I scared myself the other night when I realized that the gap and fear we have been building our entire lives is finally here. That idea that we are soon going to be living in this Nazi type era. Were people all over are going to harm each other for their own common wealth. Well, I guess what scared me is that I already feel that gap is closed. We are already living in it, we are just waiting for who will make the first move to start the chaos. And The reason I believe in this is simply because were going to use life as our excuse to kill for resources. To the point that everything will become a commodity.
Great Article.
http://www.alternet.org/environment/107988/?page=1
I just read this one, its a bit vague. But you can get the actual pdf on there.
http://english.aljazeera.net/news/americas/2008/11/200811211209635276.html
The Nazi's killed for wealth and power. They picked off the most weak for their beliefs. I think this is coming again. And we won't feel like monsters while its happening because will justify it as a need.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Shopping for slavery
As I was shopping with Noney last night via telephone, she was telling me how she always feels bad shopping at target. Loves the prices but always makes her feel morally wrong. I laughingly pretty much responded, we got no choice, all stores are fucked.
I can't stop thinking about it today. Its insane how our country has gone so far out.
You can find something wrong with any company now, and indecency in everything.
For example, The production company I work for is gonna lay off half our staff in the beginning of next year because what they pay one person here to do photoshop they can pay 22 people in india. And thanks to the internet, its super easy and absolutely free.
My mother lost her company earlier this year and now has to work two jobs to keep up with the bills. Her night job verbally abuses her and the conditions are horrible. She feels that she has to put up with it because there is no other work and she doesn't want her finances to fall behind.
Rage is all I've been feeling. I'm just tired of feeling like I can't help the situation anywhere. I don't even know who to blame.
I'm pissed at the World Trade Organization for only being financially responsible for there regulation, instead of environmentally and humanely.
I"m pissed at our country for not looking ahead. I'm pissed that americans have to work two jobs and still have to pay there rent late. I'm pissed that this happens everywhere in the world and us being the strongest most powerful country in the world allow it.
I'm pissed that everything seems so powerfull and massive and untouchable. And I feel like an ant alongside a giant monster.
Positives:
This is the first time in my life that I have felt physically connected to my city and the people around me. This city looks beautiful even in the toughest economical breakdown. And out of this people are being brought together because when we fall on hard times we realize that we need each other.
I can't stop thinking about it today. Its insane how our country has gone so far out.
You can find something wrong with any company now, and indecency in everything.
For example, The production company I work for is gonna lay off half our staff in the beginning of next year because what they pay one person here to do photoshop they can pay 22 people in india. And thanks to the internet, its super easy and absolutely free.
My mother lost her company earlier this year and now has to work two jobs to keep up with the bills. Her night job verbally abuses her and the conditions are horrible. She feels that she has to put up with it because there is no other work and she doesn't want her finances to fall behind.
Rage is all I've been feeling. I'm just tired of feeling like I can't help the situation anywhere. I don't even know who to blame.
I'm pissed at the World Trade Organization for only being financially responsible for there regulation, instead of environmentally and humanely.
I"m pissed at our country for not looking ahead. I'm pissed that americans have to work two jobs and still have to pay there rent late. I'm pissed that this happens everywhere in the world and us being the strongest most powerful country in the world allow it.
I'm pissed that everything seems so powerfull and massive and untouchable. And I feel like an ant alongside a giant monster.
Positives:
This is the first time in my life that I have felt physically connected to my city and the people around me. This city looks beautiful even in the toughest economical breakdown. And out of this people are being brought together because when we fall on hard times we realize that we need each other.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Artist for President
We assert that there is a culture of artists that may be different and
separate from all other cultures and that our culture may be governed or
ungoverned according to principles which non artists find peculiar or
offensive.
We are tired of explaining ourselves.
We are tired of feeling guilty for how we are.
We are sick of feeling like frauds in comparison to people who are just that.
We are tired of making apologies for who we are.
We demand the right to not make sense.
We demand the right to contradict ourselves.
We demand the right to change our work.
We demand the right to call what we do work.
We demand the right not to call what we do work.
