#2000's avant garde

[astral-ii]

i could never hate an armadillo shoe. ever

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

Maschinenfest 2000 2000 Rhythmic Noise / Power Noise / Avantgarde / Industrial / Hard Techno

Well, much like its 1999 predecessor, Maschinenfest 2000 is another comp that is unfortunately way too intensely hard and heavy for yours truly 😔. The idea of an electronic music festival taking place in a nuclear bunker deep underground in the German city of Aachen, which is where Maschinenfest originally spent its first handful of years, is certainly intriguing, but it's also most definitely not for me. However, if you're the type of person whose music taste consists of the Venn Diagrammed middle between noise, industrial, and hard techno, this 2000 double-disc might be more to your liking than Maschinenfest 1999, because while 1999 definitely has a bunch of similar stuff on it, it isn't fully rhythmic like this one is (and 1999 also has one less disc too).

So everything on here is dance music in some capacity, but it's not dance music for the faint of heart; this is stuff that was specifically made for post-apocalyptic ravers who sleep on beds of rusty nails and find the whole dystopian idea of having to wear a gas mask in order to avoid breathing in irradiated air enthralling rather than spooky. Lots of loud and distorted, crackling noise set to hard, pummeling rhythm here, and if you've ever found the residual sounds made by enormous industrial machinery and power tools in a factory to be soothing rather than dissonant, you'll probably wanna check this thing out.

Released in anticipation of the second annual Maschinenfest, these two discs from Germany's Pflichtkauf label certainly showcase a distinct type of electronic dance music, but this stuff is clearly niche for a reason. Ultimately, I'm glad that there's an outlet for avantgardist people who can delight in this significantly harsh sonic aesthetic, but I severely doubt that I'll ever end up cottoning to it myself.

No highlights.

[dankalbumart]

Clarence Park by Chris Clark Warp Records 2001 Glitch / Abstract / IDM / Experimental / Avantgarde / Ambient / Breakbeat / Synthpop

[stumpyjoepete]

There's this one episode of Columbo where the killer uses subliminal messaging in a film to manipulate their target. When I watched this, there were these very subtle yet still noticeable several-frame flashes of other images interspersed in the episode itself. Initially you just kind of brush them off as a glitch, and then eventually after the fifth time you're like. Oh. Damn. Shit. What an insanely avant garde meta thing for Columbo to have done! I need to go through this episode with a fine-tooth comb and figure out what the secret frames are! Surely someone has a webpage about this!

But it turns out, no one online is talking about this. I'm getting false-positives of people talking about Fight Club. I'm reading forum threads of Columbo fan forums from the early 2000s. I'm skimming someone's third watch-through of the series posted to Blogger. I'm trawling through 100 Fun Facts About Fan Favorite Columbo Episodes listicles. I'm reaching the parts of IMBD where the UI switches back to the version that was written in Perl in the 90's by my extremely divorced ex-coworker. Nothing.

Oh well, I'll figure it out some other time. Go watch the next episode. Also has these flashes. Restart browser. Flashes go away.

Oh.

[mundanewill]

A Grocery Shop With Me

I made this because I realized that the mundane and human isn't glorified much anymore, and I wanted desperately to make something you'd see on a geocities back in the day before everything posted on the internet became a contest of virality or trying to hold people's attention. This post is long and boring and human. Thanks for checking it out.

I ask my dad to drive me down to the grocery store. It's Sunday, a bit after 5PM, and the last bit of light from the sky is disappearing. I'm apologetic to him for asking to go so late - driving in the dark is dangerous, especially with nocturnal megafauna often wandering into the road - I mean moose, by the way. It's January 19th. Despite living in Alaska, it's really warm this winter. Dad saw through his Facebook memories that this happened 10 years ago, too. I'm wearing a hoodie and PJs because I didn't want to take any longer to get ready. I'm surprised it's warm enough, which is a pleasant surprise, because I haven't been able to dress this lightly and be comfortable for awhile. I'll not a fan of heavy or unbreathable clothing that winter wear tends to be made of - for good reason, it keeps the snow out. I'm fashionable enough that I don't feel ashamed to go out like this, either - I always wear bright colors and flashy patterns if I can help it. A lot of people tell me I cheer them up on dreary days.

As my dad drives down to town and the warm orange lights of the town street lights come into close view - hey, come to think of it, we don't have bright blueish LEDs yet, I wonder why that is? I'm thankful all of the sudden for that. - I think about how the world has changed recently with this whole TikTok ban thing happening.

I won't go into politics, so don't worry. This is supposed to be a relaxing retelling of a mundane trip. But my mind does wander in places I think can be challenging for some others to hear. This is my post and I'll talk about what I want to.

I think about how before the digital age of filming and camera - for you youngin's out there, this was about the introduction DVD era, probably the mid 2000s? - everyone looked a bit more blurry on physical mechanical cameras. There was less stress about flawless skin back then.

The 80's was a golden era of masculine body types on American film, in my opinion. Me and my boyfriend have been watching them non-stop lately, and it's become the highlight of my every day. Action stars didn't look as dehydrated, fat was over that muscle, body hair too. Actors were more often allowed to have acne scars and sometimes even blemishes.

I think about how the change to the digital era of film and pictures should've been an improvement. We were getting closer to seeing what people looked like in person, in high HD detail - but then we tried to go back. When photoshop got popular in the digital era models were digitally airbrushed more and more, and a lot of phone cameras now blur details on the face by default. I think about those AI filters that the TikTokkers love that change their face completely to look like some sort of 3D cartoon Disney film. It's a fun gimmick, but somehow it seemed like we've been trying harder and harder the more technology gets better to get further away from our own humanity. Airbrush it away instead of being glad to see humans being human, flaws included. I don't even want to call them flaws, they're just normal.

My boyfriend tells me a lot of my flaws are normal. I'm thankful for that, for him. He's definitely out of my league in terms of normalized societal beauty standards, but I believe him - I'm beautiful too, in my own avant-garde way. I wouldn't have it any other way. I dress like this, after all.

But yeah, back to TikTok - folks are joining RedNote instead. Double-edged sword; queerness is heavily censored in China, and the exclusion of queers in the "new app" feels scary to me as a normalization. On the other hand, Americans are starting to realize that China isn't a faceless terrifying boogeyman that our American propaganda machines have been telling us for decades. Despite having a massive Chinese immigrant population in America since forever, I'm amazed this is still such an issue.

"Where are we going first?" my dad asks. I tell him unfortunately I need to go to two different grocery stores in town today, since one has things the other doesn't. One of these grocery stores is of a massive chain that I always feel miserable going to due to the lack of workers, poor management and overcrowding.

We go to my favorite grocery store first. The parking light is sparse. I remember it's Sunday - I love shopping on Sunday.

When entering the grocery store, I always make the same route;

First, I grab a wet wipe near the front door. Even though most people have moved on from the covid pandemic, they still have this - I'm grateful. I wipe my hands off, then wipe down the handle of the grocery cart. There's a tiny trash can I dispose the wipe. Today, somebody left an apple core in one of the grocery carts. It's not my job, but I pick it up with the wipe and throw it away in that little can. I don't want the workers to have to do more work than they do. They treat their workers good here, there's never not enough staff and they seem happy to hire minorities too. My state is a red state, unfortunately.

I always go through the first aisle to get to the "edge" of the grocery store. The main central aisle of the store has a lot of foot traffic, and going around the side is usually the best way to avoid it. Even though it's incredibly quiet today, I still go this route - it'll "feel wrong" if I don't.

