Monday, October 29, 2007

Really, there's nothing that I seek but consistency. Not constancy, because I guess that's a bit foolish. I want things to be coherent, in the sense that things make sense. Although logic isn't always the best means of achieving any type of coherence.

Truth be told, I'm a bit demanding. Which I understand can be annoying. I demand a lot out of people and our relationship.

The idea is that if you and I are sharing some kind of relationship, whatever the degree of involvement and whatever the manner of relation, we really owe it to the other to be our best, don't we? Or, to let them know what our best is, even if we don't embody it every single day. (It's tiring to focus like that all the time.)

I hate this post.

I want to just digest it all and while my inners rumble, I want my outers to give some brilliant display.

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Sunday, October 28, 2007

In Defense of Pop Culture, Whereby We Discover An Open Room

So, I love the new Britney Spears. When I say this, I am indulging in gayness that I typically try to avoid. You must realize how deep I had to reach to be so open about my admiration for the absolutely inane but impossible catchy power that is Britney Spears' pop music.

Blackout, if nothing else, represents everything that is good and wonderful about pop music. That being said, being such a supreme incarnation also means that it is deliriously bad. Well, only in the ways that pop music typically is bad. Thus, what we have is a really good record that is simply of no real artistic value, at least not in the sense of serious musical experimentation and exploration. But in this case, there are alternative criteria of value that we can apply to a completed work. The truth is that Blackout epitomizes the consumption, the random sexy dance-y fun that we have come to expect out of our pop culture.

While I do tend to despise the rather obvious line between high and pop culture that artists such as Britney Spears tend to bring in relief, this album is such a precise and exact distillation of pop culture that even people with their musical noses in the air should be able to appreciate this album for the refinement in pop sensibility that it so deftly displays.

In this sense, Britney Spears makes us re-examine the very line that I said she so clearly marks out. What we find is that the more we analyze that border, the hazier and hazier it becomes. When does fringe between mainstream? What does it mean to make that transition?

Would it be that terrible to throw away that black-and-white value system. Maybe we should stop trying to cram things into a critical framework that clearly does not properly capture the range of intentions, techniques, and effects of any produced work. I argue that the various dimensions of art make it impossible to properly define what constitutes "art" at all. But this should not impede our recognition of art. What I am saying is that we should not let our inability to define art stop us from promoting the creation of art.

Remove the stigma of pop culture, strip the glowing façade of fine art. The removal of the scale is necessary, because by believing that such a scale exists, we confine our own artistic abilities to the range of such a scale. In short, by bounding off the work of others, regardless of motive or means, we stunt our own growth.

Properly produced wine is formed through the fermentation of sugars by bacteria. Eventually all the bacteria will begin running out of sugar and will slowly be poisoned by the very alcohol that they helped produced. So too, must the diametric scale of art eventually destroy itself, forever devouring its own tail as head reached head, and the paradox of simultaneity crushes the whole mechanism with its own weight.

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Sunday, October 21, 2007

I Shouldn't Say This, But

The following, in relation to this:

Angela: Naomi is pretty though.
Me: A bit like Vanessa Hudgens. But a bit less wholesome. And a bit more personality. And not naked. (pause) Definitely not naked. That's a big difference. (laughs) I'm terrible.
Angela: I KNOW! I KNOW! No, that's what I was thinking of.

Seriously. It's impressive.

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Thursday, October 18, 2007


So I just sucked it up and bought the damned full-length peacoat. No regrets here. Especially not after the 30% coupon. And free shipping, might I add.

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Mark Us! For We Give You Good Grace

Standing there, I realized what had really happened. There was a flash, as though the past refused to be past and wanted to remind me of what it held in its grubby little paw. Jaws set straight, the edges of bared teeth rubbing ever so slightly.

Here, this seat was like some porcelain throne to a thing that he had banished to the far recesses. But though far, they were not impossible. It did not matter how they arrived; such formalities are meant for scientists. He remembered the deflated mallet sitting, dejected, upon his floor. It was tucked next to a bottle containing an empty ghost and a book containing a living one. The signs were still littered all over the room, his face. The white walls he now faced set things in greater relief.

That was why the sight tasted so strong.

I jumped back into place, abandoning the distance that stretched out like leather wings. Oh, now I am stealing another's soul. I feel ashamed.

Yes, shame. It burned like bad vodka, good whiskey. It burned in places that I did not know could burn, places where fire sprouted in cherry wisps that licked the stagnant early morning air. It left no scar. Shame never does. Never did. But I covered up the naked form, hoping that the red hot eyes would have no pores from which to peep.