We demand the right to align ourselves with the social class we find most
interesting.
We demand the right to call ourselves working class.
We demand the right to be elitist.
We demand the right to do what we want including not doing anything at all.
We ask that our neighborhoods be returned to us.
We condemn the forces of greed that have caused our evictions.
We condemn the forces of greed that have turned us into products.
We condemn periodicals that, in a gladiatorial fashion, pit one artist
against another in a series of picks and pans that erect false antagonisms
and vulgar difference.
We condemn patriarchal drug laws.
We condemn all encroachments on our freedom of speech.
We condemn those who would seek to divide artist culture by developing and
maintaining models of difference based in essentially fascist notions of
race, gender, ethnicity or preference.
We condemn those who would assert that art or artists are anything but
universally found.
We condemn those who blame the artist.
We condemn dealers who do not pay their artists.
We condemn dealers who lie to us.
We condemn dealers who do not return our phone calls.
We condemn dealers who dump us.
We condemn dealers who close their galleries but keep our work.
We condemn dealers who make us do their dirty work.
We condemn dealers who cancel our shows because they can’t support the work.
We condemn dealers who see us as an easy buck.
We condemn any art venue that thinks we like staying in third class hotels.
We condemn any art venue that thinks we can transport our work like a mule.
We condemn any art venue that invites vulgar people to our dinners and
expects us to kiss their ass.
This is for failed artists who feel like failures.
This is for successful artists who feel mauled and mutilated by the empty
promise of stardom.
This is for the faded art star who wonders what went wrong.
This is for artists who never got a chance.
This is for the secret artists who are too embarrassed to admit it.
This is for the artist who found the reception for their retrospective the
most depressing day of their life.
This is for artists who can’t afford to go to the doctor.
This is for artists who can’t afford to have a family.
This is for artists who can’t afford to be artists.
We reserve the right to hate America.
We reserve the right to hate any and all organizations that hate us.
We reserve the right to have contempt for those organizations while enjoying
their privileges.
We reserve the right to be suspicious of the family.
We reserve the right of obscurity.
We reserve the right to make things nobody understands.
We reserve the right to make things nobody likes.
We reserve the right to make things nobody buys and believe they have value.
We condemn efforts to turn art schools into universities.
We condemn efforts to turn art schools in businesses.
We condemn the idea of the artist as manager/ bureaucrat.
We condemn efforts to turn artists into cartoons.
This is for the idealistic artist who still believes.
This is for the tragic artist who accepts.
We reserve the right to escape the moralistic gaze of power.
We demand the right to claim books, records, magazines and cable T.V. as
deductions on our income tax.This is for the artist who wants to describe the adolescent but not be
treated as one.
This is for all the adult male artists suffering under the label “bad boy”.
This is for all female artists who strap it on.
We condemn critics who do not check their facts.
We condemn critics who write reviews from gallery press releases.
We condemn magazines that do not print letters.
We condemn periodicals who do not pay critics.
We condemn periodicals who underpay critics.
We condemn the reactionary support of youth culture.
We condemn museums who don’t clean the glass on our works.
We condemn museums who don’t plug-in our work.
We condemn museums who have chic openings to which none of our friends are
invited.
We condemn institutions who ask us to donate for auctions then don’t invite
us to the event.
We condemn raffles that make our art works into party favors.
We condemn museums as branches of the commercial gallery system.
We condemn museums who are afraid to hire curators with ideas.We condemn museums that can’t stand up to their Board of Directors.
We condemn museums who are cozy with business.
We condemn granting institutions that use funds to curry favor with political
interests.
This is for the young artist.
This is for the early mid-career artist.
This is for the mid-career artist.
This is for the late mid-career artist.
This for the early late-career artist.
This is for the late late-career artist.
This is for the artist suffering from the prescriptive nature of those
categories.
This is for the dead artist.
This is for the dead artist we remember.
This is for the dead artist we forgot.
This is for the dead artist we forgot for awhile but are now remembering.
This is for the artist’s boyfriend.
This is for the artist’s girlfriend.
