Table of Contents – John Taylor Gatto

Ξ November 28th, 2006 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Words |

Old-fashioned dumbness used to be simple ignorance; now it is transformed from ignorance into permanent mathematical categories of relative stupidity like "gifted and talented," "mainstream," "special ed." Categories in which learning is rationed for the good of a system of order. Dumb people are no longer merely ignorant. Now they are indoctrinated, their minds conditioned with substantial doses of commercially prepared disinformation dispensed for tranquilizing purposes.

Jacques Ellul, whose book Propaganda is a reflection on the phenomenon, warned us that prosperous children are more susceptible than others to the effects of schooling because they are promised more lifelong comfort and security for yielding wholly:

Critical judgment disappears altogether, for in no way can there ever be collective critical judgment....The individual can no longer judge for himself because he inescapably relates his thoughts to the entire complex of values and prejudices established by propaganda. With regard to political situations, he is given ready-made value judgments invested with the power of the truth by...the word of experts.

The new dumbness is particularly deadly to middle- and upper-middle-class kids already made shallow by multiple pressures to conform imposed by the outside world on their usually lightly rooted parents. When they come of age, they are certain they must know something because their degrees and licenses say they do. They remain so convinced until an unexpectedly brutal divorce, a corporate downsizing in midlife, or panic attacks of meaninglessness upset the precarious balance of their incomplete humanity, their stillborn adult lives. Alan Bullock, the English historian, said Evil was a state of incompetence. If true, our school adventure has filled the twentieth century with evil.

Ξ November 26th, 2006 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Music |

- The Bastard Fairies -

View the Infomercial!

Download the album for zip, inna zip!

Eat more meat!

Pretend to be Kiki de Montparnasse!

ermmm get an 8 year old to stick it to blusterman!

ah yeah, and watch the movie...


Majikthise : Evangelical leader says he bought meth he didnt use from a pro

Ξ November 26th, 2006 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Politics and Society |

"Evangelical leader says he bought meth he didn't use from a prostitute he didn't fuck"

ted luvs his candy!


Syujyo Triptych, Holiness by *elliegreco on deviantART

Ξ November 25th, 2006 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Arts |

Front right panel from Syujyo Triptych by elliegreco


Frickin Good Culture

Ξ November 19th, 2006 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Misc |

-Guerrilla Art Hits the Shelves:
Banned Books in Boston-

I was perusing the shelves at the Morton R. Godine Library when I came across a book that struck my fancy: 'Radicalism and the Revolt Against Reason: The Social Theories of Georges Sorel' by Irving L. Horowitz. As I went up to the front desk to check it out a piece of paper fell from the pages of the book. The text on it read: "If you're taking this book out you may be a terrorist in which case you should consider turning yourself in" it then provided the phone number for Operation TIPS and was signed Attorney General John Ashcroft. The librarian then informed me that an unknown person had been taking books and personally censoring them by marking out the text with sharpie and then putting them back on the shelves. Now the purpose of this clever sabotage is pretty obvious given the current political climate. However, since titles chosen had all been previously banned at some point in history, it also speaks to our region's Puritan history of censorship, one which gave birth to the once popular phrase "Banned in Boston."

Since the Godine Library is located within Massachusetts College of Art, the library administrators were looking for some sort of outlet in which to exhibit these self-censored books. Since no galleries were biting, I decided to showcase them myself."


candles by BeeBee

Ξ November 14th, 2006 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Arts, Photography |


Neil Gaiman – American Gods

Ξ November 14th, 2006 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Words |

"There was a girl, and her uncle sold her, wrote Mr Ibis in his perfect copper-plate handwriting.
    That is the tale; the rest is detail.
    There are accounts which, if we open our hearts to them, will cut us too deeply. Look -- here is a good man, good by his own lights and the lights of his friends: he is faithful and true to his wife, he adores and lavishes attention on his little children, he cares about his country, he does his job punctiliously, as best he can. So, efficiently and good-naturedly, he exterminates Jews: he appreciates the music that plays in the background to pacify them; he advises the Jews not to forget their identification numbers as they go into the showers -- many people, he tells them, forget their numbers, and take the wrong clothes when they come out of the showers. This calms the Jews. There will be life, they assure themselves, after the showers. Our man supervises the detail taking the bodies to the ovens; and if there is anything he feels bad about, it is that he still allows the gassing of vermin to affect him. Were he a truly good man, he knows, he would feel nothing but joy as the earth is cleansed of its pests.
    There was a girl, and her uncle sold her. Put like that it seems to simple.
    No man, proclaimed Donne, is an island, and he was wrong. If we are not islands, we would be lost, drowned in each other's tragedies. We are insulated (a word that means, literally, remember, made into an island) from the tragedy of others, by our island nature, and by the repetitive shape and form of the stories. The shape does not change: there was some human being who was born, lived, and then, by some means or another, died. There. You may fill in the details from your own experience. As unoriginal as any other tale, as unique as any other life. Lives are snowflakes: forming patters we have seen before, as like one another as peas in the pod (and have you ever looked at peas in a pod? I mean, really looked at them? There's not a chance you would mistake one for another, after a minute's close inspection) but still unique.
    Without individuals we see only numbers: a thousand dead, a hundred thousand dead, 'casualties may rise to up to a million'. With individual stories, the statistics become people -- but even that is a lie, for the people continue to suffer in numbers that themselves are numbing and meaningless. Look, see the child's swollen, swollen belly, the flies that crawl in the corners of his eyes, his skeletal limbs: will it make it easier for you to know his name, his age, his dreams, his fears? To see him from the inside? And if it does, are we not doing a disservice to his sister, who lies in the searing dust beside him, a distorted, distended caricature of a human child? And there, if we feel for them, are they now more important to us than a thousand other children touched by the same famine, a thousand other young lives who will soon be food for the flies' own myriad squirming children?
    We draw our lines around these moments of pain, and remain upon our islands, and they cannot hurt us. They are covered with a smooth, safe, nacreous layer to let them slip, pearl-like, from our souls without real pain.
    Fiction allows us to slide into these other heads, these other places, and look out through other eyes. And then in the tale we stop before we die, or we die vicariously and unharmed, and in the world beyond the tale we turn the page or close the book, and we resume out lives.
    A life, which is, like any other, unlike any other.
    And the simple truth is this: there was a girl, and her uncle sold her.



Ξ November 12th, 2006 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Arts, Photography |

an abandoned woolen mill/manufactory down the road a wee bit from me.


chimney 1 by *TheOtherBunty on deviantART

Ξ November 12th, 2006 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Arts, Photography |


ImageShack – Hosting :: p9204084bc5.jpg

Ξ November 11th, 2006 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Arts, Photography |