Monday, December 28, 2009

I've got a Golden Record

My last bit of looking into Carl Sagan info led me to the Golden Record placed on the Pioneer 10 and 11 spacecraft. I am not the first person to be enamored with this strangely poetic and beautiful gesture -- I think that was part of the point, but here are my thoughts anyway.

I am interested in what is actually ON the record, since I only have a vague idea.

There is an article from the New York Times called The Mix Tape of the Gods which I thought sounded good too.



According to wikipedia, you can get the CD from various libraries. "A CD-ROM version was issued by Warner New Media in 1992[9]. Both versions are out of print, but the 1978 edition can be found in many college or public libraries."

Anyway, the wikipedia article about it (Voyager Golden Record) is full of really intriguing and interesting ideas.

"thus the record is best seen as a time capsule or a symbolic statement rather than a serious attempt to communicate with extraterrestrial life."

"This is a present from a small, distant world, a token of our sounds, our science, our images, our music, our thoughts and our feelings. We are attempting to survive our time so we may live into yours.”
— U.S. President Jimmy Carter

"After NASA had received criticism over the nudity on the Pioneer plaque (line drawings of a naked man and woman), the agency chose not to allow Sagan and his colleagues to include a photograph of a nude man and woman on the record. Instead, only a silhouette of the couple was included."


Random fact:
"After the Pioneer Program, NASA put a Golden Record aboard the two Voyager spacecrafts, which included a greeting "Hello from the children of planet Earth." That was recorded by then six-year-old Nick Sagan, Carl's son." (from a blog of random facts)

Glorious Dawn - Carl Sagan

A few months ago, this fantastic video remix of various things Carl Sagan said went viral and basically everyone I knew online was talking about it. When I heard it, I immediately became mildly obsessed with it, listened to it 8 times, and then proceeded to send it to everyone else I knew, as is expected of something like this. The person who made it also made the video and mp3 available for free (bless them) so I have them in my permanent possession now :) but I also have it linked here.



Anyway, I didn't know much about Carl Sagan except for the very brief and wonderful love story about him and Ann Druyan and their work on the golden record included in the Voyager expedition from the Radiolab episode about Space. So I went on a cursory search of information about him beginning with the Carl Sagan wikipedia article.

There are so many reasons to find him and his work totally fascinating, not the least of which is his apparent talent of bringing complex scientific ideas to average people. I feel like he is a great example of someone whose passion for something exceeds that thing's natural appeal in such a way that makes it accessible to everyone else around him. For instance, take this sentence from the Wikipedia article which . . . says as much "Sagan's ability to convey his ideas allowed many people to better understand the cosmos—simultaneously emphasizing the value and worthiness of the human race, and the relative insignificance of the earth in comparison to the universe."

Also, this: "Isaac Asimov described Sagan as one of only two people he ever met whose intellect surpassed his own." I think this speaks to my general fascination with people who are brilliant and my nerd-crushes on all of them.

And also, some really interesting stuff about UFO's and . . . other things which remind me of the X-Files and are great. :) (I did find a mention of the particular episode that I was thinking of, by the way, on a wikipedia article about the Pioneer 10 spacecraft that they sent the golden record on. . . . "In the X-Files episode "Little Green Men", Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 2 can be heard whilst characters discuss the Golden Record.")


Here is something further about the remix that I didn't know: "In 2009, clips from Carl Sagan's Cosmos were used as the basis for A Glorious Dawn, the first video produced for the Symphony of Science, an educational music video production by composer John Boswell. Musician Jack White later released this song as a vinyl single under his record label Third Man Records.[51] Additional clips were used in the followup video, We Are All Connected, which featured Sagan alongside other noted scientists Richard Feynman, Neil Degrasse Tyson, and Bill Nye" I think this might be from Wikipedia or something. Not sure.

Sunday, December 27, 2009

More on Rats

For whatever reason, I am still harping on rats. I started researching rats a little bit, as broadly as possible.

Here are some wikipedia articles that I thought were interesting as a starting point:
Fancy Rat
Model Organism
Laboratory Rat


Rat Traps
I stumbled upon an absolutely horrific, heartbreaking video on youtube (which I refuse to link to here) that shows a rat caught in a sticky trap, choking on sticky glue and twitching as it tries in vain to free itself. That video actually makes me hate humans . . . and decide that people really are a bunch of bastards. I cant really understand how we can do things like that to other animals. I know I sound like a overly sentimental person or something, but I think the unnecessary torturous death of another living thing is objectively awful. And I'd like to see the rats get revenge. Its a nice idea anyway :)


I hate to post this one, but it makes me want to cry. I thought maybe it was a cartoony sort of image before I clicked on it, but once I realized how sad it was . . .

