Why Do People Call Themselves Artists?

At a bar in Williamsburg, disturbed at a conversation happening next to me. So. I thought I'd take this moment to pose a question: Why would one person call themselves an artist? It's something that's made me sqeamish for a long time. I dunno...

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No More!

The Palin v. Feminism debate is everywhere today. But I am now bowing out. No more for me. I feel I've no more breath about it. My biggest reason is a shift in focus. My energy and breath will be better used not talking about the bottom of the ticket I do not support, but advocating for the top of the one I do. The goal is to get Obama elected. So that's that.

Vote in the locals today!
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Okay, Not!

So just found another article on feminism in the political arena in today's San Francisco Chronicle. "A Feminist Argument for McCain's VP" by self-described "pro-choice feminist" and FoxNews contributor (yep) Tammy Bruce, is essentially propaganda for the GOP to appeal to disaffected female Clinton supporters (after two weeks, they've realized it isn't working and need some media help) who should be totally in the bag for McCain because his VP pick shares their lady parts. I think I can speak for a lot of folks when I say "ARRRGGH!" So infuriating. Of the many ridiculous things she tries to pass off as intelligent decision-making, she says,

For Democrats, she offers...a chance to vote for a someone who is her own woman and who represents a party that, while we don't agree on all the issues at least respects women enough to take them seriously.

What a laugh! With this sentiment, and the countless obligatory references to the "glass ceiling", she tried to justify the candidacy of a woman who is either a) being used BECAUSE she is a woman or b) so self-interested that she ignores, or herself uses, feminism itself. ARRRGGH! Palin's own obligatory glass ceiling references, if empty, on the day her candidacy was announced tells me she's completely implicit. The simple fact that, prior to Palin's nomination, the two most visible women in the party were the wifeys Laura Bush and Cindy McCain should tell us just how seriously the GOP takes women.

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Feminism And Not...

There's an article by Michelle Cottle on The New Republic's website today called "A Bad Year For Feminism". You should read it. So should everyone else. It's a beautifully articulated, passionate and thorough (damn funny, too) account of the political state of feminism and the steps backward we've taken in the past 8 months, from Hillary's demise to Palin's rise. Time keeps me from going in depth, but this passage pretty much sums it up.

Feminism seems no longer to denote a particular set of values or idealogical agenda; it is merely a label appropriated to proclaim that one is committed to the best interests if women--whatever one believes those to be.

There's a little scorn there, yes. And rightly so. Things are gross. Frank Rich touched on it this weekend in his Times op-ed. Listen to this.

We still don't know a lot about Palin except that she's better at delivering a speech than McCain and that she defends her own pregnant daughter's right to privacy even as she would have the government intrude to police the reproductive choices of all other women.

Yeah. All for now. Read that article, please. You'll be glad you did.
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Notes On A Convention

Taking a break for a minute while canvassing the L.E.S. to vote in Tuesday's local Primary and I'd like to write a few things about the R.N.C. fiasco we witnessed last week.

It seems as though the Republicans are trying to run on a platform that Obama has been championing for months. Nay, years. HRC tried the same heist and to no avail. While McCain hounds Obama's lack of experience, he strangely and stupidly runs on the one platform he is unarguably less qualified to run on: change. Doesn't fly. This is not to be confused with, though it is linked to, McCain's "maverick" image. Which, to me, means he lacks a governing philosophy.

Also, it absolutely freaked me out how bonkers the Republicans went anytime the words "drill" or "oil" were uttered (or howled, as it were). Whenever Palin or McCain said, "let's drill it!" (which was a lot) the whole convention hall erupted. More so that when anyone said something snide or nasty about Obama or Biden (also a lot). And way more so than during McCain's sad and difficult attempt to rally the crowd with "fight! Fight with me!" It was as though the Republicans were oil fetishists, able to get their jollies publicly for four days. And that's gross. And by "it was as though..." I mean "it is a fact that..."

All for now. We're tropical stormin' here.
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I Am Terrified Of Sarah Palin

See post title.

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Back Inaction

Of all the things I could write about for my first post in three months--Hurricane Gustav and it's politicization by the GOP; Sarah Palin as John McCain's gross misconception of a vice presidential running mate, which will backfire on him as far as both white women and evagelicals, his two most neccessary and unloved demographics, are concerned; Obama's gutsiest, most intellectually complex (not to mention neccessary) speech yet; and my having seen Grizzly Bear and the Dirty Projectors in the span of a week--I'm going to write about dancing. More specifically, hipsterdancing. It's something I've mentioned before on this thing. I've also mentioned how ridiculous and frustrating it is. The following passage comes from an article in the most recent edition of AdBusters. Douglas Haddow has written a piece about how the hipster is the death knell for western culture. It's hard not agree with him on an emotional level, but the situation is immensely more complex than he allows it to be. But no matter what you think about the article, this observation is spot-on.

The dance floor at a hipster party looks like it should be surrounded by quotation marks. While punk, disco, and hip hop all had immersive, intimate and energetic dance styles that liberated the dancer from his/her mental states -be it the head-spinning b-boy or violent thrashings of a live punk show - the hipstet has more of a joke dance. A faux shuffle that mocks the very idea of dancing or, at it's best, illustrates a non-committal fear of expression typified in a weird twitch/ironic twist. The dancers are too self-aware to let themselves feel any form of liberation; they shuffle along, shrugging themselves into oblivion.

From where I've been, you'd be lucky to get the shuffle. It's frustrating and can actually have an effect on one's good time.

All for now.
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Another David Byrne Post: "As if I didn't already wish I was him..."

Today David Byrne did this.













He turned a building into a musical instrument. Read more here. It's the Battery Maritime Building and you can see it from today thru the 10th of August at 10 South Street in NY.

Every white haired guy on a bike I see is David Byrne

Yesterday David Byrne did this.

Thats ostensibly a carpet made of pedals, into which he plugged a guitar and let it sit in the middle of the walkway at a benefit for The Kitchen. People would have to walk over the pedals to get from one part of the party to another. The noise would change with each step of each person. There must be an insane amount of range of sounds in there. There are loop pedals and delay pedals, to be sure, so the noise would be in constant flux, controlled not only by the feet at random, but by the sound itself. Byrne explains it here. I can only imagine what it sounds like. Maniac genius.

He also recorded some songs with the Dirty Projectors, which is a brilliant collaboration if I've ever heard of one. And I've heard of one. Will be incredible for sure.

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Attention...

Performed our version of Macbeth in our space about two weeks ago. First show we've done there. I had a blast and the audience seemed to, as well. Thanks to everyone who came out and everyone who was in the show and everyone who put up with our work during the rehearsal process. I hope it was worth it. I think it was. We got a bit of a review Andy Horwitz who write the blog for the theater P.S. 122 downtown, which is a great space and has become a wonderful cultural insitution. He had some nice things to say. Here's the post in its entirety. I'd like to, for posterity, quote a passage from it.

...this production gave me hope for New York Theater.

I guess that's all I'll quote. Please read.



And our home was also grossly misinterpreted in an article in the New York Times this week (the front page, nonetheless). Read it here. It's pretty funny. Though some of the things the author smugly claims point towards the truth, I should say that there are good things about that are not touched on in the article.