Wednesday, November 16, 2016

90s Art Redefined About 17 Years Later

    The 90s were without a doubt the best decade anyone has ever seen in this ever-changing world. Gone were the ideals and the decade-long wars and the idealism that brought about wars, the world was shit, and we were going to confess this to it for as long as we lived, we would find our girlfriend, or boyfriend of the world, and wrap her in a Gothic veil of confessions and ply her with the goods of confectionaries, and confess that our love had not always been for that person. In a world filled with lies, and hate, we would find our perfect home against all that had come before, and our beautiful loser bodies would find each others' mate, our touches were the gold and chrome and yellow of real film, the digital age was upon us now, and we just weren't any good at it. But everything was new and golden and warm. And our parents would never find out about us. Like they never found out about my girl slitting her wrists the night before, and coming back after a day away she found me, and said, “It wasn't about you, it was about this world, it was about all this shit we worship, and this orgy person I used to know, but he slid, and he died of AIDS and a part of me always wished I'd marry him, and a part of me knew he was too good for me, or even Hollywood, and now he's dead. But I have you instead, and you can make me free and good and warm, and we can write letter's about a cannibal son we never had, and we can entertain the darker side of the psyche and drink warm wine together, and I will lace it with drugs you have never heard of and fuck my spouse he was always a dick. I have such a nice house alone with the ghosts why don't you move in, you'll fit right in.”

    Now 20 years later with the largesse and indolence of another generation, this time that is trying to care, I've already learned where that goes. When I look back at the art I don't see another world half of those here one earth have never seen, I see a day and then another day, waking up to a light sometimes you didn't want with half-open eyes it looks that much better. The days scorned so much, somehow add up together, and you miss those voids where for 5 years you wrote only music, and the only artistic product of those days, than whiny music some room mate rips off, and people can't imagine why you would laugh so hard when a woman does a sack dance to it. And you remember how much you wanted to care... and maybe now that it is gone. Now that it is so far away, with those eyes turned away, the idle dreams forgotten, the certainty of the pain remains, and you wonder, why you can not wander those hall ways again, speak words to those shadows of who we were. But life runs on, now all those people have children, and you have a hollow heart, a rack of trophies no one has ever heard of or will see, but cares more for than they will ever know.

    I have bought you a slurpee, sweet one. And I come to you to cover you in come when you awake you will know it was over. I hold a beer, even 24 for you downstairs, and I have not seen you in 17 years, won't you come and play. The world is forgetting its hollow wars again, its loose morals, are almost ready to say “Fuck all the consequences we will live -- so we will not die”, you tried not to bury the child of our immortals, only prison did. And you can summon us from the dead and talk to us, or being not fully a god, you can wander on and remember why we hurt, why we cared, why we had lost all hope, and you will remember why we loved in the 90s, and why we should still love that decadent, loserish, misbegotten decade with misty eyes, and bring our offerings and prayers.
I wonder at the statements I hear from fellow artists that the image should all look the same, that we should be trying to make all things photo-realistic. And I kind of want to smash the mirror on that one again, as I look back at the images, all of them mixed in with strange, but definitely hot porn, because our browsers would not let us easily decide where to store our art. This is a message time after time that I try not to make anything out of, but it is a seductive way to display a decade of decadence, and indolence that forget its own importance for the ideals of others. Maybe it just needed more of an ego to be perfect – and more porn.

    This world makes its judgments at 100%, or 110% all the time if you still care. I really don't give two shits myself. The name of the game has changed, and the art has slowly changed, my Gothic debaucheries I realize were mainstream art in the 90s... everyone said I should do more, but I did less, I think we all did less in the 90s. Trendy? No. Antisocial? Yes. But at the end of it it drove me made, insane with my own insurrection against not caring, and trying to piece the world together. I changed the Queen in England, and killed a bunch of Assassins and one guy who I think was a Russian spy, who lost like his life like his country recently lost Communism. I convinced no one to care, and in my mind it slipped away.

