pine trees

I climbed part of a canyon. I just saw it and made it a goal to climb it.

I got up early enough to watch the sun rise over the hills that were full of empty spaces with sparse pine trees. I never realize how much I truly miss the idea of empty space until I am surrounded by it.

We couldn't find a trail so three of us climbed up a 45 degree incline for an hour to get to the top. It was awesome, A) because it was completely silent, and B)I realized that if you make a goal to do something, you just have to do it. Climbing that high at that steep of angle with no path was really, really intense at 7am but totally worth it.


Since my posts have been kinda verbose and culturally intense, here are some beautiful pictures. Hiking this was infinetly better than the usual cup of coffee.

and the other side of the ridge/canyon

Hey now.

Recently while in the car a song by Easy-E came on a mix.
It was blatantly disgusting, demeaning, derogatory and objectifying towards women.
Obviously I had a problem with this. I do not understand how people do not have a problem with this.

And I've started to wonder why misogyny is prevalent in rap. And, the music industry as a whole. Because, lets face it, every genre, especially country, rap and rock seeps objectification. Not all, but an argument can definitely be made for each popularized genere.

So, instead of getting angry at the music itself, I had to ask why.

What form of masculinity is being proven by these lyrics and clear disregard and disrespect for women? Why do men feel the need to overtly sexualize women continually?

I focused my research on rap music, specifically, gansta rap. After reading a slew of scholarly articles, I've decided that those in marginalized social positions have to assert their dominance to align themselves with the prevalent social power (white males). Since women are below men in the power hierarchy, asserting and reaffirming the objectification strengthens the gender hierarchy futher. In westernized countries, especially America Men of minority have more prevalent power than women. Historically, black males had the right to vote, the right to property and other legal rights, all before women of any race.
Still, this doesn't made it ok, or right.

The 3oh!3 song has underlying themes about rape and submission to the dominant male force. In the end, I guess, the fact that 14 year old boys hear this song on the radio and don't realize the underlying ideas behind it makes me incredibly angry. The fact that its even on the radio disgusts me altogether. So, objectification of women in musical content?

Completely repulsive. There's no way around it. There's no way to hide it or make it morally sound. I know that a) a white women and b)a staunch feminist I have a biased perspective. I just don't think I should have to be ok with the fact that representations of women are out there & they're completely degrading to my gender.

And now, some Bikini Kill.

Eco.

"The novel's literal level almost sports the pacing of a thriller as Yambo pieces his past together, and on a more metaphysical level, it addresses provocative and never outdated or irrelevant questions about the integrity of one's identity and the irresistible attempt to estimate, while still a part of the community of the living, one's lasting imprint on the global slate." (Brad Hopper, Review Booklist)


I just completed 100 years of solitude. I rarely ever finish a book, I mean, really read and savor every word, but the rhetoric flowed like poetry. But, the book itself is so incredibly beautiful. After completion, I wondered how I would ever be able to read a book that beautiful again. I honestly haven't read something that well done since Les Miserables. Sometimes, I wish I could re-read a book and experience it for the first time again, to experience the world, ideas, characters and rhetoric/syntax all over again. To see a beautiful work of art unfold right before my eyes and in my head. Human creativity is so wonderful. And. I wonder if we become less aware of the beauty around us because we become so accustomed to it. We see beautiful things everyday if we can just look for them.

Realizing this, I didn't want to read another book for a while. I wanted to let the words sit and I wanted the ideas to savor, that is, until I picked up The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana. I'm fascinated with the ideas of 'the modern' the 'postmodern' and the (arguably) post-postmodern cultural representations of art/literature.This book incorporates fragmented structure, images to words/description and is divided into parts with chapters inside. The whole is completed by small parts in non-sequential order. Oh, postmodern, how I love you!

And, I have to wonder what a book will be in the next 50 years.
I think people forget that humans, on a wide scale, have only have the ability to be literate since the invention of the printing press, a mere 500-600 years. The written word is relatively new on a global scale. Words were spoken, not written. They were sounds people made to convey their thoughts, ideas and feelings. Language wasn't something someone saw, it was something someone heard. Unless you were part of the clergy or arististocracy... So with this shift in the written word in relation to the invention of technology and its exponential growth rate, what will a book become? It is obvious that pages in a novel are changing with the use of the internet and mutlimedia.
Art and literature is a reflection of society, of culture, of values. I often wonder how the structure, form, and ideas in a novel will evolve as technology and our dependence on it increases. And I'm not talking some extremist bull where books are on screens that are files, I just wonder how authors and artists will push to be original given that most things in a book have already been done. And how technology will be an outlet for the avant-garde.

A-w-k-w-a-r-d.

It's simple, either you're an awkward person or you're not. It's clean, linear and without any shades of grey.

I am an awkward person.


Scenario 1:

I'm clocking off work. My boss, the man who owns the company and signs my paychecks is sitting with the captain, the man who tells me what needs to get done. They are talking, in a way that two working-men would. There's cussing involved, utterances of engines and fixing mechanical problems while sipping on beer (don't ask). I don't know what to say but I know its rude to just leave without saying goodnight. I mean, this guy does fund my rent and food.

