31 July 2009

Pizza in Auschwitz

A man who was imprisoned in several concentration camps re-visits Poland with his kids. A film maker, Moshe Zimmerman, has made a 50-minute documentary about their roadtrip. It turns out that each family member reacts to what she sees very differently, not to say radically differently. The father who was there insists that there is no place for grief or tears. The kids were brought up with stories that have haunted them all their life. This difference in perspective is taken up to violent discussion.
It's one of the best documentaries I've seen in a while. Many scenes made me laugh really hard - or did I cry? This is not the sombre moments of remembrance. This is fifty minutes or so of shouting, irreverent jokes (the family has breakfast: the waiter asks if they want their water 'with or without gas' - burst of laughter), reconciliation, brutal humor. I don't know what to say that would describe this film. In one scene, Danny Chanoch and his grown-up kids enter an office in the Auschwitz camp. Chanoch has decided he wants to spend the night in one of the barracks. A bureaucrat at a desk tells him that there are problems. Chanoch looses it totally, shouting his rights as an ex-prisonor. The bureucrat breaks into tears and calls a colleague. It's horrible to say that this scene was funny, but it truly was, and terribly sad at the same time. Pizza in Auschwitz is packed with scenes like this; grief, bitterness and conflicts, along with ruthless humor. And everything is so complex that it is really hard to make out what one feels when watching it.
It's one hell of a brutal and naked portrait. No solemnity, no self-flattery.
I hope this film will be broadcasted again soon, more people deserve to see it.

28 July 2009

De där satans "dämonerna".

Utmärkt artikel i DN av Maria Sveland och Katarina Wennstam som tar upp Lars von Trier och Antichrist. De gör många bra poänger om ett kvinnohat och -förakt som finns som ett slags fundament i konsten som vi är så vana vid att vi knappt lägger märke till det:

"Är vi så vana vid kvinnor som straffas, skymfas, dödas, våldtas att vi inte längre ser hur genomsyrad filmen och teatern är av bilden av kvinnan som offer?"

Bra fråga. Mycket bra fråga.

ps: on a less serious note: Bergman pratar om dämonerna. (Wennstam & Sveland pratar alltså om hur den dämonansatte konstnären rättfärdigar i princip vad som helst.)

budgethälsa.

Är det bara jag som tycker att den här bildtexten (från dagens DN) är rolig (och lite grym) på minst tre sätt:
"Gert-Inge Andersson i Trollhättan hör till de kommunalråd som låter ekonomin gå back." Bild: G-I ser ledsen ut / G-I ser ångerköpt men lite lömsk ut / G-I ansätts av demoner / G-I tittar ut genom något fönsterliknande / det är blått, blått, blått.

Vad det handlar om: kommuners budgetunderskott och trotset mot balanskravet (den budget som en kommun gör upp måste ha överskott eller vara i balans). Varför just detta stackars kommunalråd pekas ut med bild och allt - det har jag ingen aning om. I en av artiklarna som ansluter sig till temat lär jag mig ett nytt begrepp: Haninge kommun sparar pengar genom "naturlig avgång" (= att folk går i pension och att inga nyanställningar görs?). Intressant. Citat: "För kommuninvånarna blir det lite sämre service, men det är oundvikligt, förklarar Gilbert de Wendel".
What's up with the NATURE TALK?
De kommuner som inte drar tillräckligt hårt med osthyveln och som inte fått balans i budgeten "mäktar helt enkelt inte med de kraftfulla åtgärder som skulle krävas" (enligt chefsekonom på SKL).

Jag är ingen haj på budgethälsa. Men det är ganska mycket angående hur ekonomi beskrivs som icke upphör att förbluffa mig.

27 July 2009

Matt Elliott: Drinking songs & Failing songs



Matt Elliott is most famous for the Third Eye Foundation project. Somehow, the electronic Matt Elliott never appealed to me. I found the sound way too slick, way too elegant (I should give it another go someday). But I like Flying saucer attack, his noise-folk band during the 90s.