   What is broken about modern art?  Even the glossiness seems broken.  What is haunting about it?  Perhaps that a hundred artists try to work at the same Manga image when it would take them less time to work on a photo-realistic painting.  And you go to a traditional art class and they still want you to paint in a certain style, and critique you when it isn't that realistic, and when you realize that only 10% of the painting has to have a fine degree of detail it is a personal break-through and nothing more.  There is also something strange and snobbish about art galleries where fights break out.  But unreal in its strangeness instead of the salt of the earth elegance of the past century.  The shadow of a war is breaking out between traditional media artists and digital artists.  Perhaps there will be amusement there that we could benefit from, likely it will detract overall.  Can people just not say you can make art however you like, just don't copy when you steal your art?  And another thing I wonder about is how digital will detract from visual art, like it has gutted most forms of music.  But there is something  there because art isn't real until it gets printed.  Or will the war continue until digital art is hated because of the copyright slobs.  Or should we just axe copyright and pay artists directly when we buy something with their name on it?  Forget about stealing, its all stolen already, and there are 20 versions of Monet's sunflowers, and the best copies are better than the original we mus know, and if we don't we should dig a bit more.  

    The snake of art is beginning to eat its own tail, yet the immediacy and the intimacy of digital art, and many individual artists has improved as they have improved.  And how should I contemplate this, as a relevance as a loss? Like a James Bond who sits in alleyways trying not to sob and scream? Like a Rembrandt who sees all images inside his computer shifted, and can not find a world or a context for his own dreamings and forbearance? Or that one's mind was opened with such joy so many times that it broke. Opened to the learning of University, opened to the mystic realms of Occultism, opened to the heart of Philosophy, and moved by the maths, the sciences, becoming a master of Information Technology, and English Literature. The perfect Englishman who can make your dreams, and save a country from itself. If I lost myself as the cost to this all would I care? No I would not. Would they have to tell me they were generous, or help me see what love and life is and what a mystery? No you can only live within yourself, your one mind must unify it all somehow.

    Would anyone else in the world say that with the strike of midnight at the birth of the year 2000 all hope was lost? That an eternity of not caring, and useless indolence would become all the things you never wanted, or perhaps did. This world died sometimes, and our dark dreams were frozen. Certain things should be let loose that are with held. Like the witch-doctors of Science we sit and scold each other, for not being perfect in our art, our memory our words, our hope. Picasso says, “Draw 2 lines, make a mistake, then another line and a mistake, and then continue.” Art is about mistakes, like life. It is the analysis and the summation that matters, not what happened to you. That is who you are. Your soul is who you want to be. Life, like art becomes so self-reflective that eventually like the 90s we just don't have to care.

    At the end when they tell us to go to the gallery we should stare at the doorway, or the fire extinguisher and critique it. The greater art is that which frames the art, the indiscernible, the mad, what indiscretions it opens up to us. I would hope to find people in a gallery that do not care as much as I do with a passion. That want to, and have lost that hope in humanity that we had back then. Only in our acceptance of the world's madness and our intolerance of it is there hope. The artists cares, they truly, truly care, and they care too much. And right now there's something being stripped right out of it that I don't like anymore. Some antiquities are given too much relevance, a surge toward art being the sunset, and not the landscape of another world. A breaking of the humour and sarcasm of Dali, and the implementation of Hitler's post cards, and addendums by Jung renamed to be Freudian, and somehow with sycophantic reasoning all that we create is a psychology about ourselves that it never was. Don't poke holes in us artist because you care! Poke holes in yourself, poke your eye out, pretend that there are no pretensions, then you will begin to truly see.




