Although some say that Mark Zuckerberg,, with his lizard-like features and robotically generated emotions, might not have a consciousness at all, his social-media-giant Facebook simulates that very thing perfectly. The same goes for Instagram, which was bought by Facebook in 2012. By having riverlike feeds from picture to picture, post to post, and therefore from subject to subject, they present their information in somewhat of a Joycean stream. Instead of the absence of chapters, a constant, infinite input; instead of eclipses, white bars dividing the first and the next post, and instead of the all-over-the-placeness of thought, a randomized collection of birthday parties, holidays, articles, advertisements and memes, or in Joyce´s words: “There is not past, no future; everything flows in an eternal present.” Despite the fact that Facebook and Instagram are easily finished within the ten minutes you are waiting for the bus, – whereas, for instance, Ulysses takes a full 800 pages -, both platforms carry aspects, and are in ways equal to, the stream of consciousness novel. Continue reading “Memes of Consciousness”
“Dance above the surface of the world. Let your thoughts lift you into creativity that is not hampered by opinion.”
— Red Haircrow
Beginnings are always the hardest. Sitting at your computer, chasing that perfect opening line across your mindscape, searching, constantly searching. In what lair is it hidden? In what vault is it kept? In what forge is it created? And where are these places located? The mind is a strange realm, indeed; there’s so much uncharted territory that has yet to be discovered. Continue reading “The Writer’s High”
As if he has returned from a years-long quest, the medieval knight seems to be back. Yet he is no longer wearing a heavy armor set, carrying a throat-slitting sword, nor arriving on some biologically perfect stallion: he has humbly traded his signature gear for a Thrasher sweater, a pair of artificially ripped jeans and an eye-catching BMW. His Lady, the pinnacle of his private world, the absolute test of his chivalry, has become the owner of an 11-million-followers Instagram account, spending a dollar per like on plastic surgery. Where ever one looks someone with a perfect life is present. The rich and famous have returned to being an idealized version of themselves, so we, the commoners, aspire to be them even more. Celebrities have become knights, and in romances of secret affairs, public rivalry, and battles with drugs, depression and alcohol, they spread their names across the globe.
Dear reader, sometime last year I first read about the Situationists. I thought their theories were super interesting, I would like to share my enthusiasm for those theories with you, and I sincerely hope that they will provide food for thought and crank your brain as they continue to crank mine.
“If us students have learned anything it’s that if you don’t study you will fail. And if in this case you actively do nothing, people continually end up dead. So, it’s time to start doing something.”
Armed with hammer, screwdriver, and inexhaustible optimism, Pat and Mat have been taking on the world for over 40 years. In those years their world changed drastically; born during the dark days of communist Czechoslovakia, they witnessed the Velvet Revolution, watched the Iron curtain fall, and saw their country being split into two. Yet nothing could deter the two Czechoslovak handymen from spending their days DIY-ing around their house like they did in the communist years. How did these two men steal the hearts of both the communist Czechoslovak and neoliberal capitalist viewer? Continue reading “A Je To! Or Doing and Subverting Communism with Pat and Mat”
In 2012, review aggregator website The Omnivore launched the Hatchet Job of the Year award, given to the “the writer of the angriest, funniest, most trenchant book review” of the last year in Britain. The prize was a year’s worth of potted shrimp donated by The Fish Society. By now defunct, the award was only given out 3 years. DJ Taylor, in a recent column for the New Statesman, asked a question relevant to its death: “Book reviewing used to be a blood sport. How has it become so benign and polite?” It seems, he concluded, that the “hatchet job” simply has little place in the modern literary milieu. Continue reading “The Disappearance of the Hatchet Job”