The albums released under his own name - another affair altogether; bleak, soporific music inspired by Eastern Europe folk music or dangerously inebriated cabaret chanting. Shanties & dirges. The lyrics are not cheery, but they are good. "Face down & fucked again / Taste of blood again / know that you three / were the last thing I've seen" are the disquieting lines that make up the lyrics of the incredibly mournful opening track of Drinking songs, "C.F Bundy". There are narratives about gunmen, soldiers, workers and a sinking submarine. Occasionally, there our outbursts of political rage. "We're free to do exactly as we're told / we're free to buy what we've sold / we're nothing more than slaves my dear / but our chains are made of gold." ("Chains")
Matt Elliott uses a large embargo of instruments, which makes his songs tread another territory than the traditional gloomy singer-songwriter with his lonely, howling guitar. His songs have a rich, yet intimate, sound that really brings home an atmosphere that lasts through an album and even two albums.

OK, let's have a shot of vodka. Or make it twenty.

22 July 2009

make-over deluxe












considering a make-over. What do you think would be just the right style for me?

21 July 2009

projekt


Jag läser Ylva Hasselbergs fina artikel Wenell och projektideologin i Ord&Bild (3/2008). Sedan googlar jag fram den här bilden. Jag har inte läst Wenell. Wenell kisar in i kameran. Rutig skjorta. Svartvitt.

Så här börjar Hasselbergs artikel: "Arbete är och bör vara centralt i livet. Allt som inte är livsuppehållande aktiviteter (äta, snyta sig, sånt som inte kan göras av någon annan) kan vara arbete." Den här formuleringen fick mig nästan att ramla av stolen (håller jag på att förlora förståndet?): i ett visst perspektiv på arbete som blir mer och mer vanligt blir aktiviteter som att äta och snyta sig anomalier just eftersom de inte låter sig beskrivas som "potentiellt sett arbete". Hasselberg, som är ekonomihistoriker, skriver fint om idealiseringen av Förändring och Framsteg i projektvärlden:

"Projekt är till för att göra särskilda typer av arbete, arbete som syftar mot ett specifikt mål, som inte bara är att sköta den gamla vanliga ruljangsen. Andemeningen i Wenell om projekt är att sådant arbete är lite finare och mer intressant än annat arbete. Det syftar ju till förändring. Det livs- och organisationsuppehållande, reproducerande, är aldrig projekt. Diska disken får jag göra varje dag utan att det någonsin kan bli projekt av det. Projekten, det är de Stora Fältslagens värld. En värld av erövrare, atleter och stora män. Ingen disk, ingen barnpassning, ingen löneadministration."

Jag skriver under på allt detta (inte som en beskrivning av Wenell, det kan jag ingenting säga om, men som en beskrivning av något jag känner igen från olika håll). Hasselberg lyckas verkligen fånga en hel ideologi i den här formuleringen. Jag har läst lite projektmanagementlitteratur; lite populärt, lite mera ingenjörsorienterat. Militär- och idrottsliknelser är faktiskt väldigt, väldigt vanliga i de mera populära sammanhangen och det är viktigt att projektet beskrivs som det stora Äventyret, en massiv Maskin av a) örnögd management b) myror som arbetar (underleverantörer & sånt, gud vet varifrån dom kommer). (Det kliar i deleuzefingrarna)

Hasselberg kopplar - helt riktigt, förefaller det mig, ihop projektindustrin med kvartalskapitalismen. Projekten med sina deadlines ger mätbarhet och synlighet och saker som kan avslutas om molnen anhopar sig på himlen. Målstyrning och uppföljning/utvärdering är projektets A och O. Det finns fantastiska sätt att kvantifiera detta och bryta ner arbetsmomenten på sätt som, liksom Hasselberg också påpekar, för tankarna till taylorismens glansdagar. Det är inte bara arbetsfördeling och tid som ska kvantifieras, det gäller också för risker. (Vad som kan läggas till Hasselbergs beskrivning är att en av de största slitningar inom ramen för projektmanagementtänk är den mellan hårda ingenjörskvantifieringar och de som talar för "projektens sociala dimension" - som då kan manageras på sitt eget vis.) Hasselbergs oro är befogad: finns det en kollektiv mätpsykos som underminerar tänkande kring vad som verkligen är meningsfullt?

Weil: lectures on philosophy

At present, I skim through Lectures on Philosophy, by Simone Weil. The book consists of the lectures Weil held as a lycée teacher in 1933-4. It is one of Weil's students that arduously transcribed them. These are, however, really good texts on many subjects of philosophy and somehow I feel I get a better grasp of some of Weil's thoughts. But I must confess that it is really hard to believe that Weil actually addressed seventeen year old kids. "The state is the worst of all evils." "All human progress consists in changing constraint into an obstacle." "So the whole of morals is to be found potentially in mathematics; one has to overcome one's tendency to allow oneself to depend on chance, which is the sin of sins, the sin against the Spirit. And there, in mathematics, one is not helped by anything." I wonder what I would have thought - if anything at all - about this at the age of 17. The book is excellent, but I doubt that Peter Winch, who wrote the introduction, is right when he says that it could be used as an introdoction book on philosophy alongside "that valuable old war-horse", Bertie Russell.