Monday, October 10, 2016

Why Allowing P3s Into Our System Is Like Baring Your Ass For A Spartan With A Large Spear


   I voted against P3s when I moved back to Regina after living in Calgary for several months, but
not being able to afford a basement apartment in that city after all the hidden fees, extra taxes
and fraud allowed by business I came back, after quitting two jobs that did not pay me what they
told me they would. Later I would find out Brewsters, north on Shagannapi trail, Calgary did not eventually file their taxes correctly. And I was to find I could not afford my classes because they are allowed to remove student loans from your bank account without trial or any process, never mind due process.

    But when I came back in January 2001 it did not take 2 months for the phone company to disconnect my phone (as I was told it would by Calgary's main phone company which is not privatized but must provide service to those that are... for free thus slowing everything down). I did not have to pay for a 5 year drivers license that I must pay all at once. My car taxes insurance premiums never did go up to $2400 a year from around $300 because I was a young mail, and when you allow P3s into your system you allow them to change the law so that they can charge whatever they like if they feel a minority is at high risk to them. Never mind at that age many people want to start a family and can not afford a car and this endangers children. I have heard of 3 newborns dying solely because of the cold in Canada, and I am sure the statistics are staggering. But we don't care about that we are P3s! We can do what we like we don't care about anything! Unless it costs us money, and not only are we going to fuck you and your system up we now own your system and there is nothing you can do to change exactly how it works! 

    And that is just some of the specifics. Let me back off and say what I draw out of all of this, and some recent news that the Sask Party, who I will say I would never vote for, is blaming low government income and record high taxes for wanting to privatize one of the few phone companies that makes sense in this country. Of course those who have scammed Calgarians and other groups, waltz in here and spout their mouths off and try to make the scam look all pretty. But this is the proverbial horse you should look in the mouth of, before it is too late. Like it was for Calgary.
This is the central math that people are not aware of. When a group comes in and takes over, like the P3 that took over our water has, they no longer answer to the government, they no longer refund their income to the government, but pocket it. And then they will not upgrade infrastructure. And this is the part of the scam that really hurts because most naive voters, who are happy with a phone call telling them to vote “yes”... and not asking “hey isn't someone calling me to tell me how to vote illegal?” ends up going. They are not telling you to vote this way for your own good. It is because they are receiving kick backs and flat out bribes. Also that group that is not reducing your money, is making two people rich and those two people have no problem converting that money into bribes / extortion rackets / lawyers and lobbyists to fight the city.

    Add to this mess that comes in, not with one company but usually with more P3s, they will tell you that you can not change the law to make them pay to upgrade or fix, or even to use the infrastructure that they use. All changes, all upgrades made are now paid out of your taxes, the ones that are currently not being used except to reduce taxes in the rare case of upgrades.

    There are massive amounts of infrastructure upgrade needed, the old head of Regina City Water informed me before he quit his job due to me and others “constantly badgering him over bad water quality because the city refused to pay for the upgrades.” The old plant needs upgrades. Most of North Central and the older parts of the city, such as Cathedral and the Core need serious infrastructure upgrades, and the old work done in Hillsdale is rife with bad infrastructure done by shoddy contractors. A friend of mine, Steve McLellan found that the pipes leading into his home were made out of asphault wrapped in cardboard... something never approved by the city. And I hope this is not endemic of what that area looks like, but suspect it may be. 

    If the emergency “repairs” done to North Central last year, and then removed, are any sign of what is to come, what is to come is probably not good and I will be selling my home, and moving out of the country. Where this sort of thing and property values fluctuating between $80,000 and $700,000 for virtually the same thing are not an issue.

    So Sask Party, why would something that in the short term results in tax increases be used to lower taxes? If this is like your case of trying to find savings of $200M and only coming up with $2M, and are you just retarded or can you not pull out a calculator for 5 seconds and calculate what the cost of
your evil and Draconion measures will be on the electorate that hired you. If I hear about any more shoddy math, and name-calling over intellectual dialogue, and a systematically positive government ethics I will be calling to have your group dumped from parliament. I think you will be off the bill, and everyone's bill next election at the rate you are going. If you think that we will pay any of your bills from now into fortuity you are entirely wrong. And if you think further governments will stand for your ignorance and allow P3s to continue their dereliction and other evil actions uninhibited by the law, you are also wrong.

