Of course, the opposite argument can be made. In any idea, you must first identify the assumption, then reverse it and begin again. Hence:
I should use a more vicious term than "ideologue" as it is not equivalent to "oppressor," I think.
My buddy C.C. says that while he objects to the polarities, he hates the middle more.
"But C.C.," I kid, "Let's be fair. I can see both sides of the argument. They each bring up good points."
There is the arrogance of the equivocator. Or, perhaps, the position of the marriage counselor.
But of course, we need mediators. There must be compromise. Only poets, artists, and madmen are exempt.
I shot some color film the other day. I like the results. The colors are subtle with the Portra 400, soft and understated. It is expensive, but I am going to shoot more. The picture above is just a low res lab scan that I got back with the film. Nothing special is done or added. I think it is lovely just the way it is.
Yesterday, I was informed late last night, was Bloomsday, not a day for being sober. My buddy who informed me is the same one I mentioned who thought he should quit drinking for a while. Two retired teetotalers looking to an early bed.
I guess its just the natural order of things.
There is a lot I like about that photograph. The crispness of line and the smooth transition of palette in the greys and yellows in the shadows is spectacular. Inanimate staircases may be your next series.
ReplyDeleteThere is a play by Jules Feiffer called “Little Murders” that was about the civil unrest of the late sixties where a comfortable group of New Yorkers take up arms in their apartment and begin shooting people in the streets. It was made into a movie with Alan Arkin, Vincent Gardenia, Marica Ross, Elizabeth Wilson, Elliot Gould and Donald Sutherland in 1971. It was Alan Arkin’s first time as a film director.
It’s a great dark satire. Donald Sutherland steals the film as a hippie preacher who conducts a wedding.
The romantic interest of the play Alfred, played by Elliott Gould is a photographer. He has a great monologue where his art took a bad turn when he was no longer able to take pictures of people – for some reason the people turned out badly but the objects became clearer and clearer until he finally becomes a specialist in taking pictures of a very specific type of object. I think you will get a chuckle out of it.
Start at the third minute of the following clip for the photographer monologue
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_8y6Ib7w17Q
Here is the whole movie
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9mGGu2Hs5lU
Yes. As much as I dislike the polarities, I reserve my greatest loathing for the fat and flatulent middle. The aforementioned play satirizes them. It may be that I just hate people in general. Nobody ever went broke betting on the barbarity, venality, and general hypocrisy of the human species.
Compromise is of course necessary when all parties and evidence are in the room, so to speak. The great middle starts from their position of privilege and being compromised. Their compromised position is one of never budging from the gelatinous pillow of saturated fat in which they are encased. They see both sides of the argument in order not to choose any side. They claim to see shades of gray because their pampered lives are devoid of struggle or suffering. They are the ones who are always screaming “Don’t rock the boat” when in fact all good boats rock – otherwise they’d sink.
I’m done with them all.
I love Jules. He wrote a detective novel called "Akroyd" which was a great postmodern work about identity. Or so I recall. I read it before I knew anything about postmodernism. If memory serves me, though. . . Ha!
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ReplyDeleteAwwwwwww. That's the c.c. I know & love - all that - plays to watch in the middle of a spectacular elitist rant. That's what they'd say ya know. Fuck intelligence and compassion. Barbarians indeed. *kiss* *kiss*
There's a wee bit of Hopper color/light - isn't there?
I just got out of a soak. I spread loam today in a new bed. I'm working. And after soak - sat on the front steps and smoked half a joint. I saw fireflies. But not like I use to see in New Jersey as a kid - when we saved peanut butter jars - punched holes in the metal lid -- tossed in a little grass and then caught them for a while. They are dying - those bioluminescence creatures.
And I know FOR SURE I've typed nearly the same thing here once. But ... I saw some and it was like a little bit of sugar to the tongue.
Then I did some stretching - which felt so damn good. I often get my best stretches well stoned.
Did I tell you? I'm on the wagon. I stopped reading the news. I stopped watching the news (that was a looooong time ago). I look at the NY times Arts and Food. I've taken to doing the crossword puzzles first. Before anything. If someone asked me what happened today in the world - even Trump World - I could honestly say "I haven't a clue." I look at v. funny memes. But that's it.
Joey the Placeholder Bromo Seltzer & friends still send me a thousand emails a day. I need a new clean email account. They are prostituting themselves at the lowest level - and I really have absolutely no problem with prostitutes - but know your value - as Mika says.
I was going to watch more Peter - but Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid is on - I prolly won't be able to stay up long - but there is nothing wrong with falling asleep with the two of them nearby.
Hope your head is full of unicorns and rainbows right now.
Unicorns and rainbows? My head is a bucketful of snakes.
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