20 July 2009

attention

A friend talked about an acqaintance of ours: "well, she is sensitive to the reactions of others. She is perhaps too sensitive in the sense that she knows all too well how others will respond." I wanted to object somehow, but couldn't find words to articulate what was on my mind. So, we talked about a person who takes pleasure in provoking others to react. (That is my description.) She is very clever. She has full control over the social situation that her provocation gives rise to. I tried to point out that this might be "sensitivity" in one sense but not in another. I would say that the provocateur's sensitivity is based on knowledge, whereas the other type is not.

I might be fully aware of the fact that you are mad at me for having said something. This doesn't necessarily mean that I take your being angry as anything else than a certain social fact. OK, so you are mad, that is the situation. "I better not mess with you right now." But this doesn't mean that I am moved by your reaction.

Social sensitivity sometimes means that I know how to tread carefully (or navigate the minefield, if that is the purpose), I know what is appropriate and what is not. We talk about "reading people" and I guess that is a quite good way of putting it. "I read you like an open book" - now, I might go ahead and stab you in the back for all that. (Isn't it always a bit creepy if a person is described as somebody who can "read" people? I come to think of a slick guy who interviews peope for jobs, scanning their potentially employable souls with a single glance)

The person who masterfully knows how to push your buttons knows how to get at you (your weak points, what makes you break off with social amiability). In that sense, she is sensitive to something. The movies Borat & Brüno (which I saw recently) depend completely upon this kind of sensitivity. I like S. Baron Cohen, I think what he is doing reveals some abhorrent reactions. But what kind of attention does he direct at the people he subjects to silly questions?

It is not the case that the provocateur possesses some neutral skill that is foundational for every form of attention. (My problem with "empathy", a concept that is often used in this way - or even worse, "emotional intelligence", I guess that concept is out of fashion - which is a blessing of sorts.)

But there is also another form of attention, or sensitivity. This has nothing to do with scanning the facts of the situation, reading signals or interpreting double meanings. The distinction I am interested in is a distinction between two senses of "beeing seen". "I felt she saw right through all of my bullshit". 1) You see through my bullshit - 1-0 to you - you are ready to attack my weak points. 2) You pay attention to what I mean, and, thus, you care about me enough to look beyond the bullshit that is on the surface. In case 2) "social facts" are things that are brushed aside but in case 1) what concerns you is above all to put me in a specific light, to make me appear as something. In the other case, you don't give a damn about what I appear to be. The person who intentionally attempts to elicit a particular response from another does not "see" or "pay attention" to a person in the second sense. But I still think that the concept of "attention" (and sensitivity, too) can be used in both ways (after all, it's not about defining concepts, rather - coming to grips with what a situation is about).

ps: n.b.: here's a website indexing trollish battle-thirsty behaviour...funny!

Ass: My get up and go just got up and went


While chewing on the rotten bones of a draft of a draft of a text, My get up and go just got up and went by Ass, Swedish folk artist, cheers me up. I really enjoy his music. I love this, and I loved Ass, his other album. It's a bit like John Fahey sometimes, but not really. What can I say. Uplifting, happy, melancholy. Subtle melodies & guitar fingerpicking that comes across very relaxed and unpretentious. Ass is the opposite of obtrusive. Ass walks its own path and you can tag along if you want to.

16 July 2009

A note from the Dark


The glorious town of Åbo smells like piss & shit & puke. Every second street is torn up. Building projects. You'd better tread carefully. If you don't watch out while being a little round under the foot you might end up falling into a half-built pipe. IT'S SUMMER, the season of idle merriment. It's hothothot and life is unforgivingly miserable, a ceaseless stupor. Whatthefuckmyheadisfallingoff. I get a cold, as I always do. "well, the weather is nice isn't it." Let's go to the little summer house and have a barbeque, a glass of wine, let's swim in the lake. I kill mosquitoes & cute little furry bunnies with my .44 Magnum. Life on the countryside is so peaceful, balsam for the soul. I head for the concrete jungle, water-hole for dreary souls. We dodge summery prattle: head for - the library. Cold&mouldy&friendlyquiet.