This leads me to following question: How can people kill rats when there are photos out there like this:

In all seriousness, though, what makes us feel like we can just kill them? Is it their size? What if they were the size of dogs and cats, how would we feel about it then? We have no problem killing insects, but the further up the food-chain we get (or rather the closer to mammals we get) the less comfortable we are with treating them as pests.


Rat-baiting
Another thing that people do (or did anyway) with rats is throw them into a rat pit and have dogs (rat terriers, go figure, jack russels, etc.) try to kill as many as possible within a certain time frame. This is called rat baiting. This is interesting to me for a couple of reasons.
  1. Again, people are bastards
  2. This is a connection to dogs in an unexpected way that I tend to forget about . . . the way dogs were often used for cruel things, not just to each other, such as pit-bull fighting, but towards other animals
  3. People often make a big deal about laboratory animals being treated cruelly, but it seems to me that compared to the other ways rats can die (sticky trap, being smashed in a trap and left to suffocate, or perhaps having their necks wrung by dogs in a pit), lab-rat life is not so inhumane after all. I might revise my thoughts on that if I ever actually spent time in a laboratory setting. . . but. . .
maybe the glitter blood thing can go with the rat pit. . . or maybe not.


Rats and Garbage in NYC
I also came upon an interesting video talking about rats in New York City. It was really interesting their relationship to garbage and waste - rat expert talks about how WE provide our waste garbage on the streets in NY and then of course there are tons of rats as a result.

Some thoughts on rats
  • rats have so left the naimals kingdom and are now the property of science - when you think of rats its either garbage rats or genetically engineered things living in cages. I should make a really huge one. out of scale. really smart one?
  • do the rats with all kinds of crazy electrodes on them maybe all connected with glitter. :) glitter red eyes? :) ha. Ok, enough with the glitter.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Excellent use of glitter

So here is a video that I first saw because it was directed by Richard Ayoade (of the IT Crowd, and Jesse Thorn posted it of course). I don't know much about music videos, but I actually really liked this one a lot. You can watch it here: Heads Will Roll by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. I thought it was very artful. And what's more, there was excellent use of glitter. :) As we all know, good uses of glitter are few and far between, so I'm really pleased with the way the video uses confetti-type paper, glitter, etc. to evoke blood and guts without actually grossing people out with real blood and guts. :)

In case the video is taken down someday, I went to the trouble of taking a few screenshots of parts that I thought were kind of awesome and that also use glitter.








This makes me think - if glitter is meant to be cute and bright and fun, and they do a bang-up job of using it for something gross and unpleasant, perhaps I can utilize that structure in order to get some of that damn glitter into my own work. Hopefully as successfully and non-tacky as this video did.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Profusion. Repetition. Delightful.


This image is one that stuck in my mind ever since I first saw it, so the other day, I decided to figure out who on earth made these things and what their deal was. :) It didn't take long to find Sandy Skoglund and a whole series of other fairly famous images of profuse repetition of clay animals. I remember seeing an installation somewhere. . . maybe at the Des Moines Art Center, though her work is both the installation and color photographs.


Then there is this photo, which I came across the other day while looking up an artist who has had an exhibit at the Memorial Union in Ames, Iowa, named Mark Kochen. According to a postcard, "Mark Kochen is a self described “serial artist” living in Sioux City, Iowa. His works focus on everyday objects presented in a whimsical and repetitious manner. Brains, televisions, mice, blenders, sheep and many others are painted by the hundreds, exposing minute variations in a seemingly identical array of similar objects." The rest of his work is paintings, but he had a handful of images on his website, this being one of them, referred to as a serial photo.

And then this:

Chris Van Allsburg's book Jumanji. I couldn't find the pictures of all the animals in kitchen, but I have this memory of a room where there are a whole bunch. Not to mention the mysterious magical quality of his illustrations.

And now to point out the obvious. I see a visual intersection here that I am really interested in and want to explore.

I am extremely interested in these types of images for a few reasons. One is that I think excess is on the one hand delightful - repetition and profusion are inherently a little funny to me, though probably less so if the profusion was a hoard of cockroaches or something. Also, excess is so related to American-ness. It seems gross and a little out of control to have a whole bunch of something, even a whole bunch of tiny somethings, and yet having a whole bunch is really secure and safe, like you can just loose them or break them and no matter, you always have more. It decreses the value of the individual things to you, but increases your value by having so many.