As I'm walking away I say, "Don't stay too late and don't come to early."
I realize my mistake.
The heavy sexual undertones.
My cheeks turn bright red.
There's an awkward pause.
I don't stop.
I walk and walk and walk.

An un-awkward person wouldn't do that.

Scenario 2
As people are boarding the boat in Canada, a man, whom has already boarded and sat down, comes up to my co-worker and I on the dock.
"Excuse me..."
"...yeh." (I'm tired)
"The flag on the back of the boat is all tangled. You should probably show some respect and untangle the flag. I think it needs to be done. It doesn't look right."

"mm hmm"
"Can you do that...now? I don't like looking at it like this. It's disrespectful"
Note:
I love America.
I love the fact that I can overindulge in toothpaste choices at Fred Meyer and buy a hotdog for a 1.50 at Costco.
I love the fact that someday, I can pay someone to move all my materialistic shit I will inevitably consume in my lifetime and put it in neat little boxes.
These things are wonderful. I. Love. America.

however, I don't give a flying fuck about the wind tangling up a flag off the back of the boat. No matter what I do, the wind is going to blow and tangle the flag. I cannot stop the wind. Only the God that our one nation is under can untangle it.

My co-worker sees my obvious reaction and fixes it herself.
When she comes back I mutter, "Sorry Sir, your America penis isn't erect anymore because your fucking Viagra isn't working. Maybe he should worry about untangling that mess in his pants..."
We pause.
I'm pretty sure he heard me.
The rest of the night he couldn't look me in the eye.

Yes, I am an asshole. and yes, I do love America.
And, most importantly, Yes, you might have guess correctly, sometimes I am awkward and wildly inappropriate.

Hip. Well, maybe foo'

I was listening to French Kicks "One Time Bells" and became incredibly nostalgic. This disc was perma-in my walkmen & defined a large part of my adolescence. While time progresses and people do as well, music stays stationary, the sounds are the same, the lyrics never change...etc. etc. I find it always it a good measure for introspection. Seems fairly obvious.

Not to mention the cover is a motha-fuckin-owl smoking a cig. Ingenious.


I then realized that the song "Hospital Beds" by Cold War Kids (and/or arguably most of Robbers & Cowards album) is very similar in the style to "One Time Bells" This idea should be noted, because I am perpetually stuck in everything indie 90's. Getting out of the lo-fi, feminist, singer-song writer, Sonic Youth inspired noise-rock is good. Oh shit, I can feel the hipness tingling in my fingers. make it stop!

--------
I am also in love with negative space as an aesthetic.
http://potatohavetoes.com/pages/artwork20.html

http://www.zacharyrossman.com/

I would cover my walls (only sparingly) with art that looked this minimal. you don't need to create complexity to make art 'good'

example:
http://www.azstar78.com/gallery.cfm?idFilter=9&yearFilter=2008
Mixed media anyone?

I really like the zine he completed. It's simple, cartoon-esque but contains a lot of great meaning.
http://www.azstar78.com/gallery.cfm?idFilter=17&yearFilter=2006

The face lift.

Promised story

A retirement community road the boat to Victoria. I learned the following a) Older people don't tip b) they are incredibly demanding c) they want things exactly when they ask for them d) they decorate their walkers as a means of self expression. I do not understand letter d in the slightest.

what made my day complete was my interaction with 'the dudette' a female version of 'the dude.' Her physical description is as follows:
An art garfunkel-esque haircut, paisley pants that were two inches too short, a pair of birkenstocks complete with black socks & glasses half the size of her face, a carbon copy of the kind Steve Eurkel wore, complete with the flip-up sunglass attachment.
Everything that she said ended in the response, "that's so cool", "yeah dude" or "whateva"
At least she didn't complain said stolen carpet.

At the end of the night with Fairhaven in sight, the dock in my field-of-view, (the safe haven that I am almost home) the Dudette goes up, past the 'crew only' sign. She grabs the the microphone and says, "I just want everyone to know how wonderful this was. Let's give the crew and captain a 'hip-hip-hoorah!"
Silence.
I can feel the air tense, an awkward mood spreads until 80 retired men and women chant.
"Hip!"
"Hip!"
...
HOORAH!

I instantaneously begin laughing. Picture decorated walkers, an impatient line of wrinkle-filled old people lining the door, mouths simultaneously moving while the entire 100 foot boat is filled with a deep chorus of "hip-hip-hoooooorah!"

By God, the dudette might of just made my night.

Then comes the Wrinkles.

Mix 80 senior citizens, a six hour boat ride and a female version of 'the dude' & you get my day.
Hilarious stories will ensue. Hilarity that will hopefully be carried out via narrative sometime soon. you know, inbetween the 14 hr days and Dramamine.

Note: taking large doses of Dramamine is equivalent to feeling like a glazed. Not blazed. Just glazed. Glossy. Looking through a foggy window.