I'm coming around to the argument around the book Fuckhead by David Rawson. The depiction of the unwell or neurodiversies, aspies, autists and schizos etc are in popular culture pretty vapid.
Rainman for example - the character has no substantive lived dimension, desires or connective sexuality. He's a toy for the viewer or as critics have said surround Rawson's work - representations that are flat and to themselves in some cognitive deficit.
Ooh that's harsh. I wouldn't want to be around whose a militant in disabled rights unless if I needed them in some positive way.
Artists who take in the cache of being mad, if they're clinically insane or tinged with clinically termed schizotypy or just performing and hamming it up are doing a disservice to the neurotype or neurodiverse community
I know - these words are a little *clinical* and hey I'm reworking these words but we all know what "fuckhead" sounds like!
If an artist appropriates madness in their persona - they really should politicise it, or contribute to social awareness about it, or work at the coalface with the science, art and a pedagogy for the oppressed - to put it into words some of my academic peers would get or really incorporate it into their work (Dali, Nijinski, Artaud, Monk etc) with the romance of poetic intoxication or its abrasive forebear the mead of poetry Suttangr drunk by Viking scholar-poets "skalds" the old icelandic and English joining and we hear stories of Viking men in the same clan when they had a serious disagreement it weren't fighting, or even tempramental raised voices - it was the "kenning" - the warriors would arise at dawn and hurl insults at each other but these were poets, scholars, mythmakers and the insults I imagine in community would've been amazing.
That's how rap battles in hip hop were based.
[Instead of polysemy the viking had a term "heiti" for similar ambiguity [my word "mistridden" is like that miswritten, misread, mistreated, misridden like mis-riding a horse perhaps - a Sydney high school English saw that word in a poem of mine years ago and she went something like - omg.........]
If you're just a fancy pants, moddish artist claiming contemporary tropes like vintage style or Vote for Pedro cache or whatever and you're lining your pockets with your great lifestyle then I wish you success in your world.
Nothing wrong with individualism. Yet if a critic pans you I hope to your dear faculties you can respond and smooth out these challenges.
I'm personally going the other way. Some attention to the issue and my pedagogy is bound with artistry and reclaiming so economy so we fellow artists who haven't made it can see you perform to the sparkling light fantastic.
There's probably a few threads here can be drawn with something like Le Dernier Spectateur haute-European enculturation. It's not like that in Sydders and I should know because I aint seen my family in Montreuil in Paris for decades.
I take a green politics with radical left elements and it's green because it's a biometric conscious culture here, indigeneity, territoire, terrapolitics, settlers, legal vexations and in today's terms which gives the force of immanence and quiddity, of my radicality but there's the interstitium of the noosphere and canonical interface.
"...I went to my balcony and picked up a small flowerpot and when the man appeared out of the doorway below I let my war machine fall straight down on the back edge of his pack, the shock knocked him backwards and he ended up breaking under his own back the whole of his pathetic ambulatory fortune, with all the magnificent noise of a crystal palace shattered by lightning.
And drunk with my madness, I cried out to him furiously "Make life beautiful! Make life beautiful!
Crazy jokes like this are not without their peril and often one has to pay dearly for them. But what does an eternity of damnation matter to someone who has discovered an infinity of joy within a single second." - CB (1868) Paris Spleen extract "The Bad Glazier"
..drunk with my madness...what a stratified dynamism for me as arts health transcultural qualitative writer. the rest sounds familiar enough.
Poste
Rainman for example - the character has no substantive lived dimension, desires or connective sexuality. He's a toy for the viewer or as critics have said surround Rawson's work - representations that are flat and to themselves in some cognitive deficit.
Ooh that's harsh. I wouldn't want to be around whose a militant in disabled rights unless if I needed them in some positive way.
Artists who take in the cache of being mad, if they're clinically insane or tinged with clinically termed schizotypy or just performing and hamming it up are doing a disservice to the neurotype or neurodiverse community
I know - these words are a little *clinical* and hey I'm reworking these words but we all know what "fuckhead" sounds like!
If an artist appropriates madness in their persona - they really should politicise it, or contribute to social awareness about it, or work at the coalface with the science, art and a pedagogy for the oppressed - to put it into words some of my academic peers would get or really incorporate it into their work (Dali, Nijinski, Artaud, Monk etc) with the romance of poetic intoxication or its abrasive forebear the mead of poetry Suttangr drunk by Viking scholar-poets "skalds" the old icelandic and English joining and we hear stories of Viking men in the same clan when they had a serious disagreement it weren't fighting, or even tempramental raised voices - it was the "kenning" - the warriors would arise at dawn and hurl insults at each other but these were poets, scholars, mythmakers and the insults I imagine in community would've been amazing.
That's how rap battles in hip hop were based.
[Instead of polysemy the viking had a term "heiti" for similar ambiguity [my word "mistridden" is like that miswritten, misread, mistreated, misridden like mis-riding a horse perhaps - a Sydney high school English saw that word in a poem of mine years ago and she went something like - omg.........]
If you're just a fancy pants, moddish artist claiming contemporary tropes like vintage style or Vote for Pedro cache or whatever and you're lining your pockets with your great lifestyle then I wish you success in your world.
Nothing wrong with individualism. Yet if a critic pans you I hope to your dear faculties you can respond and smooth out these challenges.
I'm personally going the other way. Some attention to the issue and my pedagogy is bound with artistry and reclaiming so economy so we fellow artists who haven't made it can see you perform to the sparkling light fantastic.
There's probably a few threads here can be drawn with something like Le Dernier Spectateur haute-European enculturation. It's not like that in Sydders and I should know because I aint seen my family in Montreuil in Paris for decades.
I take a green politics with radical left elements and it's green because it's a biometric conscious culture here, indigeneity, territoire, terrapolitics, settlers, legal vexations and in today's terms which gives the force of immanence and quiddity, of my radicality but there's the interstitium of the noosphere and canonical interface.
"...I went to my balcony and picked up a small flowerpot and when the man appeared out of the doorway below I let my war machine fall straight down on the back edge of his pack, the shock knocked him backwards and he ended up breaking under his own back the whole of his pathetic ambulatory fortune, with all the magnificent noise of a crystal palace shattered by lightning.
And drunk with my madness, I cried out to him furiously "Make life beautiful! Make life beautiful!
Crazy jokes like this are not without their peril and often one has to pay dearly for them. But what does an eternity of damnation matter to someone who has discovered an infinity of joy within a single second." - CB (1868) Paris Spleen extract "The Bad Glazier"
..drunk with my madness...what a stratified dynamism for me as arts health transcultural qualitative writer. the rest sounds familiar enough.
Poste
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