Rats.

So . . . maybe all my life, or at least since I read the Rats of NIMH, I have been sort of enamored and delighted by rats. Admittedly, this is perhaps because I have grown up in the place where rats are part of a clean, scientific, laboratory environment, where they demonstrate their bright intelligence and resemblance to other adorable mammals such as dogs, and not in the place where the rats harbor diseases, run across your face while you are sleeping, and destroy your only food. I keep returning to the subject of rats as something I'd to use in my artwork, though my rationale is still hazy.

For one thing, rats are smart. I love that. They are pioneers - the first to test out practically every biologically-related study that we try. This may or may not be true, but it at least seems that way . . . that it is easy to associate rats with science and with being on the cutting edge of scientific advancement, whether or not we want them to be. I just recently came to the realization that the NIHM in "Rats of NIMH" stands for the National Institute of Mental Health, and that explains the whole premise of those books. This news, by the way, blew my mind and was the source of great thrill and excitement for several days.

There is, of course, the ethical issue of rats being kept in cages, running around in mazes, and being killed through painful or horrifying scientific testing.

Not sure just yet what I might want to do with this.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Characteristics of narrative from the perspective of developmental cultural psychology

The third chapter in Jerome Bruner's book "Acts of Meaning" discusses personal narrative and the way it relates to development.

“I have been at great pains to argue (and will argue further later in this chapter) that one of the most ubiquitous and powerful discourse forms in human communication is narrative.” 77

This next part is particularly interesting to me:

“Narrative requires, as mentioned in the preceeding chapter, four crucial grammatical constituents if it is to be effectively carried out. It requires, first, a means for emphasizing human action or “agentivity”—action directioned toward goals controlled by agents. It requires, secondly, that a sequential order be established and maintained—that events and states be “linearized” in a standard way. Narrative, thirdly, also requires a sensitivity to what is canonical and what violates canonicality approximating a narrator’s perspective: it cannot, in the jargon of narratology, be “voiceless.” 77

In this quotation, i think he is referring to language acquisition readiness.
“A second requirement is early readiness to mark the unusual and leave the usual unmarked – to concentrate attention and information processing on the offbeat.” 78.

“Roman Jakobson told us many years ago, the very act of speaking is an act of marking the unusual from the usual.” 79

He argues that we have an “innate” predisposition for narrative structure and that push influences our readiness to learn the basics of narrative before we learn other kinds of logic and structure.

Bruner discusses talking to ourselves on 88 “John Dewey proposed that language provides a way of sorting out our thoughts about the world. . . .” and proceeds to use the example of a little girl named Emily who talked to herself at night, recited books, talks about what she did all day and what she thought she would do tomorrow. I think is fascinating as it relates to childhood, development, storytelling, children’s literature, journal writing, and maybe even prayer.

“But looking closely at the transcripts and listening to the tapes, there were times when we had the irrestible impression that Emily’s leaps forward in speech were fueled by a need to construct meaning, more particularly narrative meaning.”

Finally makes some mention at the end of how in general primatologists and others make too much of an emphasis on how primates (including people) engage in conflict and aggression and fail to note the amazing ways we keep peace, which he doesn’t explicitly say this but it seems that he is getting at narrative as a peace-keeping and conflict-resolving structure (he does say that) and that fact may mean that it has allowed us to evolutionarily select for narrative skills. I’m sure there are other ways to note how narrative is important for maintaining collective society which seems to be a big trait we’ve evolved for. . .

Another text in my mind lately is a chapter from an un-named book by Peggy Miller (the instructor of the cultural developmental psychology class I took my first semester of graduate school) called Narrative Practices: Their role in socialization and self-construction. (I got it in PDF form for class).

This chapter introduces the idea of self-construction which I think is fascinating in relationship to other things I have read and heard about narrative.

“Because both the experience of the self and the events in a story are organized with respect to time, narrative is especially well suited to representing self-continuity.” 160. This of course reminds me of the Radiolab interview with Paul Broks “If you ask me who I am, I’ll tell you a story.” And Robert Krulwich's "my self is the story of what has happened to my body over time." The fact that so often in our psychology readings (these readings included) narrative is tentatively heralded as a cultural universal also lends itself to support of this viewpoint of narrative as a vital way of constructing self.

This particular chapter goes into interesting detail about the ways that cultural values influence how the storyteller casts themselves or another protagonist – for example, the toughness and cleverness valued in the South Baltimore families, the “self-favorability” bias or the tendency to value the kids independence, and how these values then shape the way the narrator creates their own persona in the story.