This aisle has all the limited-time holiday items. Even though I went grocery shopping the day after Christmas, they didn't discount the Christmas candy because of the population of Orthodox Russians who live nearby that have their Christmas in apparently January. I wasn't sure exactly when that was, so by the time I came back after, they were putting out Valentine's candy instead. Dang, no discount on Christmas stuff for me.

That's probably for the best. A major part of the reason I went to town so late today was because I developed a sugar headache from eating too much sugary breakfast cereal that I was saving for my birthday. I had already opened up the bag to share some with my mom as an apology for being difficult one afternoon, and I couldn't help myself - no, I couldn't stop myself from eating it like crazy. Chocolate rice crispies are the shit, man.

Sadly I was probably binge-eating a little because I had lost a lot of weight recently. I need to be careful about that.

I walk past the valentine's candy and make my way to the "edge" of the store, next to the wall. I walk towards -

Wait a minute, was that a DVD of Romeo and Juliet on the shelf? My grocery store sells cheap DVDs for a dollar in this unknown corner. I wonder if it's the same version of Romeo and Juliet my mom is obsessed with, but I figure she probably already has that DVD already. We try to collect DVDs we like when we can in case of the apocalypse when the internet goes down. Partially joking, partially serious.

If it is the Romeo and Juliet version she loves, I hope another person picks it up and likes it too. The last time I was here, I looked through the films and got what I wanted - the films I knew were good but didn't need I put in the front to entice other shoppers to pick up. I hope everyone keeps buying and keeping DVDs.

The next aisle I always go into is the aisle full of cheap organizational items and school supplies. Usually stuff in this aisle goes for less than 5$. I think it's because a lot of the stuff this grocery store gets is surplus from Costco. I don't have much money right now so I don't plan to buy any organizational items, but I feel I still need to go through it because that's what I do every time I come here. There's no organizational items in my preferred colors on the shelf this month. Maybe next month. They change it out seasonally. Today, it's red and green for Christmas, dark blue, and white. My mom likes dark blue but she told me to stop buying her these, she has enough. For 1 dollar a piece though it always feels worth it.

I then go into the juice aisle. They still don't have Langer's Raspberry Cranberry. It's the best flavor; every time they have a shipment of it come in, it sells out fast - probably because, like me, other shoppers buy several whenever that happens to stock up for the next drought of the flavor being unavailable.

Don't worry, I drink it heavily watered-down. That much sugar would kill me if drank straight.

I weave around the aisles in a bit of a daze; the headache makes it hard to think, I feel like it's stuffed with flem. Don't worry, I wear a mask still. Don't talk to me about this, it's not what this blog post is about. This is about grocery shopping.

I read my shopping list closely and go from there. I used to make my shopping lists in my Notes app on my phone which is something I highly recommend; it makes it easy to reorganize each item on the list by pressing and dragging, so you could sort the items based on where they are in the store. Foolishly I've been instead preferring to use my physical notepad in my kitchen that's attached to the wall with a magnet. I'm not sure why this is; maybe it's because I get so easily distracted on the phone nowadays or because it's fun to practice my ridiculous vaguely-Coca-Cola-inspired handwriting. My notepad paper is cute, it's bordered in pink with little pretty simplistic art of fruits. I should try to get back into the habit of making shopping lists on my phone though since I'm so often in bed anyway and my notepad paper is slowly dwindling at this point.

It's mostly restocking cash items this trip. I need to get paper bowls, disposable forks and spoons, toilet paper, and paper towels.

All these things are technically unnecessary (except the toilet paper, of course) and I do feel bad for the environment for using these, but I'm disabled, and they really make my life a whole lot less difficult when I just don't have the energy to wash dishes or do washcloth laundry non-stop. Maybe one day when my body is in better shape, I live in a better environment, and found meds that help me better, I won't feel cautious enough that I feel I need these for emergencies. It's better I eat instead of put off eating indefinitely since I don't feel like doing dishes. My brain does really not put my survival first, which is unfortunate, but just the reality of my life.

I follow my previously made instructions closely, glad that I don't have to think too much.

I do stop for two things I didn't have on my list - I look for thick bonito and Chinese five spice. The former I don't find, but even if I did, I'd be hesitant to actually pick it up since I already have the less thick variant and that shit is expensive even if worth it. The latter I do eventually find after staring at the huge wall of spices like I'm a Ferris Bueller character in a museum but end up not buying because I forgot what YouTube Shorts recipe I saw it in, and I should probably not buy anything that I don't have a recipe planned for in advance first. I tend to eat the same things every day and it's hard to summon the energy to break that habit and try something new, not to mention the dozen and a half medical food intolerances I have to make sure I'm not fucking with in the recipes I pick.

Gluten free flour will never be one-to-one with gluten flour no matter the mixture to me, sorry bozo.

The amount I get overall in my cart isn't too bad. I keep being tempted by candy bars and sweets I see around the store while simultaneously feeling like I never want to eat another sweet thing for as long as I live - it seems to just be a habit of mine to leer at them regardless every time I come in even though I rarely ever actually buy any. The kid me would be disappointed in my adult palette where more than one candy bar or soda in a day just feels like too damn much. I genuinely find fresh berries and flavored Greek yogurt plenty as a sweet treat, which I eat with breakfast every day. I only justify paying high for them because need the vitamins and shit.

The cashier seems like a cool guy. I've never talked to him much, but he always has a toy lightsaber on his belt or some other nerdy accessory with him at work. I'm not a star wars fan (I never saw any of the movies growing up, but I also have nothing against star wars and do plan to watch them eventually) so I feared talking to him about it in case I'm put into the awkward situation of having to admit I don't know anything about it. However, he's been bringing his toys to work for years now - I really respect him being a weirdo (a word used affectionately in my family). I'm glad nobody's mean comments has stopped him, if anyone ever did say something mean. Despite my town being right-wing, the population is overall pretty polite.

Dad is waiting in the car. I don't know why, but he insists he doesn't mind waiting for me to shop. I've become pretty efficient at shopping because of this. That doesn't mean I don't constantly tell I'm grateful or sorry though. At least his car has fantastic heating, and he has a smart phone to play with nowadays when he gets bored.

Onward to the grocery store I hate, the big chain. I'd never go there if I could help it, but when you're broke, you go to where the cheapest deals are. When we pull in the parking lot is almost empty! Which is something we almost never see. "I love shopping on Sunday." I mutter. "Especially on Sunday evening!" dad replies. Sunday is the quietest.

I don't hate people. I think after the start of the pandemic, a deeply ingrained dislike of brushing shoulders with strangers or smelling their breath never disappeared. It's unfortunate but it's kept me from getting any colds that weren't really mild for the last few years. I have other reasons why crowds and close proximities with strangers make me uncomfortable, but let's not get into that. Back to shopping.

No gluten free vanilla cake, still. I wonder who else bought it for it to go out of stock. Huh. Well, I still have chocolate saved in my freezer for my birthday. Was thinking of getting both flavors so I could share some with family, but they're not expecting much anyway, I'm sure. I'm not having a party or anything.

Even though I shouldn't eat gluten, I still look at the case of fresh donuts every time I come here. They never have custard-filled anymore. I wonder why they don't make more, since it's obviously the most popular kind. If I could find a custard one once, I might cheat on my diet for it. Mom likes them too, I could get her one at least. If there was only one custard-filled donut, not two, that one would be for her. I hope she still likes them. They are a bit on the too-sweet side, though.