People are "nice" & leisurly and wear bright colors. I grow more & more sinister for every minute. Vacation? Yeah, loll on the beach / read Seiska / go watch "culture" in some hicky outdoors theater. Recharge the batteries, don't we all need it so? Life is so busy in the modern world and you gotta seize the moment to have some fun! Fun - sun - fume - desert. Loafer-wearing, shades-clad, icecream-eating FUCKERS. god damn strawberries (my mother asks: "how much are the strawberries" and something nasty breaks loose in me). On TV: Tangomarkkinat. DDR-produced Krimis with drab cars and drab houses and blood-thirsty dogs. Every character is called Heinz. Tom Hanks movies on eternal re-run. "Life is like a box of chocolat...." my ass. I know what's in there for sure & it ain't no good. Strömsö TV show Strömsö Talk show Strömsö News News from Strömsö self help advice from Dr Strömsö. Empathy, entrepreneurship, fun times in the garden, green fingers & rosy cheeks, folks, let's make a drink of pig's ears. BURN IN HELL. I am encouraged to read the latest novel by some guy called stig larsson, 'cause he's so great with depicting the Dark. I AM the dark and the season brings out all of it. The demons, the ants, the big gray hole, the frenzy, the haze of days passing by like clouds of dust. The nights are light and the mind is ablaze with racing thoughts, itching feet, sweat all over. A few hours' blissful sleep, beer, silence provide me with transient appeasement.

I summon rain & thunderstorms. I hide under the bed til' those leaves start rotting. Some day, the air will be crisp, the tourists will be gone and everything's gonna be alright.

The single most reasonable thing to do under these circumstances is to drink oneself into sweet oblivion. Over & out.

Sheriff - Sail, sail, sail away!


There is a hair metal band called Sheriff. There is also another Sheriff. I found out about the music of Sheriff on some obscure record label home page. I forgot about it and then it took me 3 years to actually get the album. I don't know whether there are CD copies of this, but it was possible to download it here. Sail, Sail, Sail Away! is extremely slow, very serene music. The lyrics (should I put it into brackets?), too, spoken, rather than sung, revolve around repetition: a single phrase is repeated until the words are filled with layers and layers of meaning. The album was recorded in 2005 by two Swedish guys. Instruments are used sparsely, but there are still an assortment of different sounds here; piano, guitar and some drums - and cymbals have a big role here (sometimes they sound like church bells tolling, on "Stay, stay"). Bowls are listed among the instruments, too. I like how the pace of the songs is so slow that you find yourself appeaced with the monotonous repetition of slow, slow strumming of the guitar or notes played gently on piano or percussion played in a surprisingly expressive way. A chord, a figure, a phrase. There's no build-up, no climax, no progress. It just goes on and on and on and it is very beautiful. This is one of the most contemplative albums I've heard in a long time.

- If you, dear reader, happen to know any music that in any way resembles this album, please tell me about it.

15 July 2009

Hur mycket mera sympatiska är inte akademiska skribenter som "broderar ut" sina resonemang i jämförelse med dem som "ger empirisk uppbackning" eller "stöder sig på teori x/y/z" (läser Johan Asplund). Jag lyssnar på Scott Walker: Tilt. Solen lyser. Jag drar för gardinerna. Det är för tidigt för cognac. Eller är det? Här ett exempel på Asplunds vältalighet:

[Asplund skriver om Gesellschaft och Gemeinschaft och kritiserar dem som i begreppet om Gemeinschaft ser en Blut-und-Bodentörstande konservatism]

"Mitt i vårt Gesellschaft kan man höra en gammal tankefigur tala genom de mondänaste människor. Om en misshaglig professorsfru framförs allmänt den ursäkten att hon trots allt emellanåt kör taxi i Stockholm. Ursäkten framförs rutinmässigt och alla förstår den - trots att den är gestellschaftsfrämmande. Den bottnar nämligen i en närmast omedveten respekt för en person som utövar ett yrke långt under sin status och värdighet och gör det inte endast för förtjänstens skull. Fru X må vara en satmara men högmodig är hon inte. Den apologin har en lång och obruten idéhistoria: professorsfrun som samlar poäng i Skärselden genom att köra taxi på kvällarna är en rent medeltida figur."

