freedom my ass


Wednesday 31 March 2004 at 7:32 pm
'Freedom is not a natural inheritance of man. In order to possess it we have to create it.'
(Ernst Cassirer, The Myth of the State)

fine little insight by cassirer. writing when? during the second world war. interesting isn't it. for once I would like someone in the public sphere to explain to me exactly what the units of this present currency of fog-speak actually mean. perhaps if we defined these 'freedoms' and 'civilization' more clearly the rampant, diseased paradox of the current regime physically ripping the spine out of their back in the name of preserving them, by dismantling civil liberties, disposing of democratic accountability, setting up extralegal courts and concentration camping asylum seekers - as well as running the military as the public and particularly hostile acquisitions department of the financial sector - might become more apparent. maybe then The Ones Who Rule could actually start working to preserve the real and all-too-fragile achievements of hundreds of years of political and social struggle, rather than using nebulous fog-speak simulacra to eradicate the real thing and legitimate their increasingly unchecked abuse of power.

the patient died but the fever left him. somebody might finally put a gun to the back of david blunkett's head or send a cruise missile 'decapitation strike' down his chimney in the name of freedom.

I can not verbally communicate how fed up and sick I am of the way terms like 'freedom' and 'the values of our civilization' are shamelessly bandied about by politicians unable to define them and unwilling to cash them in and translate their bland, vacuous political rhetoric into real and systematic political commitment. what the fuck are the 'values of our civilization', if not the very thing we're abolishing in the name of defending them?

the blairite understanding of democracy amounts to the idea that elected leaders are only accountable to the public that elects them in the context of and in terms of elections - the rest of the time, electedness functions as a mandate for an unbalanced autocratic regime based on the personal 'tough choices' of our Reverend Leader.

all the fuss about accountability, public 'conversation', listening to the public - fucking hegemonic lies that mask the real power on the throne, the fact that his secular highness will listen when he wants to. when push comes to shove, blair and his sycophantic inner cabal will force through what they and their backers want, whether it is privatisation schemes - oh, sorry, it's PFI under this government isn't it - or the war on iraq.

mister blair evidently thinks that democracy means every few years picking someone to rule you like a king with improved rhetorical skills, wearing a sham mask of accountability.

maybe that is how 'democracy' works. maybe in the end its proper functioning boils down to the russian roulette of electing leaders who feel the moral imperative of democracy in their guts enough not to overstep the unwritten mandates and checks of their position. blair, like hitler, clearly doesn't. because he believes people in the end elected him to run the country as he likes until the next election. in the growing madness of king blair, I'm waiting for the public alert that abolishes the constitution.

pray for a revolution. meanwhile I'll pray for some 'freedom-loving' equivalent of the CIA in the third world to assassinate the motherfucker with a poisoned cigar.

funny how controversy sharpens the appetite


Saturday 27 March 2004 at 10:27 pm
was feeling quite indifferent to the passion of the christ phenomenon, not sure whether to bother watching what I predict amounts to a torturous, violently hip, ego-driven reenactment of a story we're all pretty fucking familiar with already.

then I read a truly vitriolic, ranting piece in the guide in today's guardian. I mean a proper rambling rant, intoxicated with its own fervour, of the type I have been known to provide for free in the past. in a blink, my ears pricked up, interest was renewed and my attitude to watching the film reversed. anything that prompts a strong reaction like that is interesting.

in today's media-saturated environment all publicity is good publicity. at least to my demographic. and you'd think the anti-anti-semitism lobby would act on this fact to some degree, rather than dignifying the movie with quite so much attention. surely if there had been no debate the movie would sink beneath the public horizon pretty quickly?

what I really don't understand is how something which to me amounts more or less to a point of medieval doctrine, ie. the question of the role of the jews in the christic death-drama, can trigger quite so much controversy, indignation and rage as it seems to be doing.

ok, even if the movie represents the romans as being manipulated by powerful interests in the jewish community into eliminating a controversial prophet. so? it seems to me a rather plausible scenario - of course established religious hierarchies have a vested interest in eliminating charismatic revolutionary upstarts, particulary if they're as uncompromising as christ is depicted.