Cinnamon sugar looks good.. I should try to make a gluten-free donut with cinnamon sugar one day. Not worth cheating on my diet for, though. Moving on.

My favorite flavor of greek yogurt is lemon and they're of course out - this store has been out of a lot of things lately. Maybe the roads the truckers use have been especially bad lately, I hope they're alright. The lemon flavor tastes just like lemon pie filling. Despite that, it has the least amount of sugar of the flavors from this brand. For some reason Strawberry has the most sugar in it. I wonder why that is?

I buy raspberry flavor even though I'll mostly be putting it on top of fresh raspberries. Raspberries are probably my favorite berry or even fruit, maybe because I grew up picking raspberries with my family every summer. Huge literal buckets of raspberries I could just eat handfuls of. Getting fresh fruit in Alaska for a affordable price is very difficult - it's probably at least twice the price as you experience, whoever's reading this. :( But it makes it feel all the more luxurious and valuable.

No cashew milk... it's my preferred milk for my coffee since I can't drink dairy. My eyes look over the milk section again. Then again. How could there be 5 different brands of Almond milk and not one for cashew? I look even closer - I can't even see where the cashew milk price sticker is, I eventually realize it must've been removed. Does that mean they're not going to stock it any time soon, maybe stop stocking it altogether? That's really unfortunate.

Even the creamers, not the milk, are all based on less fatty plant milks. Oat milk? Are you fucking serious? RICE MILK? I'm trying to be healthy and figure the creamers probably have some artificial shit in them to thicken them up. Not worth it. I'll look around in the coffee aisle, maybe something there.

I get my berries for my yogurt. Not much on sale, and the regular selection hasn't been available for over a month now. I do some math in my head to figure out what the best deal is in packages of berries - mixed or unmixed - I even weigh a box that seemed a bit light on the fruit scale to discover someone pilfered a little from it. I ended up buying discounted blueberries and, of course, raspberries. I regret not buying the raspberries at the last store which were 50¢ less despite them being a bit more on the dangerous side of ripe. The chain store usually has more fruit sales and better quality control so I prefer to buy fruit here, but the idea that I'm giving money to this shop instead of the more local one does give me a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. If I ever get rich, I'm shopping more ethically. I'm still mad after finding out the fancy icecream I bought here in the past on sale was still being sold for 7$ less at the local grocer. Yeesh. Gotta make sure I keep price comparing. Should I start writing it down?

Right. Dad's waiting for me. I already wasted too much time trying to find cashew milk. The coffee aisle is full of almond milk too. Macadamia nut milk isn't bad, but over 7$ for a tiny half-carton makes me wanna gag. No cream for my coffee for awhile. Damn. Might just prefer to cut coffee out of my diet, really.

I get into the car. Dad offers me a pastry from a tiny box he apparently went into the store and bought while I was shopping. Despite my fear of sweet things at this point, I accept it because I'm just so excited to get a treat from my dad frankly. It's a bite-sized pastry that has sugar glaze and raspberries inside. It's one of the best things I've ever tasted. My headache doesn't get worse, thankfully.

He asks if I want to go anywhere else. I tell him it's not important even though it is to be - I want to go back to the grocer I like and get milk, but it can wait for the next trip.

He says he'll do it, no problem. I run in and out fast. No cashew milk there either, but I got coconut cream and extremely cheap almond milk for about 5$ total. Not bad. We make do. Almond milk for flavor, coconut for fattiness.

As we're driving home, I remember that my boyfriend said he wouldn't be available to call tonight. He lives in Poland and my evening is his morning. He's having fun with his brother visiting, and I told him to have fun. It's a bit sad not having our daily evening call to look forward to, but I can also do something else by myself instead when I usually don't have the opportunity to.

When we pull into our little rural neighborhood, the neighbor's dog Sandy is walking around the road in the dark. Dogs walking around freely isn't unusual in my neighborhood; almost all of them are trained farm dogs that protect and herd free range livestock, and since we're outside of city limits laws regarding dogs on leashes don't really apply. It's unusual to see her out, though, and when my dad parks his car she comes right up to my car door and lets me pet and scritch her soft little head as I put my ice cleats back on my boots.

I walk down the driveway and grab the family's sled before returning to my dad's car and loading up the sled with my groceries. I thank him again and tell him I love him.

My cabin is at the end of a long trail that's inaccessible to cars. I pull the sled up to my doorway and bring in the groceries and a big water bottle made for water coolers since I don't have running water. We refill them regularly with free drinking water spots, one of which is in front of that very chain grocery store.

The rest of the evening is pretty uneventful. After putting my groceries away, I heat up some leftover chili my mom made me and send her a message thanking her for it. I play a little FFXIV, browse tumblr, then lay in bed to rest my back. While shopping earlier, my ankle started to cramp up. I broke it pretty badly by slipping on ice a few years ago. It reminded me to stretch and exercise it a bit more. I move my ankle a little before I get distracted with some stupid YouTube videos and phone games. Putting on a Hollowtones stream vod, I fall asleep into a nap.

I wake up after midnight, my headache finally gone. My boyfriend sent me a message enthusiastically telling me he took a shower this morning. I'm proud of him. Life is hard.

[yellowtomb]

I am in absolute shock of how many tributes to David are about how he 'changed their life'. Not influencing, but changing. My personal road to his art was 30 years long. Only two years ago, after the start of full-scale war, I finally fell under the spell of his art and craft. After watching Mulholland drive. And then two seasons of Twin peaks, binged mostly in a week, my love for him was cemented fully. Such an apologetically original vision on tv, was there even something else like this ever before? In a television media, which has a special place in our hearts, as those stories and characters are welcomed in our homes, and not witnessed in cinema theatres. Twin Peaks was also phenomenon in post-USSR countries, as it was one of the first western series on millions tv screens. What a cultural shock it was, probably. And then I watched Fire walks with me and was devastated and shocked by the tone-change, the jump between his pre-90s visual language to his 2000's one. And yet, it was still 1991. Seeing Mullholand drive before FWWM felt as a time travel. I was honestly in ave. And i still haven't seen Inland Empire, Wild at heart, The straight story and his short movies. An avant-garde, surreal artist, who was never pretentious, whose vision was always honest and introspective and his sentimentality - pure and full of love to this world, no matter what. I cry for loss, but also in gratitude. Thank you, Mr Lynch.

[feeeshman]

for real tho, America's Next Top Model. the video game. for the Wii.

this thing is as shovelware as shovelware gets, and yet it's hilarious and baffling in how good quality the soundtrack is. it sounds exactly like a trashy reality show from the 2000's in all the best ways possible.

the smooth as hell percussion in this one?? and that sick as hell flute moment in the second half?? fuck it up pied piper!

literally catch me in the in the club bumpin it to this one. antp for the wii walked so charli xcx brat could run

like this shit bumps hard. using shattering glass as an instrument? avant garde...

if you want to see what this insane game is about for yourself i highly recommend this let's play series by lucahjin on youtube. its a few years old now but her and her husband are hilarious riffing on this weird ass game.