I can run my finger through the air and I know exactly what shape I trace, what shape I trace with eye and tongue and endless thought. Outline formed, I fill it. I fill and fill and fill, from places deep and rocked with waves. And so the outline becomes a model, fit for nothing but a speedy, ruthless burial.

A dry throat indicated some regret. It was not mine to make, to mold. Perhaps mine to murder, but that was a presumption upon too many people's parts. I wish that this would detach. I wish for crystals to form and creak as they jut out. If my wish were to come true, they would breath out and expand into a thousand tiny broken postures.

They would not stand erect.

They would hang their heads, skew their spines, limply lay their limbs, thrust out their tongues, and remark that a portrait was fit to be made.

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Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Grey + Beige

Anyone who hears me blather all the time will know that I've been on the hunt for a nice slim-fitting, thick coat for fall that is slowly smothering the Bay Area with wind, rain, and fog. I found these three coats (that are actually in my size) at Revolve, all from Shades of Greige. I like to think of these as über-basics—the type of stuff that you can wear for (hopefully) forever but will never really look off trend without being boring as all-get-out.

First up is this rather traditional looking peacoat. They don't have the black in a small, but I actually like the grey better with this length. The pockets look nice, but I'm not so sure about the fit. It does look a little boxy, but that's what you would expect out of a full peacoat.

These two cropped coats (same cut, different color) also caught my eye. As I skinnier guy, I worry that the full-length will cut my proportions all funny. I do like the look of the buttons against the wool on the black version, but the grey is also nice. One fault is that the cropped coats don't seem to have as much detailing (like the pockets) as the full version.

I'm tempted to just pick up two of them and return them if I don't like it, because Revolve offers free shipping and supposedly their returns are "no hassle".

My wallet is whimpering in fear.

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Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Respect for...

The original. William Shakespeare (c. 26 April, 1564 - 23 April, 1616)

"Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones."
-T.A., III.i.4

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Monday, October 15, 2007


Moleskine during Hejinian's lecture about the uncanny as explained by Freud and utilized by James.

I think I'm getting sick. I've been sniffling all day, which was particularly awkward during English.

HEJINIAN: Uncanny...blahblahblah...heimlich...blahblahblah...repression...blahblahblah...castration...

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Roberto Cavalli for H&M

Thoughts coming in

I've been keeping my ear to the ground for news about Robert Cavalli working for H&M. It certainly was a surprise to hear that he had been the next designer selected to do a capsule collection for H&M. Cavalli, with his endless animal prints, Eurotrash sensibility, and Italian disregard for typical restraint has made him a darling for media-getting celebrities. But how well does that really translate into a mass market?

I am not one to be close-minded when it comes to fashion (Alison and Tavi kind of laugh at how eagerly I throw myself into my magazines), but I did have certain reservations about the idea. Would Cavalli really know how to cut for real people who did not have publicists and stylists and personal trainers? His ready-to-wear has never really been that notable and his accessories are usually pretty run-of-the-mill, over-the-top stuff attracts people who are attracted to shiny objects. Which is to say, that he makes shiny objects. Or stretchy. Or print-y. Leopard print-y.

There are other people doing trenchcoats right now at pretty okay price points that are far more interesting than this. Mediocre fit and not a particularly great color either.

I feel the suit cut isn't as flattering as other suits right now. The lines are a bit looser than I feel H&M's target audience is looking for. Shoes are nice, if plain. I'm wondering what that shirt looks like underneath.

I do not understand this knit. Other people have done chunky knits better and in far more interesting ways. There are better alternatives, even at the price H&M will probably offer this. Again, the shirt does prove intriguing. It'd be nice to see more collar variety introduced into the masses.

I don't know how I feel about a one-button, peak-lapel suit in navy. Especially if that the navy isn't really lustrous, and the photo makes me doubt that it is. Same shirt collar as 3, but in a monochrome. I will concede that this suit is much better cut than the previous one.

I'll be surprised if it's real suede. Perhaps just treated canvas? I don't know. The shape is nice, but some of the lines feel a little off.

Is anyone else getting a slightly feminine vibe off of these? I don't know. The height of the boot and the construction seems to set off the heel. And in my book, men's shoes should not be emphasizing the heel.

Those look like French cuffs. If so, I might be compelled. The tie appears to have some sort of printing on it. Animal print? Oy.

Do I hate it? No. Do I love it? No. Do I see reason to keep watch? Certainly. Although I am a bit confounded by certain choices in terms of fit and color, I don't think this isn't without merits. This  is certainly a type of style that is not commonly made available to the average Joe, which is a nice thing. I believe that this is an honest (if not completely successful) attempt to democratize fashion.