This is for the artist’s widow.
This is for the artist’s first wife.
We condemn curators who show up late for studio visits.
We condemn curators who make visits with no obvious purpose.
We are insulted by collectors who explain our work to us.
We are insulted by collectors who brag to us about other artist’s work
We are insulted by collectors who think they own us.
This is for artists of all imaginable disadvantage who were not allowed in.
This is for the artist who wanted to quit but knew nothing else.
This is for artists hoping for ideas.
This is for artists hoping for money.
This is for artists looking for a sense of purpose.
This is for artists longing for purposelessness.
We condemn all cultures that allegedly love art but hate artists.
This is artist’s culture.
Meg Cranston 1996-1999
-------------------------------
I found this while searching for grad schools today.
Meg Cranston is a professor of public practice at otis.
separate from all other cultures and that our culture may be governed or
ungoverned according to principles which non artists find peculiar or
offensive.
We are tired of explaining ourselves.
We are tired of feeling guilty for how we are.
We are sick of feeling like frauds in comparison to people who are just that.
We are tired of making apologies for who we are.
We demand the right to not make sense.
We demand the right to contradict ourselves.
We demand the right to change our work.
We demand the right to call what we do work.
We demand the right not to call what we do work.
We demand the right to align ourselves with the social class we find most
interesting.
We demand the right to call ourselves working class.
We demand the right to be elitist.
We demand the right to do what we want including not doing anything at all.
We ask that our neighborhoods be returned to us.
We condemn the forces of greed that have caused our evictions.
We condemn the forces of greed that have turned us into products.
We condemn periodicals that, in a gladiatorial fashion, pit one artist
against another in a series of picks and pans that erect false antagonisms
and vulgar difference.
We condemn patriarchal drug laws.
We condemn all encroachments on our freedom of speech.
We condemn those who would seek to divide artist culture by developing and
maintaining models of difference based in essentially fascist notions of
race, gender, ethnicity or preference.
We condemn those who would assert that art or artists are anything but
universally found.
We condemn those who blame the artist.
We condemn dealers who do not pay their artists.
We condemn dealers who lie to us.
We condemn dealers who do not return our phone calls.
We condemn dealers who dump us.
We condemn dealers who close their galleries but keep our work.
We condemn dealers who make us do their dirty work.
We condemn dealers who cancel our shows because they can’t support the work.
We condemn dealers who see us as an easy buck.
We condemn any art venue that thinks we like staying in third class hotels.
We condemn any art venue that thinks we can transport our work like a mule.
We condemn any art venue that invites vulgar people to our dinners and
expects us to kiss their ass.
This is for failed artists who feel like failures.
This is for successful artists who feel mauled and mutilated by the empty
promise of stardom.
This is for the faded art star who wonders what went wrong.
This is for artists who never got a chance.
This is for the secret artists who are too embarrassed to admit it.
This is for the artist who found the reception for their retrospective the
most depressing day of their life.
This is for artists who can’t afford to go to the doctor.
This is for artists who can’t afford to have a family.
This is for artists who can’t afford to be artists.
We reserve the right to hate America.
We reserve the right to hate any and all organizations that hate us.
We reserve the right to have contempt for those organizations while enjoying
their privileges.
We reserve the right to be suspicious of the family.
We reserve the right of obscurity.
We reserve the right to make things nobody understands.
We reserve the right to make things nobody likes.
We reserve the right to make things nobody buys and believe they have value.
We condemn efforts to turn art schools into universities.
We condemn efforts to turn art schools in businesses.
We condemn the idea of the artist as manager/ bureaucrat.
We condemn efforts to turn artists into cartoons.
This is for the idealistic artist who still believes.
This is for the tragic artist who accepts.
We reserve the right to escape the moralistic gaze of power.
We demand the right to claim books, records, magazines and cable T.V. as
deductions on our income tax.This is for the artist who wants to describe the adolescent but not be
treated as one.
This is for all the adult male artists suffering under the label “bad boy”.
This is for all female artists who strap it on.
We condemn critics who do not check their facts.