Finally, there is one more side note that I found to be particularly interesting:

“This brings us to the issue of memory. When approached via personal storytelling, remembering emerges as a process that occurs in the service of something else. Events are not remembered for the sake of remembering, but for the sake of creating tellable stories about the self.” 175.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

"An Insane Idiot And His Collection Of Descending-Size Deer Heads"

Also related to this museum/weird stuff collection business. . . but much, much funnier, is this transcript from an old SNL sketch written by none other than Jack Handy. Again, the fact that I have seen this and enjoyed it is because of Jesse Thorn and his wonderful podcasts. :)

An Insane Idiot And His Collection Of Descending-Size Deer Heads

Saturday, September 26, 2009

"The Museum of Jurassic Technology"

At the end of our seminar class the other night, we watched a "cheesy" video (Ryan Griffis' description) about the Museum of Jurassic Technology in California.

The film we watched is called "Inhaling the Spore" and focuses on David Wilson, the museum creator, and the magic of his creation. I was thoroughly delighted, overjoyed, and enchanted by the whole film and the people in it, and frantically wrote notes in the dark as we watched.

I wrote:
This guy is the embodiment of it! So curious - accordion-playing on the street, such a wonderful, magical sort of man. Like a wizard.

Old museums are related to a "cabinet of curiosity" and made no distinctions between god-made or man-made, beauty or grotesque. Somehow they were just "out of the realm of ordinary experience."

(Example, the carved fruit stone who's caption card told of the myriad of impossibly complex animals carved into it. It "Plays with your credulity when it comes to those side captions" but there really IS one of those fruit stones to those exact specifications somewhere else.) Its amazing what you will believe because the side caption tells you to.

"We don't know exactly why they laugh, but we think its wonderful." David Wilson says

The book written about this museum is called "Mr. Wilson's Cabinet Of Wonder: Pronged Ants, Horned Humans, Mice on Toast, and Other Marvels of Jurassic Technology" by Lawrence Weschler. And I very much want to read it.

on "Travels in Hyperreality"

After listening to one of my absolute favorite episodes of This American Life, called Simulated Worlds for the millionth time, I decided I would actually read Umberto Eco's essay that Ira Glass references in the beginning of the show. I actually read almost all his essays in the collection of them, combined under the aforementioned title. (The other really wonderful one is about blue jeans.) What follows are my notes.

Travels in Hyperreality
Umberto Eco
Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, Publishers. San Diego, New York, London c. 1983.
Umberto Eco is a novelist, professor of semiotics . .

P. 34
“In an excellent essay on Disneyland as “degenerate utopia” (“a degenerate utopia is an ideology realized in the form of a myth”), Louis Marin analyzed the structure of that 19th century frontier city street that receives entering visitors and distributes them through the various sectors of the magic city.”

This is interesting for this “degenerate utopia” idea and I think I should concentrate more on what that means.

Futher on that,
“In this sense, Disneyland is more hyperrealistic than the wax museum, precisely because the latter still tries to make us believe that what we are seeing reproduces reality absolutely, whereas Disneyland makes it clear that within its magic enclosure it is fantasy that is absolutely reproduced. The Palace of the Living Arts presents its Venus de Milo as almost real, whereas Disneyland can permit itself to present its reconstructions as masterpieces of falsification, for what it sells, indeed, goods, but genuine merchandise, not reproductions. What is falsified is our will to buy, which we take as real, and in this sense Disneyland is really the quintessence of consumer ideology.”

p. 46
“The pleasure of imitation, as the ancients knew, is one of the most innate in the human spirit; but here we not only enjoy a perfect imitation, we also enjoy the conviction that imitation has reached its apex and afterwards reality will always we inferior to it.”
(this is referring to the “Audio-Animatronic” technique in Disneyland like the pirates of the carribean and how “humans could do no better and would cost more” and so these fakes are better than reality.)

p. 53
“For the distance between Los Angeles and New Orleans is equal to that between Rome and Khartoum, and it is the spatial, as well as the temporal, distance that drives this country to construct not only imitations of the past and of exotic lands but also imitations of itself.”