But my real hope is that designer collections like this will make the general public more aware about what's going on. I'm not insisting that everyone try to be a trendsetter or follow the designers with every season, but a general awareness of the present fashion scene does allow for one to avoid making an awkward faux pas.

Concept — C; It's an average collection of average clothing.
Wearability — B; Odd cuts hurt this grade, but dressy ready-to-wear at a reasonable price is never a bad thing.
Design — ?; Without really examining it, I can't really make any judgment call here.

I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

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Sunday, October 14, 2007

Well, Dragon?

Shakespeare and tea.

It's a lazy, productive kind of Sunday afternoon. I think I'm going to re-do my nails. In-depth grooming is best performed on a Sunday, mostly because you don't feel the real need to accomplish anything.

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Saturday, October 13, 2007

For Purposes Pertaining to Private Persons' Identities, This Shall Remain Untitled

Sometimes you are not meant to be asleep.

You begin with "the" and end here.
Sometimes you are meant dance to the rapture.
If you need instructions,
Then you need to seek,
One of Pendell's allies.
And meet me on some metaphysical battlefield,
We shall make some Antietam,
Well, shall we? Um—

I am sorry, I am not well today.
I have—um—hairs—airs—I'm in disarray.

You should go seek that ally.
We don't need to talk of that battle.
We can bury our dead,
Whether dream or plan or virtuous hand.
The soil shall sprout
Lilium candidum.

I will grow the flowers while you search,
Now you,

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Friday, October 12, 2007

Utterly Inappropriate

So Roísín Murphy has a new album coming out, Overpowered.

What can I say? This is a woman whose cover for the single Overpowered is her in one of the Viktor & Rolf light-fixture dress from the Fall 2007 prêt-à-porter show.

P.S. I will be incapacitated by DANCE.

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There's a definite need to get this all out of my system so that I can focus on more important things. Or at least spend time procrastinating about important things. Or at least productively procrastinate about important things. Okay. Fuck that. I'm just probably not going to do any "important things".

Awesome wool military-inspired jacket from Brown Sound at Urban (here). J'adore the subtle print, the collar, And big buttons. Oh I am mad for big buttons. Unfortunately, at $179, I don't really think I want to work it into my budget. My non-existent budget. It really reminds me how much I love fall. Trying to work my trench and my coated denim jacket more fully into my wardrobe right now. But I still do need a greater variety of coats. And a charcoal grey wouldn't be a bad idea.

A poly/wool blend vest for $19 at Forever 21 men's (here), on the other hand does not seem like a bad idea at all. My only concern is that stuff from Forever tends to be a terrible fit for me, and I want a vest (or waistcoat, if you insist) to be very well fitted. I've found plenty of great looking vests, I just need a great fitting one.

In terms of footwear, I'm looking for a desert boot, like the classic ones from Clarks (here). But at almost $94 and in suede I'm not so interested. I know that Clarks makes a leather version, but it has a different kind of construction that I don't like nearly as much as the classic clean cut desert silhouette.

I mean, so basically my life has come down to coveting.

Covet, covet, covet.

And how do we learn how to covet?

Damn. I just want some more Jodie Foster right now.

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Thursday, October 11, 2007


Donald Sutherland.

If for nothing else, watch Dirty Sexy Money for the blisteringly great job that he does as Tripp Darling.


The parts of your brain that process guilty pleasures and snappy dialogue will thank you.

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Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Make More, Not War

So Ezra Pound just reached out of the grave, grabbed me by the shoulders and shouted in my ear: "What you've done is not enough! You have done nothing to move us past where we were! You have pulled us back to the eddies that we struggled for so long to escape!"

And then I wake up.

And then I don't know whether I should be proud of ashamed.

Blue, brown, are orange grumble from the sweater on my bed, threatening to attack if not properly folded and returned to the sweater shelf. The objects of modern life have begun to make demands and it's usually a good idea to listen. We take the dictation of dollars, hoping that after we're done and we have the time to sort out our notes, we'll get a chance to make some sense out of it all. They possess a rhythm, humming with the certain energy of physical desire fulfilled. Their numbers, though not the ones we intend to compose when we write, govern us, with statistical wrath.

I cannot navigate my room, because it has ceased to be a room.

A curator could make a museum out of these found things; found and bought and cherished like a child.

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Monday, October 01, 2007

Respect for...

Klaus Nomi, performing "Cold Genius" from Purcell's "King Arthur"

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