14 July 2009

bildjournalism

Stora rubriker i DN. "400.000 smittas av influensan i höst." Och följande "illustration":

When in a really bad mood, I look at this. To the left: SKP local politician from Sipoo-Sibbo. To the right: Power & Culture. Up: Strindberg.

Sjtjekn - Noon universe (and some comments on the magic of radio)


Noon Universe by Sjtjekn explores the concept of "Russia" (according to one/the only project member). The album is clearly inspired by the movie Stalker by Tarkovsky (if you haven't seen it you have to do it because it is, in my opinion, one of the greatest films ever made). I read about the Sjtjekn project before I heard the music. That might have been a bad thing, because I came equipped with a load of expectations as I started to listen and that might have limited my openness to what I've heard. I expected something like William Basinski's beautifully executed mash-up of found sounds, snippets of muzak, on Shortwave music. It really sounds like the Tarkovsky film (I haven't heard The River, an album that is said to be a "fuller" realization of what he tries to do here). The music is grainy and spectral, looped melodies (or something like it) appear somewhere in the background but in the forefront there is a swirl of sounds, crackle and hiss. You end up feeling tossed out in the landscape of Stalker; desolated, dreamy, alien.

There's something about shortwave radio that I find quite thrilling. The possibility to come across sounds the origin of which you have no idea (M talked about a similar (?) fascination with the use of radio in science-fiction, in Aliens, for example). I was immensly fascinated by The Conet Project, a 4-album odyssey of sound consisting of shortwave radio signals/codes. I listen to some tracks now and then and it always has an effect on me. Basinski used short wave radio sounds, too, on his album. The album was made in 1982 and first released in 1997. Even though Basinski has processed his found sounds the feeling of found sound has not disappeared. Shortwave music captures what Stalker conjured as well: the confrontation with the unknown, the unknown as something we cannot leave in peace. The Unknown: digging into ourselves. Sounds that drill their way into the consciousness of the listener (på svenska: ljud som molar, engelsk översättning?).

Sjtjekn is "at least" one member from Testbild!, beyond that, I know little about the project except what I've read here. Noon Universe is the sound of rain, machines, forgotten melodies, birds, water. Voices. After listening to it the first time, I had a vague feeling of disappointment. Maybe Sjtjeken is too fond of its concept (spoken parts from Solaris and Stalker are included)? Too eager to bring together the kind of nature-meets-rust aesthetic that Tarkovsky is a master of exploring? But now I am more positive. You just have to let go of some of the Tarkovsky images and listen to the music with an open mind. It's....pop! Tarvovsky pop twinkling with invention. In the Jet set junta interview, Petter Herbertsson says:

"Vissa passager på skivan är helt improviserade, medan andra är strikt komponerade. Alla melodier skrevs för att låta så ryska som möjligt, eller snarare min personliga version av ryska melodier. Jag frågade en emailkompis som heter Dimitry (som även hjälpte mig med de ryska titlarna på skivan) om han tyckte att musiken lät rysk, men den frågan svarade han aldrig på, och jag ville inte tjata."

13 July 2009

Canyon - Fever

I'm sitting at home. My ear-drum is wasted as usual and my writing efforts are increasingly futile. This day is no good and I knew it when I opened my eyes this morning (only to close them again). Waking up / falling asleep / waking up from nightmare # xxxx. I have to do something, I think to myself. But what? My head is spinning from the ear infection. I make coffee. I drink coffee. Clouds outside. Heaps of clouds. It's hot/cold/hot. Can't decide. I feel like shit. I skim through some passages of poorly written text. Goddammit. I push the DELETE button. I push the UNDO button. DELETE, UNDO, DELETE. More clouds. I text you to say I can't make it tonight. A nap. My room is too little to wander around there. Despite ear condition, I put on some music. NO NOT THIS ACID JAZZ SHIT. Turn it off. Change music. Canyon: Fever. Good pick. Spacious music. Feel like walking among mountains. Grand fucking canyon. My one ear digs the perpetually droning echoes of the guitar (reverb I've been told). My other ear creates some ambience of its own. To say that a piece of music is soothing may give you Alain de Botton ideas. Forget these. Canyon is soothing music. Canyon is actually a Danish guy, Mikkel Valentin Dunkerley. Other drone/folk/----core bands might do similar things, but somehow this album builds up a very distinct atmosphere - it creates a world of its own. If you like the spookiness of The Caretaker, the movie Last year in Marienbad and/or Gerry, try this!