I think I found this interesting because it talks about kinds of distance ? And I think that distance (temporal, spatial, and cognitive) is . . . interesting.

p. 57
“Where Good, Art, Fairytale, and History, unable to become flesh, must at least become Plastic.” (talking about America, a place where. . .)

p. 275
“The comic seems to belong to the people, liberating, subversive, because it gives license to violate the rule. But it gives such license precisely to those who have so absorbed the rule that they also presume it inviolable. The rule violated by the comic is so acknowledged that there is no need to reaffirm it. That is why carnival can take place only once a year. It takes a year of ritual observance for the violation of the ritual precepts to be enjoyed. . . “

I wonder what Eco would say about the Museum of Jurassic Technology? New thing I learned the other day: Ira Glass' degree is in Semiotics. No wonder he reads from Umberto Eco for like half of that episode! It all makes so much more sense now. :)

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Ira Glass on narrative

So obviously someone credited with bringing narrative and literary non-fiction to the fore of radio is going to talk a lot about narrative. :) And this means there is a wonderful selection of resources out there regarding narrative and narrative construction.

One of my favorites is that short series that Ira Glass did for current TV that you can watch on youtube.




Also, in Jesse Thorn's interview with Ira Glass, they discuss narrative a little. Jesse asks him a great question about whether or not he sees the narrative bias in the media is problematic, to which Ira admits that it can be in a news setting (creates this "horse race" story rather than a presentation of more factual information). I always hear so much praise for narrative, its natural and basically universal presence in human thought and conversation, and its benefits in remembering, relating, and learning information, so it hadn't occurred to me that narrative is not always the best or most effective structure.

They also talked about the Improv everywhere story and Jesse mentioned that he was upset by the fact that the story told on This American Life was not accurate or representative of what Improv Everywhere does or even the spirit of Improv Everywhere. Ira responds, "I have no interest in Improv everywhere" not the straight news story that is representative but rather a story that is compelling b/c it has a plot and characters (in this case, the time when they messed up.) It's not "representative" of the group but it is a good story, the time it didn't work, the time something went wrong. This is a good point about narrative too - the conflict is what makes it interesting.

So it seems that narrative can be problematic in the sense that it demands certain qualities in order to be compelling, and sometimes the reality or truth of the situation doesn't offer those qualities. It reminds me of the psychology studies we were reading in my Developmental Cultural Psychology class about didactic narratives in European-American homes vs. Chinese homes. In the American situation, parents downplay children's wrongdoings and instead highlight what is funny or enjoyable about the child's transgression. And they also love to tell "hell-raising" stories about themselves when they were kids. This is puzzling and maybe even appalling to the Chinese parents, who emphasize respect for elders. My thought while reading these articles was a curiosity about the role that our entertainment-heavy culture has in our own interpersonal storytelling. Do Americans feel the need to make humorous, entertaining stories, casting ourselves as interesting characters and manipulating the narrative to be more compelling than it perhaps really is? How does this compare to other cultures general storytelling practices?

Saturday, September 5, 2009

On the merits of Dogs

As a young person, recently graduated from college, full of knowledge and the hope of change and progress, the world seems to be a place of opportunity. It feels as if whatever we have been waiting for has finally arrived - freedom, adulthood. . . It seems to be full of essentially good people, some of which sucumb to terrible vices, but on the whole the net worth of creation is good. This is also an awkward time where we begin to awaken to the reality of beuracracy, selfishness, politics, and falseness. We are beginning to experience disolutionment, disenfranchisement, and disapointment in the greater things we used to admire - our country, religion, the institution of marriage, even the working world.

Dogs, on the otherhand, represent a sweet spirit. An inherently loving, accepting, being. If you ignore them for a week and come home, they are not angry at you for leaving, but thrilled that you are back again. They forgive endlessly. They are the opposition to this criticism and disappointment because they fill their lives with seeking and joy in the simple pursuits of food, attention, play, and sleep. There is no striving, so advancement, just the here and now. They are not so much hedonistic as they are appreciative, grateful, and completely lost in the moment in which they are alive.

Another thing that appeals to me about the dogs - dogs are not capable of irony. I guess there is nothing ironic or affected or cynical about a dog. They simply can't be. And it's wonderful.

There is something honest and straightforward about them, and this appeals to me, but is this enough? [to make them the subject of artwork?] They seem like a refreshing antidote to . . . um . . . everything :)

They offer uncomplicated social interaction - no pretenses. They are happy to see you, you are happy to see them, their tail wags. You can do nothing wrong. You can't talk too much or too little, you , there is no such thing as being akward.

In part, I think that I paint the dogs as a counter to this disapointment. I am trying desperately to ward off cynicism, and something in the sheer joy of these creatures seems to do that.

Benevolence

The following quotes are from Ira Glass in his introduction to the New Kings of Nonfiction.