We condemn critics who write reviews from gallery press releases.
We condemn magazines that do not print letters.
We condemn periodicals who do not pay critics.
We condemn periodicals who underpay critics.
We condemn the reactionary support of youth culture.
We condemn museums who don’t clean the glass on our works.
We condemn museums who don’t plug-in our work.
We condemn museums who have chic openings to which none of our friends are
invited.
We condemn institutions who ask us to donate for auctions then don’t invite
us to the event.
We condemn raffles that make our art works into party favors.
We condemn museums as branches of the commercial gallery system.
We condemn museums who are afraid to hire curators with ideas.We condemn museums that can’t stand up to their Board of Directors.
We condemn museums who are cozy with business.
We condemn granting institutions that use funds to curry favor with political
interests.
This is for the young artist.
This is for the early mid-career artist.
This is for the mid-career artist.
This is for the late mid-career artist.
This for the early late-career artist.
This is for the late late-career artist.
This is for the artist suffering from the prescriptive nature of those
categories.
This is for the dead artist.
This is for the dead artist we remember.
This is for the dead artist we forgot.
This is for the dead artist we forgot for awhile but are now remembering.
This is for the artist’s boyfriend.
This is for the artist’s girlfriend.
This is for the artist’s widow.
This is for the artist’s first wife.
We condemn curators who show up late for studio visits.
We condemn curators who make visits with no obvious purpose.
We are insulted by collectors who explain our work to us.
We are insulted by collectors who brag to us about other artist’s work
We are insulted by collectors who think they own us.
This is for artists of all imaginable disadvantage who were not allowed in.
This is for the artist who wanted to quit but knew nothing else.
This is for artists hoping for ideas.
This is for artists hoping for money.
This is for artists looking for a sense of purpose.
This is for artists longing for purposelessness.
We condemn all cultures that allegedly love art but hate artists.
This is artist’s culture.
Meg Cranston 1996-1999
-------------------------------
I found this while searching for grad schools today.
Meg Cranston is a professor of public practice at otis.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
ouch! my Face!
fuck! life is so fucking good right now, its insane.
The show last night was awesome. AN HORSE was excellent. I'm glad I picked up the album. The artwork alone is worth the money.
The club on sunday was amazing. Loads of fun.
I think the church would have sent me to straight to hell for marrying so many gays.
Just glad that the first girl I married I've know since Jr. High.
super adorable.
So on my quest to figure out how I'm gonna get my career started next year, I've been looking up people that are where I want to be in the next two years. Last week I found shoot the player. Today I found Natalie Van den Dungen. Simple, easy, fun stuff.
http://vimeo.com/natsvids
This band is fucking great!!!
OUCH! MY FACE! - Obscena Misdemeanour from Natalie van den Dungen on Vimeo.
The show last night was awesome. AN HORSE was excellent. I'm glad I picked up the album. The artwork alone is worth the money.
The club on sunday was amazing. Loads of fun.
I think the church would have sent me to straight to hell for marrying so many gays.
Just glad that the first girl I married I've know since Jr. High.
super adorable.
So on my quest to figure out how I'm gonna get my career started next year, I've been looking up people that are where I want to be in the next two years. Last week I found shoot the player. Today I found Natalie Van den Dungen. Simple, easy, fun stuff.
http://vimeo.com/natsvids
This band is fucking great!!!
OUCH! MY FACE! - Obscena Misdemeanour from Natalie van den Dungen on Vimeo.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Optomistic about US.
"History shows over and over again that reform happens when people at the grassroots organize together, take risks, and refuse to obey."
-Cynthia Peters's.
And even though it was about the presidency it resonated with our battle this week.
Just like we can't let our new president fall under political and corporate pressures.
We need to show him that we will demand change, even if we have to get it ourselves.
"I believe in the power of movements. I believe in all of us."
Please keep coming out and supporting everyone.
Friday night, 7PM, Downtown longbeach.
http://www. petitiononline. com/seg5130/petition-sign. html
-thanks, Mel.
-Cynthia Peters's.