[yesimwriting]

What would you say is best friend reader’s signature scent? The perfumes she’d commonly buy and soap brand she bathes with

anon i am absolutely obsessed with this question and you for asking it, it's so creative and i think perfume/soap choices say sm about a person

i see best friend reader as leaning into the warmer "spunkier" side of classics, so ig what i'm saying is she's a little avant-garde in the way she presents herself/wants to come across

i got a little excited breaking down my reasoning and describing scents,, so i'm putting the straight forward answer here and my logic below the cut:

perfume: juicy couture eau de parfum and/or dior j'adore

body wash: bath and body works' warm vanilla sugar and/or country apple and mango mandarin

in perfumes/scents i think the vibe i described above translates into a vanilla base and floral notes but in a fun way and while i don't see best friend reader following every trend, she's still very much an embracer of early-to-mid 2000's culture

combining all of that, i think her signature scent could be the juicy couture eau de parfum!! this perfume is rooted in a vanilla and woods base with notes of fruity white floral (specifically green apple and mandarin) (fun fact, i have its sister scent "viva la juicy" and love it,, but the stronger floral/fruity notes of the og make it feel more best friend reader)

i can also see best friend reader regularly using dior j'adore, it's more fruity and floral than vanilla but still very that girl and classic while still being fun

i couldn't find too much online about early 2000's soaps/body washes so i'm not sure how accurate this will be but i can see best friend reader being into bath and bodyworks,, specifically warm vanilla sugar body wash, and maybe country apple or mango mandarin body wash/lotion during the summer when she's feeling a little more nature-based

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

Sonic Youth - The Last Place On Earth, Memphis, Tennessee, August 16, 2000

Hello, 21st century! At this point in our #SonicSummer trek, Sonic Youth is a band leading a double life. As we saw last week, they were diving deeper and deeper into the avant-garde, experimenting and expanding. But they were also an alternative rock band on DGC — and in the sweltering summer of 2000, they found themselves playing sheds and arenas with the biggest alternative rock band ... Pearl Jam!

In between a few of these opening gigs, SY scheduled some very cool Perspectives Musicales shows — there's a great one available officially over on Bandcamp ... and there's this excellent audience recording from Memphis, which happens to feature the guy Thurston refers to as "our friend Ed." That's right, Eddie Vedder is making a rare Doom & Gloom appearance. What a world.

Yeah it was a hot night in Memphis — literally. "I think this is the hottest club I've ever been in," Kim reports at some point. And considering her two decades on the road, that must mean something. But the band rises to the occasion. Things kick off with a full set of improv, noise and solo spotlights. Dig Thurston's solo 12-string renditions of "Rain On Tin" and "Disconnection Notice," instrumental previews of 2002's Murray St. Or Jim O'Rourke's rocked-up version of his "Halfway To A Threeway," Steve Shelley adding a vicious "Down By The River"-style beat. Or Jim, Steve, Lee and Ed jamming out! You gotta hear it to believe it.

After those good times, there's a straightforward Sonic Youth set. With O'Rourke in the mix, the band has found a new level of professionalism. That's a good thing! The dynamics are heightened, the feedback swells almost sleek in their execution. NYC Ghosts & Flowers may not be anyone's fave SY record, but the stellar performances of that material here suggest that it's a sleeper in the catalog. And the old stuff is killer, too; with Jim taking over bass duties on "Kool Thing," Kim gets to stalk the stage like Iggy Pop. Hit 'em where it hurts!

[vi-tamblyn]

[transwoman and she/her] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [VIOLET "VI" TAMBLYN]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [HUNTER SCHAFER]. You must be the [TWENTY-FOUR] year old [FREELANCE MAKEUP ARTIST]. Word is you’re [ROMANTIC] but can also be a bit [RECKLESS] and your favorite song is [SUPER GRAPHIC ULTRA MODERN GIRL BY CHAPPELL ROAN]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [CRYSTAL COVE CONDOMINIUMS]. I’m sure you’ll love it! 

pinterest || playlist

@aurorabayaesthetic

Full Name: Violet Celeste Tamblyn Nickname(s): Vi Age: 24 Birthday: August 6th, 2000 Astrological Sign: Leo Place of Birth: Aurora Bay, California Parents: Thomas Tamblyn & Willa Tamblyn (deceased) *Siblings: Older Brother, Kenny Tamblyn ( @kennyxtamblyn ), and Ford Tamblyn ( @ford-tamblyn )Children: N/A Pets: Hamtaro (2 year old chinchilla) and Opalescence aka Opal (unknown age Fancy Mouse) *Relationships: see belowScars: A few surgery scars Tattoos: N/A Sexual Orientation & Gender: Bisexual & Biromantic (but more femme leading) ;; Transwoman Occupation: Freelance Makeup Artist *subject to change as roles are taken

bullet points

tw: mention of a side character's suicide

○ leo: the lion, a fire sign, the sign ruled by the sun. it's no wonder that violet celeste tamblyn came into the world with a roar rather than a whisper. during a sweltering summer evening on august 6th, her first cry was said to be heard from multiple labor and delivery rooms away. from that moment on, it seemed vi was always making some sort of scene. everything she does is dramatic, over the top, or just plain eye-catching. she is the main character of her own life and you cannot tell her any different.

○ she's been obsessed with rodents for eons: mice, rats, chinchillas, you name it. the minute she was able to get her own apartment, she adopted Hamataro the chinchilla. a few weeks ago, she got her first (of hopefully many) mouse named Opalescence who is also known as Opal.

○ since she was a toddler, vi had shown an interest in makeup. most of the time she was grounded or put in time-out as a kid for destroying her mother's makeup when she played dress up. when watching tv one day when she was eleven, a reality show called face off was on. watching these people who got to apply insane sfx makeup all day and call it work? it sounded like her dream. from that moment on, she knew she'd stop at nothing to become a makeup artist. and while yes, these days she does more avant-garde beauty makeup her heart will always belong to all forms of makeup.

○ vi always knew she was a woman. however, it wasn't until high school that she felt comfortable enough (and had the vocabulary to vocalize it) to come out to both her family and close friends. she will always be thankful for the outpouring of love and support that followed. her transness is a mark of pride for her.

○ her love of women knows no bounds. before she came out, vi was always conflicted in her identity (besides the obvious feeling of not being who she was meant to be) since she grew up in a society where most amab people who acted more 'femme' must have been gay. but she always had crushes on the girls in her class. today, she does identify as bisexual since there have been a few masc people who have stolen her heart and delighted her eyes but she still mainly has crushes on more femme people.

○ this girl is loyal to a fault. if she is your friend, you will have a friend who will enable your every wish. boyfriend cheated on you? she's driving up at 2 am to bring you to TP his lawn, smash his car window, then buy you a meal from mcdonald's afterward. though her heart is in a good place, her love can be intense.

○ speaking of love, she is a serial dater. hozier once said "I fall in love just a little, oh little bit every day with someone new" and that line was probably written about vi. in the span of a few months, she will be infatuated with a person, date them and treat them as if they are the only human in the world, then dump them when another person catches her eye. as she would say "it's not my fault so many people are fantastic." but she swears guys, the next time she falls for someone: this time it's for real (*cure the collective 'sure jan'*).

○ growing up as the baby of the tamblyn family proved to suit her proclivities for the dramatic quite well. everything they did was over the top: her seventh birthday saw her parents rent out a whole zoo just for her and her friends to spend the day. being recognized everywhere she went only went more to her head. she loved the glitz and glamour of the so-called 'high-life'. but what goes up must come down, right?