10
"One thing i love about Weschler and Orlean (and, come to think of most of these writers) is their attitude toward the people they're writing about. Weschler is clearly skeptical of his protagonist, Akumal. Orlean is not in argument with her ten-year old. But they try to get inside their protagonist's heads with a degree of empathy that's unusual. Theirs is a ministry of love, in a way we don't usually discuss reporters feelings toward their subjects. Or at least, they're willing to see what is loveable about the people they're interviewing. (Weschler's an ineresting case when it comes to this, because he's mildly annoyed by his main character for the early part of his story, and then comes to have an ovious and real affection for him.)

14
In that environment, these stories are a kind of beacon. By making stories full of empathy and amusement and the sheer pleasure of discovering the world, these writers reassert the fact that we live in a world where joy and empathy and pleasure are all around us, there for the noticing. They make the world seem like an exciting place to live. I come out of them feeling like a better person -- more awake and more aware and more appreciative of everything around me. That's a hard thing for any kind of writing to accomplish. In times when the media can seem so clueless and beside the point, that's a great comfort in itself."

Storytelling and "intertexuality" from Barry Glassner

Here is a short piece of commentary from Barry Glassner's book The Culture of Fear: Why Americans Are Afraid of the Wrong Things.

163
"Parallel reports from large numbers of ordinary peole do not necessarily add up to truth. People often tell similar stories that are not accurate descriptions of reality, as any anthropologist or police officer can testify. Like novelists or playwrights, regular folks adopt common images, plot lines, and themes--elements of what literary crtics call intertextuality-- in telling stories about themselves."

I think this is interesting because is goes back to this narrative thing. And it might be cool to explore visually what these common narratives (alien abductions sound the same, near death experiences, blah blah blah) or other examples of common narratives. . . what they look like. Also, what this term "intertexuality" means further.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Sincerity before I could articulate it. . .

I guess for me, this is the central conflict of my work and perhaps my own life - I am wedged squarely between two opposing ideas. That we should celebrate and be thankful for and enjoy the humor of the excesses and abundances and over-the-topness of our country, and meanwhile we should ashamed of it, disgusted by it.

On the one hand, I want to be serious about these issues, but on the other, I want to have a sense of humor. To laugh at something that is so blatantly too much . . . I mean, things that are grossly out of proportion are in and of themselves somewhat funy, aren't they? I really love that Jim Gaffigan joke about explaining dessert to someone in a starving country (actually mentioned in another posting). I think it his the nail on the head because there is something almost laughable about this fact when we put it into context. He navigates this line well because it is really a horrific thing and the guilt that would accompany actually explaining dessert to someone starving face to face is crushing, but it's told with a sense of humor, with an appreciation for what is unbeleivably funny about the situation. How does one do this visually?

Father Ted and Humor


So, listening to the interview with Graham Linehan and Arthur Matthews (I think on the DVD extras), they described how they took these stereotypes of Irish people (drunk priest, super-nice lady) and took them to ludacris dimensions, so that it was nearly impoosibble for it to be taken seriously. And that got me thinking how wonderfully complicated humor is. Aside from the people-falling-down humor, which is pretty basal and easy to understand, there is so much more sophistication involved in humor. Even in this case, where the joke of a priest being so drunk that he will literally drink anything, including floor polish, and who hasn't been sober in 2 years, which is not that complex of a joke in and of itself, is making a bigger, more complicated joke about Irish steretopes. And I realized that without that little explanation, I might not have understaood the bigger joke. I mean, when I first saw the show, I thought - aren't Irish people offended by all these stereotypes? It worries me that so much can be lost on me.

I also think that so often, I see images and I think "this is funny." but I can't explain why. And I think I'd prefer not to, but maybe if I could, then I can exploit or expand the joke to me to make the image more . . . like the Culver's man walking down the street after the parade. That is funny to me. It's just funny.

Friday, August 28, 2009

On the X-Files . . .