    The only option is that we get rid of P3s entirely and we bring in a required upgrade schedule. Every 50 or 80 years it needs a full overhaul in Regina and that should be implemented now, while only the old areas need upgrades. Although it is easy to go with a spend-thrift and go easy rate, giving the new areas a double vote in regards to changes because they are paying higher taxes, it is possible to miss the large picture in finding the reason for these high taxes already.

    I would also like my $50 a month back now that the Colleseum to Riderdom is built, and we are back to having a less than desirable team once again.



Wednesday, March 16, 2016

I am I who am I?  A dream, a possibility within a dream that is constantly confused and complicated by reality.  Before we are born are we told that there is a possibility we don't exist?  That there are rules one must abide by even if one does not want to.

A soul looking out from the beyond at every planet has time to choose a body, a dream, a destiny that it knows will be destroyed once it exits from the whole, full the mature digital soul.  It is perfect, yet unknown, everything at once, but nothing.  The everything in nothingness is us before we are the dream that commands that gets in line gets in cue to be born, is perhaps judged on its network within the probabilities of determinant reality, told what can be, who we are.  And the moment we are born each day we learn, grow become what we could only have imagined as a part of the infinite, the human soul, some call Chlerb, the human soul, the oversoul, God.

But what God exists, other than the root nature of man.  An ascetic can live the most pure life, judge not, yet make only the right and pure decisions.  Kill, because one has to to live.  Fight, because evil can not be beaten if it is not defeated, sometimes physically.  The purest soul might thus live far away from society in the mountains, yet find themselves driven to a sound body to derive a sound mind.
Yet how limited is life without the interaction driven by other souls?

Every Christian in the past has longed to be something other than human, yet found themselves voting, prejudged, every word they believed in taken out of context, and every truth ran over decade by decade at a time.

Every Muslim has held true to their faith, yet seen it destroyed by those that would sacrifice their fellow human beings for no other cause than faith.  A faith, like every faith tainted by the endless wars humanity finds itself stuck in.

Every pagan or Pagan, or ascetic and devoted follower of any religion has lived a virtuous life in their own faith, and been met by the scorn of lesser peoples with lesser minds.

Always an escape from the rules and structures of the world, in order to live a divine and pure life has been thwarted by the structure of our world, and the humanity of the humans in it.

There is a way past the carelessness of the Tora, of the Old Testament, of the Koran.  These are good rules for an old way of living.  But with the corruption of the world, we will soon seen it all over run by everything, by Moloch, by the Demon Greed made incarnate, by the endless corruption that is the pettiness of others driven by immorality, and inane compunctions for selfishness multiplied over and over by current social structures that have purported goodness, wealth, satiety and have provided myself and many others without that.

As one with an enlightened and visionary soul, I have lived a life beyond the norm, seen every extreme, and have been tempted by Greed, by The Alien Legion, by all we face in this world.  Yet, I have turned from it to decide my own fate by my own terms.  Often this has left me with less friends as there are many petty people who would love to take someone down and destroy the greatest, over their pettiness.  It is a demon in humans that wills one to all believe the same thing.  One should and must, as one is born in their hearts to know, be led by their own inner vision.

My heart sings.  My soul thrives.  I live on.  Yet I dream of a sentience beyond this, that others can ascend to my level of intellect and vision for the world.  Where all can love and be loved, and never be judged.  Where we can enter a virtual world where all illnesses are forgotten, where others bond, and form commun-ality and community.

VR (or Virtual Reality) Culture is coming fast, like a drug we will have to limit it each day.  But when it has arrived we will feel like we are limiting our interconnected-ness our full and total being, from living in a world and a structure where finances, where culture, all mean nothing.  A thought form a dream, a virtual world can be created in a second, whereas hearts can be broken in an instant on earth.