but surely modern anti-semitism has very little to do with the role of the jews in the crucifixion? to me it seems like a pretty long leap from 'christ was killed by people who were jewish' to holocaust denial - yet the connection is made by anti-anti-semitic writers in the public sphere. is it really not possible to represent the scenario of interests in the jewish community ensuring that rabblerouser christ is eliminated without being anti-semitic? frankly the whole thing seems a bit like the germans getting up on their hind legs about the representation of the germanic tribes in gladiator or something. remote past = remote past.

so why is the essentially medieval question of whether the jews killed christ relevant today? maybe the anti-semitic discourse on the other side of the atlantic is still rooted in the question of the historical 'guilt' of 'the jews'? or maybe elements in the jewish community feel that it is - I guess centuries of pogroms on that basis might create a bit of a sore spot.

bottom line, I don't understand why gibson's silly ego-driven escapade and supposedly medieval christian world-view are taken so seriously - whenever I see his face these days, he is grinning ear to ear. maybe precisely because ticket sales are skyrocketing and the circulation of his message, whatever it is, is exploding.

I guess I'l have to see the damn thing, in order to make my mind up. much as I dislike mister mel personally...

slime karma, my negative agency with architecture


Friday 26 March 2004 at 06:36 am
what the freak is it with me and buildings. two days ago I said [foolishly, I admit] hey, there's so much humidity here. I'm amazed we haven't got slugs.

tonight, witness a monstrous writhing sickly brown 6-incher sausage of living slime. probing its black little antenna out into the cold light from the dark crevice under the kitchen bench. with a little sidekick 2-incher piece of living entrail to keep it company on its foray into our world, too. god knows how many other there are in there, in the darkness under the kitchen bench. I imagine a whole crawling nest-colony in there, huge gelatinous ball slick, soft, wet, swirling and gliding and curling in upon itself. yuck.

same as when I said last year. hey, at least the ceiling hasn't collapsed on us. cue The First Leak, unpromising trickle that soon turned into a five-pan deluge, six months of cold winter bathwater pouring down on us through the living-room ceiling and the cold, wet and rather humid winter.

eh. it's spring. I should be pleased that life is returning to the world. but I can't help but wonder how long it takes to grow six long thick inches of slug down there, in the darkness. and how and where the growing thing hides until it feels ready to come out and show itself to us...

two anxieties in the heart of the maelstrom


Thursday 25 March 2004 at 06:50 am
I am anything but a control freak. I am at home with chaos, disorder, unpredictability; letting people do what they like or what they must, without interfering; my possessions tend to circulate between people as freely as they decay in heaps in my room. clothes untidy, notes untidy, life untidy. and I love it.

there are very few things or situations that freak me out or trigger irrational anxiety. but there are a few. that is, things that throw me into a state of frantic, panicky activity, trying to restore control and plug the sudden hole in the floor of the world. a weird, completely irrational feeling to me, nevertheless one which does occur.

one of these is finding out I don't know where one of my books is. this applies specifically to my social theory books. friends can attest to the fact that if I realize one of these is not where I thought it was, I can spend hours scrambling around the house in a state of grim, anxious determination trying to locate it. I left a book by sandra harding at a bus-stop in the middle of nowhere last year: thinking of it still brings back that sinking, ill feeling.

the other thing that triggers this is when my laptop slows down or malfunctions; particularly when it does this in a way that offers no easy diagnosis. the stress I experience when CPU usage starts spiking erratically from 2% to 98% and back again when I'm running spider solitaire, or when the startup sequence suddenly takes 3 minutes rather than 30 seconds, is completely beyond proportion to the possible risk involved to my machine.

both these situations precipitate in me exactly the same terrible visceral feeling of panic, a sudden death-in-venice feeling of dark barbarian forces from the east laying siege at the edges of the bright civilized world. it's as though my library and my laptop, in becoming part of my extended selfhood, have come under the jurisdiction of a bizarre, sublimated form of hypochondria - extended beyond the confine of my physical body. cyborg hypochondria.

the fruit of half an hour with google


Tuesday 23 March 2004 at 5:51 pm
the many faces of boycott: CEO strongly supports israel. they play unpatriotic sheryl crow music . their fairtrade advertising is a total sham. in fact they're screwing everybody, even the mermaid, all the while emasculating the social institution and language of the coffeehouse[!], depriving us of an arena for the social organisation of protest.