I continue to return to the X-files as something I admire and am in awe of. I say this not simply because the X-Files was my chosen object for the junior-high obession phase of my life, nor because to this day, if I were to taylor-make the phsyical specifications of an ideal man, he would undoubtedly be either David Duchnovy or Jim Sturgess, but because after retrospective examination and, I hope, a better sense of objective consideration, I think the show actually did a number of things very well. In particular, the dual ability to portray something at this at immediate in its enterainment value - compelling, interesting, and unique, while aslo more subtlely (or perhaps not) addressing much bigger things. The show grapples, of course, with huge, metaphysical issues both literally and more symbolically, but does so in such a way that the audience may not even realize what truly meaningful points are being raised. "I want to Believe" and "Trust no one" are iconic phrases, easily dismissed as part-and-parcel of a show dedicated to paranoia and drama. But for me, the way the show considers these big ideas using the specifc storylines of government cover-ups, alien abductions, and folklore finding real atecedents, allows me to temporarily forget about the biases I have when thinking about belief in my own life. Not to be too revealing or self-indulgent, but as a person who once felt a great presence of faith in my personal life and then progressively lost that sense of faith, the phrase "I want to believe" is incredibly compelling because it is true. What I think mainstream attempts for conversion or even discussion of belief are missing is that sometimes it is best to consider the basis of belief, the desire for it, and its relatioship to who you are in a whole different context.

For another example, listen to this great NPR interview with David Duchovny, who I deem a perfectly legitimate scholarly reference, by the way, since he was on his way to a masters degree in English from Princeton before changing paths in life. As you will hear, for him, the episode where a player in the Negro League turns out to be an alien, while entetaining in its own right, is also playing with the themes of aliens and alientation. fantastic.

To weave these additional layers of meaning into otherwise creative/entertaining projects takes talent. Making direct statements about these topics often falls flat, has no appeal, and no staying power. And making the creative material that is basically the mental equivalent of eating popcorn makes no demands of the intellect at all.

This duality of the xfiles, to be at once entertaining and enjoyable and, upon closer, nerdier inspection, an attempt to explore something much larger and more universal, is something I admire in a number of forms of enterainment. Jonathan Coulton songs, for instance.

It is a perfeclty nerdy thing to do . . . take something well beyond its face value and inscribe great levels of meaning and significance to all its actions. The same fervor with which I applied my interest in knowing episode names and quotes as a 7th grade girl has morphed into an adult interest in the larger structure, the behind-the-scenes creative work which directed these fascinating details into a compelling story. This nerdy tendency is perhaps why shows like the X-Files or music like Jonathan Coulton's is so interesting to those of us who over-analyize a little too much.

Making complex narratives

Also, I was thinking about the Simpsons (thought other shows do this too) where there will be a main storyline but then a sub-story that intersects every once in awhile but mostly just happens on its own, or the show begins with its own little scene, a short set of jokes that really doesn't do anything for the main plot of the show, but is just funny, and I think they talked about that with Fr. Ted too (the authors) how they would conceive of a show by having 2 or 3 funny scenes that were just funny in and of themselves, because of their set-up or situation, and then build around them. Set peices kind of a thing. So that makes me think about how I can repeat characters or jokes in a painting narrative or how I can have a sub-character or literally a background story going on, adding other characters that support or intersect. . . . trying to make the narrative more complex or make more layers to what is going on. I wonder if I can tell a story in a room but not necessarily in order. Not a linear story, but scenes, a moment and maybe not of an event, the way our mind goes back and forth from flashes of long ago to yesterday to whatever. Hmmmm.

"The Evolution of Introspective Consciousness"

Another fascinating tid-bit from the Radiolab episode "Who Am I?"

Then they talked about V.S. Ramachandran's theory about the evolution of introspective consciousness and how there is something uniquely human in our ability to construct narrative or story. . And I wonder to myself about how central this notion of story really is to human beings. Which leads me also to think about how Ira Glass talks about narrative and its importance or familiarity (in structuring This American Life) . . . and then i move to what my paintings can be in terms of narrative qualities. . . what are narrative paintings like. . and how do we strip them of narrative or add narrative. . . I read in maybe a New American paintings about artists who aim to "strip the works of their narrative quality" (I think in that case, it was removing background context for a figure). . . but what does it mean to strip the paintings of narrative quality and does that affect their meaning (like Landau's TMT stuff - abstract and unlikable :)) and the importance of a picture in your head in creating that narrative in our minds. . . they talk about how we "juggle" symbols in our minds - make things that can't exist anywhere in nature - LETS WRITE A THESIS! :)

Self is a story

"The self is the story of what's happened to that body over time." (Paul Broks)
So what you are saying is that we are essentially a narrative? (paraphrased Robert Krulwich)
"if you ask me about msyelf, i'll tell you a story." (Paul Broks)

Exactly.
This is from a Radiolab episode ("Who Am I?"), by the way, and Paul Broks wrote Into the Silent Land: Travels in Neuropsychology which I can't remember if I attempted to read or not.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Velveteen Rabbit or How Toys Become Real

Remember how much that velveteen rabbit story destroyed you as a kid? What a terrible thing to imagine, as a child, your little stuffed animal that you treasure, being burned because you got your filthy germs all over it?


