Friday 21 February 2020

Pictorial 95


The straight line vistas of all politicians comes across clearly enough in the US elections. Everything – bar nothing – is “order and method” (Les Carabiniers). Everything is numerical, nothing is humanist. Bloomberg’s quote


Is worth picking out for what it says about the guy who took the seediness out of Times Square and the kitchen smells out of NYC. What is that but the living material that has the capacity for direct experience of the city without intermediation by spokespersons for order and method?

There are two things going on. One is the competitive milieu of a numerical order that uses numerical language. The milieu of physical boredom where the numerical and sexual become one (through the dragon of data).


The other is the living material that has a harmonic of life such as, say, Harlem



 
If you look at the photos there is a lot of work going on; what you could call neighbourhood businesses in-tune with neighbourhood affairs (see also Ghost World). That clearly involves collaborations and collective behaviour, but it is not competitive; more to do with a direct appreciation of the commune, the vibe, what’s happening.
There are other factors within such communes. Products are often artisanal and there are wrought iron staircases with the patina of age on weathered red stone. The people skip gaily down the street and tend to experience life without that directly competing with eachother.
In other words, the milieu for competition is not a traditional community with a harmonic vibe; it’s the illusory world of straight lines created by the likes of Bloomberg. Competition to “them” is just a word bandied about- by acolytes of order and method! The straight lines of electromagnetism; the masculine method.
This is an illusory situation without the gay air provided by a feminine harmonic. The female is womb and blood, the giver and taker of life. Ishtar, the goddess of war and fertility. For with fertility comes the blood-cycle of predator-prey. This is seen in the type of decadence that is power in nature; the growth through decay of strength and colour (Pictorial 66)
A traditional community weathers storms and is stronger for them. This was the case I previously made for Detroit, which was not subject to the federal processes of the civil rights era. Its poverty became a visible blight, if a picturesque one (Drama3)
However, the underlying communal fabric flourished and investment flowed. Detroit is a classic example of letting the female harmonic of blood – fertility and decay – run wild and not be pushed around by a masculine ethic of order.
The body is a harmonic instrument; the throat is coated with mucus that enables the voicebox to sing.  None of that worries acolytes (politicians) because they are only worried about the competitive order of the head gazing at screens – data, or “the mirror of nothingness.” This convinces the ego, and we move steadily towards a world built of straight lines, an illusion of the masculine ego.
That could explain why Clint Hillary or Merk el Angela are like all the others. They all inhabit a masculine ego of straight line data seen through screens. It’s all so convincing and fits a competitive ethos, but is totally lacking in blood and spirit of revival, Artemis, the moon, lithe limbs under the stars above, sweat and flesh.
As previously mentioned, field work accentuates the strength of the female body; milk maids loll with skirts a-billowing. Jena-Luc Godard’s La Chinoise is partly about the revolutionary aspect of direct experience. Veronique is considering throwing bombs, but to appreciate the universe directly is also to let in dirt and the wholesome smells of flesh and blood, animal and human, food and sex.
The hygiene-merchants are living in a world of weakness where the physical sense of living with looseness, style and psychic content is crushed and direct experience left to the goats and donkeys of the Earth. Whether “right” wing Trump, “leftist” or “moderate” Bloomberg, their paltry speeches are the other side of the world from dreams of western glory that are rightly ours.