mr. mittens (akmed) wrote,
mr. mittens

goats, the klan, and bubbles: lost and found

i've missed a lot the past few weeks and it's starting to get hot which means i will miss a lot more as i go into hibernation. but i found some things, too. loss and gain. gain and loss.

i found an old cow or goat bell. bet you didn't know goats have bells too. the clanger( officially called the clapper) is made of wood and leather. i like the eerie sound it makes. now i need a cow or goat. mmmm, goats.

i found a first edition of the kkk klassic tom dixon's "the clansman" upon which the movie " birth of a nation" was based. one of the reasons i was so freaked when putie bit it was i had just finished cataloguing my cds- which took weeks- and it was not apparent if i would be able to save and transfer the database. all hail universal binary, all was not lost which brings up the irony that all my data contained within 3rd party software was safe and easily transfered to imac, the computer princess, while the only data i lost and have no access to is stuck within the confines of apple's own proprietary software, unable to be opened or saved to it's new proprietary software.

anyway, back to the klan. i'd moved on to my books( i just can't contemplate the vinyl... can't they count themselves ?) and found "the clansman" which i must have found somewhere because why would i buy it? no interest here in cracker literature from the turn of the century yet i am forever puzzled by the notion that we have yet to move on from the period in time that produced both "birth of a nation" and" the clansman" not because we are incapable but because we refuse to. as in our personal lives when disillusion, hatred, fear and sadness overwhelm us, we are can refuse to move through and beyond individual hurts and losses. personalizing larger tragedies that belong to other people and another generation is a way of ignoring the injustices and cruelties that are happening right now- the moral equivalent of the dog claiming the nonexistent cat broke the living room lamp and an artifact of feeling helpless when confronted with present difficulties and failings. ignore me- someone else somewhere, sometime did much worse which justifies my prejudices and transgressions.

genocide is happening now. human slavery is happening now. there's no need to go back 100 years to see black people in chains- just go to africa today. sexual slavery is happening in our own country, now. how much does one really care about racism and human rights if one only focuses on the depredations of another time at the complete exclusion of the barbarity of the present?

barney bubbles. being fairly obsessed with elvis costello when i was a teenager i was always aware that the art work on his albums and in his promotional materials were made by the same hand. for whatever reason i never found out just whose hand, being barney bubbles née colin fulcher.

although cds are convenient they're just too small. when is the last time you were left in awe of truly great cover art? with less landscape- less attention is paid. it seems even if people buy cds they load them into their computers and then trade them away. with no concrete physical presence, there's no need for quality art and design- music product exists only in people's heads or on their hard drives, in a cloud somewhere. there's no need for beautiful, meaningful and connected objects when all that is valued is the digital idea- a vapor, lost in the ether. archeologists in the future with no access to the interwebs, let alone sundry computers, myriad operating systems and computer languages will be left viewing mangled hunks of inarticulate metal and plastic whose significance and contents died with their makers.

barney bubbles pretty much designed the punk explosion, giving it it's visual lexicon that led, as all roads do, to new wave. his lovingly detailed, obsessive genre crunching designs make modern cd covers look like uninspired wrappings for bargain brand individually wrapped cheese product slices. i miss barney bubbles and rediscovered him all in the same moment. he took his own life in the early 80s just as the design aesthetic he so thoughtfully evolved was coming to the fore.

Barney Bubbles Inside out from Lisa Whitaker on Vimeo.

after finding a 4th copy of "les fleurs du mal" on my shelves, it was time to get ahold of what i had . i am very excited by this discovery, which i found in a stack of books left in a box on a street corner. (how little we care for books that we just throw them out? imagine that books used to only be owned by the very very rich even after the advent of moveable type. it's the invention of the printing press that allowed for an unheard of expansion in human freedoms- the breaking of the chains of ignorance and bondage churches and governments placed on the individual. now people engage in abysmal english in their "conversational clucking" on the internet, saying nothing, barely listening to one another. read a fucking book, please, or at least send the ones you want to toss in the trash to goodwill.)

how can you not want to read this?

" The devil appears with a retinue including a naked girl vampire with red hair and phosphorescent eyes, and a black cat that smokes cigars and is a dead shot with a browning automatic."

why is there not more interest in and honesty concerning soviet era russia in the allegedly free west? because it would detract from the depraved hippie notion that socialism and communism are good and humane instead of evil vehicles for tyranny and fascism especially when you have a not particularly bright commie blow up doll for a president? most of the discussion on amazon- which my catalogue software links to for downloading cover shots-are rants about the various translations of "The Master and Margarita" when the main point should be that lazy ass intellectually vapid and incurious americans who find the likes of che guevara oh, so fascinating in a pin up boy/ sexy bear saint sort of way need to be more aware of the experiences of those who have lived and died under socialism. enjoy the glorious cuban style medical care you've been begging papa doc barry for. read the Master and Margarita before you're forced to live it.


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