It's a really entertaining encounter, even if I think Koons is being disingenuous at times (par for the course for him), especially about money issues. Waters seems to take a much darker view of Koons's work than Koons does himself.
Although they only talk about it a bit, it's worth checking the Wikipedia article about Koons, and other Internet sources, to read more about his infamous 1990 "Made in Heaven" series of erotic sculptures featuring him and his now-ex-wife, the porn actress Ilona Staller. As part of that project, Koons wanted to make a hard-core porn feature, but now seems grateful that he didn't. He and Staller wound up in a nasty 20-year custody and child support battle over their son Ludwig. Koons re-married and has had six kids with his new wife over the last dozen or so years, making a total of eight he has fathered in his lifetime. Umm, Jeff, that's a little environmentally irresponsible in this day and age!
For [Viscount Halifax] always saw passing events, not in the point of view in which they commonly appear to one who bears a part in them, but in the point of view in which, after the lapse of many years, they appear to the philosophic historian. With such a turn of mind he could not long continue to act cordially with any body of men.
Honestly, because of the Internet, because of people’s stupidity, because of people’s either fake political correctness, or the right-wing fake concern about people using language that they would use in their bedroom (but in a derogatory destructive way), it’s not even worth saying certain things anymore because you just don’t want it taken out of context, and you don’t wanna defend it because the minute you have to start defending it, that means you’re explaining your work, and the work that I do can’t be explained, and I don’t wanna explain it. I’ve never used a word about anybody that didn’t have many, many layers and meanings and double-entendres, and that wasn’t laced with irony. So a few things that I might have said ten, fifteen, twenty years ago pre-social media, I wouldn’t even bother saying today. I’m like, I’m not gonna be your guinea pig. Fuck it. I just won’t. MS: Because you don’t want to be put in the position where— SB: ‘Cause I don’t wanna explain—I don’t wanna explain to the freakin’ stupid masses of people out there that are on that fuckin’ social media twenty-four hours a day, diggin’ around, lookin’ for shit, bored, lost, resentful, angry, tapped out, empty, haven’t picked up a book or listened to a good song maybe in their entire lives, and now they have a platform to go, ‘Blah blah blah.’ I don’t wanna fuckin’ know about it. I don’t wanna engage with these people. I don’t wanna defend myself to these people, so fuck these people; I’m not fucking putting myself in that position. No. Not long ago, I had posted some sort of a comment [on Twitter] about gun control, and, oh honey, the creeps and the cretins came out of the fuckin’ woodwork, and I was like, ‘No. I’m done.’ Why do I have to put myself in harm’s way? If these people want their guns, they want their shit, they want to go out there and shoot it up and kill each other … I’m sorry they’re killing innocent people, that’s what’s outrageous to me, but you can only spread yourself so thin. And it’s so absurd now, it’s so intense, it’s so deep, it’s so crazy, and everybody can weigh in, and everybody’s nuts, and everybody’s off the fuckin’ rails, and I’m just tryin’ to stay out of the shit, and go quietly about my fuckin’ shit in the venues where I feel safe, where people come to hear it, and so be it if that cuts down on some of my free-wheeling style. It doesn’t really, though, because I’m still freewheeling in my shows, which is the only place I ever was anyways. I don’t wanna be freewheeling on the internet. I don’t know who’s out there taking the shit in.
At the terrific New Books Network, which offers substantial audio interviews with the authors of new books of intellectual interest, a talk with Karen G. Weiss about her Party School: Crime, Campus, and Community:
This is such an inportant topic, and Professor Weiss speaks about it so engagingly, that one would hope that the book would come in for extensive media attention, but a Google search doesn't suggest that it has.
At Amazon, Craig Brandon offers an insightful comment:
Faculty, college administrators, students and people who live around
these schools should do themselves a favor and read this
well-researched, no holds barred account. Weiss teaches at West Virginia
University and the school she writes about is called Party University.
Is there a connection? Weiss lays the cards out on the table. Kids go to
these schools to party and don't really care if they learn anything or
not. And college administrators are aware of this and use it in their
promotion materials. If you want to have the time of your life, they
say, this is the place!