○ when she was fourteen, the tamblyn empire came crashing down. before she could really even comprehend what was going on, she was whisked away to live with her oldest sibling, was pulled out of public school in favor of homeschool (a blessing she can now see from an adult point of view), and was left to watch the ashes fall from the window of seclusion.

○ the world would never keep vi tamblyn down, though. she refused for that to be true. the money was tight, so she decided to start advertising her cosmetics skills to people she knew from middle/the one year of high school she went to for prom or graduation. well, aurora bay wasn't very large so word got around quickly about her (in her own words) impeccable work. clients continued to build, her portfolio becoming fatter and more impressive. just 3 three years ago was when she got her biggest break: an indie movie being shot out in LA needed a makeup artist to replace their original and one of the sound girls happened to have been an ex-client (always keep those connections, kids!) who recommended her. it went of swimmingly and she has now been a go-to for many of the underground, more scrappy directors trying to make it in LA. so much so, there was a time she was considering moving in with a few of the friends she had made there. but life couldn't be that simple. not when you were a tamblyn.

○ after her mother committed suicide, vi knew she wasn't going anywhere. there was an almost animalistic need to stay at her home. maybe it's because the sights of the shops around aurora bay made her feel calm, the sounds of the waves on the aurora bay beach at night her favorite symphony. so, put is where she stayed. finding a roommate, she signed a lease at crystal cove condominiums and has been commuting to jobs when need be. will she become too big of a fish in her mind for her home pond?

wanted connections / plots

*most wanted

platonic

○ her roommate* ○ childhood friends from aurora bay ○ close friends ○ neighbor ○ ex turned good friend ○ co-workers/other people in film ○ frenemies ○ her absolute ride or die ○ besties

antagonistic

○ an ex that was very burned by her serial dating

romantic

○ the person who will make her calm down (just a tad) ○ slow burn ○ tinder date(s) ○ enemies to lovers ○ friends to lovers ○ hookups ○ infatuation of the month(s)*

[grandhotelabyss]

“I have a Ph.D. that is essentially what a B.A. used to be, and a B.A. that is essentially what a high-school diploma used to be” How did this decline happen? I’ve been grappling with it as I finish my own bachelors, and have increasingly come to realise how worthless most of my education (barring a few god courses) has been. And I’ve spent fifteen-odd years in which I had maximum brain plasticity just being conned, and now it feels like it’ll take at least fifteen more years of hard dedicated effort to get to what still feels like a basic level of understanding.

And after that, I can barely share it with anyone because no one else even realises they’ve been scammed, let alone cares enough to put in the effort to fix it. Like that post you linked that starts with “I think the most depressing fact about humanity is that during the 2000s most of the world was handed essentially free access to the entirety of knowledge and that didn’t trigger a golden age”, I agree with a lot of points in the article but it’s also that no one my age (and frankly no more than one or two of my fifteen or so professors from the last four years, indicating to me that the rit goes way further back) gives a single shit — it doesn’t even rise to the level of nihilism (to misquote Lebowski, “at east it’s an ethos!), or even apathy, it’s just this fucking void. lol but I still love to learn so I’m okay for now

Paradoxically, too much information is as good as no information. You'll learn more history from one book than from an overwhelming set of shelves. I think Pound said somewhere you'd be better educated if you knew 10 great books well than 1000 books casually, or something like that. (He also said culture is what's left when you forget what you've read. I think that's exactly right. Then again one can't agree with everything Pound said.) Another one-word answer is "democratization." Serious education was once reserved for what was at least notionally an all-male aristocracy of clerics or warriors. Once you start letting people like me or George Eliot in on it—genetically speaking, I should be farming the stony hills of Abruzzo like my great-grandfather, and she should have been rearing the children of a Midlands estate manager like her father, and neither of us should ever have learned the name Spinoza—then it's probably inevitable that the curriculum is going to change in its temper and emphases. The loss of ancient languages and of any coherent historical narrative at all is regrettable, but we know many other things—things they, the old elites, didn't know at all, even if we're weak on our Latin and Roman history, o tempora, o mores!

The ultra-left communist Loren Goldner, whose website Break Their Haughty Power I used to like to peruse years ago when I should have been learning Latin and Roman history out of a book, died this year. (I found him because he would place ads for his wonderfully eccentric self-published book Herman Melville: Between Charlemagne and the Antemosaic Cosmic Man in the back of The Nation or Harper's or suchlike circa 2004.) In 1995—1995!—he wrote an essay called "The Online World Is Also On Fire: How the Sixties Marginalized Literature in American Culture (and Why Literature Mainly Deserved It)." There he wrote, and here I'll end, though in another mood I'd disagree with this vociferously, that what has displaced centralized traditional learning is a dispersal of micropolitical erudition, history as the breaking of the vessels:

The 60’s were a vast return of the repressed, something like Aschenbach’s dream at the end of Death in Venice, whose repercussions have by no means played themselves out. There was a vast stretching of the culture’s sensibilities, which pre-empted the traditional role of art in that stretching, precisely because much of it originated in the art world of the previous avant-garde The result has been an explosion of books on subjects unimaginable 30 years ago. Take the works of the gay historian John Boswell on medieval Christianity and homosexuality; they are almost literally inconceivable without the Stonewall riots. One could find hundreds of similar books, of uneven quality, on the history of every one of the cultural taboos shattered by the 60’s. Again, one can be more or less enthusiastic about the intellectual climate unleashed by “cultural studies”, but they are just one example of the kind of opening of the “doors of perception” that has occurred, with which few novels compete. The idea that novels convey to us an irreplaceable feel for daily life is unfortunately confined to the times and places in which novels were written, which is pretty limited historically and geographically. In an hour in a high-quality bookstore one can find massive studies of Shi’ite theology and its impact on Iranian history, the social history of Memphis in late antiquity, Amazonian shamanic medicine, Jewish mysticism in 13th century Barcelona, the impact of alchemy on the history of science in the West, the 16th and 17th century utopian millennia in the New World, the role of transported radical political convicts in the formation of 17th century Jamaica, Ifa divination, 17th century Andean resistance to Spanish colonialism, 18th century Aleppo, the architecture of Barabudur, and T’ang aesthetics, (and these are just subjects that leap to mind) and about which next to nothing was widely available prior to the 60’s. Lionel Trilling never heard of such things, and that’s too bad for Lionel Trilling, and the cramped reality he represented. The novel and poetry are not merely competing with on-line reality, they are competing with the growing discovery of realms of history more fantastic than anything that could have been made up.

[lol-jackles]

https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/tv/tv-news/nbcuniversal-grotesque-depraved-mistreatment-reality-tv-lawyer-letter-1235551194/?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=social

Hollywood is just falling apart at the seams at this point jfc.

Link.

"NBCUniversal and Bravo have just been hit with a lawsuit, which accuses the networks of mistreating the personalities of their many reality shows."

Anybody else remember when Bravo was initially a channel made for foreign, avant-garde, artsy media? Now it's all Real housewives of etc etc. This is called "channel drift". Sci-Fi channel is my favorite "channel drift study". Then in the late 90's/early 2000's, they started focusing on original programming, leading to a Golden Age of shows like Stargate, Farscape, and Battlestar Galactica. Then in the late 2000's/early 2010's they renamed to "SYFY" and started airing bad sci-fi movies (like Sharknado) and their original shows they broadcast stopped being grand "space operas" and instead became "police investigating paranormal stuff" type shows. And wrestling.

