thoughts I had after the vacation and partly spurned on by the DJ Spooky seminar.
While I was in Norway for the holiday I was staying right down town, and in a place that I have romanticized for it's traditional values, strong bond to nature, and their progressive government I was disturbed by the amount of graffiti, and not really graffiti but tags - EVERYWHERE. The trains look terrible, my girlfriends doorway had just been tagged, the buildings, benches, signs... nothing is safe. So my initial reaction was that a bunch of stupid kids are getting their jollies by defacing a city, a place that they ought to have some pride in. There was no graffiti on the trains in London, and people not would make big ugly tags on business windows in downtown Bellingham. So, why is this happening all over Oslo? I appreciate art but this is not expression...
But I thought about this, and when I was watchig the DJ Spooky video he opens with a description of the emergence of art and hip hop and his experiences in this emerging culture. The point is made that for a ignored and underpriveleged community, graffiti is a voice. It is the act of remaking the surrounding to reflect the people that reside in NYC.
So here some background may be necessary - Oslo, the capital of Norway, has been experiencing a tremendous influx in immigration. The identity of the city is changing. Norwegians are worried that the Norwegian language may soon become obsolete, because of all the various dialects and a decreasing native population (that is birth rates in Norway are decreasing except amongst immigrant populations). The city of Oslo is a metropolitan area and like it or not, the population is diverse, and no longer filled with blonde haired blue eyed businessmen. The population of Pakistani,Moraccon, and other minorities are not to be ignored. They have as much of a stake in the city's identity as any other. But when their surroundings do not relect the people who make up its inhabitants, they are going to force change. In this case, youth are claiming their parts, it may be a handrail, or a garbage can, but like everyone these people need to feel that Oslo is their home. Without destroying what exists they are adapting and compromising between what exists in their surrounding and within themselves. They speak the language, buy into the styles, and participate in a culture that must also flex to the changing times.
It is not new, and it may not impress me on an artistic level, but I understand the need to "make yourself at home". I ask how I have claimed my surroundings. The rocks climbing areas in which I feel some sense of posession, my office, and my hangouts. These places give me comfort and a sense of place that can be a shelter and provide needed peace from all the stresses of a foriegn place. It takes only a little thing to make a place familiar and welcoming, and when I see "defaced" property I try instead to realize it is "facelifted" and in the dynamic times we live, there is little room for my romantic ideas of how things should be. Perhaps it would be more productive to see how things are, and romanticize how they could be. To make these places comfortable and welcoming, and to give people a place.
While I was in Norway for the holiday I was staying right down town, and in a place that I have romanticized for it's traditional values, strong bond to nature, and their progressive government I was disturbed by the amount of graffiti, and not really graffiti but tags - EVERYWHERE. The trains look terrible, my girlfriends doorway had just been tagged, the buildings, benches, signs... nothing is safe. So my initial reaction was that a bunch of stupid kids are getting their jollies by defacing a city, a place that they ought to have some pride in. There was no graffiti on the trains in London, and people not would make big ugly tags on business windows in downtown Bellingham. So, why is this happening all over Oslo? I appreciate art but this is not expression...
But I thought about this, and when I was watchig the DJ Spooky video he opens with a description of the emergence of art and hip hop and his experiences in this emerging culture. The point is made that for a ignored and underpriveleged community, graffiti is a voice. It is the act of remaking the surrounding to reflect the people that reside in NYC.
So here some background may be necessary - Oslo, the capital of Norway, has been experiencing a tremendous influx in immigration. The identity of the city is changing. Norwegians are worried that the Norwegian language may soon become obsolete, because of all the various dialects and a decreasing native population (that is birth rates in Norway are decreasing except amongst immigrant populations). The city of Oslo is a metropolitan area and like it or not, the population is diverse, and no longer filled with blonde haired blue eyed businessmen. The population of Pakistani,Moraccon, and other minorities are not to be ignored. They have as much of a stake in the city's identity as any other. But when their surroundings do not relect the people who make up its inhabitants, they are going to force change. In this case, youth are claiming their parts, it may be a handrail, or a garbage can, but like everyone these people need to feel that Oslo is their home. Without destroying what exists they are adapting and compromising between what exists in their surrounding and within themselves. They speak the language, buy into the styles, and participate in a culture that must also flex to the changing times.
