I’m still moving everything I own down the street(s), and all is scattered and turvy. But I’ve got some links I’ve enjoyed recently, and here they are:
The sound of dial-up:
I was talking about early internet days with my brother, and how this very specific set of noises prepared me for the infinite possibilities that awaited.
David Tennant does a very different Hamlet:
The desperate quiet pain of a young man turning in on himself is beautifully, devastatingly interpreted, here. I need to see the whole thing, even if it’s got missing bits as the soliloquy here has.
The ultimate evil eye ending:
I quote Simpsons lines and scenes often, and in this segment, Homer and Mr. Burns carry off a beautifully timed, unhinged, and hilarious denouement. It’s the kind of trope-tweaking the show used to be very good at.
More art soon. The view from the new place is the image at the top.
There’s some bad news from the Yogscast collective, and a couple of its members have deeply disappointed me as a viewer and fan, as well as hurt women involved in those men’s predation of them. Zoey Proasheck has a post on their subreddit that’s well worth a read. It’s a bit like Harlan Ellison’s “You Don’t Know Me, I Don’t Know You,” which is hard to find but also worth digesting.
It’s tough to draw a line between my image of heroes and beloved artists and the unknown reality that they actually are. My image of others is fuzzy at best, ghostly in most cases. It takes time and close contact to understand what someone is like, and even then people can fool you, or just be closed and obscure, a web so thick and knotted it’s very hard to see through.
But as painful as it can be to acknowledge someone disappointing you, sometimes you can’t run, at least not immediately. Someone has to take charge of situations like this and confront the bad actors and abusers of their position. It’s easy to say we should all maintain self-care and take time out when necessary, but there are times it isn’t possible.
In a sense, no one has to do anything. But often we trade on our reputations and ethics. I tend to believe in very few things, but one of them is that we are often stronger than we think. The important thing is that we keep moving ahead.
There’s a lot of speculation about why Banks did this, and what it means. I’m not sure yet that there’s any one meaning to the work, but I’m intrigued by the larger possibilities behind the concept.
If Banksy wanted to “prank” the fine art world, it backfired, in a way, because the likelihood is that it’s worth more money shredded. This includes the possibility of the thing continuing through the frame shredder at some point. It transitioned from 2D art to conceptual art, and there’s plenty of that which doesn’t have a specific and discrete physical form. All this attention has undoubtedly increased its value for the buyer, and brought massive publicity to both Banksy and Sotheby’s. It’s not really tweaking the wealthy fine art community as much as fostering it.
On the other hand, Banksy may know what he’s doing, that all this would result in increased value, which is more cynical and that’s disheartening. It’s interesting as another in a series of “why is a thing worth this much?” works, but I’m not sure that goes very far. If the thing dissolved completely, that’d be a better way of bringing it full concept: what’s the resale value of a painting that no longer exists, sans documentation?
The main value, I think, is that I’ll have to think about this some more.
Case in point, so many internet things that are amazing and have criminally few eyeballs and earholes attached to them. I understand the magic of discovering treasures that are meaningful to you. I’m sad that it’s such a widespread impulse to resist sharing those things with everyone else. It’s the Daffy Duck mentality, a throwback to post-infancy, when we desired everything for ourselves, before we learned empathy.
One of the reasons I’m continuing to work on this blog is to share those things, to resist the hoarding impulse. Because it’s in the sharing that we grow, it’s in the mutual delight of discovery that we support and enhance each other. This is a better way to live.
All that to say, watch the latest BJ Rubin show. It’s full of music that’s so far out on the fringe it’s fuzz floating away on the breeze. It’s weird, it’s unique, and the world needs so much more of that right now.
There are few things I enjoy more online than a really great YouTube vlog. No other visual format gives me the same sense of visceral connection to another person’s life. Writing is the ultimate form of being inside someone else’s head, but ironically, that tends to abstract their reality and recontextualize it. If I feel I’m inside someone’s thoughts, they become, in some sense, part of my own. Videos put me in front of and in the physical place of another human.
And for the past few—several?—years, no one has given me that feeling more than creator Myles Wheeler, better known on the YousTubes as itsamemyleo. His twist on the classic British vlogger style is often to craft a metanarrative over his footage, which can be a massive pool of clips filmed over months. He’s expert at taking disconnected shreds of his daily existence and getting them to fit these wonderful blends of melancholy and humor.
All this to say that after a long absence, he uploaded the vlog-to-end-all-vlogs, a massive 85-minute wonder.