Get down on your fucking knees! The claim that the world is changing incredibly fast. What is the speed a bullet has? You won’t feel it once it hits your head. World of agony is too much to take. Don’t speak it out just hear the bang. That is what we do not tolerate truth about ourselves. Our deeds, our need to enslave, to humiliate, things we do not take if they are not for granted. Preserving prejudice and privilege as something innocent playing as contrast to our cruelty as a value to sell and be covered by. It is the truth we should like but we kill it, because it is not enough. We don’t get ahead fast enough honestly. It even sounds too little, too bold to be alive. The one who speaks the truth and is not believed because it is too much to take.
Get down on your fucking knees! This command is about power used, power liked and loved, power of ruining innocence of someone, ruining possibilities of someone for a life. This gun is an accusation and it is pointed at you. It is my emotional response for you questioning me, for you to obey me. It is my belief my religion my faith and reassuring my righteousness. Me holding my truth, my path in my hand: Get down on your fucking knees! Now! Bow your head, feel my weapon on you, how cold it is against your skin, against your fear, against your life. Where are you when you are there afraid, in the dirt, below me breathing. Me above you looking at you with anger, looking at you like you were nothing, not even a human. Me with possibility and desire of pulling the trigger, click. It takes one click.
Pop princess under media microscope: how have we learned to know her? How have we learned to see her? Her famous school girl uniform, she was not a pop star but a phenomenon, without that uniform she would have been vulnerable. They are all to get her story, all those headlines published, that she is a lousy mother. Look at her, she is fat.
Is she an appropriate role model? Whether she is a virgin or not, when she sexed it up. When she cried a river, when that tide was turning she drew a line in the sand when quickly got married in Vegas, that she was just silly. Marriage was an act of rebellion in her young mind. That she believes in karma. That she was couple months pregnant and she is very happy now. She is an emotional wreck right now, but none of that is true. She is poisonous only to those who hurt her. Let’s talk about her married life, another baby on the way. Is it yours? No problem of turning her life a reality show.
Puppies or kittens? Flats or heels? On or off? Stories to sell pop princess years, hormones make her laugh hysterically and cry the next minute. His heart is awesome, she tells. He has a really big heart, she says. Do you like British men? I want you to be completely honest. We are here to connect. Baby is your creation, are you pregnant again? You just gave birth. Are you a good mom? You are single at the moment? What is a perfect guy in your mind? Are you dating right now?
I take credit for setting the world on fire. Like Everest, do you think it is charging, do you think it is changing? Greatest individual who ever did say thank you for the flames and went ahead. Saw something ahead worthwhile to walk to, to crawl to, to want as a human. We are this want, we are want and as much as we want. Striking hitting setting stepping; to do against would be the most influencing aggression. Not to say anything, give a mental mugging and still getting up, wanting still something is happening out of mental disrupt urge, like untrue, like a dream. Scariest negative impulse to make nervous sweat. To radically push and show a point of view, state of mind state of body make fall let fall happen as far as it goes, make falling look like a normal happening resulting understanding. Is there someone to catch you? Don’t! I catch myself. Something to hit ferociously. I am there, it sounds as self-loath, self-pity and hate, is put in one, is against me. To take risks of losing life and not be caught, not be found, to be hated. Contradictions of living in hype in positive, trying to be good, telling me to be good, telling how to be good, hard to reach, a noble beauty like Everest.
The most interesting thing is how Fine art especially accepts trends without any criticism and schools and universities teach these newly created doctrines like the word of God. Fine art thrives with trends like fashion does and doesn’t think or know any better, which makes one think how legitimate their teachings and clicks are. How effective in changing societies more just Fine art is, one can and should doubt. Making those luxury goods, are we now? Social justice is also a sellable object. You are on the right side, the side of the oppressed and that is what media loves to be too. Many artists face this reality as they are forced to think and say the right thing and if they don’t, they are silenced, removed from sight and their reputation is smeared. How just and wise that is, one must and should ask, especially the institutions that wash themselves clean with social justice. You are doing advertising, not social justice.
AFTER DORIAN LYNSKEY, HISTORY OF PROTEST SONGS, 33 REVOLUTIONS PER MINUTE 2010.
”Oh, I ain’t a Communist necessarily, but I’ve been in the red all my life.”
” Work and pray, live on hay/ You’ll get pie in the sky when you die” The Preacher and The Slave, 1911 The Red Song Book 1932 The Socialist Rebel Song Book 1934 Negro Songs of Protest 1936
Political message put into the arena of entertainment, books I can imagine in my hand, small, worn out with yellowish smelly pages, the ongoing rebellion, ongoing inspiration of coal miners, their wives, copper miners, their wives, textile workers, their husbands, inspired by Woody Guthrie, This Land Is your Land, 1944. ”I am out to sing songs that will prove to you that this is your world..that make you take pride in yourself and your work” Woody Guthrie’s mission statement which he read on the radio 1944 in his weekly show on New York’s WNEW.
This is a kind of Poem, this is a kind of scribbles, I end up seeing the same thing, a pattern, but I cannot put my finger on it
Failed to quicken the pulse, Ella May Wiggins who was shot dead during the Gastonia textile strike 1929, hero of the left. Message belonged to whoever stuck a flag on it. And increasingly the flag was red. Leftist intellectuals were in love, most of all, with the idea of a common man. Sometimes he drank, he fought, even shot his woman down. There was nothing ennobling about it. Music of rumors, dreams, ghost stories and whispers in the night.