Nah, Hollywood is not falling apart at the seams, they are just going through "channel drift" on the big scale.

[newleasemusic]

Rapper Nicki Knightz returns with EP, 'Lonely Girls Hearts Club'

Rapper Nicki Knightz returns with EP, 'Lonely Girls Hearts Club'

Hackney rapper NICKI KNIGHTZ latest EP, ‘Lonely Girls Hearts Club’ is a rollercoaster of both extreme highs and painful lows, produced by genre bending partner in crime Henny Knightz. This is her third project following 2020’s ‘For The Uninformed EP’. ‘Lonely Girls Hearts Club’ is an 8 track play which marries early 2000s nostalgia, rap, avant garde samples and classic 808s. A both playful yet…

[alexandrinelirola-blog]

Il y a des souvenirs oubliés qui resurgissent quand ils font sens.

Alors que je me remémore les films d’horreur de mon adolescence, ceux que je regardais en secret sur des sites de streaming disparus aujourd’hui ou carrément sur youtube, je me rappelle d’une conversation avec mon père. Nous parlions de la polémique autour de La Vie d’Adèle (on arrive aux films d’horreur ne quittez pas) d’Abdelatife Kechiche, nous devions donc être en 2013, année de sa sortie, j’avais 16 ans. La Vie d’Adèle avait fait parler pour ses scènes de sexe explicite, tout le monde criait au porno, la critique était soudain très au clair sur la limite entre l’érotisme et la pornographie, on citait L’Empire des Sens à tout va. Je ne me souviens pas de l’entièreté de la conversation que j’ai eue avec mon père, mais je me souviens qu’il m’a dit, en quelque sorte : pas besoin de montrer du sexe pour parler d’érotisme. Qu’il avait vu des scènes de paysage plus érotiques que La Vie d’Adèle. Cette phrase de mon père, que j’avais finalement trouvée assez snob, m’est revenue récemment, alors que, désormais plus amatrice de James Wan que de Kechiche, je me demandais : comment expliquer la mélancolie de certains films d’horreur ? Comment expliquer que certains sont des drames ? Comment décrire L’Orphelinat, Martyrs, Frontière[s], Dark Water, Ringu, Kairo, Silent Hill et tous les autres ? Aujourd’hui, je pense le dire ainsi : le drame dans l’horreur, c’est l’érotisme dans le paysage.

Il est tentant de dédier une catégorie aux films d’horreur dramatiques. Si je devais la décrire, je dirais qu’elle tient de la littérature Gothique : des histoires qui infligent à leurs personnages une aventure surnaturelle (ou pas) après laquelle leur vie ne sera plus jamais la même, des aventures transformatrices dont la temporalité est ressentie intensément et qui finissent généralement dans un incendie (ou un bain de sang). La J Horror des années 90, par exemple, est terriblement gothique : des malédictions qui ne laissent à leurs victimes qu’un nombre de jours très précis avant de mourir, des fantômes menaçants qui se révèlent être des victimes en recherche de consolation. Et la terrible French Frayeur des années 2000 n’est-elle pas aussi étonnamment dramatique ? Ses protagonistes voient leur vie changée par un événement extrême (en général plus réaliste que paranormal, à quelques exceptions près) dont ils ressortent non pas changés, mais bien traumatisés (Ghostland de Pascal Laugier, bien que plus tardif, en est l’exemple par excellence, son scénario reposant intégralement sur le concept du choc post traumatique). Les films d’horreur dramatiques ont en fait l’originalité de prendre le killcount au sérieux, et de le faire ressentir comme un véritable deuil. Mais si l’on aime classer les différents sous-genres de l’horreur, il y a des passions qui leur sont transversales, et le drame traverse les catégories.

L’horreur dramatique met en œuvre ce que ma mélancolie m’a toujours fait ressentir : de la tristesse dans tout, jusque dans la peur. Être triste au début du film parce qu’on sait que quelque chose de terrible arrive. Être mélancolique à la fin du film parce qu’on à vu le pire. L’adolescente que j’étais, qui regardait des films d’horreur en secret et se rendait au collège les yeux collés, a regardé les pires films qu’elle pouvait trouver sur internet, car si l’horreur vit beaucoup dans les salles de cinéma agitées, elle est aussi, beaucoup regardées en cachette, dans les recoins les plus intimes des chambres d’adolescent.es. Dans ces alcôves, l’intensité des films d’horreur n’agit pas seulement sur la peur, elle fait tout ressentir avec intensité. Les corps, le sang, la musique, les sentiments sont exacerbés, et n’est-ce pas là une sorte de description de l’adolescence ? Alors, ce qui me reste de ces nuits blanches n’a jamais été de la peur, ou pire, la confusion que ressent un enfant qui tombe sur des images qu’on ne lui explique pas. Non, je garde de ces films pleins de boue, de sang et de métal, dont je ne comprenais parfois que la moitié des dialogues, un souvenir mélancolique : des fantômes tristes, des corps torturés, des esprits traumatisés, des images grises, jaunes, brumeuses comme mes souvenir des années 2010. Aujourd’hui adulte, je cherche ce sentiment partout. Il me manque.

Dans l’Orphelinat (2007, J. A Bayonna), une mère cherche désespérément son jeune fils disparu mystérieusement. Des fantômes d’enfants hantent sa maison et la terrifient. Des bruits de coups résonnent dans les murs, des bruits de pas résonnent dans les couloirs. Au bout de plusieurs mois, elle retrouve le corps de son fils dans la cave qu’elle redoutait tant : il s’y était enfermé par accident, et les bruits dans les murs étaient ses appels à l’aide. Les fantômes qui faisaient si peur voulaient aider sa mère à le retrouver.

Rien n’est jamais là où on le cherche.

[fabiansteinhauer]

.

Viele Thomas(s)e/ eine Ophelia Lindemann

1.

In kritischer Justiz ist von vielen Thomas(s)en (und Sabinen!) zu lesen. Ophelias haben es geschrieben und eine Ophelia Lindemann. Nur die Ophelias lesen die Thom-Asse wie Massen (nicht die eine Ophelia), die etwas tragen, das eine Tracht ist. Die eine Ophelia liest sie wie einen Thomas, der etwas trägt und trachtet. Die Ophelia hat Body-Politics/ Anwälte in Anzügen geschrieben und den Text in der KJ veröffentlicht. Das Schreiben schreiben akzentuiert Anwälte in Anzügen (teilweise sind das Maßanzüge). Solche Anzüge haben Züge und machen Züge, daher haben sie ihren Begrifff. Zügen widmet sich Aby Warburg auf den Staatstafeln, aus gegebenem Anlass. Anlass sind die Lateranverträge, die auch etwas tragen, das eine Tracht ist. Daher haben Verträge ihren Begriff, sie lassen tragen und trachten. Warburg analysiert und kritisiert diese Züge rechts- und bildwissenschaftlich, was einschliesst, sie auch begriffshistorisch zu analysieren und kritisieren. Warburg ist insoweit ein Post-Strukturalist avant la lettre. Die Tafeln operieren begriffshistorisch in doppeltem Sinne. Sie sind Teil der Begriffsgeschichte, über die sie etwas sagen sollen. Warburgs Methode scheint Wahnsinn, das ist wohl nicht ganz falsch. Er zerlegt alles in Letter, Buchstaben und Briefe, Mahle und klamme Sendungen. Das scheint Wahnsinn, aber genau das empfiehlt Rudolf von Ihering auch, das nennt Ihering eine Scheidekunst (ah, shit!) und sagt sogar, das sei eine juristische Methode. Zerlegen und Sequenzen bilden, trenne, assozieren und Austausch manövrieren. Die Digesten, die den guten Gästen wie Cajus, der seinen Namen von Gaius hat, insoweit gefallen, soweit sie eine nette Geste sind, haben von solchen Scheidekünsten ihren Begriff (oh, shit). Wenn die Zerlegung und anschliessende Sequenzbildung bei Warburg eine juridische Kulturtechnik ist, dann überlappt sich da etwas. Ich maße mir an, das zu schreiben, Dir und den Massen, may it suit me and the masses.

