luka

Well-known member
You're a cultivated person, luka - do you consider it a luxury? A "coarse, unfeeling" one?

Um, to some extent. In as much as to achieve it I have had to work quite hard to avoid all the things which would make that state an impossibility, for example the office work which my social position at birth would indicate me for.
 

luka

Well-known member
I've opted out of my clas role both in terms of the social sphere and the work sphere. I've dodged my fate and without having done that I wouldn't be able to reach or maintain this particular mode of consciousness. So in that sense it's not a life path available for everybody. In that sense it relies on other people sacrificing the possibility of this particular mode of consciousness, the level 7 poet, the ascended master, the adept. The world bard. The culture leader.
 

Corpsey

bandz ahoy
Joyce didn't avoid work entirely, or family, but he did consciously fly free of nets as he puts it in portraitoftheartist - and was extraordinarily selfish. I'm tempted to argue that you HAVE to be selfish to be a great artist, but there are counterexamples like Chekhov -

Chekhov visited the upper classes as well, recording in his notebook: "Aristocrats? The same ugly bodies and physical uncleanliness, the same toothless old age and disgusting death, as with market-women."
 

Corpsey

bandz ahoy
On the other hand, what's so great about working in an office, from the point of view of helping out your fellow man?

Other than people working for charities, shelters, etc. most people with jobs are just as self-absorbed and self-interested as the shivering aristo.
 

luka

Well-known member
Yeah the Shem stuff in finnegans wake is all about that squirming away and slipping the nets of the social order
 

luka

Well-known member
On the other hand, what's so great about working in an office, from the point of view of helping out your fellow man?

Other than people working for charities, shelters, etc. most people with jobs are just as self-absorbed and self-interested as the shivering aristo.

It's not about helping the fellow man it's the maintenance and reproduction of the economic order.
 

Corpsey

bandz ahoy
Stuck on the new Young Thug album and

"I got cars galore, lil' bitch, 'cause I'm rich
I escaped every one of the licks 'cause I was supposed to be rich"
 

thirdform

pass the sick bucket
I'd have to go back through this thread to see what you're getting at, though.

I mean, the "masses", with their rough hands are - I'd argue - much more interested in soulfulness than mechanistic music that replicates the dreary routine of their lives.

Not soulfulness in some sort of Romantic shuddering sense but in the sense of uplift, joy, passion. They're thirsting for it.

But maybe that's me being Victorian.

No, you've got this all horrendously bollixed up it's actually a bit funny. :p it's not that the masses are brainwashed by soulfulness or inhumanness - the proletariat isn't really a cultural category in the 21st C, if it ever was, or put it another way, it's only cultural in relation to its enemy but not its overcoming and abolition...

The problem is the foundations for music and art, I.E: extensive rhythmic time, is disappearing. actually speedcore gabba is a good reflection of this. even for someone like myself somewhat embedded in that stuff i do wonder if I'm just taking the absolute most quickist possible hit to the nervous system. and that's a valid enquiry. really the only reason I've been able to spend a lot of time digging over the past 3 years is I'm a bit mentally wobbly and can't be working 8-12 hours a day. It's a perpetual bugbear I have with this new generation of creatives, they always talk to themselves because they don't quite get how music and art itself has been subsumed by capital to obey its own categories, I.E: art is no longer labour but work (as a job.)
 

thirdform

pass the sick bucket
Stuck on the new Young Thug album and

"I got cars galore, lil' bitch, 'cause I'm rich
I escaped every one of the licks 'cause I was supposed to be rich"


yeah but really if you take that line it's just an infinite variation on dre or puff daddy so that's a weird way to look at it.

Like, not that i wanna be political/underground hip hop stanner here (my god) but you have to admit that rags to riches is the cultural export of America. so obviously its gonna sell in rap.
 

luka

Well-known member
What's the difference between labour snd work? Remember Marxism is a specialised discourse and one none of us besides you is familiar with. We need the jargon and concepts explained please
 

thirdform

pass the sick bucket
labour is what you do, for one self, for others or for bosses. work is specifically the mode of labour which is alienated from us and acts as an impersonal network of global domination, as you say to maintain the current economic system. Capitalism tries to absorb all labour of previous historical forms to its own categories of specialisation and abstraction, in short, strictly valued in terms of turning money into more money.
 

luka

Well-known member
I'm not sure, but I get the appeal on a gut level. I like the way Ballard describes cars, the way something like Hockney's A Bigger Splash looks, clean surfaces, chrome, the way the water looks in GTA.

surface
 

version

Well-known member
I keep thinking about what Mark said via Deleuze in The Barthes of Parties,

"... if superficiality is defined as lack of depth, is depth not defined as lack of surface?"


Hemingway's 'Iceberg Theory' seems as though it could be argued from either side. All surface and no depth, or all depth and no surface. The former because the depth's implied so all you have is surface, the latter because all the value comes from that implied depth and the surface itself is unremarkable.

That being said, I dunno that it's necessary or possible to separate style from content, so I'm probably tying myself in knots for the sake of it.
 
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luka

Well-known member
and etc. reading surface.
institutionalised buffet it never rains indoors
yellow costume halt for crossing chalk line
budgie at the glass. between bombs sweet tea
haunches fluttering
spore dispersal signal new
instalment
now
chainlink fence fatal entanglement once always no
escape jumbled home tooth horn
cemetery trumpet
invocation of the ancestors forgotten ones
gibbering just the words.
your theme emerges
an iceberg into harbour stately hulk.
 
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