Students who come to the Party School to
study are questioned by the 16 percent of students who are "extreme
partiers" with the question: You knew this was a party school. If you
didn't want to party, why did you come here? Good question. The
non-partiers and residents who live near the party schools pay a heavy
price. These 16 percent come to class as infrequently as possible.
quotes from student surveys, Weiss described the problem in the
students' own words. Very revealing and actually pretty scary when you
understand these students are signing for loans in the $28,000 for this
party, an amount they will be paying for decades, mortgaging their
future to pay for a few years of fun.
An important work, not to be missed!
Matthew Walther, "Tory Nihilist," on the British historian Maurice Cowling (1926-2005), at The American Conservative:
I love profiles like this. Although Cowling sounds like an old fart, there is always something irresistibly appealing to me about figures who hold a minor place in intellectual history and who wrote huge books such as Cowling's three-volume Religion and Public Doctrine in Modern England. Naturally I want to read those books, although there is always a question of finding the time to do it, and in some cases of getting one's hands on the texts. None of the three volumes of Cowlin's magnum opus is available through Amazon, new or used, for less than $49.44.
A must for anyone interested in conceptual art of the Seventies. I did not know about these commercials; like most people, I am mainly aware of Chris Burden for his life-threatening art projects, like having himself shot at close range, or crucified on the hood of a Volkswagen.
RIP French ballet dancer Jean Babilee (1823-2014):
To the world of ballet he became legendary above all as the original protagonist of a vivid ballet-drama of 1946, Roland Petit’s Le Jeune homme et la mort, which has drawn the world’s greatest male dancers to it ever since. Wearing dungarees rather than a princely jerkin, Babilée played a moody young painter who is visited in his garret by a mysterious woman, and seduced by her into hanging himself...In the first-night enactment of the suicide, which was somewhat experimentally staged, Babilée had to find the strength to dangle on the noose for a full minute in public view. Later he confessed that it terrified him, as he felt himself choking. The death position and scenery were then adapted for a safer outcome.
Amidst the downward tendency and proneness of things, when every voice is raised for a new road or another statue, or a subscription of stock, for an improvement in dress, or in dentistry, for a new house or a larger business, for a political party, or the division of an estate - will you not tolerate one or two solitary voices in the land, speaking for thoughts and principles not marketable and perishable?
Ralph Waldo Emerson, "The Transcendentalist" (1841)
One is reminded of Nietzsche's moving comment that he could scarcely begin to speak of Emerson because his words are "too close to me."
How could you not love the fact that the website of Radio Bulgaria runs a series of English-language blog posts called Intense Literature? This particular entry focuses on three important poets who were dead by age 30 - Dimcho Debelyanov, Hristo Smirnenski, Geo Milev. Nor are they the only early casualties in Bulgarian literature - one could add Hristo Botev (28), Peyo Yavorov (37), Petko Todorov (37), Nikola Vaptsarov (32). It's not just intense being a gifted Bulgarian writer - apparently, it's lethal!
I have become increasingly skeptical of the benefits of online "communities" devoted to particular issues or interests, and this funny-terrifying article cements that skepticism. I like the commenter who speaks of vicious infighting among people who actually have no effect on anything. Carry on folks, for all the difference it makes! (A good rule of thumb is, if you find yourself in a situation that could be so described - depart.)
Some revealing quotations from the article:
“I fear being cast suddenly as one of the ‘bad guys’ for being insufficiently radical, too nuanced or too forgiving, or for simply writing something whose offensive dimensions would be unknown to me at the time of publication,” [Katherine Cross] wrote.
*** ...there’s a norm that intention doesn’t matter—indeed, if you offend someone and then try to explain that you were misunderstood, this is seen as compounding the original injury. Again, there’s a significant insight here: people often behave in bigoted ways without meaning to, and their benign intention doesn’t make the prejudice less painful for those subjected to it. However, “that became a rule where you say intentions never matter; there is no added value to understanding the intentions of the speaker,” Cross says.