12 July 2009

Antichrist (2009)

I was curious about what Lars von Trier has been up to lately so I went to watch his latest movie, The Antichrist. It surely has been accused of being misogynistic and now, having seen it, I must agree.

The story: a therapist and his academic partner looses their small child while immersed in sex. She is grieving; he is applying his therapist's skills to her grief. They travel to the woods because that is the place that she says she fears the most. He wants her to open up to the fear. Their place in the wood is no paradise. This is an unsettling place where nature itself seems to be evil. And she gradually becomes a part of this great, mysterious Evil.

Antichrist is not misogynistic in the Strindbergian sense. von Trier has put together a cinematic nightmare in which women are evil creatures who will submit to no Man's comforting attempts towards Understanding (or Therapy). I don't think this is very interesting (Strindberg, at least, is interesting even though he might have been a douchbag) because von Trier just plays around with these clischés (oh! mother/whore/witch/baaad mother! inner nature & nature-nature!), he doesn't do anything more than that. So NATURE is evil and NATURE is somehow .... Woman. "Nature is Satan's church". Female sexuality is "dangerous", a warped, evil force of nature... Bored now! I didn't find the movie any more appealing or thought-provoking from a technical point of view. And if this is to be the great battle against the dream/nightmare of Rationality, then, I don't get it. Some critics impressed by Antichrist have said that von Trier has successfully elaborated on his own Inferno and perhaps even a cultural Inferno. But I have difficulties in seeing how this movie really addresses any deep afflictions at all. We do tend NOT to be afflicted by CLICHÉS. Clichés might be symptoms of afflictions however and I tried to see von Trier's film in this way but failed to see what these stereotypical and crude (but oh so aesthetized) images would confront us with. I don't want to say anything about what von Trier himself thinks about women, that is not interesting.

I know von Trier is no stranger to kitsch and over-the-top stuff in general, and that was not my problem with Antichrist. It was just that the kitch stuff (witches, a talking fox, lots of gore) didn't seem to have any purpose.

There were a couple of beautifully shot scenes, but those few moments didn't for sure make the film's end credits dedication to Tarkovsky less a joke than it appeared to be to me. Tarkovsky this wasn't. Pompous B-movie was what I thought of it. It wasn't so much that I was outraged by the violence in von Trier's film, but the whole thing seemed rather pointless to me as I couldn't make out what von Trier was trying to say with it.

El Sastre (2007)

El Sastre (2007) is a short film about a grumpy tailor and his assistant that I happened to record from TV a few months ago but I didn't watch it until now. It is a great little film with moments of sheer brilliance, revealing the day-to-day friction of human communication. Films/documentaries about work usually focus on either the dignity of or the hardship of work. This is something else. I like that. Watch it if you find it!

10 July 2009

Pajunen

Följande från dagens Husis:

Helsingfors stadsdirektör Jussi Pajunen har offentligt talat för att tiggeriet i Helsingfors borde förbjudas. Nu hoppas han på att polisens pågående kampanj effektivt kan få bort tiggarna ur staden.
– Jag hoppas på att vi blir av med det här professionella tiggandet. Vi kan visa att tiggande inte hör hemma i vår kultur.

Lägg märke till "professionellt" här och den rörelse Pajunen gör med det här begreppet. Pajunen vill se ett kulturellt problem som myndigheterna ska råda bot på genom att sätta tydliga gränser för vad som tillhör Vår Kultur. Man undrar hur (och om?) Pajunen tänker här.

9 July 2009

gösta and sture abroad, part II



















on doing wittgensteinian philosophy

In order to be a good wittgensteinian philosopher you have to be something of a masochist. You really have to love pain, shame, misery and looking at yourself from the worst perspective. I am writing a text about work and necessity - about the very strange and metaphysical distinction between "necessary" and "voluntary" that tends to pop up when one is philosophizing about work. Metaphysical, that is, when it is presented by freedom-loving philosophers. There's plenty of them. I'm thinkin': heck, I can look through all of that georgebushist-crap. Yes, I can. So, in one passage, I try to explain one particularly sympathetic aspect of early Marx. And I try to describe it so that it does not get hopelessly stranded in the kind of distinction I try to shoot down. That's why I am really frustrated when I can't do this. Not because I want to save Marx' ass. (That would be boring.) But because I want to bring out the richness of the concept of work being "expressive". I am stuck. I am stuck in this freedom shit. And, admit it, that's what progress is when you're in this business of doing wittgensteinian philosophy. To be entangled in a mess of trouble that is completely your own. OhhhAhhh. Feels so goooood.