2.

Insbesondere auf Tafel 79 bildet Warburg Sequenzen zu den Zügen, die in Verträgen und Anzügen vorkommen, aber auch im Schwung eines Samurais, der einem anderen Samurai einen Kopf abhaut, im Schwung einer Golfspielerin, in Menschenzügen, die sich in einem Bogen am Rande des neues Staates, auf der Grenzlinie des Staates der Stadt Vatikan bewegen, im Zug, den Pferde an einem Wagen machen und schließlich im Photo von den Folgen eines Zugunglückes, auf dem ein Priester kniet, wie Julius II, der soldatischste Papst aller Zeiten, der für die größte Ausdehnung des Kirchenstaates gesorgt hat, ab da würde der Staat kleiner, wie die Schweizer Soldaten seiner Garde (Wacht) und wie Hieronymus, der ein früher Übersetzer der beiden Testamente war. Der Bogen ist irre und bleibt trivial. Er schwingt. Die Träger und Trachten schwingen und biegen sich, sie oszillieren. Warburg ist das, was man in der Geschichte und Theorie der Melancholie zur Zeit bipolar nennt. So einer sieht die Welt so. Das weiß ich aus eigener Erfahrung, die ist durchaus rauschhaft. Man sitzt in einem Raum in einem konzentrierten Gespräch, aber ein weiter Bogen Archäologie schwingt mit. An manchen Tagen sitze ich in einer Sekunde und 2000 Jahren, in der Hansaalle 41 und in Rom, in derselben Zeit, die man einen Augenblick nennt. Dann ist das ein Abschweifen, das geballt ist, es kann sogar gelingen, konzentriert zu sprechen und den Faden nicht zu verlieren. In hypomanischen Phasen ist 24 Stunden lang alles tausendzüngig und babylonisch. Thomas Melle hat in seinem Buch über die Welt im Rücken das anschaulich beschrieben. Hält sich die Bipolarität im Rahmen des römischen Kalender, ist das von April bis Juni ein rauschender Genuß, es ist herrlich und zeigt von einem Begehren, das fruchtbar und produktiv erscheint. In der Phase liegt auch Pfingsten, Shawout und die Feiern der weißen Göttin. Man feiert dann tausend Zungen, Offenbarung auf dem Gipfel und Milchspeisen, brüstet sich mit Literatur,Lied und Tanz. Das ist Mythos, der im Logos andauert und Antike, die nachlebt. Wer diese Kondition nicht hat, mag sich das schwer vorstellen könne, aber lesen kann man darüber. Das ist eine Kondition, die privat, öffentlich, biologisch, chemisch, astronomisch und meteorologsch, anthropologisch ist. Soviele Gesetze auf einmal, dagegen ist Transnationales Verfassungsrecht eine Schild mit 3 Regeln für den Kneipenbesuch. Wer diese Kondition hat, liest manchmal von dem Begriff der anthropologischen Konstante und lächelt nett, es ist bestimmt liebt gemeint und bleibt von ausschlagenden Wesen mit anthropologischem Geiz gesagt. Bis Juni nimmt es zu, bis São João, dann kippt es und erscheint nicht mehr so fruchtbar und produktiv, eher um Abschied Vorübergehen besorgt. Dann kippt es nochmal und erscheint saturnalisch bis marsianisch, also auch kriegerisch und destruktiv. Dann kippt es wieder und alles wird, wenn schon nicht gut, so doch venerisch. Hauptsache itAlien. Wenn alles relativ gut geht, hält sich die Polarität an den römischen Kalender, es kann es kann viel schlimmer sein, Thomas Melle hat es hart getroffen in seinem Schreiben. Das weiß Warburg am besten, 6 Jahre ist er aus dem Verkehr gezogen, aus einem Anlaß, den man so gegeben nennt, wie man Institutionen gegeben nennt. Das war der erste Weltkrieg. Man hat den Warburg aus dem Verkehr gezogen, nicht die Welt oder den Krieg. Da hat er sich gedacht, brauchte aber etwas länger Zeit dafür: Ich lass' mir meine Passionen nicht privatisieren. Kann sein, dass er schon genug privates Kapital hatte, um das leicht sagen zu können. Aber zu recht konnte Aby Warburg immer sehr wütend werden, wenn man behauptete, sein Talent und Wirken habe mit seinem Reichtum zu tun. Das Recht rast derweil mit, immer nihil sine ratione, immer rationiert und phasenweise.

2.

Von vielen Thomas(s)en liest man. Das klingt den lieben langen, aber doch auch immer viel zu kurzen römischen Kalender lang.

Thomas Vesting ist einer vom vielen Thomas(s)en. Man sagt, man solle 'kennst-du-einen-kennst-du-alle' nicht sagen. Aber man kann es sagen, sollte es sogar, wenn man an der Geschichte und Theorie juridischer Kulturtechnik interessiert ist und dann Verkettung analysieren und kritisieren will. Dann heißen die Formeln Viele Thomas(s)e und kennst-du-einen-kennst-du-alle sehr viel und sehr wenig. Das sind dann erstens Pathosformeln (im übertragenen Sinne) und zweitens Formeln aus der Formelsammlung vitam instituere/ debent, die in die Mode der Institutionen involviert sind.

Wenn juridische Kulturtechnik technisch ist, gibt es zwar eine Meta-Technik, aber die oszilliert mit. Man hat den Begriff der Rhetorizität so gelesen, als gäbe es einen Raum symbolischer und imaginärer Präsenz, der keine erklärenden Meta-Diskurs mehr zulieese, der nicht bereits rhetorisch wäre. Thomas Vesting hat das so geschrieben, in den besten Passagen seiner vier Bände, den Passagen von 2021 zum homo digitalis. Die ganze Person hat ihren Ort immer nur an einer Stell: in der Intimkommunikation. Das ist eine glänzende, liebenswürdige und zu beachtende Formel von Gunther Teubner. Schreiben, das vernetzt (Vesting) ist, hat seinen Ort nicht, das ist verkettet (Vismann), verhäkelt (Nietzsche) und verschleift (Ladeur) und oszilliert. Man erfährt über dieses Schreiben nur von Verkettung. Darum hat es seinen Vorteil, wenn man von vielen Thomas(s)en spricht, wie Ophelia Lindemann das schreibt, in leichter Routine Foucault wendend.

Ihr Schreiben im der Kritischen Justiz, wir wissen nicht, zu welcher Jahreszeit es geschrieben ist und lesen es zu Jahreszeiten, die wir wissen. Klingt es uns produktiv, wissen wir nicht, ob es ihr produktiv klingt et vice versa. Man braucht aber nicht viele Thomas(s)e, um von vielen Thomas(s)en zu lesen. Sie tun es einzeln auch. Man braucht viele Thomase, einer reicht, denn die ganze Welt kommt in ihm vor. Thomas Vesting verkettet sich in seinem Schreiben oszillierend.