didn't the realise there was a zionist line of argument against $tar*ucks [though the argument may not necessarily persuade me of the need to boycott the company]. also I may in my simplicity have overestimated the ratio of genuine business practice reform to hype.

having said that, I am not persuaded by the "corporate ubiquity is demonic" line of argument, that $tar*ucks and other corporations are reshaping the social landscape in evil ways, homogenising everything and depriving people of places where they can organise the revolution. to be facetious, I don't see armed thought police at my local starbucks branch, any more than I see why I shouldn't be able to have just as good and revolutionary a conversation in this squeaky-clean, no-smoking environment as in the dark smoky grease-walled corner at the shady back of the local coffee emporium.

ok, there are benefits to the small coffee shop staffed with 3 generations of family model. local embeddedness, historicity, uniqueness - but then again, what's with the nostalgic benjaminian binomial of unique local loveliness versus reproducible standardised global evilness: 'the coffeehouse in the age of global reproduction'. as I see it it forms part of a certain brand of thinking which tends to designate the spaces of urban modernity as ahistorical, disembedded from a supposed 'traditional community' that existed before, identical, homogenous, inauthentic, 'soulless'...

[well represented by that whining french guy who wrote non-spaces -towards an anthropology of supermodernity a few years back. incredibly annoying, self-indulgently nostalgic book. much like adorno's phenomenological critique of film in the early years of last century, it made me wish that academics would just stop generalising their own alienation, disorientation or cultural illiteracy into universal theories. ok mister adorno, you are confused by films and think it is impossible to critically assess the 'flickering images' while watching. try asking someone who grew up with them...].

I often make as meaningful long-term contact with employees in local chain coffee stores as I do in local small coffee shops [which is to say, limited exchanges along the lines of 'hey how you doing, haven't seen you for a while, what's that book you're reading'...]. the site has a [recent, short] history, it is situated within the local community, students and families with small children and builders all come in for coffee, and to describe it as soulless or inauthentic is, as far as I can see, reducible to a form of cultural elitism or arrogance - in that the speaker asserts his or her own knowledge of, participation in and preference for a more 'authentic', 'historically rooted', 'soulful' form of existence and human relationships, represented by the small local coffee shop.

personally I see nothing per se in the structure of a star*ucks site to validate the notion that people are depersonalised there, or that it is impossible to establish meaningful or participatory social relations there. yeah, it's different. yeah, social spaces tend to undergo change and shift from hand to hand. as they are restructured, reorganised, resignified, certain things are phased out and others are phased in. ok, there is a stab of resentment when the local coffee shop closes down and another star*ucks mushroom springs up. still, it's there for you to claim, reclaim and make use of as you see fit.

in general terms: I'm still not convinced that the corporate invasion of space is necessarily more normative or evil than other regimes that establish and regulate space. at least it is directly accountable to consumer money, and consequently to the social organisation of consumer money into boycotts and concerted action. in some ways it might even seem more attractive [and accountable] than the accountability mechanisms of the farcical autocratic regime that currently masquerades as "democracy" in this country.

anyway. methinks the monkey doth protest too much. never one to be deterred from my simple pleasures, even when they become complex and laced with guilt. following this informative session, I'm off for a barista-screwing, fairtrade-exploitative, unAmerican, israel-supporting, socially erosive and utterly hypocritical venti latte.
with an extra shot.

morning coffee


Tuesday 23 March 2004 at 06:24 am
have given up on the idea of keeping complete account of my films. much as I would like to keep track, the constant record became too depressing. partly because I probably shouldn't see quite so many of them... what I might do is keep the column on the side. as a cultural dietary journal or something.

have gotten into the habit this week of cruising through the shopping center next door for a star****s coffee when I get up. venti latte with an extra shot. reminds me of the ole days - way back when, in 2001 - when I would drop by coffee republic on my way to work to pick up my extra-shot mocha at around 10, and the guy at the till would start making it when he saw me coming down the street. in coffee as in other things I am a creature of rapidly formed and rapidly forgotten habits.

mayhap I should be troubled by my ease with this particular habit, but I find I'm not. much as I disagree with clustering as a business practice, as naomi klein documented it a few years ago, star****s have straightened out their corporate image quite a bit - fairtrade coffee, long-term contracts with third-world suppliers, community projects and suchlike.