6 July 2009

The Visitor (2007)

The Visitor was shown in cinemas here a while ago but I forgot to go see it, even though my sister talked about it a few times. It really is a good movie.

The widowed main character, Walter, is what harsh managerialists would call "dead wood" - he teaches, but without enthusiasm. He is tired and has no interest in his job. Against his will, he is sent to New York to attend a conference. While entering his apartment (obviously, he has his own place) he notices he is not alone. Walter's landlord obviously has noticed that Walter does not visit the place very often and Tarek, an illegal immigrant from Syria, and his girlfriend Zainab, from Senegal, now live there. Walter is a stiff man. The initial encounter with the new inhabitants is excruciatingly embarrassing but he offers them to stay in the apartment. Walter gradually befriends Tarek, who is a drummer. Zainab is more suspicious. Tarek teaches Walter how to play. Walter slowly comes to life. One day, Tarek is arrested for a petty breaking of rules that no "American" would have been arrested for. As he is illegally in the country, this is a serious situation. Walter's colleague repeatedly asks him to come back to Connecticut, but somehow it is impossible for Walter to go back.

The scenes in this movies worked as snapshots: short, just hinting at the story that was unraveled. I found many scenes very powerful and the pace of the film was pleasantly slow. Especially the way scenes were cut was, in my opinion, quite unusual, as the director decided to focus on many silent, although very expressive, moments that revealed the character of the relationships. The character of Walter was quite successfully developed and the actor Richard Jenkins is very good, I think (I didn't even realize he's the guy playing Nathaniel Fisher SR!). The widower who initially had lots of problems with himself wasn't, I would say, a caricature (neither were Tarek & Zainab reduced to "Culture"). His "goodness" was not transformed into cheery heroism. He could've become "the good American" whose malaise was saved by "oriental energy" but if you ask me he didn't have that function of "conscience-prozac" and the film didn't fall into the latter trap either - even though some scenes were a little too smooth for their own good (Walter sitting in the park, happily pounding the drums - was a bit over the top because of the specific things the scene focused on). I think the film dealt with its major themes - chance and sudden friendship - in quite a beautiful way.

Clearly, The Visitor is a political story. The rules of immigration and deportation and the dealings of public authorities are depicted as cruel and legalistic. I'm not sure what American reviewers made of this. But could the movie have been "harder" on its viewers? I'm not sure, I'm not sure. It is obvious that the political theme is only one of many. And maybe there is something fishy about the way the focus of the film is clearly Walter. Not Tarek or Zainab. If I were to be hard on this movie, I would say that the topic of illegal immigration is simply fluff. But I'm not sure if I want to say that, either. I don't know what to think about this right know. Have I been tricked into something?

This was also a very different movie than The Station Agent that Thomas McCarthy directed a few years ago.

Ordförande Persson


Lustigt nog såg jag Erik Fichtelius' dokumentärserie Ordförande Persson samtidigt som jag plöjer igenom Jung Changs biografi om Ordförande Mao. Där det senare porträttet är uteslutande obehaglig läsning är den fyradelade dokumentären om Göran Persson riktigt underhållande samtidigt som den ger en bra bild både av Persson och det politiska klimat som gör en Persson möjlig. En del av mina bekanta har förundrats över min stora fascination inför Sveriges förra statsminister. Och jag måste krypa till Kanossa: den stora behållningen med Ordförande Persson är ofrivillig komik som Persson ständigt ger upphov till genom sina "kontemplativa" analyser av politiska situationer och kollegor i branschen. Men egentligen skulle Göran Persson kunna läsa ur telefonkatalogen och det skulle vara roligt det också. Göran Persson levererar omdöme efter omdöme där andra politiker beskrivs som "jävligt dåliga" (om Carl Bildt) eller "inte direkt kossan ----s danskavaljer" (om Per Nuder). Många politiker beskrivs som dåliga "tänkare", som dock är utmärkta "agitatorer". Det råder däremot inga tvivel om var Göran Persson själv ser sin styrka. Han erkänner att han inte alltid når ut med sitt budskap på det mest slagkraftiga sätt, men tänkandet och de politiska analyserna är det inget fel på. Som Johan Croneman surt påpekade i DN när det begav sig är det här kanske ingen avslöjande dokumentär politiskt sett. Nä, kanske inte, men som maktfullkomlighetsstudie fungerar detta utmärkt. Serien är full av absurda scener som den där Ordförande Persson äter i regeringens matsal dit miljöpartiet och andra icke är välkomna. Göran Persson rotar runt bland alternativen för dagens lunch. Göran Persson slår sig ner vid ett stort runt bord. Göran Persson äter ensam. Alltid ensam - aldrig ensam.