Man kann das, je nach Jahreszeit, narzisstisch, mihilistisch oder teilnehmend lesen. Er verkettet sich witzig, mit wunderbarer Selbstironie, die ich an ihm, der einer von vielen Vätern ist, sehr schätze. Die Selbstironie hat unter anderem dazu geführt, dass er mir einmal zwei Geschenke gemacht hat. einmal, das war 2005 und ich war im Stress, weil ich die Bildregeln fertig machen musste, schenkte er mit Botenstoffe, die von Thomas Kling. Ein Jahr später, als Bildregeln erfolgreich abgeschlossen war und den Walter-Kolb-Preis bekomen hat, hat er mit Alte Meister geschenkt, dem Buch desjenigen Thomas Bernhard, dessen Autobiographie (die Pointe ist vorhersehbar, sonst wäre sie keine) Meine Preise heißt.

Wenn Leute sagen, ich sei mit meinen Assoziationen kreativ, frage ich mich oft, ob sie übehaupt schonmal juristische Texte gelesen und Fussnotenapparate gesehen haben. Die Juristen, zumindestens die guten, sind doch noch viel krasser! Wenn ich assoziativ bin, dann ist Thomas Vesting hyperassoziativ. Der ist einer der Meta-Diskurse, deren kleine Versionen wir auf unserem Handy mitschleppen, wenn wir Meta installiert haben. Thomas Vesting verkettet sich in dem Buch zur Transformationen der Subjektivität mit Thomas Carling und Thomas Gainsborough. Er hat das Buch provokativ geschrieben, aber doch mild provokativ, im Vergleich zu den Trollen im Internet ist das alles andere als provokativ. Im Vergleich zu Thomas Bernhard ist Thomas Vesting Agnus Dei, ein Osterlämmchen, immer bereit, eher sich als den anderen zu opfern. Funktioniert leider immer wieder, immer kriegt er auf den Deckel, was andere verdient haben. Aber provokativ ist er auch. Er nimmt das ius provocandi in Anspruch. Ich würde den Lesern unbedingt empfehlen, die Ironien darin zu lesen und nicht zu überlesen. Ich würde allen Lesern empfehlen, ein Buch zu jeder Jahreszeit einmal zu lesen. Vierfacher Schriftsinn, aber dann Frühling, Sommer, Herbst und Winter zuerst und, verketten, Thomas von Aquins vierfachen Schriftsinn im Sinn haben. Wenn Savigny nicht so blöd gewesen wäre, sich nicht den Künstlernamen Thomas von Savigny zu nennen, würden wir ihn nicht nur assozieren, wir würden ihn anketten. Thomas Vesting ist mit Yan Thomas, mit Maurice Blanchots obskurem Thomas und mit Caravaggios zweifelnden Thomas verkettet, denn er ist hochgeladen und in Zettelkästen gelandet, mit denen man kommuniziert, um zu kaschieren, dass man selbst der größe Zettel und dann immer noch der kleinste, engste Zettel ist, selbst wenn man sich mal großzügig fühlt, wie das so April bis Juni der Fall ist. Ich maße mir an, das zu schreiben, may it suit me from april to june. Wofür habe ich den meine venia legendi, wenn nicht für solche venerischen Maßnahmen?

Auf dem Workshop zum homo rhetoricus wird er in Realpräsenz nicht dabei sein, wie Ophelia Lindemann. Wir werden sie beide sehr vermissen und wie immer missen. Verkettet sind sie. Wir wissen und missen sie wie die Wolke, die wir immer wissen und missen werden. Lasst sie, haltet, bindet nicht! Nehmet an des Glaubens Flügel. Wozu? Nach Kreuzberg, mitten hinein in den Haufen Kreuzungen, die man englisch intersections nennt. Oscillate wildy, but watch your drop. That what watches are for. That what friends are for, yours sincerly friend Fabian

[christophe76460]

AUCUNE PUISSANCE DES TÉNÈBRES NE PEUT ME FAIRE DE MAL, NI ÔTER UN SEUL JOUR À MA VIE QU'IL M'A PRÉDESTINÉ, CAR C’EST DIEU QUI EN DISPOSE ET MES DESTINÉES SONT DANS SES MAINS, JE SUIS DÉLIVRÉ PAR SA VENU SUR TERRE IL Y A ENVIRON 2000 ANS EN MOI PAR SA NOUVELLE NAISANCE DANS SON SAINT-ESPRIT !

Matthieu 6 v 27

Qui de vous, par ses inquiétudes, peut ajouter une coudée à la durée de sa vie?

Matthieu 5 v 36

Ne jure pas non plus par ta tête, car tu ne peux rendre blanc ou noir un seul cheveu.

Luc 12 v 25

Qui de vous, par ses inquiétudes, peut ajouter une coudée à la durée de sa vie?

Luc 12 v 26

Si donc vous ne pouvez pas même la moindre chose, pourquoi vous inquiétez-vous du reste?

Lu 21:8 - 21:19

8

Jésus répondit: Prenez garde que vous ne soyez séduits. Car plusieurs viendront en mon nom, disant: C`est moi, et le temps approche. Ne les suivez pas.

9

Quand vous entendrez parler de guerres et de soulèvements, ne soyez pas effrayés, car il faut que ces choses arrivent premièrement. Mais ce ne sera pas encore la fin.

10

Alors il leur dit: Une nation s`élèvera contre une nation, et un royaume contre un royaume;

11

il y aura de grands tremblements de terre, et, en divers lieux, des pestes et des famines; il y aura des phénomènes terribles, et de grands signes dans le ciel.

12

Mais, avant tout cela, on mettra la main sur vous, et l`on vous persécutera; on vous livrera aux synagogues, on vous jettera en prison, on vous mènera devant des rois et devant des gouverneurs, à cause de mon nom.

13

Cela vous arrivera pour que vous serviez de témoignage.

14

Mettez-vous donc dans l`esprit de ne pas préméditer votre défense;

15

car je vous donnerai une bouche et une sagesse à laquelle tous vos adversaires ne pourront résister ou contredire.

16

Vous serez livrés même par vos parents, par vos frères, par vos proches et par vos amis, et ils feront mourir plusieurs d`entre vous.

17

Vous serez haïs de tous, à cause de mon nom.

18

Mais il ne se perdra pas un cheveu de votre tête;

19

par votre persévérance vous sauverez vos âmes.

CETTE PERSÉVÉRANCE NE PEUT MÊME PAS VENIR DE NOUS SA FAIS PARTIE INTÉGRAL DU DON DANS ÉPHÉSIENS COMME LA FOI QUI DONNE AVANT NOTRE FÉCONDATION À SON ÉLUES.

Psaumes 39 v 6

Oui, l`homme se promène comme une ombre, Il s`agite vainement; Il amasse, et il ne sait qui recueillera.

Ecclésias 3 v 14

J`ai reconnu que tout ce que Dieu fait durera toujours, qu`il n`y a rien à y ajouter et rien à en retrancher, et que Dieu agit ainsi afin qu`on le craigne.

1 Corinthiens 12 v 18

Maintenant Dieu a placé chacun des membres dans le corps comme il a voulu.

AmeN 💓🔥💓🔥💓🔥💓⚘