"The Velveteen Rabbit or How Toys Become Real is a children's novel written by Margery Williams and illustrated by William Nicholson. It chronicles the story of a stuffed rabbit and his quest to become real through the love of his owner.

A boy receives a Velveteen Rabbit for Christmas. The Velveteen Rabbit is snubbed by other more expensive or mechanical toys, the latter of which fancy themselves real. One day while talking with the Skin Horse, the Rabbit learns that a toy becomes real if its owner really and truly loves it.

When the boy's china dog is misplaced, the Velveteen Rabbit is given to the boy as a quick replacement by the maid. The Velveteen Rabbit soon takes his place as the boy's constant companion. The Rabbit becomes shabbier, but the boy loves him no matter what. In the woods near the boy's home, the Velveteen Rabbit meets actual rabbits, and learns about the differences between himself and the real rabbits when the real rabbits prove he is not real by his inability to hop or jump or his shedding fur.

The Velveteen Rabbit's companionship with the boy lasts until the boy falls ill with scarlet fever. The boy becomes too ill to play for a very long time; upon his recovery, he is sent to the seaside on doctor's orders. The boy wishes to take the Rabbit with him, but his doctor forbids him to take the germ-laden toy and says it must be burned along with all the nursery toys in order to disinfect the nursery. The boy is given a new plush rabbit with glass eyes and is so excited about the trip to the seaside that he forgets his old Velveteen Rabbit. While awaiting the bonfire, in which the Velveteen Rabbit will be burned, the Rabbit cries a real tear. This tear brings forth the Nursery Magic Fairy. She tells the Rabbit that he was only real to the boy and brings him to the woods, where he realizes that he is a real rabbit at last and runs to join the other rabbits in the wild.

The following spring, the boy sees the Rabbit hopping in the wild and thinks he looks like his old Velveteen Rabbit, but he never knows that it actually was. The Rabbit, however, knows that he used to be an old stuffed animal and the boy had loved him.

From the Wikipedia article The Velveteen Rabbit

I can't even begin to unpack how great this simple story is in terms of exploring what is real and what is fiction. It plays with reality and fantasy in much the same way that I am interested in looking at illustration-style images vs. photographic-style images, deals with death and loss, with love making something real. . .

I had no idea that this book was also called "How Toys Become Real" but I think that is one of the most fantastic and amazing titles for a book I have ever heard. It immediately reminds me of Pinnochio (obviously) but then in a tangential way, Peter Pan (maybe because they are both Disney? or both about dreams and fantasy?) which leads me in some kind of linear fashion to Michael Jackson, and then to Jeff Koons and on and on. So this may have nothing to do with those things, but they seem to be next to one another in my brain.

Dog books

Also, what the hell is this?

"My Puppy Book" by Sandra Boyton

Straw dog . . . and Clifford

straw dog: In business, something (an idea, or plan, usually) set up to be knocked down. It's the dangerous philosophy of presenting one mediocre idea, so that the listener will make the choice of the better idea which follows.

straw dog: Something that is made only to be destroyed.

So. . . i feel like we have this idea that death is some kind of abomination - something unnatural. . . a wrong done to us that shouldn't happen and maybe something about the fatlism . . . like we were CREATED to be destroyed. That is the whole point? It makes me sad. It reminds me of a really disturbing part of a Clifford book in which Clifford the Big Red Dog gets a little tiny pet robot dog that he smashes by accident. There is something scary about this big, well-meaning animal that can just squish stuff without meaning to. He's about *this close* to destroying things without really even knowing it. Which reminds me of America. And marching bands. Which is different than the straw-dog concept I guess in that the danger of this big puppy is that not intentional, but the straw-dog idea is more ominous in being intentional. But I really like the idea of a huge dog, even if he may or may not smash you by accident.




He looks so harmless here, doesn't he?

My conclusion: I need to paint literal straw dogs. :) What would that even look like? Or maybe I need to paint enormous, oversized, possibly dangerous dogs.

Maybe what I think is dangerous is that it is dangerous to love something. Because it could, indeed, be smashed.

Also. . . on another tangentially-related note: Looking through Clifford stuff makes me remember that the death of a pet is often the first experience with death that children have, and that many many books deal with the death of a pet. So as I continue to explore death (Old Yeller? Where the Red Fern Grows? Saddest stories ever. . . .) perhaps I need to keep thinking about how dogs related to that. Not that I want them to, because I like them much better alive.