4 July 2009

gender trouble

Last night we went to J's local bar. It's a karaoke bar, you see, and I hadn't been there, and J has praised it ongoingly throughout the years. He sang Folsom Prison blues. Well I know I had it comin' / I can't be free. We had a couple of drinks and then we left. When we were already walking on the street, a big, burly man hollered at us: "so what are you? a man or a woman?" J and I looked at each other and laughed. Who was he addressing? We grabbed a pizza while the man must have dwelled deep in contemplation.

**
My sister told me the following story: A party ("kalas!") to celebrate my aunt's 70th birthday. The local restaurant. Steak and brown sauce. Our relative K is already wobbling around, visibly befuddled by drink. He was a business man, but he is probably retired now. He lives in Stockholm and he talks like Vanheden (de ska va lite stil, serrö). He approaches my cousin, who is rarely seen in the Villige. My cousin had lots of kids. Basically, I know nothing about her except that she has a bunch of them kids. Our dear K has a look at the new baby "It's so hard with them, it's so hard to see what they are. Is this is a boy or a girl?" My cousin snaps: "OF COURSE YOU CAN SEE IT'S A GIRL! She wears a dress and she's got a pink ribbon in her hair!"

**
I've been given a gender neutral Hong Kong name. Mar Leeman. The name bears the promise of martial arts skills and cool stuff in general. I'd love to mar the landscape.

3 July 2009

The Pop Group - Y


Dear friends! This is something, this. The Pop Group is maybe a pop group, if you accept that pop means delivering irresistable energy and an abundance of twisted, noisy songs with a minimum of traditional structure or coherence. Basically, Y is cool post-punk, the New York hipster branch, even though these thugs come from Bristol. Y is from 1979. Dubby, jazzy at times, and fairly often inspired by funk music, Y is not really a traditional punk album at all. But never difficult. Does not feel dated. The guitar lines are splashy and percussion is sometimes drowned in dubby echo, sometimes contributing positively to a sense of menacing chaos. The saxophone sounds play the same role as in James Chance & the Contortions - on the magnificent "Don't Call Me Pain" the saxophone howls and moans and stutters. "Don't call me pain/ My name is mystery / Don't call me pain /This is the age of chance /This is the age of chance/ Don't call me pain/ Being afraid is power......... Fire your finger in the dark" The singer, xxxx, might have inspired Nick Cave & the overall sound bears some resemblance to Birthday Party even though latter band has a polished sound compared to these scoundrels. Somehow, all of the songs seem to fall apart all the time but somehow they are glued together by this or that element.
The lyrics? Impressionist left politics, some fucked-up love songs. "Teeth beckon you / who says guns speak louder / who says guns speak louder / money's a weapon of terror / money's a weapon of terror / Spiders I can trust open my chest" - may give you a hint. But it is not always possible to make out the words because the words are usually either wheezed or shouted. The mix adds to a sense of restlessness, which is a good thing. The instruments and the vocals collapse into a jumble.
Jag läser en debattartikel i DN framförd av de röd-gröna partiledarna i Sverige och tänker på följande:

a) att politik antas handla om prioriteringar (Reinfelt och s.g.s. som alla politiker skulle hålla med)
b) man appellerar gärna till statistik även om man är en smula slarvig med siffrorna.
c) den politiska retoriken är fan i mig en av de tröttaste, mest fantasilösa, mest urvattnade, mest själlösa former av språkliga uttryck som produceras idag.

"De senaste veckorna har klargjort skiljelinjen i svensk politik. Valet 2010 handlar som alltid om det väljarna har rätt att utkräva: En utvärdering av de vallöften som givits och hur resultaten under mandatperioden verkligen har blivit. Har det blivit bättre eller sämre de gångna fyra åren?"

ps: jag menar inte att politikerna borde skeppas iväg till Biskops-Arnö. Men den här genren av texter innehåller helt enkelt noll reflektion och hundra procent "det här torde väl vara effektiv retorik".