*** ...the expectation that feminists should always be ready to berate themselves for even the most minor transgressions...creates an environment of perpetual psychodrama, particularly when coupled with the refusal to ever question the expression of an oppressed person’s anger.
*** In a revolution-eats-its-own irony, some online feminists have even deemed the word “vagina” problematic. In January, the actress and activist Martha Plimpton tweeted about a benefit for Texas abortion funds called “A Night of a Thousand Vaginas,” sponsored by A Is For, a reproductive rights organization she’s involved with. Plimpton was surprised when some offended Internet feminists urged people to stay away, arguing that emphasizing “vaginas” hurts trans men who don’t want their reproductive organs coded as female. “Given the constant genital policing, you can’t expect trans folks to feel included by an event title focused on a policed, binary genital,” tweeted @DrJaneChi, an abortion and transgender health provider. (She mentioned “internal genitals” as an alternative.) When Plimpton insisted that she would continue to say “vagina,” her feed filled up with indignation. “So you’re really committed to doubling down on using a term that you’ve been told many times is exclusionary & harmful?” asked one self-described intersectional feminist blogger.
*** ...as [Mikki] Kendall well knows, many consider her a bully, though few want to say so out loud. “I kind of have a reputation for being mean,” she says. On the phone, Kendall isn’t mean. She seems warm and engaging, but also obsessed—she talks at length about slights made in the comment threads of blogs more than five years ago.
If I ever cite a comment from a blog post of five years ago, please shoot me.
Although I like to think that I am well up on things, I had to look up what "cis" and "cisgendered" mean:
The opposite of transgendered, someone who is cisgendered has a gender identity that agrees with their societally recognized sex. Many transgender people prefer "cisgender" to "biological", "genetic", or "real" male or female because of the implications of those words.
I'm not against adding more nuance and sensitivity to language, and I get that "normal" and "real" in this context are potentially offensive, but this term strikes me as being located precisely at the spot where politically correct language shades into Orwellian Doublespeak. I agree with a comment I spotted about it: "It seems quite politically loaded to me, ie it's a word that tells you the person using it is seriously into gender politics."
A survey of cryptozoological accounts of "invisible fish." Delightful, as Dr. Shuker's posts invariably are.
Joshua Keating, " 'Like David Lynch Directed a Remake of Office Space' " at Slate:
A nice overview of Aussie film noir. I'm not sure that Jonathan Teplitzky's Gettin' Square (2003) qualifies as noir, since it's more of a comic heist movie. I tire of heist movies sometimes, but what brightens this one is a fresh, original visual scheme based on the sunshine-and-sky look of the Australian coast.
Ed Fuentes, "Surveying the Link Between Modernist Mexican Painting and Murals" at Writing on the Wall:
Compared to Diego Rivera, Frida Kahlo, Rufino Tamayo, Jose Clemente Orozco, and David Siqueiros, the Mexican Modernist painter Alfredo Ramos Martinez (1871-1946) doesn't come in for much attention. But he definitely seems interesting, and is now the subject of a retrospective at the Pasadena Museum of California Art:
The dependably sharp Jake Hinson makes these films sound great! I haven't seen much Japanese noir, only the well-known Kurosawa titles: Drunken Angel, Stray Dog, The Bad Sleep Well, and High and Low, all great films (and Scandal, nearly as good, has some noir elements).
"Exhibit Celebrates Pioneers of St. Louis Modernism" at Dwell:
Eero Saarinen’s Gateway Arch towers over St. Louis, but the city’s suburban landscape is dotted with midcentury modern monuments of a more modest sort in the form of elegant, low-slung houses with high-vaulted ceilings and ample windows. The husband-and-wife architectural team of Ralph and Mary Jane Fournier deserve much of the credit for the St. Louis area’s enduring reputation as a hothouse of midcentury modernism for the masses—but it has tended to elude them, affixing itself instead to the likes of William Bernoudy, Harris Armstrong, and a few others.