Dust can’t kill me, beneath the cover of bad grammar, misspellings, Okie vernacular, which would come in handy in darker times.
It had not rained in four years bitter but exhilarating like biting into a lemon. To know about Confucius, did he know more about hypocrisy than he did about nature of American society.
Something fishy for robbing her off her lightness mixed with serrated glass day and night it was when she discovered heroin in 1940s, and commenced slow dying, scourging hypocrisy
from sea to ocean from sea to shining sea aw-shucks, ionization of a affectionately common man.
Full of bad luck and violent ends. Violent beginnings, startling start, I took these words from this book I found added them here next to my words. I gave words back to you. You do what you can with them.
What has happened before, what happens now to a worker? Is he/she called a worker anymore, the proletarian, or is it employee, staff, laborer. We have short history of couple of industrial revolutions during which many other kinds of revolutions have taken place. Couple of which have been Feminist. Suffrage movement, sexual revolution, inventions of contraception, women’s right to study, abortion, divorce, go to work and have a career. Women’s rights to their bodies are still under questioning, which makes me wonder why. Why female body is the main object of terror and a possession of man? We are still fighting for human rights to happen on many levels. But all in all, women’s rights have taken big steps forwards globally during couple of decades, lots is still to be done. It astonishes me how heavy the battle is.
To name a prostitute in a way that she shall be most marketable and a product of fantasy giving the most pleasurable experience for money. It is an interesting way to create roleplay and turn something quite everyday into luxurious and desirable again and again, a sellable object which we in everyday seem to become more and more. To buy sex is the most notorious thing or almost, still very out of the ordinary for many to think of doing, a kind of last option when options are few or non-existent. We need to come, have an orgasm to function, to be creative and relaxed, a kind of newly born and revitalized, reborn and unloaded to be reloaded. For many sex is a need like eating. It is in us built in to be sexual and the magnitude it rules us is obviously too much to take and everywhere, so how much sex is harmful? And to who? The amount of how much sex is in our minds and in front of us is massive, how much it is talked about and constantly somehow remade like a body is cut to look attractive for sexual purposes. It is to release oneself out of the boundaries set, not to have any, but we do need to have boundaries, because without limits we are lost pretty quickly. Stepping out of the lawful and respectable to be fun-loving and youthful constantly is the fantasy. The same is real for the one who sells sex, it stops being anything other than a job? Although one has done the work of releasing oneself of ties of decency or is in the situation of no other option than to sell sex or other work is just dull. The lack of options and freedoms is what is the worrying issue. Are we being forced as it seems and we are basically valued for our looks as long as it lasts?
What is wanted of a sex worker is the service which is dangerous and hazardous, exciting and against the rules of proper behaviour and very addictive plus a life short-lived too often. It is to let all inhibitions go and become the animal and be used. Use humans for sexual pleasure only one can say asking who is the animal. Putting all out there, all being the body, what it can do and give, how far can and will you go. A warm body, touching it, a body touching another, the act and play of it, to be penetrated, which can be one idea to own someone for a moment and reasons there are few, survival being the biggest to buy and sell sex. For some sex equals living to the fullest. Then there are more ruthless ideas why. Body is the fantasy and object to use and abuse, which is not unhuman but very human behaviour. What does body represent is sex and value or worthlessness comes with it. We are sex and what these concepts sex and body do for us on mental and material levels, sex and sexuality seem to be the most interesting topics today, equalling freedom of choice, unity or separation. One can wonder is it really that interesting as identity, sexuality. Sex is an enormous taboo which taboo creates restrictions, crimes and forbidden fantasies. It is the we can’t, we must not, we should not sometimes even think about it, it’s dirty as it is. For many sex or any reference to sex is ugly and humiliating. It is pushed away as something filthy and dirty and therefore fun, which thought feeds the fantasies. Today I see less and less beauty there though. But firstly sex is to make babies and have a family, not harmless fun, which culture today promotes and celebrates: abuse it as much as you can.
When we can’t in the bedroom, we can’t much anywhere else? Women’s value fades when they lose sexual desirability, interestingly and showing naked body should always be paid for and earn with it. So what is nudity in art then? Just another turn on?
Power of sex is enormous and it is everywhere creating interest, addiction and focus. It can be called pornofication of the mind. To me it seems it is finding all possible ways to express the basic need we have and what we truly want and want to see, see inside and discard, all is on the surface, we don’t want to know you, you are your body. Strangely denial makes us yearn for the forbidden. When lots of things stay forbidden for their corruptive effect and sexuality being the biggest demon out there, we go looking for the forbidden partly because it feels freeing and fun. We are in search for the fun in an instant. Fun being banned for it is against God and against society which somehow makes strange scenes, but what is God? We become prohibited, afraid, anal, you know when you have fingers and head up your arse. Afraid of doing wrong, afraid of doing against the authority, afraid of yourself, afraid to live, afraid of who you are, afraid to go search for who you are, afraid to speak out and against the oppressors, afraid of nudity, afraid of something very normal corrupting us, afraid of sex and afraid of truth. Sex is truth? Gender is not. To think sex corrupts our minds is therefore a corrupt thought? Fear is corruptive, addiction and compulsion corrupt. Fear of breaking something which must be broken. Fear of sex is to be afraid of who we are?
Majakollektiivi Timanttimetsä 