It is not new, and it may not impress me on an artistic level, but I understand the need to "make yourself at home". I ask how I have claimed my surroundings. The rocks climbing areas in which I feel some sense of posession, my office, and my hangouts. These places give me comfort and a sense of place that can be a shelter and provide needed peace from all the stresses of a foriegn place. It takes only a little thing to make a place familiar and welcoming, and when I see "defaced" property I try instead to realize it is "facelifted" and in the dynamic times we live, there is little room for my romantic ideas of how things should be. Perhaps it would be more productive to see how things are, and romanticize how they could be. To make these places comfortable and welcoming, and to give people a place.
Monday, January 12, 2009
The Invention of Morel
This invention of Morel, is a failed attempt at immortality. It is a creation that destroys that which it was designed to preserve. While reading the book, I was struck by the lack of life found in Morel's party. Even Faustine's routine vigil on the hillside seems to be without passion for the setting sun. They are merely repeating the steps of what may have truly been a beautiful week, but it has no meaning and when the main character joins the procession there is no one to observe the show. By the editor's comments we know that someone is aware of the situation, but if the main character's narrative serves as an example, one as nothing to gain from witnessing Morel's party except a sense of emptiness. Driven by isolation and the desire to interact with Faustine, if only on a superficial level, the main character commits himself to an eternity of empty participation in the procession.
In Buddhism one strives to reach enlightenment by releasing oneself from suffering and desire. Morel's Invention may be seen as a form of this release. The main character describes the sensation of his dissolving soul, saying, "I have an absurd impression of the pain: it seems to be increasing, but I feel less." He is overcoming suffering; the suffering of love, of loneliness, and physical pain. His relief differs from the ultimate goal of Buddhism, however, because he replaces his suffering not with the fullness of enlightenment in which one no longer distinguishes between pain and pleasure and simply feels unified with the whole. He is implanting himself into the procession but still to suffer eternally as an outsider. He remains alone and recognizes this cycle of suffering when he makes the dying wish that someone will insert him into Faustine's consciousness.
While Borges may have had no intention of alluding to Buddhism, the novel explores the spiritual cost of immortality, and it is my belief that the failure of such ambitions is shared between Morel's Invention and Buddhism. The value of consciousness and life is a subjective mmatter. Without suffering there is no joy, and without death there is no life. The ultimate release in this reality is the full exploration of suffering and the full awareness of joy. The dying wish seems like a prayer, and in the Christian tradition perhaps his eternity will be tied up neatly and he will indulge in eternal bliss, but for my own sake I will take life today, and welcome pain and joy. With the uncertainty of who will hear our prayers and what life would be without suffering, I argue that we must follow nature and let life happen as it will.
In Buddhism one strives to reach enlightenment by releasing oneself from suffering and desire. Morel's Invention may be seen as a form of this release. The main character describes the sensation of his dissolving soul, saying, "I have an absurd impression of the pain: it seems to be increasing, but I feel less." He is overcoming suffering; the suffering of love, of loneliness, and physical pain. His relief differs from the ultimate goal of Buddhism, however, because he replaces his suffering not with the fullness of enlightenment in which one no longer distinguishes between pain and pleasure and simply feels unified with the whole. He is implanting himself into the procession but still to suffer eternally as an outsider. He remains alone and recognizes this cycle of suffering when he makes the dying wish that someone will insert him into Faustine's consciousness.
While Borges may have had no intention of alluding to Buddhism, the novel explores the spiritual cost of immortality, and it is my belief that the failure of such ambitions is shared between Morel's Invention and Buddhism. The value of consciousness and life is a subjective mmatter. Without suffering there is no joy, and without death there is no life. The ultimate release in this reality is the full exploration of suffering and the full awareness of joy. The dying wish seems like a prayer, and in the Christian tradition perhaps his eternity will be tied up neatly and he will indulge in eternal bliss, but for my own sake I will take life today, and welcome pain and joy. With the uncertainty of who will hear our prayers and what life would be without suffering, I argue that we must follow nature and let life happen as it will.
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