For visual documentation, check out these two links. Awesome homes - I'd live in one happily.
Ludlow makes good points about the manipulative uses of fear in contemporary politics:
One way in which our fears can be manipulated
by the government is to lead us to fear the lesser danger. Schneier
provides a simple example of this: 9/11 caused people to irrationally
fear air travel and led them to the much more dangerous route of
traveling in automobiles.
Another such example of this misdirection of
fear took place in the case of the Boston Marathon bombings on April 15,
in which the Boston Police Department effectively imposed martial law
and seized control of people’s homes and used them as command posts in
their effort to apprehend the perpetrators. The bombings were terrible
(three people died and more than 260 were injured), but just two days
later another terrible thing happened: a giant explosion in a fertilizer plant in Texas killed at least 14 people and injured more than 160. For a moment we held our collective breath. Could it have been terrorists?
When we learned that it was probably an
accident caused by the ignition of stored ammonium nitrate, a collective
sigh of relief was heard, and then not another word about the event.
But why? And what if the explosion in that factory was part of a larger
problem of industrial safety? In fact, according to a report by the
United States Congressional Research Service, thousands of industrial
facilities across the country risk similar harm to nearby populations.
Meanwhile, 300,000 residents of West Virginia were without safe drinking water last
week after 7,500 gallons of 4-methylcyclohexane methanol leaked into
the Elk River from an industrial storage tank at a plant owned by a
company called Freedom Industries. Few, if any, of the Sunday TV talk
shows discussed the matter, but imagine the fear that would have been
pedaled on those shows if terrorists had poisoned the water of
those 300,000 Americans. Of course the danger is the same whether the
cause is terrorism or corporate indifference and malfeasance.
(Underlining mine.) Sure enough, here is a news piece from earlier this week, "Separate plant blasts kill 4 people in Nebraska, Oklahoma":
This sort of incident happens all the time, but doesn't get much sustained attention. The media always make decisions as to what to emphasize. Remember that Chilean mine disaster in 2010 in which, happily, all 33 trapped men eventually did survive? Sure you do. How about the New Zealand mine disaster that occurred just one month after the Chile incident ended? In that one, all 29 trapped men died.
Through some trick of brain wiring, I am able to keep track
of a lot of things at once. So reading many books at the same time, and not
having them bleed into each other in my mind, and being able to pick a book up
after a couple weeks away and remember exactly what is going on, are all second
nature to me, and I’ve been at it forever. Typically, I have a couple of dozen
titles in progress, of all types and genres, all sizes and styles, ebooks and
hard copies. Every week, I am finishing books and starting others. There are
certain titles that I tend to read at particular places and times – on the bus,
over dinner, before sacking out at night.
One result of this approach to reading is that my active
“friendship” with a long book can last quite a while as I slowly make my way
through it. And I do think of the books as friends, and sometimes I am a little
sad at the thought of finally finishing with one – although there will always
be new friends to “hang out with.”
Some of my “big reads’ at the moment are Joyce’s Ulysses
(almost done), The Canterbury Tales in Middle English, William Cobbett’s Rural
Rides (I’m now into the second of the two volumes in the Everyman edition),
Karl Marx’s Capital, the Letters of Pliny the Younger (the Loeb edition in two
volumes, of which I’m halfway through the first), and Alexis de Tocqueville’s
Democracy in America (more than halfway home). Thomas Babington Macaulay’s
History of England takes up five volumes; with the first currently on my iPad,
I can see that this project will take years. But that’s OK. I get very used to these voices – Marx stern
and brooking no self-doubt, Macaulay majestically analytical, Tocqueville
patient and sensible, Cobbett gruff and at times borderline unpleasant, but
then he starts talking about the view of the countryside from his horse, and
Cao Xueqin’s classic 18th Century Chinese novel
The Story of the Stone (translated by David Hawkes in five volumes for Penguin)
is another multi-year endeavor (I’m well into Volume 2). More Western readers
should undertake this journey; it’s incredibly rewarding. Talk about immersion
in a world! - in this case, the Manchu aristocracy of Cao’s era. With hundreds
of characters to keep tabs on, this is one of the more challenging items in my
current portfolio, although it reads like a dream on a chapter-by-chapter
One friend I will be sorry to part with soon is Richard J.