And even though it was about the presidency it resonated with our battle this week.
Just like we can't let our new president fall under political and corporate pressures.
We need to show him that we will demand change, even if we have to get it ourselves.
"I believe in the power of movements. I believe in all of us."
Please keep coming out and supporting everyone.
Friday night, 7PM, Downtown longbeach.
http://www. petitiononline. com/seg5130/petition-sign. html
-thanks, Mel.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Perfect!
"Sometimes when your heart is broken, the best thing is to do all you can to stay sad... Eventually it overflows, and fades away."
-infrawho
-infrawho
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
what a day
Thank god for those two hours we get off to go vote. I think If I had to stay at work another second I would have exploded. I just couldn't deal with all the horrible talk all the guys around me were spewing from there mouths. All the negative talk on Prop 8 at work was making me loose my mind. It just made me realize that all these macho guys were protecting there ego's. There response to everything was machista, I couldn't help loose respect for them.
It's crazy, I guess when you surround yourself with people you forget that there are a lot of other people in the world. with much different circumstances and points of views. I completely thought we had that one in the bag, for moral reasons alone.
While I was riding my bike to the poll place I felt so good. I realized that TODAY we are making history. This day is going to be in every future history book. I had my sheet ready and couldn't wait, I felt progress in the air. As I turned the corner to discover my polling place, it was a church that besides today was infested with Yes on Prop 8 signs. As I entered the building I couldn't help feel discouraged.
that's when fear set in. I don't feel like were gonna win this one. All month I have seen those signs and I just figured it was common sense to not agree with them. It made me realize that there is tons of people that aren't aware of how important this really was. It kinda kills me that even my girlfriends mom voted yes. It made me wonder how many people out there don't think they are connected to the gay community. And if they did, would they change there mind, knowing that they are physically connected to a human being.
Hope still lingers.
-------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------
On my bike ride to the bank. As I waited for my roommate outside A postal driver exited the post office across the street. His rear door wide open, A mail cart comes crashing out Almost cosing two accidents. The cart stayed in the middle of the road causing a major traffic jam. I saw all the cars driving around it and avoiding the situation instead of solving it, I decided to do it myself. I almost died crossing the major street with absolutely no cars stopping for me. I returned the cart to the office and As I waited to tell someone that there cart was returned, the woman came out and gave me the worst gaze. completely thinking I was trying to steal the Deam thing. I couldn't believe it! Why are we so untrustworthy?
Nothing ever works out I guess.
We can only hope for the best. & if not..resist
It's crazy, I guess when you surround yourself with people you forget that there are a lot of other people in the world. with much different circumstances and points of views. I completely thought we had that one in the bag, for moral reasons alone.
While I was riding my bike to the poll place I felt so good. I realized that TODAY we are making history. This day is going to be in every future history book. I had my sheet ready and couldn't wait, I felt progress in the air. As I turned the corner to discover my polling place, it was a church that besides today was infested with Yes on Prop 8 signs. As I entered the building I couldn't help feel discouraged.
that's when fear set in. I don't feel like were gonna win this one. All month I have seen those signs and I just figured it was common sense to not agree with them. It made me realize that there is tons of people that aren't aware of how important this really was. It kinda kills me that even my girlfriends mom voted yes. It made me wonder how many people out there don't think they are connected to the gay community. And if they did, would they change there mind, knowing that they are physically connected to a human being.
Hope still lingers.
-------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------
On my bike ride to the bank. As I waited for my roommate outside A postal driver exited the post office across the street. His rear door wide open, A mail cart comes crashing out Almost cosing two accidents. The cart stayed in the middle of the road causing a major traffic jam. I saw all the cars driving around it and avoiding the situation instead of solving it, I decided to do it myself. I almost died crossing the major street with absolutely no cars stopping for me. I returned the cart to the office and As I waited to tell someone that there cart was returned, the woman came out and gave me the worst gaze. completely thinking I was trying to steal the Deam thing. I couldn't believe it! Why are we so untrustworthy?
Nothing ever works out I guess.
We can only hope for the best. & if not..resist
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