besides, they do make very nice coffee.

maybe it's a bit of a rationalization, but boycotting coffee shops beyond the point where they reform their business practices as much as starbucks is doing doesn't really fit my idea of meaningful political action. besides, being the consumption slacker I am I already boycott nearly every ethically problematic brand on the market anyway, by default. figure I've got some ethical brownie points accumulated.

entry about nothing in particular


Wednesday 10 March 2004 at 3:19 pm
surprisingly positive responses on the hairless new me front - the one upset person quickly took to running her hands over my head with a big grin. hmmm... "tidy", "clean cut", as usual people comment. having said that, being "manly" and "babyfaced" at the same time makes me a bit of a walking contradiction. I guess I can live with that.

determined to start writing my pre-field report today [again]. still have several months before I have to hand it in - six, in fact - but the sun's starting to come out and I'm getting restless. ferguson's brilliant anti-politics machine gave me some fresh ideas on how to structure my overarching enquiry. also started reading jameson's postmodernism, or "the cultural logic of late capitalism" for the second or third time. and this time I will get past page 30.

good day today. sun almost makes in through the living room window. one flatmate's upstairs writing out his final chapter on kant to the tones of beethoven's ninth, other flatmate's downstairs brewing coffee and solving today's cryptic crossword. I have high hopes.

bald buddha monkey action!


Tuesday 09 March 2004 at 9:34 pm
shaved my hair today. not quite snookerball smooth, about 1 or 2 mm left. why? got fed up with a) hair staying wet for 6 hours after coming out of the shower; b) getting hair in my food when leaning forward; b2) in fact the whole business of having a headful of excess, unruly, high-maintenance, flammable dead biomass of uneven length, prone to natural dreadlocking, that got stuck everywhere and particularly in my glasses and which snared small animals while I slept; d) constantly looking like a cross between st john the baptist and a diseased sheep.

not the first time, but unlike other times I now invested in a clipper. for ease of shaving and for maintenance purposes. beats using disposable razors: no bleeding scalp, allows you to keep a sheen of hair on your skull. more sociable. a waterproof one, no less, which can be used in the shower! no more hairy monkey for a while.

(oldtimers will perhaps remember: special prize to anyone who can pinpoint the date I last did this. clue: it was on opendiary.)

old skool nostalgia


Saturday 06 March 2004 at 11:17 pm
this afternoon, moved by accidental whim, I started looking up some old computer games I used to play... properly old, I mean. old as in from the longgone days when I would come home from primary school, pull out the trusty hydrocephalic C128 we had stored away under the tv in the downstairs office, stick a tape in and escape my existence as a fat, maladaptive and aggressive little geekmonster [but then again... maybe if I hadn't spent quite so much time playing computer games...] into a world of interminable load screens with flickering borders, bitsy little sprites and wriggling joysticks... a simpler, more colourful world, replete with sentient cybernetic spaceships, noble ninjas, android conspiracies and chunky but muscular heroes [and heroines]; where achievements were measurable by the agility of your wrist, controlled, quantified, structured and always exciting.

after locating a shareware C64 emulator to play Last Ninja [1987. my god, you had to be there.] I broadened my nets and LO, behold: the high-voltage SID collection. HVSD for short. 25,000+ tracks, mixes, remixes and re-remixes from old C64 titles, all available online [you do need a SID-player. I use dp2 at the moment].

cheesy as fuck, much of it, but some of it remains quite enjoyable, even - or particularly - at a distance of almost two decades [!]. ignore the role of computer games in training the ears and technologies of a generation, paving the way for acid house and all that at the end of the decade, and you're missing a whole big bleeding chunk of the story. kraftwerk and the summer of love were the tip of the iceberg: aberrant as I tend to be I may not be a paradigmatic case of anything, but I used to whistle these tunes walking through our neighbour's potato fields on my way to school. 'nuff said.

[the last ninja one 'suite' is one of my particular favourites, but the themes of cybernoid, rambo first blood part II and nemesis also rank pretty well... soundtrack of my youth goddamnit! no, that's just a mite of dust got stuck in my eye, 's all...]


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