Bush’s 1871 Siberian travel narrative Reindeer, Dogs, and Snow-Shoes – who
could resist that title? – which I discovered through the British Library’s
ebooks program. Bush, like so many travel and adventure writers of that time,
is a wonderful and companionable describer, and whenever I’m feeling
just too hot here in Mexico, I dip into a couple of chapters, and pretty soon
I’ve cooled down a bit. Fortunately, I bought access to a whole Arctic library
through the British Library’s partner Biblioboards, so even when the Reindeer
have moved out of sight, I’ll still be able to use this
Here is Leavold's own blog, Bamboo Gods and Bionic Boys, "An evolving history of genre filmmaking in the Philippines":
The fine blog Television Obscurities rediscovers a television comedy in five-minute episodes from the year 1949, Ruthie on the Telephone, which aired on CBS every night except Wednesday (and later Sunday) from 7:55 to 8:00 P.M. Unusual!
In a journal I did not even know existed, a neat medical analysis of an excellent film noir about a potential plague outbreak in New Orleans, directed on location by Elia Kazan. The article contains one of the few references I've seen to the film's connection with Albert Camus' novel The Plague, which had appeared in France in 1947 and in English translation in 1948:
In Panic in the Streets we can find some subtle references to the novel by Camus. Members of the crew declare that both the murdered sailor and another stowaway, who died of plague during the course of the voyage, went on board in the city of Oran, the same city where the action of Camus’ novel takes place. Interestingly, Camus was born in Algeria.
When I saw Panic in the Streets for the first time about a decade ago, I wasn't aware of this connection going in, but I caught it immediately when Oran was mentioned in the film, and thought to myself, "Now, THAT is neat!" I hadn't yet read The Plague, a truly great novel, at that time, but I was aware of where it was set.
Sylvie Bigar, "Beneath Martinique's Beauty, Guided by a Poet" at the New York Times:
A nice piece that looks at the relationship between the great Franco-Caribbean poet Aime Cesaire (1913-2008) and his home island of Martinique. At their Learning Network, the Times pairs this article with a poem by Cesaire's protegee Lucie Thesee:
I wish that I might have visited more Caribbean islands by now, but I am lucky to have made it to St. Martin with a side jaunt to nearby Anguilla a few years ago. Respecting Martinique, I have read La Catastrophe, Alwyn Scarth's fine account of the 1902 eruption of Mount Pelee that completely destroyed the then-capital city of St. Pierre and killed its 30,000 inhabitants, leaving but three survivors, one of them a prisoner ironically protected by the thick walls of his prison.
A great selection of photographs from John Thomson's 1878 classic Street Life in London at the Daily Mail:
Things have loosened up in Myanmar/Burma; a few years ago, this piece probably could not have been published. It's a look at the British writer Maurice Collis (1889-1973), who lived in Burma over a twenty-year period, and wrote many books, both fiction and non-fiction, about that country and other subjects.
A few years back I read George Orwell's terribly sad novel Burmese Days, which reflects his time posted in the colony, and followed up with the pseudonymous Emma Larkin's excellent Finding George Orwell in Burma, where Collis shows up in the bibliography. It sounds as if Collis had some of the same issues with the the British colonial administration as Orwell had.
It would be interesting to read some of Collis's output. There is not much in print, and nothing is available in ebook formats (at least not that I have been able to find). This points up one of the limitations of ebooks, that if a work is not yet in the public domain (it's post-1920s, in other words), but is also of limited current commercial interest, the chances of it showing up as an ebook are at the moment rather slim. That situation might improve over time. But I think I'll always be going to second-hand dealers for hard copies of titles that are somewhere in this chasm of lost books (it's much more than a "crack"). This is not completely a hardship, since even though I am very happy with my e-reader (an iPad), I'll never abandon my romance with physical books.