I didn't bother going in.
Tuesday, 11 May 2010
A chance encounter with Art.
I happened to walk past the Lisson Gallery this afternoon. Before I had realised where I was I had looked down into the gallery space and assumed that what I was looking at was a Kindergarten that had yet to be tidied up at the end of playtime.
Monday, 10 May 2010
Criticism and creativity.
Curious how we like to use the internet to find what we want; be it pornography, self aggrandisement, a date, casual sex, old friends, flattery, our own name in print, a photograph of ourself we particularly like.
The last thing we expect or want to find is criticism yet criticism is the best thing we can find.
Criticism sharpens the pencil, cleans the mirror, asks questions and demands an answer.
I quite often find that the criticism defines the critic rather than his target. The critic really wants to talk about himself, but there isn't really anything worth talking about so ' let's criticise everything around me and try to make out that I am better'. There are very few creative critics, there are many creative objects of their criticism.
Criticism breeds creativity in order to feed off it.
Creativity just gets on with it's stuff and doesn't give a fuck.
Legal advice from Mr Bounce.
An interesting chat with Mr Bounce the barrister today regarding what does or does not constitute harassment.
The law states that if the act is intended to expose a crime or prevent a crime it cannot be considered harassment.
Therefore I have every right to expose Tristan's crimes against literature and art.
French letter.
I have recently received a letter containing some advice on courtesy.
Nothing wrong with that except that it came from a Frenchman who tucks his sweater into leather (lace -up fly) trousers.
Ouch!
Sunday, 9 May 2010
St George: Whatever happened to chivalry?
Roped to a tree was a white gowned damsel. A damsel most certainly in distress. Leering over her was a dragon. there was the usual smoke from the nostrils and stench of rotting flesh.
The knight dismounted, approached the dragon while unsheathing his sword.
'Stop!' Cried the damsel and dragon in unison. 'If you kill the dragon you will kill us both for we are two halves of the same beast'.
'But if I do not kill the dragon it will surely kill you'. The knight said to the damsel.
'No it won't'. She replied. 'This is just a game we play to entertain ourselves'.
The knight sheathed his sword, mounted his horse and rode away to the sound of jeering from the damsel and dragon.
The last words he heard were: Whatever happened to chivalry.
Saturday, 8 May 2010
Haircut and love.
To Tristan's place this evening. He had asked me round to cut his hair... Sure, no problem, glad to.
As a barber I had expected to talk of holidays and something for the weekend and did you see that film called Tony ( fuck I've plugged it again) you know the one with the serial killer with the bonkers haircut and if you don't tip me proper I'll give you one of those.
But no. He wanted to talk about poetry and love and the best kind of . As if I would know.
Shit. I'm only the barber mate. what do I know.
'Jan.' He said. 'I hope you know not to run at me with those scissors'.
Ok. I said. I'll walk. That way I can be more accurate.
Anything for the weekend?
S & M
Self flagellation used to be the preserve of the religious fanatic.
Not so any longer... I knew a man who has been beating himself up since his father stopped.
The same guy had a girlfriend who was doing the same thing for the same reason. They met on common ground.
They split up when she realised that he was never going to beat her and he realised that all she wanted to do was beat him up rather than herself because she didn't want to damage her looks.
Time and memory are beating them up now.
Time is merciless.
As is god of course, if you believe that shit.
What goes around comes around... With a whip.
Postcards from Rusty No: 46
Rusty sends this, it is an image of Evelyn Beatrice Hall.
On it he writes: I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.
On it he writes: I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.
Ethics and property rights
Another conversation with Tristan on the subject of ethics.
Warning: This could be boring.
'Was I unethical in writing that letter?'
'No. In so much that it was the truth. But it could be seen as unethical for me to publish it'.
'Why is that?'
'Because it is acceptable to have a thought but totally uncool to express it. Even if it is the truth. Society today is based on everyone telling each other lies (what they want to hear) and living in comfortable denial. The truth is an uncomfortable intrusion. The truth forces one to look at oneself and this can be an ugly, uncomfortable experience'.
'So I should have bitten the bullet, allowed myself to be slandered and libelled, responded with love (as Spinoza would have me do),. I should have lied to protect the lies already in place in order that the status quo may be maintained and no other reputation tarnished (other than my own). That doesn't seem very fair'.
'Since when has man concerned himself with fairness? Look around you'.
'But Spinoza said'...
'Bugger Spinoza. His ethics demand an absolute belief in god... Remove God (or references to God) from his book and what are you left with. NOTHING. Or at best a twee little pamphlet about property rights.
And that is what modern ethics boil down to: Property rights.
So you are perfectly within your rights to express your thoughts but be prepared to be hated for it, even though it is the truth'.
Alarm
A curious sight this morning: I had been woken by strange sounds coming from the roof. I climbed the ladder and peered out. Feathers everywhere; a cat had somehow managed to get among the pigeons.
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